#okay the rest of this is coming tomorrow!! check back in like 20ish hours!!

[autisticlancemcclain]

Sleeping has never been easy for Lance. Even as a baby – Mamá had told him that it was a rare night that he slept more than three hours. That followed him all throughout childhood and teenhood, too. He has several specific memories of sneaking out in the dead of night to collect shells that were abundant after the tide pulled in during the early hours of the morning. It’s not that he never sleeps, or anything – usually he makes himself lie in bed for at least 8 hours, so he’s at least rested. 

But sometimes he’s just bored. And fucking around at night is fun! It’s so quiet and still, it makes everything feel like an adventure. 

Tonight, especially, there’s no chance of him staying in bed and doing nothing. There’s no chance of sleep, either – he’s too excited! In – he checks his watch – ten minutes, he turns eighteen. An adult! In the eyes of the law! Yeah, sure, he’s in actual space fighting a literal war, so it doesn’t matter at all, but still. He’s allowed to be excited. 

He taps his hands erratically, humming to himself, trying to pass the time. After what feels like ten minutes, or close to it, he checks his watch again, and – aw, man. It’s only been thirty-four seconds. 

He stands up, spinning around until he makes himself dizzy, collapsing in a pile of giggles on the floor. He lies flat on his back and waits until the room stops spinning, and then some. He checks his watch again. 

Nine more minutes until midnight. 

Seriously? he thinks, Is time passing extra slowly tonight, or something?

He stands back up, jumping and hopping around, trying to think of something fun (or at least minorly amusing) he can do for nine minutes. In the end he decides on just parkouring around the bridge, leaping over chairs and doing cool run-flips off the wall. At one point he tries to use the corner of the wall to vault up to the ceiling, even though he knows it’s futile. He does not reach the ceiling (as it is something like 100 feet up in the air), but he does manage to get high enough that it hurts a little when he falls down, which is dope. (The footprint he leaves about 20 feet up the wall is less dope, and he is going to safely blame it on Keith as soon as possible).

After what he feels is at least ten-ish minutes of dicking around, he checks his watch and is delighted to find that he’s correct – fifteen seconds to midnight! Fifteen seconds until he’s eighteen! He starts counting down aloud, in the quietest whisper he can currently manage at this level of excited (which, honestly, is not that quiet, but if him jumping off the walls didn’t wake the team up then he’s probably fine).

“...Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! ONE!” 

As soon as the last count is out of his mouth, before he even has the breath to cheer, a video pops up in front of him. 

Lance blinks. “Huh?”

The video is staticky for a second, millions of black and white dots covering the hologram-screen thingy (Altean tech is wack, man). It goes on for a few more seconds, enough that Lance can feel some pressure building behind his eyes, but luckily the static blips away just before a headache starts to form. In place of the static, there’s a man. Lance squints. 

Wait.

“Luis?”

The man in the video chuckles, and Lance startles, just now realising that it is a video call.

“I’m not Luis,” says the man, and Lance’s jaw drops, because he knows that voice, even if it’s a little deeper than he’s used to.

“Me?!”

The man – Lance! Older Lance! – laughs again, smiling brightly, and that’s himself, alright. Lance knows what his own damn smile looks like. 

“Yep. I’m future you.” Future Him winks. “Pretty hot, huh?”

Lance tilts his head, considering. Future Him smirks and allows it. 

Honestly...yeah. He kind of kills it. His face is still pretty and angular, his eyes as brown as ever, and his smile looks the same – but there are definitely some changes. Apparently he goes for a sort-of undercut, in the future, and he has a wicked scar across his left eye. He really does look like his brother, too, only way prettier (sorry, Luis).

“Yeah,” Lance agrees after a few seconds of inspection, “we’re still hot.”

Future Him winks one more time, before his expression drops into something much more serious. 

“I didn’t actually call you just to give you a peek of your future serve –”

“Yeah, no shit.”

Future Him ignores that particular comment, although Lance is satisfied to see the corner of his mouth twitch in the way Lance knows damn well means he’s trying not to laugh. 

“– I came here to warn you.”

Lance panics immediately, dashing to his chair in the bridge, preparing to pull the alarm and wake the rest of the team. “Why wouldn’t you fucking lead with that, if Zarkon is going to attack we’re gonna need way more time to prepare –”

“It’s not an attack!” Future Him rushes to assure. “Sorry, my bad. I shouldn’t’ve worded it that way. I’m here to warn you, but you’re in no immediate danger.”

Lance glares at him. “Did the future make us dumb?”

Future Him chuckles again, nervously this time, scratching the back of his neck. “I really am sorry. I’m not supposed to say much, but ‘warning’ doesn’t mean ‘Zarkon’ for us anymore. I didn’t think about how that would affect you, dude. My bad.” Future Him says the last part with an embarrassed shrug, but all Lance feels is his whole body light up with a fiery hope.

Zarkon is no longer a concern for us, in the future?

“Really?” he asks weakly. “We end up fixing this shit, eventually?” 

“And we get to see Mamá and everyone again,” Future Him adds softly. 

Lance sits with that information for a few minutes, feeling something heavy and painful, a weight he didn’t fully realise he was carrying, dissolve in his chest. 

He’s gonna see his family again!

After giving him a few minutes to process, Future Him’s face turns serious again. “I do still have a warning for you, though, and it’s kind of time-sensitive.”

“Go for it,” Lance says, mission mode activated. (Despite what the team may tease, they all know Lance can be serious).

“Okay!” Future Him leans out of frame a little, and the sound of rapid typing is faintly audible. “I just sent you a file. Check your station.” 

Lance does, on it finding a document with nothing but a list of several coordinates, only a few that he recognises. 

“...Coordinates? What for?”

Future Him’s face turns hard, but there’s something… off, about it. Lance can’t quite pin it down. 

“This is a list of places you must, never, ever visit,” Future Him responds gravely. “Ever. Just completely off-limits. You’ll thank me, promise.”

Never… ever?

“...Right,” Lance says slowly. He crosses his fingers behind his back. “Of course. I’ll make sure I avoid these places. Got it.”

Future Him brightens, clapping his hands excitedly. “Wonderful!” he chirps. “Anyways, sorry I can’t stay for longer, but I have some stuff to do. Pidge said I couldn’t tell you much, anyhow, something about the space-time continuum. See ya!” 

He waves, and Lance waves back, and then the hologram disappears. Lance waits a few minutes, looking around, just in case Future Him decides to pop back up. 

When no future video pops up, Lance grins, uncrossing his fingers and sending the coordinates list to his holopad. He scrambles up from his chair, rushing out of the room and straight to Blue’s hangar. 

He really must have gotten dumber in the future, because Future Him is a moron if he thinks Lance is not going to hit each one of these locations immediately. 

In order, too.

[black-streak]

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

 Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

 Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

 It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

   'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

  Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

   Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

  That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

  Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

  Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

  It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest. 

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

  Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look. 

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me." 

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

  Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks. 

"Is.. Is this okay?"

  Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?)  Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."