#if a duck had been eaten it would have been 100% my fault because when he first started barking i didn't believe him lol

[msburgundy]

orange man good. total coyote death. no more ducks for dinner.

[fit-as-fxck]

wolves

“Like all little girls, I was taught to be grateful. I was taught to keep my head down, stay on the path, and get my job done. I was freaking Little Red Riding Hood. You know the fairy tale: It’s just one iteration of the warning stories girls are told the world over. Little Red Riding Hood heads off through the woods and is given strict instructions: Stay on the path. Don’t talk to anybody. Keep your head down hidden underneath your Handmaid’s Tale cape. And she does… at first. But then she dares to get a little curious and she ventures off the path. That’s of course when she encounters the Big Bad Wolf and all hell breaks loose. The message is clear: Don’t be curious, don’t make trouble, don’t say too much or BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN. I stayed on the path out of fear, not of being eaten by a wolf, but of being cut, being benched, losing my paycheck.

If I could go back and tell my younger self one thing it would be this: “Abby, you were never Little Red Riding Hood; you were always the wolf.” In 1995 wolves were re-introduced into Yellowstone National Park after being absent for seventy years. In those years, the number of deer had skyrocketed because they were unchallenged, alone at the top of the food chain. They grazed away and reduced the vegetation, so much that the river banks were eroding. Once the wolves arrived, they thinned out the deer through hunting. But more significantly, their presence changed the behavior of the deer. Wisely, the deer started avoiding the valleys, and the vegetation in those places regenerated. Trees quintupled in just six years. Birds and beavers started moving in. The river dams the beavers built provided habitats for otters and ducks and fish. The animal ecosystem regenerated. But that wasn’t all. The rivers actually changed as well. The plant regeneration stabilized the river banks so they stopped collapsing. The rivers steadied—all because of the wolves’ presence.

See what happened here? The wolves, who were feared as a threat to the system, turned out to be its salvation. Are you picking up what I’m laying down here? Women are feared as a threat to our system—and we will also be our society’s salvation. Our landscape is overrun with archaic ways of thinking about women, about people of color, about the “other,” about the rich and the poor, about the the powerful and the powerless—and these ways of thinking are destroying us. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

We will not Little Red Riding Hood our way through life. We will unite our pack, storm the valley together and change the whole bloody system.”

“Rule One: MAKE FAILURE YOUR FUEL - Here’s something the best athletes understand, but seems like a hard concept for non-athletes to grasp. Non-athletes don’t know what to do with the gift of failure. So they hide it, pretend it never happened, reject it outright—and they end up wasting it. Listen: Failure is not something to be ashamed of, it's something to be POWERED by. Failure is the highest octane fuel your life can run on. You gotta learn to make failure your fuel. When I was on the Youth National Team, only dreaming of playing alongside Mia Hamm, I had the opportunity to visit the National Team’s locker room. The thing that struck me most wasn’t my heroes' grass-stained cleats or their names and numbers hanging above their lockers—it was a picture. It was a picture that someone had taped next to the door so that It would be the last thing every player saw before she headed out to the training pitch. You might guess it was a picture of their last big win, of them standing on a podium accepting gold medals—but it wasn’t. It was a picture of their longtime rival—the Norwegian national team—celebrating after having just beaten the USA in the 1995 World Cup.

In that locker room, I learned that in order to become my very best—on the pitch and off—I’d need to spend my life letting the feelings and lessons of failure transform into my power. Failure is fuel. Fuel is power. Women, listen to me. We must embrace failure as our fuel instead of accepting it as our destruction.

Wolf Pack: Fail up. Blow it, and win.

Rule Two: LEAD FROM THE BENCH - Imagine this: You’ve scored more goals than any human being on the planet—female or male. You’ve co-captained and led Team USA in almost every category for the past decade. And you and your coach sit down and decide together that you won’t be a starter in your last World Cup for Team USA. So… that sucked. You’ll feel benched sometimes, too. You’ll be passed over for the promotion, taken off the project—you might even find yourself holding a baby instead of a briefcase—watching your colleagues “get ahead.” Here’s what’s important. You are allowed to be disappointed when it feels like life’s benched you. What you aren’t allowed to do is miss your opportunity to lead from the bench. During that last World Cup, my teammates told me that my presence, my support, my vocal and relentless belief in them from the bench is what gave them the confidence they needed to win us that championship. If you’re not a leader on the bench, don’t call yourself a leader on the field. You’re either a leader everywhere or nowhere. And by the way: the fiercest leading I’ve ever seen has been done between mother and child. Parenting is no bench. It just might be the big game.

Wolf Pack: Wherever you’re put, lead from there.

Rule Three: CHAMPION EACH OTHER - During every 90-minute soccer match there are a few magical moments when the ball actually hits the back of the net and a goal is scored. When this happens, it means that everything has come together perfectly—the perfect pass, the perfectly timed run, every player in the right place at exactly the right time: all of this culminating in a moment in which one player scores that goal. What happens next on the field is what transforms a bunch of individual women into a team. Teammates from all over the field rush toward the goal scorer. It appears that we’re celebrating her: but what we’re REALLY celebrating is every player, every coach, every practice, every sprint, every doubt, and every failure that this one single goal represents. You will not always be the goal scorer. And when you are not—you better be rushing toward her. Women must champion each other. This can be difficult for us. Women have been pitted against each other since the beginning of time for that one seat at the table. Scarcity has been planted inside of us and among us. This scarcity is not our fault. But it is our problem. And it is within our power to create abundance for women where scarcity used to live. As you go out into the world: Amplify each others’ voices. Demand seats for women, people of color and all marginalized people at every table where decisions are made. Call out each other’s wins and just like we do on the field: claim the success of one woman, as a collective success for all women. Joy. Success. Power. These are not pies where a bigger slice for her means a smaller slice for you. These are infinite. In any revolution, the way to make something true starts with believing it is. Let’s claim infinite joy, success, and power—together.

Wolf Pack: Her Victory is your Victory. Celebrate it.

Rule Four: DEMAND THE BALL - When I was a teenager, I was lucky enough to play with one of my heroes, Michelle Akers. Michelle was tall like I am, built like I’d be built, and the most courageous soccer player I’d ever seen play. She personified every one of my dreams. We were playing a small sided scrimmage—5 against 5. We were eighteen-year-olds and she was—Michelle Akers—a chiseled, thirty-year-old powerhouse. For the first three quarters of the game, she was taking it easy on us, coaching us, teaching us about spacing, timing and the tactics of the game. By the fourth quarter, she realized that because of all of this coaching, her team was losing by three goals. In that moment, a light switched on inside of her.

She ran back to her own goalkeeper, stood one yard away from her, and screamed: GIVE. ME. THE. FUCKING. BALL. And the goalkeeper gave her the effing ball. And she took that ball and she dribbled through our entire effing team and she scored. Now this game was winner’s keepers, so if you scored you got the ball back. So, as soon as Michelle scored, she ran back to her goalie, stood a yard away from her and screamed: GIVE ME THE BALL. Michelle Akers knew what her team needed from her at every moment of that game. Don't forget that until the fourth quarter, leadership had required Michelle to help, support, and teach, but eventually leadership called her to demand the ball. Women. At this moment in history leadership is calling us to say: GIVE ME THE FUCKING BALL.

In closing, I want to leave you with the most important thing I’ve learned since leaving soccer. I defined myself as Abby Wambach, soccer player—the one who showed up and gave 100 percent to my team and fought alongside my wolf pack to make a better future for the next generation. Without soccer who would I be? I’m still the same Abby. I still show up and give 100 percent—now to my new pack—and I still fight every day to make a better future for the next generation. You see, soccer didn’t make me who I was. I brought who I was to soccer, and I get to bring who I am wherever I go. And guess what? So do you.

As you leave here today and everyday going forward: Don’t just ask yourself, “What do I want to do?” Ask yourself: “WHO do I want to be?” Because the most important thing I've learned is that what you do will never define you. Who you are always will.

And who you are, are the wolves.” - Abby Wambach, 2018 commencement speech at Barnard

[nerdy-nonbinary]

For What It’s (You’re) Worth

The first time it happens, he’d been dead for three weeks. At least, that’s what it felt like. Time worked differently in the astral plane, but Magnus adjusted. It’s not like he would be leaving any time soon.

Julia just pulled a tray of scones out of the oven (she used to be a horrible baker, but when Kravitz pulled her soul away from the masses of the Astral Plane, she had plenty of time to practice. It’s not like Magnus would notice much, he never had the best taste buds), and he was sanding the finishing touches on a rocking chair (just like the one he made for Dad back home, the same curve of the arm and paw print carved into the headrest, but so much more refined, nearly 100 years of skill poured into the grain), and he was recounting his perilous adventure through the Goldcliff Trust.

“So we had this brilliant plan all mapped out, and then Taako had to go and grab my belt, like an idiot, and pull my pants down. And then he falls, but before the vines get to him, he casts some spell and poofs outta existence. So now Taako’s a disembodied voice, my dick is out, and this all coulda been avoided if he cast the damn spell sooner.” Julia lets out a laugh, almost dropping the scones on the floor, and Johann takes the moment of distraction to grab one off the tray and slip through her legs and out the back door.

“Johann! Bad boy!” she calls after him, but there’s no trace of anger in her smile. Magnus chuckles and looks back at the chair.

“But here’s the thing. This whole fiasco, facing a life-or-death moment with my pants at my ankles, all of it… this was the first time the three of us had worked together, really. Like sure, we’d been alongside each other, but it was just me swinging Railsplitter, Taako throwing some spells around and Merle doing… nothing usually, but Merle being Merle. But here, the three of us strategized, we talked, even if it failed in the end, we were a team, and…” Magnus trailed off, and the white noise of sandpaper on wood cut out, leaving the room eerily quiet.

Julia looked at her love with concern, his hunched back hiding his face. “Magnus, sweetheart, is everything o-”

“I’m good!” He interrupted. “Just a bit tired. Too into the zone, y’know? I’m gonna lie down for a little bit.” He stood, grabbing a scone and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Delicious as always, Jules.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet!”

“True, but everything you make is delicious. You’re the best baker I’ve ever met, and I’d tell Taako that to his face!” They both laughed as he left the room, but it was clear he was avoiding some issue. She knew him too well to believe the saccharine shtick he was putting on. He spent so much time worrying about others, bleeding heart that he was, but he had trouble letting anyone help him. She new better than to push the issue, but she hoped he’d tell her what was bothering him so much.

The next time was less sudden, and Julia thought she was starting to catch on. When Magnus revealed who was singing the song of the crystal kingdom, of the scientist Lucas and his journey to attempt to revive his mother, she could hear the pain in his voice, how he hesitated and stumbled over his words, the storyteller within him dying down.

“Magnus, you don’t need to tell me everything if it’s going to hurt you.” She tells him after he tells of Lucas letting his mother go, and he had blinked back tears. “I don’t need to know every moment of your life’s story, it’s not like you know all of mine.” She grabs his hand and places a gentle kiss on it.

A silence lingers between them, and Julia is afraid he’s going to leave, to isolate himself to stop others from seeing him be vulnerable and offering help. But after an eternity of silent companionship, he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“Julia, I don’t tell you everything because you need to know. I tell you because I want you to know, so I can talk about everything that happened after and maybe forget that you weren’t there. The Julia from before didn’t know I kept a collection of robot arms, or that some bat-shit crazy deals warlock collected my DNA, or how much I fucking love ducks! YOU still don’t know how much I love ducks, because I haven’t gotten there yet, and I wish I didn’t have to tell you all this because if you were there then you would just! Fucking! Know!”

Magnus’ voice had started quiet, but had ended in a shout, punctuated with punches to the table that shook through the walls of their house. The echo of the final blow rang out, and Magnus stood before Julia could say a word. “I’m sorry I yelled. I’m going for a walk.” He left the room before she could stop him, gently shutting the door behind him. Personal space was difficult to find, on their astral island, and while they usually spent every moment together, cherishing each other’s presence, everyone needed a time to cool off, and neither of them were excluded from that. Hell, Julia secretly felt glad he left, so she could have her own space within the house, as he momentarily claimed the outside.

It was always difficult to remember how much of her husband’s life she hadn’t been there for. With those extra 100 years he’s vaguely mentioned, their years together were barely a blip on his timeline, yet he spent so much time just trying to make her proud. Guilt roiled in her gut. This imaginary weight she’d placed on his shoulders sometimes made her think he’d have been better off without her. But that made her more nauseous, the guilt greater, because how could she ever think that she and Magnus, who never forgot her, who she taught and trained until they were equals, who fought side by side, who had earned themselves an private space in the astral plane- but had she earned it, or him? Even if she hadn’t been there, he still would have lived those extra hundred years, and defeated whatever villain had nearly destroyed the universe, and he would’ve done it without the pain she and Dad and all the rest of Raven’s Roost had left him. Maybe he’d have been better off witho-

The sound of unoiled hinges broke into her storm of thoughts. Magnus entered and sat beside her, taking her rough calloused hands in his, and looked her in the eyes so deeply Julia had to fight the urge to look away. “Julia, I am so sorry for before. I wasn’t thinking and i just-” he paused and let out a sigh. “You know I’m not blaming you, right? I’m not upset with you for not being there.”

“I know,”

“It wasn’t your fault, but I don’t mind thinking about the past. I love that I get to share every single moment of my life with you, even the ones where we would have been apart.” He’s crying now, and Julia can’t hold back her own tears, and they hold each other in a blissful peace, ignoring the pain that loomed just beyond in their minds.

Julia pulled back and placed a kiss to his forehead. “I love your stories, dear, but it’s okay to take your time, and breaks. Kravitz told us we had plenty of time.” She smiled at him, and he returned it, his scars bright and resilient on his skin. “In any case, it’s getting late, so let’s pause, okay?”

He nodded, holding his hand out to lead her towards their bed. “Tomorrow will be a great one. I can tell you how I met my best friend in the whole plane.”

And maybe Julia’s guilt wasn’t entirely gone, but she chides herself, for ever, ever believing she and Magnus should never have met.

The third time it happened, both of them could see it coming from a mile away. Suddenly, Magnus had to backtrack through 100 years worth of memories, and though she could tell he had been preparing himself for this moment, he barely made it through the first cycle before breaking down. Sobs racked his body as he told her how he stayed on the first plane, prepared to die before their mission had truly even begun. She rubbed his back, waiting for him to catch his breath, and she could tell the next days would be a difficult journey for both of them, but her husband especially.

After a time, his choked sobs became hiccups, and he was able to speak again. “Looking back now, I can’t believe I threw my life away like that. I was stupid, I was impulsive, ridiculously so, but… the Magnus from that first cycle didn’t have anything to live for.” The power of those words struck a silence between them. Julia wanted to say something, to reassure him, but she didn’t know him back then. She couldn’t say whether that Magnus, fresh off his own plane, would have have any reason to keep on living. And that terrified her.

Magnus kept going, breaking through the stifling silence, pausing often under long and heavy breaths. “But I stayed, and I watched the Starblaster fly off. And I made sure every single last cub I could find was hidden away, so, when they got eaten, at least they didn’t have to watch. But I did. I fought off the shadows as long as I could, and I watched the Hunger come closer, and then I was gone.” The quiet was suffocating now, and Julia realized she hadn’t taken a breath since Magnus started talking again. She took in a deep lungful, trying to calm her trembling lungs for her husband’s sake. He was the one going back to those horrible memories for her.

Almost as if reading her mind, he said, “Jules, it’s okay if you’re upset. This isn’t a happy part of the story. You don’t have to be strong for me.”

She let out a hoarse laugh, tears beginning to build in her eyes. “I thought you said you never learned any magic. How’d you know what I was thinking?”

He chuckled softly. “When you’re friends with lugheads like Taako and Merle, you gotta pick up on that kinda thing. Those two couldn’t process their emotions if their lives depended on it.” Julia squeezed his hand, and the pair returned to a more comfortable silence, taking in the cabin that housed the rest of their lives (or deaths).

“Julia, are you mad at me?”

She whipped around to face Magnus, who was smiling at her even as tears continued to stream down his face. She scoffed weakly. “Why in this damn plane would I hate you?”

He laughed, and a few more tears fell. “I mean, back when I joined the IPRE, I was just looking to be a hero, some fancy cause to die for. I was practically suicidal. I would understand if that upset you.”

Julia stared at her husband, mouth agape, before swiftly punching him in the arm. Not enough to hurt, but enough to knock some sense into to him that, hopefully, reached his head. “Magnus Terry Burnsides, why the hell would I be mad at you for that? I’m upset because I love you, Maggie. I’m upset because you weren’t afraid to die, and I’m so thankful that you had friends amazing to enough to live for.” He gazed back at her, before burst into laughter. She stared back at him, incredulous, before succumbing to his mirth and laughing with him.

“Y-you know,” he said, fighting for air between bursts of giggling. “When I was in that mannequin, and Carey started crying cause she thought I was dead? That’s when it hit me. That was the final swing of the hammer against my dense head to make me realize, people would be sad if I was gone.”

“That long?”

“What can I say? I was the only crew member on a scientific research team who couldn’t learn any magic. That has to be some achievement in stupidity.”

Again, the pair dissolved into laughter, holding each other tightly and trying to comes back to their senses, before one grinned and sent them spiraling back into hysterics. Finally, after an eternity, they relaxed, and pleasant smile on both faces still shiny with tear tracks, left by both join and pain. Wrapped in each other arms, they savored the safety of their home, the dangers of the past planes away.

“I love you, Magnus,” Julia whispered in his ear. “We all love you.”

“I know, Jules. I know.”

[alluran]

autumn leaves

klancetober day two | direct follow-up w/ even more romantic gestures to one we were in screaming color

“Keith, buddy. I know we’ve had our rough patches and you’re probably still out for revenge from the last prank, but does it all really warrant you bringing a literal bag of garbage into my apartment when I’m already sick?”

Keith set the grocery bag on the coffee table in front of Lance’s overzealous cold cocoon on the couch. “Be prepared to eat those words.”

“Sorry, Hunk’s got me on a strict soup and saltines regimen, nothing too acidic.”

He rolled his eyes as Lance struggled to sit up in the pile of blankets he had tangled himself into since the first sign of a fever. He bit the inside of his cheek when Lance finally got halfway to sitting all of the way up. “What was that two weeks ago about taking the boy out of the sub-tropical climate?”

“Okay it’s not my fault that I enjoy seasonal changes, but my body does not. You’re really out to kick a man when he’s already down, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” Keith called over his shoulder as he left Lance to find his legs in the mess of blankets, He pulled out his phone to read over a text from Shiro and started to pull Sprite and soup from the fridge. It took some effort to hunt down the tapped supply of saltines in the cabinet, but he got everything and made his way back to Lance.

Who was spilled over the edge of the couch, one leg still hopelessly tangled in the blankets and the other sticking straight out in the air.

“How have you not died without supervision yet?”

Lance sniffed. “I’ll have you know this doesn’t happen every time.” Lance tracked Keith’s movements, setting the crackers and drink down on the table to put soup in the microwave. “But please, take your time. My immune system and upper body strength is just compromised and all of the blood is rushing painfully to my head.”

Keith crossed him arms and raised his eyebrow down at Lance. “I don’t know, I think your brain could use a little extra blood flow for a change.”

Lance groaned and slid more onto the floor before Keith finally took mercy on him and came to help him. Lance knew he ran warm, even warmer with the cold from hell wreaking havoc on his skin despite the care he took in it, but the first brush of Keith’s hand on his arm was incredible. He was a very tactile person. Keith had nice, strong hands. So sue him if he couldn’t think of anything better than the relief of cool, calloused fingers wrapped around his arm before they warmed up as Lance was righted. Having a cold felt isolating, not that he expected Hunk to still be down for cuddles and hugs when he was gross and contagious, but he was weak for something more than a measured shoulder pat or brief circle of fingers between his shoulder blades.

Which were good things, he wasn’t complaining.

He just happened to buzz with the want of someone beside him despite the coughing and the worrying amount of empty tissue boxes surrounding him.

Lance settled back into the couch and sighed when Keith’s hand didn’t immediately pull away but brushed down his arm.

Man, he was tired again already.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Lance peeked one eye open at Keith. “Rest is literally what I need right now, Keef.”

“I promised Hunk I would make sure you ate something before you went back into another coma nap.”

“Hm, and what does this have to do with the gift of trash?”

The microwave beeped, cutting off Keith’s retort. Lance’s eyes snapped to the grocery bag on his coffee table with dirt or something in it. Keith probably brought him the plague without even realizing it. Well, it was nice while it lasted. If he died at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the god awful stuffy nose that made just existing suck. The second he didn’t have it, he was going to devote a whole four hours to appreciating cleared up sinuses.

Why had he been so ungrateful before this?

Breathing unhindered was great. He could sit or lay down in any position without his body suffocating itself. He wasn’t just restricted to the one position that allowed him to breathe but may have permanently molded his back into a lowercase r.

“Solid point, I’ll remember to be more grateful I don’t have all of that.” Keith gestured to Lance as he set Hunk’s soup in front of him. “But being dramatic about it is just going to make you more miserable, so..”

Oh, he’d said that out loud.

Freaking Benadryl.

Lance shook his head and reached for the bowl when he noticed Keith go down his hallway. “Uh, where ya going, bud?”

“You’re out of tissues.”

“Oh, we might have another box in the hallway closet? Whiiiiich you just passed?”

Keith ducked out of his line of sight, definitely sneaking into his bedroom. “Yep.”

“Hey now! Just because a man’s down, doesn’t mean you get to tear through his room. Get your mullet back here, you jerk.” Keith didn’t answer him. Lance knew he could definitely hear him. His body lurched with the thought of standing. So taking Keith down was out of the question. “I will come to your house and move all of your furniture a fraction of an inch so you stub every one of your toes if you do not get back out here now, Kogane.”

The sound of the hallway closet opening and shutting muffled Keith’s words. “I don’t think it has the impact you’re hoping for if you tell me about it beforehand.”

Keith appeared back in the living room, tossing an unopened box of tissues on the couch beside Lance and set the camera he gave him beside the mysterious bag of trash.

Panic rose in Lance’s chest because he knew for a fact that he had a gnarly pillow crease on the left side of his face that went from his ear, up his cheekbone, and over his eyebrow. He was in a t-shirt that had been washed and worn so many times that the collar never went back to normal, it hung low against his collarbone making it look more like it had been worn and not washed. His pores screamed at him because he had to cut his skin routine short for the sake of rest and not standing longer than ten minutes at a time. Add to that the two empty tissue boxes, overflowing waste basket of used tissues and saltine packages. It was a waking nightmare.

“W-what. Whatchya doing with my camera?” His voice climbed several octaves as Keith turned it on and adjusted the settings.

Once he was done, he set it in front of Lance and relief washed over him. At least if Keith decided that whatever he had planned paled in comparison for a revenge opportunity, then Lance had some chance to lean forward fast enough to fight Keith for it.

“You’ll see. Also, eat before the soup gets cold.” Keith sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, not pausing in his work as he untied the grocery bag and began to pull things out.

Cold medicine was seriously messing with Lance because he was in no way prepared for Keith to start pulling leaves out of the bag and lining them up on the coffee table like it made the best sense in the world. Like this was something people did. Ate soup and saltines while staring at leaves in various stages of decay. Total normal, wholesome American past time. 100%.

Lance lifted the spoon to his mouth and swallowed, the warmth uncurling some of the tension in his chest. “You’re gonna have to give me a hint here. I’m lost. And vaguely still concerned you’re going to throw trash at me.”

Keith sighed, looking back up at Lance through his eyelashes like Lance had asked the world’s dumbest question. “You’re too sick to go to the park and I didn’t know how long it would take you to get better.”

He said it so earnestly, Lance didn’t have the heart to question him further. He sat back and ate in silence, watching Keith focus back on his work as he carefully pulled more leaves out of the sack and lined them up on the table, occasionally switching one leaf with another in the line. A deep burgundy leaf, almost the size and width of Keith’s palm was at Keith’s right, followed by a vibrant red. The leaf looked like a Valentine with its shape resembling a heart. Keith rifled through the bag and considered a yellow and a green one, setting them both aside to rummage for an orange one.

Lance swallowed thickly as he tried to make no sudden movement or noise as he set the half eaten bowl of soup back on the coffee table and reached for the camera.

No way.

No. Way.

There was no way Keith couldn’t hear how fast and loud Lance was breathing through his mouth, but he kept working. Lance raised the camera to his eye, finding the top of Keith’s dark head in the viewfinder, his small ponytail curled toward his neck. He lowered the shot to catch the line of leaves, laid out in the start of an impressive gradient. Lance made sure none of his food or the tissue boxes interrupted the frame as he focused and hoped Keith wouldn’t get suspicious and look up too soon.

Lance bit his lip and clicked the shutter button, the noise and flash catching Keith’s attention a beat later.

“Lance.”

“Told you I’d get your picture.” He smiled, the brief irritation on Keith’s face falling away as he looked at Lance with a small tilt to his mouth.

There was a brief tickle at the back of his head, he thought he had seen the look before. He didn’t know what to make of it yet.

Hunk was tired when he got home, his brain complete goo after his shift at work. It took him a solid three tries to get the door unlocked and then, two more times to get the key out of the lock once it was opened. It really shouldn’t have almost brought him to tears, but there he was. Emotionally drained and ready to fight the front door.

It was a miracle Lance had slept through his very loud tussle, he was a light sleeper for the most part and since he struggled breathing it was a fight for Lance’s body to relax enough to allow him the kind of fitful rest he needed. A spark of panic rushed through him. Hunk softly shut the door and walked closer to the couch, studying the mountain of blankets currently hiding his best friend and waited.

Lance shuddered in his sleep and coughed.

“Okay, good. Good. Very good. You’re not dead.” Hunk scrubbed a hand over his face and kicked off his shoes. “Obviously you can’t breathe better yet, but not dead. That’s all I’m asking for here. Wha-” He turned to the table, ready to tackle the damage Lance did on the tissue boxes and a filmy soup bowl.

His brain came to a painful halt.

The information his eyeballs took in did not compute. He was tired and stressed, but he didn’t think it was bad enough be into full on, very vivid and convincing hallucination of a clean coffee table. Even Lance’s waste basket was empty and had a fresh bag in it. Hunk gingerly walked backwards toward the kitchen.

A reverse robber? Some perverse serial murder that was hiding in the hall closet that went out of their way to make everything look pleasant before the real nightmare? The ghost he definitely heard crinkle a candy wrapper behind him the other day when no one else was home???

He really couldn’t handle a poltergeist.

Sure they started out not as threatening and okayish but they never stayed that way. It was October, they had to be at Maximum Strength or something. They cleaned Lance’s soup bowl, even let it properly dry in the dish rack, and twisted the open saltine pack shut with one of their chip clips. Major props.

Hunk went back out to the living room, Lance still passed out and unaware of the panic settling in. They needed to thank the ghost and then get out. No waiting. No going to sleep with the TV on. No s-

Okay, definitely an evil poltergeist because there was literally a bag of trash sitting on the floor at the end of the couch Lance was laying on. It was probably leaking death spores into the air.

He carefully brushed his toe against the bag - maybe the spiders and scorpions were just hidden and waiting for him to get close before they would crawl out.

Nothing happened.

Hunk leaned over the bag and saw a scrap of white that sat on the top of the- were those leaves? He plucked the object off of the top and stared at it.

It was a solid minute later and he was still staring.

The picture answered some things, mostly there were only more questions. He understood it in parts - the top of Keith’s head angled over the coffee table, leaves laid out in a gradient, the flash that washed out his skin in comparison to his black t-shirt, his relaxed posture. Put together? Zero sense.

Hunk glanced over the picture at Lance. “What have you guys been up to?”

a/n: bless hunk, honestly.

and the candy wrapper thing happened to me today while I was at my mom’s doing laundry. this one got away from me a little a bit, but I had fun with it. I wanted to combine days one and two in a chapter so the story is now up on ao3! read it here.

[sevenbirdsinflight]

Tres Hero Boys

@questbedhead’s post inspired me to write arcswap fic because it’s such a great concept. this was definitely supposed to be short and then it spiraled out of control

Their first mission goes pretty terribly.

The man they’ve been asked to subdue doesn’t look like much. He’s tall and thin, dressed in the most ridiculous costume – a shimmering black cloak over a long, purple dress emblazoned with a black spider symbol. The staff in his hands also has a spider at the top of it, and Taako has to give him points for sticking to his theme even if it does look tacky as hell. (Not that the matching red spandex uniforms they’ve been forced into are much better.)

The man himself doesn’t look like a threat – he’s even smiling and waving at them as they approach – but behind him stands a massive, black spider with dozens of angry, red eyes, and Taako takes one look at it and thinks fuck this.

He signed up to get super powers, not get eaten by a giant spider.

Luckily, Magnus looks enthusiastic enough for the both of them, so while he and Merle rush towards the man, Taako hangs back. The captain reminded them that they have to stay in range as they were leaving, so he sticks around instead of running, but he keeps as much distance from the fight as he possibly can. 100 yards is pretty far, though; he figures as long as he keeps them within sight, it should be fine.

Magnus leaps straight into the fight and tries to literally wrestle the giant spider to the ground while Merle sends some tree roots at the man. The spider manages to push Magnus away, and he slides a few feet across the ground and into the side of a parked car. He jumps up quickly, then picks up the entire car and holds it over his head, ready to swing down on the spider as a makeshift weapon.

Taako can’t help but grin gleefully from his spot on the sidelines – this is one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever seen, and Magnus may be a hotheaded dumbass, but he sure is entertaining. Taako steps back to lean against the wall behind him so he can enjoy the show more comfortably, but the minute he moves backwards, he feels something inside him snap.

The little bundle of power he’s felt inside himself ever since the transformation vanishes instantly, and then he hears Magnus start yelling as both he and the car topple over, the weight suddenly too much for him to handle.

“What happened?” the captain asks. The three of them sit across from him in his office, still dressed in their stupid red uniforms. Magnus has a sling around one arm and an entire half of his body is purpling into a painful looking bruise. He has some dried blood smudged under his nose. Merle has a black eye and fairly bad road rash down one arm.

Taako’s absolutely fine.

He feels several eyes drilling into him, but he ignores them, studying his nails. The polish has chipped, so he resolves to repaint them when they’re done. Maybe blue this time? Or should he match it to their uniforms?

“I would have had him if Taako hadn’t run away,” Magnus says, and both his teammates bristle in response.

“You would have?” Merle barks. “I was there too!”

“I didn’t run away,” Taako argues, because he might be a coward but he doesn’t appreciate Magnus accusing him of it. “I was giving you the space to do your thing, my man.”

“Yeah, too much space,” Magnus says, his voice much too loud in the small office.

The captain pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I told you your abilities wouldn’t work if you weren’t within 100 yards of each other.”

“Well, I didn’t bring a yard stick with me,” Taako says. “I misjudged the distance.”

“Then I have a suggestion,” the captain says. He lowers her hand and directs a steely-eyed stare at him. It’s more intimidating than Taako would admit, especially since the captain is like half his height. “Stick closer to your teammates next time.”

It doesn’t take Magnus long to get over the whole incident. He grumbles and glares at Taako for the rest of the day, but by breakfast he’s smiling and cheery again, describing the dog he saw recently with great excitement and wondering aloud whether the captain’s “no dogs in the ‘Burg” rule has any exceptions while Taako tries his best to ignore him.  

It’s far faster than it would have taken Taako to get over it, but he suspects Magnus might actually be incapable of holding a grudge – though he does insist Taako do everything he can’t do one-handed as an apology. He accepts this without argument, because opening a few jars is far better than having to actually apologize.

When Magnus’s arm finally heals, the captain forces them through more training before he sends them out in the field again. They get paired off against Team Sweet Flips, and surprisingly manage this fight a lot better than they had the real one.

They still lose, but at least they manage to take out Carey before Noelle grabs their flag.

Taako gets more involved in their second mission, but it’s only partially because of the captain’s orders and mostly because he really enjoys taunting their opponent.

“Can you do anything?” he laughs as Jenkins fails once again to hit him. “Because I can do this!” He lets his body grow and stretch, reshaping into a new form that towers above the man before him, and he hopes his smug grin remains even as a T-Rex.

Jenkins pales, and Taako lashes his sharp teeth a few times just for the affect. He feels powerful and badass, and it doesn’t even matter than Magnus and Merle are focused on subduing the monsters Jenkins create instead of helping him, because Taako’s got this. He’s good.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Magnus dart away from the rest of them, charging determinedly towards something Taako can’t see, and dread pools in his stomach as he realizes what’s about to happen just a few seconds before it does.

Taako tries to yell at him to stop, but forgets he can’t speak in this form. Magnus keeps moving, and then there’s a snap, and Taako’s back in his normal form.

Jenkins stares at him in surprise for just a moment, before his mouth pulls up into a delighted grin. “Who’s a shitty superhuman now?” he taunts as another monster appears behind him. Taako can’t even duck before a massive, meaty fist punches him right in the face.

The black eye is almost impossible to hide with makeup, but Taako still tries. He’s pulling out a new shade of cover-up to try when there’s a knock at his bedroom door. He doesn’t even look up to yell, “Go away, Magnus!”

His teammate had been far guiltier about getting Taako hurt than Taako had been after their first fight, and he’d been hovering over him since they got out of their debrief with the captain, until Taako yelled at him to leave him alone and barricaded himself in his room. If he hears one more apology, he’s going to scream.

The door swings open anyways, and he turns to yell at Magnus before he realizes it’s Lup.

“Woof,” she says. “That’s quite the shiner.”

He deflates as she jumps up on his bed. “Yeah, Maggie got out of range and let me get my ass kicked.”

“That’s the one that calls himself ‘The Hammer’, right?”

“That’s the one,” Taako says, then sighs and throws the cover-up down in defeat and moves to sit next to his sister, dropping his head down onto her shoulder.

“You guys still having trouble staying in range?” she asks as she brings a hand up to card gently through his hair. “What happened this time?”

“Magnus saw someone in trouble or something and ran after them.”

“Well,” Lup says. “Can’t fault him for that, I guess.”

“I can,” he says stubbornly, and Lup snorts, then flicks him on the forehead.

“You’re still beautiful, babe. Don’t worry.”

He smiles at that, then asks, “How’s your group?” Lup groans dramatically.

“They paired me up with two nerds, Koko. I don’t know who’s worse. Mr. I-Wanted-To-Be-A-Conductor wants to play classical music during our training, but Barry thinks ketchup is spicy. Ketchup, Koko.”

She sounds truly pained by this, and Taako can’t help but laugh.

“Barry’s pretty good in a fight, though, even though he really doesn’t look it, and we’ve been kicking ass so far, but Kravitz yelled at me after the last fight for starting a fire. He gets that’s like my whole thing, right?”

“He sounds like the worst,” Taako tells her, hating the guy just on principle.

“And Magnus sounds like a dumbass,” Lup adds.

“They should have just put us together.” It’s sort of a joke, except that he means it with his whole heart.

“Nah,” Lup says, grabbing his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You couldn’t keep up with me.”

Their third fight is successful.

Taako stays with the group this time, though he still hangs back as much as possible. Turns out that as long as he stays within range, Magnus still does most of the work. Merle sort of helps, though the vines he sends at Marvee seem to trip Magnus up more than the bad guy.

Still, they manage to successfully subdue Marvee with relatively no injuries. Magnus get a few cuts on his face, but they’re more superficial than anything and he actually seems pretty proud of them.

The captain even tells them, “Good job,” after their debief.

It actually feels pretty good to come back victorious, and Taako goes to find Lup to rub their victory in her face. Looks like hers isn’t the only team that can kick bad guy butt.

The next time they get sent out, they’re supposed to track down a giant worm. Taako’s not even kidding. A fucking giant worm that spits fire and has been terrorizing the city’s citizens. What the hell has his life become?

They track the worm to the subway tunnels it’s using to get around, and Taako takes one look at the stairs down to the subway and changes his mind about being a team player.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” he says from the top step. Magnus is already almost to the bottom, Merle not too far behind him. “I’m not going in there. You chucklefucks have fun. Taako’s good out here.”

“But Taako you have to come with us,” Magnus argues.

“Nope. Uh-uh.” He folds his arms over his chest and points his face stubbornly in the air. “You do what you want, but I’m not going down into a dark, underground tunnel to get eaten by a worm. Taako’s not going into that walking death trap, no thanks.”

“How the hell are we supposed to fight it then?” Merle asks.

“I don’t know, throw some vines at it?” He shrugs. “Or whatever you do? I’ll stay within range so you can do your thing, but I’m not going down there.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Merle starts to argue, but Magnus storms up to the top of the stairs and grabs Taako before he realizes what’s happening, throwing him over his shoulder.

“Hey, what are you doing!?” he yells as Magnus starts walking back down the stairs. “No! Put me down! I said I’m staying out here!” He pounds his fists on Magnus’s back, but the man doesn’t even flinch.

“And then he picked me up like a sack of potatoes and just dragged me in there, even though I told him I wasn’t doing it.”

Lup laughs so hard she nearly snorts the soda she’s drinking out of her nose. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. “Oh, that’s great. I gotta meet this guy.”

Taako flicks a piece of potato across the table at her. “Whose side are you on?”

“He’s an action first kind of guy. I can appreciate that. So did you find the worm?”

“Yeah, we found the worm,” Taako exclaims. “And it tried to eat us! And we had to all run away because, surprise, it was much stronger and bigger than us!” His voice goes up a full octave as he talks, getting squeakier and threatening to crack. “And I nearly died because Magnus rushes in!”

first TAZ fic I’ve written, so I’m still getting used to everyone’s voices

so headcanons for this little au:

Taako is a shapeshifter and doesn’t have a hero name or secret identity. Magnus has super strength and goes by The Hammer. Merle controls plants and I’m not sure what his hero name is yet. They have red uniforms.

Other teams are the Reaper Squad who wear black uniforms. Lup can control fire/turn herself into fire and goes by Phoenix. I haven’t decided on Kravitz’s powers yet, but he goes by “Reaper”. And Barry can turn into a spectral spirit, and I haven’t figured out a name for him yet.

Team Sweet Flips wear blue uniforms. Killian can transform into essentially the Incredible Hulk, though it’s by choice; no clue what her name is. Carey can turn invisible and goes by “Rogue” because I couldn’t come up with better. And Noelle can control electronics (and her catchphrase is “hero time!”)