#regasterum

ʜᴏʟɪᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴀsᴋ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ  ➝ accepting.

     It  is  a valid point.  With a controlled temperature aboard the  ATLAS  installed alongside the life support , why would they ever need a fireplace , beyond the desire for atmosphere ? Even the tradition of Santa coming down a chimney seems fleeting , only allowing for a decorated tree to keep their Christmas cheer sustained.  After two years of being trapped in another plane of existence , the rest of the team missing Earth for nearly half a decade , something like a simple holiday festivity has become priority for their new Admiral.

      He seems lost in thought as a contemplative look gazes aboard the ATLAS’ command.  There’s no  real  place to hang them without blocking some kind of display or monitor , and having each stocking in everyones’ quarters would defeat the purpose.  He would need a place for an abundance of stockings ( ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏʀ  every  ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀʙᴏᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴛʟᴀs ɪɴ  one  sᴘᴏᴛ ) where everyone can access and see.  Maybe  he’s thinking too deep into this. 

       ❛ It never hurts to be on the safe side. ❜ He’d noticed it days ago, purely by coincidence – a casual ruffling of Keith’s hair had yielded the suspicion that he felt warmer than he should. The interim had passed with careful, quiet observation, but even if he couldn’t pick up on anything else out of place, Keith still feels as warm to the touch now as he did when the week started. Worry has become a constant companion over the years – and now it stirs from a wariness at the back of his mind to something that captures his heart and his thoughts and ends with Keith on the couch as Shiro debates the merits of making him ( to the best of his ability ) visit the health center. 

       The thermometer chimes and Shiro takes it back, momentarily ignoring Keith’s protest until the numbers settle on the screen – 100.5. Not normal. In a strange mix of concern and empathy and the vindication that comes with noticing something wrong in time, Shiro exhales as he swallows back the urge to argue. That’s – that wouldn’t help, right ? Keith seems – okay. No glassy eyes, no redness, no problems with his attention. Perfectly at odds with the thermometer in his hands but it occurs to him, in that moment, that he’s not in this to freak him out or something. 

       ( no matter how much he’s managed to do that to himself. ) 

        ❛ – Do you feel anything else? Chills, aches? ❜ Shiro can understand the desire to – shove things like this under the rug, sure, but there is no part of him that’s satisfied with dropping the matter – with sending Keith back out into the world with a fever. ❛ Look, there’s nothing wrong with taking it easy for a day, right? If I ask you to lie down for the afternoon, would you ? It doesn’t have to be a total waste – you could tell me about classes, or we could watch something. ❜ 

i finally have a reason to put my son t.oshinori in my multimuse and that reason is you.

                               ❝ Fake faces hiding EVERYWHERE                                   Made up, makeup, made up stares                                   To hide their stolen AIR                                   Don't look too close, don't you dare                                   Stupid seems to be in the air, in my air, EVERYWHERE                                   Blameless I'll shatter through the glare                                   Make it, take it, they won't SHARE                                   I can’t fake it, I’ll just make it on my own  ❞

  “Hey-you need somethin’?”  His fingers flare as he speaks, poking the air at the end of the multiple question marks.  It’s instinct at this point when talking to Keith and Shiro worked too hard to memorize an entire new language to not use it at least when talking to Keith if not on a daily basis.  It came in handy when either of them couldn’t speak for whatever reason.  “If you want food, I just checked the dish washer and it’s still going.  Or whatever counts as a dish washer on a space castle.” 

       ❛ Keith -- ❜  

       Shiro’s voice is soft, if it’s anything. Surprised a little, too, maybe. Just around the edges, just in the way that means he needs a second to bridge what he’s heard with what it means, the implications, the emotions behind it. His expression drops, bleeding from its neutral determination to something more open -- almost enough to lend some clarity to the concern, confusion that flickers to life in his chest. Bracing one hand he turns so that he can see Keith from more than just his periphery. 

       ( those who go, and things clarify and his heart responds in kind the moment they do, fluttering and twisting and he swallows back the spike of emotion before it can warp the set of his expression more than a furrowed brow and a flicker at the corner of his mouth. ) 

       ❛ -- I didn’t know you were worried about that. ❜ He should have, because he knows what Keith has been through and taking his silence for support in the wake of everything with Sanda and -- ( no, not now, not in this moment ) -- is entirely unfair. Particularly when he knows Keith so well by now. Particularly when he considers him family. Slow and careful, Shiro telegraphs his movements before gently his hand on the top of Keith’s head -- light, a few points of feathery contact that he hopes conveys the warmth, the sincerity that burns in his chest. 

       ❛ I should have. I’m sorry about that. ❜ His lips pull into something soft, something like a smile laced with all the gravity of deep, abiding affection. ❛ But you don’t have to. Not about this. I’ll be back before you know it -- there’s nothing that’ll keep me from coming home. I won’t let it, I promise. ❜ 

keith wants to know why cosmo isnt on this list because why use him as a pillow with a enormous fluff in form of wolf right there????? 

  “Of course not.  You’ve just spent enough time lying to me that obviously I can’t tell when you’re lying.”  He’s leaning casually against Black’s leg, gnawing on one of the more successful cookies of Hunk’s third batch.  “So what’s up?”