#as you can see I forgot to add his raincoat pockets

[squibo]

*♡೫̥*･:.·˖*✩⡱Here’s the finished pompompurin columbo i sculpted! Ain’t he cute ｡:°ஐ♡*ﾟ*✩‧₊˚

Under the cut is some collage work in progress and a size comparison next to a sonny angle

[ptergwen]

warmer than cuddles

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: may plays matchmaker and makes some suggestive jokes

prompt: you and peter get caught in the rain and have to share an umbrella

a/n: thank youuu to the angel who requested <3 swear this is my favorite trope to write hehe ☔️

-

one of the many things you and peter have in common is being lazy. it’s sort of the basis of your friendship. you’re not the kids who drink or party or get in trouble. you play board games and eat pizza on his ripped up couch. the riskiest thing you’ve ever done is sneak into a movie.

peter was so paranoid you’d get caught, he couldn’t even pay attention. he kept whispering to you about paying the whole time. you had to drag him out by his hand after the movie ended. the next time you went to that theater, he bought an extra ticket to “make it even.”

that about put an end to your trying new things phase. you went right back to your comfy nights in pajamas. tackling each other for the remote, baking terrible cookies that you just throw out, sharing a blanket to stay warm. what also helps is that you cuddle under it.

all the fun you need is you, peter, and your love for doing nothing. may disagrees.

she’s always trying to get you two out of the apartment. in her words, it’s “unhealthy for developing teens to spend so much time cooped up inside.” peter once asked which mother’s facebook group she joined. you snickered at that. may gave you a warning look.

well, you don’t have a choice to stay in today. she’s kicking you and peter out because she has guests coming over.

“it’s girl’s night,” may tells the two of you with a satisfied smirk. she hangs her raincoat on the rack and comes into the living room. peter squints his eyes at her. “you have friends?” he sounds too surprised for your liking. you flick his arm hard enough to make him go “ouch!”

“peter, we only have, like, four friends. that’s counting ourselves,” you inform him with a laugh. peter drops his head onto your shoulder. “and i don’t need any of them but you,” he says sarcastically, rubbing his cheek on your sweatshirt. “aw, i know,” you coo and rest your head on his. may crosses her arms and shrugs.

“you should do a group play date with everyone! i haven’t heard from ned in a while,” she suggests, your eyes flicking over to peter. he’s biting back a grin. “play date?” you try to stifle a laugh when you ask. “you know what i mean. a hang out,” may nods at her better word choice. peter winces in protest.

“eh, ned will probably wanna go out somewhere. we don’t do that,” he tells may, like that’s a completely normal thing for a teenager to say. you raise a finger in agreement. she laughs in disbelief at you and peter. you’re splayed out on the couch, on a saturday, complaining about doing anything else.

“you two make me feel young.” may’s words are a joke, but her tone isn’t. “you are young, may,” you reassure her and smile a little. peter says nothing. his eyes become hooded as he settles into you more. “look at you two, like some old married couple,” may gestures to you from where she’s standing. she smiles this time.

peter’s face gets hot from the mention of you being a couple. your heart skips a couple of beats. you’re pretty sure he can tell from how close he is.

“do whatever you want, just not here,” she gets back to the real conversation. peter hides his entire face in your shoulder as a form of protest. you pat his back. “and not each other. unless you’re safe,” may adds. “may, please. no,” he groans out, positive he’s all red now. you blink at her in horror.

may knows what she’s doing. peter isn’t the most subtle person, especially not about liking someone. she’s learned all the signs that her nephew is falling. he’s falling for you. she sees it in you, too. the way your eyes soften when they meet peter’s, how fast you are to hug him back or beam at the silly things he says.

you two spend so much time apart from your other friends, you basically are a couple. you’re just not old or married. the only thing you need is a push to realize that.

“ok, we’re gonna go now,” peter decides and pulls away from you. “god bless,” you say only so he can hear. he chuckles at that, you getting up from the couch. giving him a knowing smile, you grab one of his hands. he lets you pull him to his feet while exhaling. he’s already exhausted. may watches and shakes her head.

peter walks up to give her a quick hug. “enjoy girl’s night. love you,” he murmurs as she squeezes him tight. even though they tease each other a lot, their relationship is really sweet. it’s very telling how a guy treats his mother. well, aunt in this case. that thought has always been in the back of your mind.

“have fun!” you grin at may when her and peter pull apart. he comes back over to you and tugs on your sleeve. “thanks, kids. we’ll be done around eleven,” she lets you know. you’re already getting your shoes on and ready to leave. eleven is a while from now.

“don’t forget an umbrella! it’s drizzling!” may calls after you two. peter grabs hers that’s leaning against the front door. it’s pink with purple polka dots. you giggle at that. “hey, i like pink,” he defends himself and opens the door, letting you out first. you raise your hands in defense, leaving the apartment.

peter waves at may one last time. “good luck, peter,” she tells him once you reach the stairs. he furrows both eyebrows. “good luck with what?” “you’ll see,” may raises her own eyebrows in a way that’s all too familiar to peter. he calls it her face of wisdom.

still confused, peter heads out. he finds you at the bottom of the stairs. you shove your hands in your pockets and push against the door to open it. peter meets you outside, twirling the umbrella between his fingers.

“is there anywhere you wanna go?” he asks as you start to walk. you’re just going down the block for now. “back upstairs,” you sigh out. “i wish. not an option, though,” peter puffs some air out of his cheeks. you fumble to pull up your hood. he easily reaches over and does it for you.

“thanks,” you say quietly. “you’re welcome,” peter pats the top of your head for emphasis. “we could just walk around.” “until eleven o’clock? that’s five hours from now,” you laugh out, adjusting your hoodie to block your face. disappointment crosses over his features.

“should’ve brought my suit,” he mutters mostly to himself. linking your arm with his, your eyes widen. “i’m not trusting you to swing me around in this weather.” his bicep flexes when your arm wraps around his own. “what? i’ve done it before, y/n/n. on patrol.” you turn your head towards him.

“didn’t you get hurt last time?” you already know the answer. “sprained wrist and a few cuts,” he grumbles, you humming because you’re right. he’d called you in tears when he got home, scared he broke something. you reminded him he would heal soon and stayed on the phone until he calmed down.

that ended up being the whole night. you’re probably the most supportive of peter being spider-man. you of course worry about the toll it takes, but you understand why he does it. the least you can do is be there for him while he navigates the superhero world. not talk him out of it or scold him for making mistakes, be there.

that’s why he loves his lazy days with you so much. they’re his break, his escape from what he lies awake worrying about most nights. you’ve seen what he has to go through, so you respect that. whatever he needs to do to unwind is fine by you. as long as you get to do it with him.

“then you couldn’t patrol for weeks. you could barely hold a pencil.” your other arm sneaks around his. they’re both hugging him now. “you had to be my note taker,” peter reminisces, a smile making its way onto his face. “that sucked, man. you’re such a perfectionist about them,” you breathe out.

peter flips the umbrella around in a show-off kind of way. “you don’t complain when i send them to you.” he sounds so cocky you can’t help but roll your eyes. he isn’t wrong, though. “whatever. seriously, where should we go?” “uh,” peter’s eyes scan the block for inspiration. they land on a man carrying takeout.

“dinner? not at a restaurant since we’re in sweats,” he adds the last part so you don’t have to. “ooh, let’s go to panera,” you happily squeeze his arm. peter quirks an eyebrow at you. “you’re always hungry after.” “so? we can get dessert, too. we have a while.” that makes his heart flutter. a while with you.

“cool, cool, cool,” he sings to you, leaning into your side as you walk. you giggle and push at his shoulder. “i think we can make it there before the rain picks up.” there’s a clap of thunder right after he says that, like something out of a movie. it’s followed by a heavier rain coming down on you two. you pull at the strings of your hoodie to keep it tighter on your head.

“jinxed it,” you remark, both of you stopping so peter can open the umbrella. “ugh,” he grunts out. his lower lip is between his teeth while he undoes the velcro. he pushes down and watches as the umbrella springs open for you two. “here, c’mere,” peter welcomes you under as he holds it above your heads.

it doesn’t quite fit you both since it’s only meant for one person. you forgot he took may’s. the two of you have to squish together so you can avoid the rain, which is pitter pattering down hard on the sidewalk.

you’re comfortable under here with him. the freezing cold weather outside of the umbrella is hardly an issue anymore.

peter turns to face you, letting out a breathless laugh. “you can take off your hood now.” your arms slip from around his. you remove it from your head and give him a toothy grin. it’s one that’s meant to be over exaggerated. “there’s that pretty face,” peter’s voice gets quieter. unlike what you did, that wasn’t a joke.

your pretty face loses its smile. you’re suddenly very aware of how close peter is to you.

you can see the faint scar on his chin from when he banged it into a wall in your living room. he’d ran straight into it during your two person game of hide and seek. yes, you still play that. it was gushing blood for half an hour.

there are also the thousands of freckles dotting his face, the ones you only notice by looking at him super hard. you try to count them whenever you get bored. peter stares back at you while you fall in love with every tiny detail about him.

he takes the time to admire your lips, not just because they look really kissable right now. because of every curious expression they press into when he does something you can’t believe. your eyes, that he feels a sense of safety and honesty and familiarity every time he looks into. he finds them and feels like he’s home.

“peter?” you speak up after a few moments. your tone is hesitant, as if whatever you’re going to ask will change what you have forever. that’s because it might. it’s silent except for the sound of the rain hitting his umbrella. peter finally answers, almost in a whisper. “yeah?”

“i... i think,” you clear your throat before going on. his eyes trail down to your lips again, then back up to your twinkling ones. even on a gloomy day like this, they could light up the whole sky. “i think i love you,” you get out, a hand over your racing heart. peter gives you a small but sure nod. “i think i love you, too.”

he takes a step closer to you, if that’s even possible. his hand without the umbrella comes up to hold your cheek. you watch as he uses his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain droplets. your head tilts to the side, lips parted on instinct. peter leans in until his lips just brush yours, letting you decide what comes next.

you choose to close the space between you two. his eyes squeeze shut, whole face scrunched up when he kisses back. this is a release of all the emotions he’s been holding in that he didn’t even realize he had. you slip into a rhythm, using the angle to move your lips against peter’s.

his hand drops from your cheek to your jaw to support you while you kiss. your own hands grab his biceps, fingers pressing into him, depesrate to have him in your arms. peter lets out a content sigh against your lips before detaching them. it’s not for long. he comes right back in after taking a breath.

you get one long peck from him, then another that’s softer than the last. you give him a short kiss back, lips curving into a smile when this one ends. peter’s thumb smooths over your jawline while he searches for your eyes. he grins at you and tightens his grip on the umbrella handle. he’s surprised it didn’t blow away in the midst of your mini makeout.

“i definitely love you, peter,” you state so genuinely, hands on his shoulders now. that has to be peter’s favorite sentence he’s ever heard. the most beautiful combination of words, said by you to him. “i definitely love you, y/n,” peter agrees, punctuating his statement with one last kiss. you haven’t stopped smiling when his lips meet the corner of yours.

may was right about two things that night. you needed the umbrella for that huge storm, but it did more than protect your from the rain. it also brought you and peter together in a way. the second thing she was right about was that peter loves you, and every feeling he has mirror yours for him.

actually, she was right about three things. you two have to get out of the apartment more often.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 3) Rolling Twenties

I don’t think anyone likes Mingfei Lu who just plays the game and doesn’t understand his background. So it makes sense that the MC would get irritated by him too.

The rumbling sound of the subway came from directly above, and ahead was the giant water turbine with a diameter of more than three meters. The sewer had become as wide as an underground river by this point, and the still water became turbulent. Rolling white waves bounced between the paddles with a thunderous sound. The water turbine was pumping a huge amount of water into the Iron Dome Shrine. 

"How do we get past?" Lu Mingfei looked up at the sharp paddles, each almost two meters long and cast in fine steel, which could easily cut off floating objects such as aquatic plants. 

"The water turbine doesn't always turn, and when it stops we'll get through between the holes in the grate." Chu Zihang said. 

"But when will it stop?" 

"It's already starting to slow down." 

The turbine was really slowing down, and it took a few minutes before it slowly stopped, water clattering down from the paddles. 

"Go now!" Caesar bellowed. 

You all climbed up the iron ladder on the side of the turbine and ran through the stainless steel grate. You hold on tight to Caesar and press your head down to make yourself as small as possible. You squeeze your eyes shut, trusting in his speed to get you through.

You slide down the smooth walls of the ducts and look up at the emptiness overhead. You couldn’t help but feel that the Iron Dome Temple was really a miracle in the history of engineering. This is probably the most advanced sewer system in the world, fully automated, with layers of cleaning nets intercepting the dirt in the water, giant mechanical arms shoveling up the sediment and dirt that has settled to the bottom of the pipe and sending it to the drainage tank high above, and intelligent robots sliding along the grooves in the pipe wall to maintain the machinery inside the pipe. Although there are iron ladders and walkways for maintenance on the walls of the pipes, the Iron Dome Shrine will not require manual maintenance for twenty years according to the design standards of the Maruyama Construction Institute. 

The familiar sound of electric welding echoed through the pipes. 

"Did you hear that? Over there is the underground dock of the Iwarui Institute. The sound of welding indicates that someone is repairing the equipment.” Caesar lowered his voice, "There are at least twenty people over there, twenty heavily armed men, so no one can speak loudly from now on. Our voices will echo and amplified in the pipes and can travel a long way."

You notice the gold tint of Caesar’s pupils. Without a word he had already sent out his Spirit Word, Scythe Itachi, and was listening far down into the channel. 

"I'm really a little afraid I can't control myself," whispered Lu Mingfei, "I want to talk when I'm nervous, like I'll be suffocated if I don't." 

"Use this," Caesar fished out four lollipops from his trench coat pocket, giving one to Lu Mingfei and one to Chu Zihang, "Put it in your mouth so you don't subconsciously shout out, but also to replenish your blood sugar." 

He hands one to you and you take it. Being quiet was never an  issue with you. The nurses at Black Swan Bay gave vicious glares to children who so much as whimpered in pain. So if Caesar asked you to be quiet, your strict training in obedience in this regard subconsciously came into play and you wouldn’t speak again unless given express permission to do so.

"Boss, can I exchange the mint flavored one with you?" 

"You're too late," Caesar threw the green lollipop into his mouth, "and start shutting up now, someone is coming this way!" 

A dozen seconds later, there were footsteps from high above. It was a black-clad guard, whose bony hands could be seen through his transparent raincoat pressing down on his sidearm. He was obviously not a policeman. No policeman would use a Colt "King Cobra". This large caliber revolver is expensive and deadly. It's the kind of gun that mobsters like. They see people as prey, and they're all about killing them in one shot. The four of you hid in the shadows against the wall of the tube and looked up through the iron grille as the beating feet of the guards in their leather shoes stepped over your heads and faded away. 

"Those twenty heavily armed guards are all of this mob killer level, right?" Lu Mingfei mumbled.

You catch his gaze with your wide eyed stare. What about ‘Shut up’ did he not understand? Channeled through you is the fury of the nurses of Black Swan Bay. You pierced Mingfei Lu with a silent threat so certain that the young man visibly paled. You raise a shaking finger to your lips and silently mouth the word, “Quiet!”

 Chu Zihang glanced at Caesar, who shook his head, meaning that this level of security was difficult to break through by force.  

"What about fire suppression? You have enough bullets now. How many targets can you take care of at once?" Chu Zihang asked. Since you were still riding Caesar, you could be privy to their whispered conversation even over the sound of the water.

"Three to five targets would not be a problem. At most you can solve six, even if you add your two Uzis, the three of us would be five guns against twenty guns. And we still do not know how many are hybrids here." Caesar said, "It's not as simple as dealing with gangsters." 

"Uh did you count me?" Lu Mingfei said. 

Caesar gave him a brief dismissive glance. "You don't count. You said so yourself, you’re a civilian." 

You’re so annoyed with him you can’t even laugh.

All three men were silent. Just approaching the door of Genji Heavy Industry, the way forward was completely blocked. In Black Swan Bay you faced similar odds. Renata raised her machine gun to the sky and blasted away nearly a dozen people. But in the end, she was killed and only managed to save one person. Twenty is too many.

"Maybe we should go back to the store. We ordered so much champagne. We can drink champagne while ordering some late night snacks to eat, and think about whether there is another way to get in here." Lu Mingfei cautiously proposed. 

“MC,” Caesar’s whisper was extremely quiet. “Your nails.”

You were so annoyed with Mingfei that you didn’t notice that you were digging your nails into Caesar’s collarbone.  You relax your hands. “We should have left him.” You breathe out into his ear.

“It’s okay.” You don’t even hear the whisper, you only see his mouth move.

 Chu Zihang pointed to the front of the pipe. 

The stream suddenly parted in the middle, and something cigar-shaped floated up on the water about six or seven meters in length and no more than two meters in diameter. It left a white wake as it sailed towards the Iwarui Institute's shipyard. 

"A miniature submarine of the Hydra!" Lu Mingfei remembered that Chisei had admitted that the Hydra family used the pipes to transport contraband. The cargo ship placed the contraband on the unmanned mini-submarine before entering the port, and the submarine arrived below the Genji Heavy Industries along the sewer. 

"Come closer and be careful not to make a sound." Caesar tiptoed ahead. 

Beeps shook the section of pipe, guards blew their whistles and called out to run to the dock from all sides. The submarine slid into the dock and a crane lifted it up in the air. The mechanical arm raised the huge thick metal tank from the hold, which was about two meters long and looked like an elongated barrel of crude oil. Chu Zihang and Caesar looked at each other and both shook their heads. Even with their experience, they couldn't see what cargo was there. This golden passage was obviously not for smuggling oil. 

The heavy airtight door on the wall of the tube suddenly opened and out stepped a man in a white lab coat who hurried past the guards to the metal tank and disinfected it with an alcohol spray. Apparently, this cargo was important and dangerous and he couldn't let the guards touch it first. In his haste, he forgot to close the airtight door that was the only way through Genji Heavy Industries. 

"Chance!" Caesar whispered. 

"The guards are concentrated over at the dock, and their attention is on the metal tanks. “We'll take the yellow spiral ladder over there and go up to the airtight door. Be quick, but don't run, any echoes will be clear in this enclosed space!" Chu Zihang said in a low voice. 

Before Lu Mingfei could raise an objection, Chu Zihang walked out seven or eight meters. He rarely stopped to discuss with people once he made a decision, so the Executive Department all agreed that Chu Zihang is a lone wolf. Caesar silently followed. This muscle-bound man actually can be as light as a cat when walking even with you on his back. Lu Mingfei had no choice but to tiptoe behind. The maintenance tunnel is overhead. They can only step on the iron frame supporting the grated path. It would take at least a few dozen seconds to get from the starting position to the mouth of the passage. If within these few dozen seconds any one of those guards turned back to look, there would be a gun battle.

You think of Z, silent, protecting you. 

Caesar and Chu Zihang's speed is extremely fast. In the twinkling of an eye, you go from the yellow ladder to the maintenance channel, and then a few meters into the airtight door. Lu Mingfei jumped a step in his rush. The crisp sound of metal hitting metal echoed in the pipe, like someone ringing a small bell. 

Chu Zihang's reminder was right. When Lu Mingfei started to run, a nut was shaken off and smashed on the wall of the pipe below. The guards pulled out their guns at the same time, all of them with laser sights on them, red beams scanning in all directions. Someone turned on a powerful flashlight. 

Your nails dig into Caesar again. Your heart drops.

He’s dead.

In Black Swan Bay, such errors were intolerable in training. In group training, you moved as a unit and you were careful to follow the instructions by the leaders. Any insubordination would be met with severe retraining if you were lucky. People who kept making mistakes tended to just disappear. So even though no one had fired a shot, it was as if Lu Mingfei’s mistake had marked him as dead in your mind.

Caesar and Chu Zihang quickly flashed into the airtight door. 

The guards did not find anything on the maintenance channel, and turned to scan their flashlights further down. The beam gradually approaches Lu Mingfei's hiding place and Caesar lets you off his back. You back away, knowing he was about to try and rescue him. But with all that firepower you’re not sure how he was going to survive the attempt.

"There it is!" One guard yelled. 

Several beams of light pointed to the water at the same time, where a long, slender black shadow was swimming! Originally, the shadow’s target was Lu Mingfei walking by the water's edge, but the bright flashlight startled it, and it immediately turned around and swam into the darkness. 

Gunshots burst out, and the guards fired one after another. Whoever supplied Genji heavy industry with guards must originally have been the vicious thugs in the underworld. They have no scruples nor are they stingy with bullets. Their goal is to smash resistance with overwhelming deadly force. 

Caesar’s arm came down from above and pulled Lu Mingfei up to the entrance. As soon as he’s inside, you round on him, teeth bared, and spit "You fucking idiot!” in Russian. In a moment, you raise your hand to slap him in the face, but Caesar’s arm cuts you off. 

“Hey!” He hisses sharply. “Calm down.”

Cheeks red and eyes blazing, you turn back around and move next to Chu Zihang, who glances briefly at you.

"You must have undergone very strict training." He murmured

You nod. 

"He hasn't. You can stay close to me. Let Caesar handle Mingfei."

The water in the pipe turned blood red and a four or five meter long white shark slowly floated up, riddled with bullet holes. You and Chu Zihang exchange glances. This is too incredible. This is the main channel of the Iron Dome Temple. The water in the pipe is five or six meters deep, and connected to the sea. The shark would have no problem moving in it, but this fierce large predator should be in open waters. What attracts it to swim into the spider web of sewers? 

"You were in a leadership position before… weren't you?" Chu Zihang whispers.

You were one of the oldest in the orphanage so it was leadership by default. You bounce your head back and forth and shrug.

"Makes sense. It's why you clash with Caesar so much. And why you get along. You probably had the most powerful Speech Spirit."

You shake your head and hold up three fingers. You mouth the word, 'Third'.

Chu Zihang doesn't respond immediately. "Renata?"

You smile and hold up two fingers but then you hold a finger to your lips and slice a hand across your throat.  The conversation was enough to calm you down the rest of the way.

"Let's go. While they’re not looking." Chu Zihang said. 

Caesar patted Lu Mingfei's shoulder to keep him from looking back. The white shark just now actually took Lu Mingfei as prey, but it's better not to tell Lu Mingfei about this. If he knew he was once seen as a fresh seal pup, he would probably be too scared to walk. 

"Holy shit, good fucking luck, good fucking luck, good luck, good luck." When he got on the elevator Lu Mingfei was still patting his chest in celebration as well as trying to calm his extreme panic. He was shaking so much, his teeth chattered. 

"No doubt. If you keep your good luck, we can rely on your luck to live." Caesar continued patting him on the shoulder and exchanged quiet glances with Chu Zihang. It was clear to everyone but Lu Mingfei that such luck could not be relied on to ever come again.

[idumpyourgrass]

Always Waiting- Chapter Twelve

Always Waiting- Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Always Waiting Masterlist

Summary: Dustin, Y/n, and Steve look for the “evil Russians” Mark Lewinsky’s a scumbag, Robin and Y/n crack the code which leads all of them spying on top of the mall.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/n: I’m poppin this chapters out so fast, this is the only pro I can think of for this quarantine. This one is kind of short, my apologies. I am so excited for the upcoming chapters! I have big things planned! I hope you are all staying happy and healthy! As always lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of weapons? Typos

Word Count: 1.3k

The next morning, before Scoops opened, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin stood around the table in the back, discussing the plan.

“Wait so we’re going to “look for an evil Russian?” you question, “What makes you think an evil Russian is just going to be walking around the mall, in broad day light?” You give everyone a puzzled look.

“You know you could always just stay here and scoop ice cream,” Steve smirked. Sighing, you grab the binoculars off the table, “Sorry Robin, you have to deal with Erica on your own today.” You push the door open and head out into the mall.

*        *         *

You, Dustin, and Steve were hiding behind a plant stand. Steve was peering through the binoculars.

“Do you see anything?” You ask, growing impatient.

“I guess I don’t entirely know what I’m looking for.”

“Evil Russians,” Dustin says, on the lookout. “Yeah, exactly, I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like,” Steve adjusts the binoculars. “Tall, Blonde, not smiling,” you joke earning a glare from Steve, “Also earpieces, duffle bags, that sort of thing,” Dustin adds on.

You start picking at your chipped nail polish, growing extremely bored. “Oh shit,” Steve says quietly. “What?” You ask, Steve quickly looks over to you, “What? Uh nothing, I didn’t say anything,” he glanced up at the second floor then quickly back to you. You reach for the binoculars, Steve blocks you. “What did you see Steve? Let me see!” You quickly snatch them from him, “No, Y/n don’t look-“ But it’s too late, you already saw. Mark Lewinsky sucking face with Anna Jacobi. “Oh,” you slowly bring the binoculars down, biting the inside of your cheek. “Henderson he’s a douche, I told you,” Steve states. You shove the binoculars onto his chest, abruptly standing up, “I’m going back to Scoops,” you mumble as you turn around.

*     *      *

“And there he was! Just making out with her like he forgot we had a date tonight!” You pace around the back room as Robin listens, “and then Steve had the nerve! He had the nerve to say, “I told you he was a douche,” like what?!” Your interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the back door. You go to open the door.

“Delivery for you,” a man rolls in a cart full of boxes.

“Thank you,” you sign the clipboard. You catch a glimpse of the cat logo on his shirt.

“Have a good day,” he rolls his cart out of the room and back down the hallway.

“Yeah you too,” You look towards Robin who seemed to have noticed the logo too as you both run out of the door to catch another look.

“The sliver cat!” You exclaim. Robin grabs a notepad and you two run out of the store to the middle of the mall, almost knocking over Steve and Dustin.

“Hey, where are you two going?” Dustin asks.

You look down at Robins notepad, “A trip to China sounds nice,” you say as you both frantically look around. Then you spot it, you point to the Chinese restaurant in the food court, “Okay! Uhhhh, oh, if you tread lightly,” You read the next line. “There! Kaufman’s shoes!” Robin points up. “When blue meets yellow in the West,” Your eyes search the mall. “Y/n,” Robin gets your attention and points to the clock on the wall. “Yes!” You give Robin a high five.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Steve asks. You smile at him, “We cracked it.”

“Cracked what?” Dustin raises his eyebrow.

“We cracked the code, the Russian code!”

The four of you head back to Scoops and come up with the plan.

*     *      *

The plan somehow led to you all sitting on the roof in the pouring rain spying on some guys with huge ass guns. Dustin had the binoculars, struggling to find something. “Look for Kaufman shoes or the Imperial Panda,” you offer. 

“There, ten o’clock,” Robin points out. You can only make out a guy pushing a cart full of boxes.

“What do you think is in there?” Steve asks.

“Chemical Weapons? Bombs?” Robin guesses.

“Whatever it is, they’re armed to the teeth,” This makes you nervous and the loud thunder and lightning is not helping.

“Guys I think we should go,” you suggest, tugging on Steve’s sleeve urging him to get up.

“Wait, I want to see, let me look,” Steve tells Dustin, reaching for the binoculars

“No, Steve!” The two of them begin fighting over the binoculars. The binoculars hit the side of the wall creating a loud bang. All four of you quickly duck. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping they didn’t hear that. In the midst of it you grabbed Steve’s hand unknowingly. You look down and your interlocked fingers and back up at Steve and you both quickly retrieve your hands. You’re glad it’s dark out so no one can see how red your face is.

“Guys I really think we should go,” you say one more time. This time everyone agrees, and you all run down the stairs, panting.

“Well I think we found your Russians.” Robin says looking back at all of you.

“Alright, I’m calling it a night, I’ll see you all tomorrow,” Robin grabs her backpack and heads to the door, “Don’t let the evil Russians get you!” She shouts as she leaves out the back. Dustin sits down on the counter, “So what do we do now?”

You scoffed, “What do you mean what do we do now? We don’t do anything, We leave it alone.”

Dustin furrowed his brows, “Why?!”

“Hello? Am I the only one who saw all those guns?” You leaned against the table, “We don’t always have to put ourselves in danger!” You crossed your arms, looking from Dustin to Steve, “We leave this alone, do you hear me? We leave this alone.”

“Bu-“

“No buts! Get your stuff, let’s go,” You put your raincoat on, grabbed your keys and headed out the door, “Bye Harrington.”

You and Dustin run to your car, trying to avoid getting soaked from the rain. Dustin gets in on the passenger side, slamming the door.

“Hey Henderson!” You look up and see Steve running towards your car, “Hey, I’m sorry about Mark,” You reach for the door handle, “Yeah, it’s fine Steve, I’m over it,” You open the door a crack, but Steve stops it with his hand.

“You know, I would never let anything bad happen to Dustin,” he pauses, adverting eye contact and shoving his hands in his coat pockets, “Or you,” He takes a quick glance at you.

“And who’s gonna look after you, huh?” You grin, “Goodnight Steve,” you open your car door and hop in.

“Goodnight Y/n,” he shuts your door behind you and heads to his car.

The car ride was silent, except for the sound of the rain hitting against the car. Dustin spoke up.

“Y/n, we don’t know what these Evil Russians are up to, we could save Hawkins from sudden death!”

“Yeah exactly, we don’t know what they’re up to! I don’t know what I would do with myself if something bad happened to you.”

“But you would protect me! And Steve! Steve would never let something happen to me, or you!”

You pull into the driveway and put your car in park, sighing, you rest your head on the steering wheel.

“If we come up with a safe plan, I will maybe think about it.”

“Yes! You’re the best!” Dustin gets out of the car and runs inside.

Why do you always get dragged into this stuff?

Taglist:

@loulouloueh​ @nighttwingg​  @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @labrujaprincess​ @welcomethefears​ @metuel18​ @polynesianmayo​ @readinthegarden12​ @alafolieee​ @yoheyyosup​ @loco-latte​ @daddystevee​ @hannarudick​ @gertenbert​ @70sgubler​ @used-avocado​ @ggclarissa​ @alonewolfsblog​ @phoebethepheebs​ @random-thoughts-003​ @red-2-0​

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

rating: General Audiences characters: Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) additional tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Keith (Voltron), ADHD Lance (Voltron), Paramedic Keith (Voltron), Chance Meetings, it's a hospital parking lot!, Lance owns a bright blue convertible from his college days, cheesy black skinny jeans get soaked and teach Keith a lesson in clothing choices on rainy days, also there's an umbrella, One Shot, Mentioned Hypothetical Car Accidents, Unresolved summary: Rainy days suck. Especially when they involve getting nearly run over by a maniac in a lighting blue car. word count: 1836

Sometimes, Keith’s glad he goes the extra mile to regularly haggle for a parking spot—one in the row located most conveniently close to the hospital building. (Medical professionals bargain so many things in exchange for favors. Or chocolate. Or coffee.) Such as today, as he sighs and turns up the speed of his windshield wipers again, his favorite playlist turned up to blastissimo against a backdrop of hammering rain.

It’s pouring so heavily that the city around him’s been reduced to tall gray smudges, thunder rumbling in the distance even through his music, and he can already imagine the accidents that might get called in before the storm’s end. Keith taps the side of his steering wheel pensively as he turns into the parking lot. Most of them are car accidents, and half of them aren’t pretty.

But then he reaches his parking spot and he thinks, How about a rear collision with a trunk that looks like a metal sandwich?

Someone has parked in his spot.

Keith stares at the nondescript blue sedan as if glaring harder might make it disappear and takes a mental note of its cheery New York license plate. If it belongs to any of his coworkers, he will find out, and there will be hell to pay.

There’s an umbrella in his back seat, of course, but he’s still irritated as he drives away in search of space. That was his parking spot, dammit.

He eventually pulls into what might as well be half a mile away on the other side of the lot, and Keith grumbles as he steps out with his umbrella into the storm and slams his car door shut behind him. Hospitals and their shitty parking space. Even standing still, he can already feel stray drops of rain pattering against the fabric of his jeans, the inch-thick currents of water trying to seep their way through the soles of his boots. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid.

A bright blue convertible speeds past right in front of him—dangerously fast, he can tell in the split second he registers it in his field of vision—and splatters his lower half with a deluge of cold asphalt water.

Great. Just fucking great.

Keith grumbles louder as he aggressively shoves the discomfort into the back of his mind, a few choice curse words aimed at the owner of that ridiculously vivid blue car, and starts striding through the storm. The faster he can get inside, the faster he can change into his uniform and hopefully leave his soaking pants somewhere in a closet to dry.

“Hey! Hey, wait—!”

Keith looks back with a frown to see a man splashing his way hurriedly towards him, stuffing his keys in a pocket of his bright orange raincoat. He glances back further and spots the blue convertible directly behind the stranger, parked only a few spaces away from his own, and scowls.

Ah. The driver of that neon blue car.

He’s tempted to start walking even faster—but the chafing is already horrible, and his hesitation’s cost him. The man’s too close now to make an escape possible, and Keith lets out a long breath before turning fully to wait for him.

He’s overestimated the orange of the man’s coat in this rain, at least; the color of his car hadn’t helped. He can see that it’s a bit faded actually, this close up (perhaps it’s old?), and paired with matching orange galoshes scuffed up at the toes. The stranger’s brown hair lies plastered on his scalp, making his head look comically carrot-shaped, and he’s panting by the time he reaches the shelter of Keith’s umbrella. It’s not terribly big, and Keith finds himself shifting away a fraction as Blue Car Man ends up closer than he’d like.

“Thanks,” Blue Car Man says, and runs a hand through his hair. “For waiting up. I forgot my umbrella.”

Keith doesn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at him, leaning away a bit further, but against his wishes, his scowl relaxes from an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ to a mere ‘I really have to deal with this?’; tufts of Blue Car Man’s hair are sticking up where he’d dragged his fingers through like a terrifying, award-worthy case of bedhead. “Sure. You soaked my jeans.”

Blue Car Man cocks his head, clearly confused, and Keith clarifies, “Your car. You drove right past me—way too fast for a hospital parking lot when it’s raining, by the way.”

His face immediately looks a bit horrified. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, glancing down at Keith’s black jeans and seeing that, yes, they were indeed soaked through. “I’m really in a hurry right now. My sister’s giving birth. It’s seven weeks early.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Can we start walking?”

Without another word, Keith starts walking towards the hospital again, and Blue Car Man follows quickly. Labor and delivery isn’t exactly his area, but he knows that seven weeks premature means alarming things, and he can’t exactly hate a complete stranger—who seems to be around his age—for a pair of wet jeans. Although speeding around a hospital parking lot is unequivocally a terrible idea. He has enough trouble delivering patients without maniacs in lightning blue cars thrown into the mix.

“Really sorry about the pants again,” Blue Car Man says suddenly. (He should really stop calling him ‘Blue Car Man.’) It’s accompanied by jingling, and Keith looks over to see the car keys back in the man’s hands. He seems to be fidgeting with them nervously. “Why are you here? You don’t seem to be hurrying for anything.”

“I work here.”

“Oh.”

The stranger fiddles more with his keys (stimming?), glancing up ahead to the hospital with a tight frown, and Keith takes the opportunity to study him more closely. He’s a few inches taller, judging by how he’s hunched over slightly to stay beneath the spokes of the umbrella, and his sharp, currently frowning jawline tapers into a narrow chin. His fingers match his features, thin and nimble, and his skin is a soft, dusty brown that reminds him of a couple of his Puerto Rican coworkers. But then the man suddenly turns back to him as he’s looking back up, and Keith slides his eyes away so fast—catching a glimpse of pensive, dark blue eyes—that he’s one hundred percent sure he was obvious as hell.

There’s a beat of silence, and then the man asks, “You don’t happen to work at wherever does childbirth, do you?”

Keith shakes his head, painfully aware of the man’s gaze on him, and subconsciously he leans away again an inch. “EMS. I’m a paramedic,” he adds after a second, in case he doesn’t know what EMS means.

“Oh. Must be a pretty crazy job.”

“Yeah.”

They fall into silence as they close in on the hospital entrance, and Keith glances back at the man again for a quick second. Fortunately, he seems to be distracted with his thoughts, still playing with the keys in his hands (probably stimming).

Unfortunately, he’s good-looking, and Keith can already hear his brother’s voice in his head, accompanied by his smiling, supportive face. Come on, it nags teasingly. Ask him out. Give him your number. It can’t hurt. He says no, you never see him again. He says yes, well... What do you have to lose?

But he knows exactly what he has to lose. His first few attempts at dating were good enough signs for him to know that it’s really, really not his thing. People stay inconsistent and difficult to figure out, third dates are either a myth or they eventually get fed up with each other, and frankly he never wants a repeat of Joshua again. For all Keith knows, this stranger would end up thinking that he’s “just a confused straight girl” too.

They reach the sheltering overhang, and Keith snaps his umbrella shut with little fanfare.

“Take the first right, then follow the signs to the maternity ward,” he says as thunder rumbles around them. “Whoever’s at the desk should be able to help you out.”

Something big seems about to slip out of his grasp—and Keith shouldn’t even care this much about some stranger he just met who soaked his jeans in essence of parking lot asphalt. He doesn’t even want a boyfriend. Maybe he’s just being stupid. Or maybe the universe will do him a kindness for once, considering everything else that’s happened so far today.

The man nods, slipping his car keys back into his pocket. “Okay.”

Keith shakes water off of his umbrella and raises an inquisitive eyebrow when he notices the man looking at him, still standing nearby. His chest tightens up, and he doesn’t know if it’s in fear or hope.

After a long second, the stranger holds out a hand to him and smiles, almost apologetically. “Thanks for the help, man. And the umbrella space. My name’s Lance.”

Keith returns a wry smile and shakes his offered hand, trying carefully to mimic the same amount of pressure. The man—Lance’s grip is soft and warm in the chill of the morning storm, and he knows he’s filing away far too many details. “Keith. I hope your sister and her baby end up all right.”

The smile grows into something grateful, and that’s what’s about to slip away. That smile. “Thanks. And I’m still really sorry about your pants.”

With that, their hands return to their sides, and Keith shoves his into a still-dry pocket of his jeans in search of the same pressure, flicking the umbrella in his other hand in an echo of sensation. Words are right on the tip of his tongue (“It’s fine. Hey, I know you’ve got a big emergency and this is kind of a bad time, but let me give you my number—”), but then the man offers him one more crooked quirk of the lips before turning away and pushing past the hospital doors. His faded orange raincoat flaps around into the first turn right, and Keith gives his umbrella one last vigorous shake as Lance disappears from his life just like that.

“Well, goodbye, I guess,” he says aloud to that empty hallway past the glass doors.

He shakes his head, bemused at his own silliness, and instead grins a little at Lance’s expense once he realizes that the man will probably be bursting into the maternity ward with hair that looks like a little kid tied it up in five different pigtails, then attacked it with hairspray. Maybe he should’ve warned him before he ran off.

Keith ties up his umbrella and takes the first left, walking with deliberate steps to avoid squeaking his boots. He needs to get to work—and, he remembers with an irritated sigh, track down whoever stole his parking spot today.

God, are his jeans soaking wet. He has to change soon, before the chafing drives him mad. Thank you, Lance.

[sickdaysofficial]

8 January - Cold

(Hey hey it’s ya boi @stardustdiadem or @seorabol, Hope you like my first submission!)

(Content Warning - Blood, violence)

I saw your fight from the street corner. Really, it was far from a fight. More like a beating. I start to feel sick just describing it. The rain was pouring down in sheets from the grey sky, congested with navy-blue clouds. The city was nearly lightless except for a few weakly lit windows. The drains were gurgling with the water rushing down the margins of the streets, starting to clog with trash and leaves. I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head and stuffed my hands in my pockets. The autumn wind blew fiercely and incessantly, chilling my bones and stiffening up my muscles. I had harshly misjudged the weather, as I’d been inside all day. Whatever. Guess I’d better be heading in soon, I thought, so I don’t get hit with pneumonia or something. I took a cigarette from my pocket and lit up, careful to stay under the overhanging balcony and fire escape. The warmth it gave was negligible, and I considered heading inside. I leaned against the wall and looked across the thin, almost deserted street. Deserted except for you two. I don’t want to ask what you were doing out here in this weather, in an old part of town and without a good raincoat. You looked confused and wide-eyed, like a rabbit ready to sprint at the first sign of danger. A hand landed on your shoulder and you spun around, on alert, trying to pull away. But the strong, steady grip slipped to your wrist and drew you close. You started to shiver, even harder than you already were. A man had you dragged close to him, and he was leaning over you, at least a foot taller than you. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, and I’m partly glad. He was disgusting. Cracked teeth, messy and matted hair, sleepy eyes looking to take advantage. You struggled and hit but he caught your hands and bent your arms as though they were little more than twigs. I considered running up to him, kicking him in a sensitive spot and leaving him to crumble. But I wasn’t about to put the both of us in danger just to play the hero. I wish I could’ve, though, at least a little. Once I saw what he did to you. You retaliated as best you could, spitting in his face and shouting. I could feel your fear from across the street. The guy hauled off, and a second later there was a crack and you cried out, hands going to your nose. Blood was pouring out from between your fingers, and you were swaying back and forth on your feet dangerously. My cigarette dropped out of my hand and I stepped forward, still cautious. As I look back now I’m shouting at myself. I should’ve ran to you, dragged you out of the way! At least then you wouldn’t be so vulnerable, so defenseless. I hate to see you like that, but against someone like him there was nothing you could do. He drew himself up to you again, and this time you didn’t even look up. Another punch, this time straight to your stomach and to the side. You screamed into the pouring rain and toppled back, collapsing onto the concrete. Your attacker kicked at your limp foot and snickered before turning away, hands in pockets, and rounded the next corner. I rush forward, my sneakers getting soaked in the streaming water. I kneel down next to you and slip my hands under your chest. Your hair is a mess of wet tendrils and your sweater and pants are soaked nearly through. I gasp as I hold your face. Your nose is bleeding out over your face and onto the pavement, looking crooked and smashed in. I beg you to wake up, to open your eyes, to give me some sign of life. Laying two fingers to your neck I can feel your pulse, quick and fluttering. Blood is still gushing out your nose and I have to keep myself from feeling faint. I let your head lay flat so the blood won’t drip down your shirt and call for you, tears starting in my eyes. Please, please open your eyes. Please tell me you’re still with me. I have you close, you’re safe here now. I need you to be alright. I brush your hair out of your face and try to dry you off. Eventually I just pull off my jacket and wrap it around your shoulders. I’m freezing and starting to get wet, but you need it more than me. Finally I see your eyes shifting and turning and your eyes starting to open, a little at a time. My heart skips a beat and I’m almost smiling until I see you cringe. You put a hand to your stomach and the other to your poor cracked nose. Your breath is wheezing and quick and you’re starting to hyperventilate. I ask you to please calm down, that I’m here for you. That I need you to take a deep breath. “I… I c-can’t breathe-” you choke out, your voice stifled by a sudden cough. You curl in on yourself in pain and start to shiver in the cold. I pull you back to sitting up and slip my arm under your shoulder. “Come on,” I say, helping to bring you up to your feet. You groan and almost collapse again, but I hold onto you tight. “It’s freezing out here; you’ll catch cold if you don’t bleed out before that. My place is just nearby. We’ll be there soon. You’ll be okay.” You nod and stagger on, and I’m having to support the majority of your weight until we get to my door. I lead you down my hall and unlock the door, flipping on the light as soon as we get in. I help you onto my couch and pull my hoodie off your shoulders. I rush to the bathroom and grab the box of bandages and such from under the sink, as well as a towel, and then to my bedroom to grab some blankets. I lay it on my coffee table, taking the towel and using it to wipe the blood and rain from your face. You wince and a few tears spring up from your eyes as I do so. “Oh god… Please don’t, it stings so bad,” you plead, too weak to push away. “I’m so sorry. I have to. You’re bleeding so badly,” I say. “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. You’ll be okay…” I press the towel to your nose and press. “Here, hold that as best you can. We need to stop the bleeding.” You reach a shaking hand to the towel and press, gritting your teeth against the pain. Blood flowing from your nostrils slows to a trickle and you struggle for breath even more. I run to the kitchen for a second, grabbing a fresh washcloth and some ice cubes. I tie them up and get back to you. The bag of ice slips to the floor and I pull the towel away from your nose. Your breathing is quick and erratic, and your face is going pale. The blood pouring out your nose is starting to slow and scab up, but it still looks crooked and cracked. I help you to take another deep breath and get you calm again. As calm as you can be, considering. I lay the bag of ice against your nose. You wince when the cold hits you, but the tenseness falls from your face as the cold numbs the stinging pain. I wrap a blanket around your shoulders and roll your rain-soaked pants up from your ankles. “That looked like a pretty awful blow to your stomach,” I say, trying to dry you off with the parts of the towel that aren’t bloodied. “How bad does it hurt?” “I feel like I just threw up, kind of,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and breathy. “And I felt like I couldn’t get enough air…” You pause, starting to cough and clutching at your stomach again. I help you to get over it and place the ice back over your nose. “Just relax, okay? I’m here for you,” I say. “My apologies, but I forgot to ask your name.” “Sunny,” you say. And I suppose you know my name by now. Once you feel up to walking on your own, I start to run a nice warm bath for you. It’s rare that I fill the tub anymore, and even rarer that I add bubbles, but I know that you need it. I leave some of my old sweatpants and an oversized shirt in the bathroom for you. Your clothes are soaked through and you’re shivering, your hair crusted with dirt and your own blood. I help you up and lead you into the bathroom, shutting the door on you and letting you wash up. Later in the evening the rain is letting up. You’ve dried off and have your short dark hair wrapped in a towel, and you kneel on the bed in front of me. “How’d that feel?” I ask, as I rummage in the bin full of bandages for some peroxide. “Really great,” you say. You look worn out and tired, anxious for a rest, but far better than I found you. You’re looking bright and warm with one of my blankets wrapped around your shoulders. There’s still a gaping cut on your nose that’s started to scab up purple and red. “Thank you so much for all this. I’m sorry-” “Don’t be,” I cut you off. “Even if I had some important job I would never just pass you by on the street and leave you to suffer. I’m glad your head isn’t too hurt, really- you collapsed right onto the pavement.” “Oh, really?” you say, blushing a little. “I have the slighest headache, and I think I pulled my neck a little. But everything is a little sore…” I lean close, a cotton swab dipped in peroxide in hand. “Alright. This might hurt a bit, but it’ll keep you from getting infected.” I dab at your cut, making sure to coat the open areas with peroxide. You wince and pull away. “S-sorry. It stings… I think it really might be broken…” “Do you think so?” I ask. I look closely at your nose. The ball is bruised a bright red and the bridge is swollen up. You nod and lean in close again. I take a wide bandage and stretch it across the cut. You give a tiny smile as you see yourself in the mirror, a strip of white covering your cheekbones and nose bridge. Then you lean back onto the pillows and stretch out your legs. “You’re tired, aren’t you,” I say, spreading another blanket atop you. “Don’t worry. You can rest here for the night and we’ll get you to a proper doctor in the morning to get that checked out.” “Alright,” you say, sleepy. Your eyes are starting to close. “That doesn’t mean I won’t drag you out to the couch when I have to get to bed,” I say. “Sorry. Just need my rest too.” “That’s fine,” you say, smiling again.“