#why is everyone down bad for a hunk of metal

[smolmilkyways]

space cowboy! 🤠

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 2.1k w.count- boothill needs a lil tune up [...y'all should've seen this one comin' honestly]

you're not sure why you bother setting an alarm every time you go to sleep. you don't even know when you'll be sleeping for one; it could be in the afternoon, it could be in the morning, it could be for ten minutes at your workbench, and on the rare occasion, you can even go to bed at night like everyone else. although, that last option when blessed upon you, never lasted the whole night.

as for the original dilemma of alarm clocks? who needs 'em! the critters getting into your shop and wrecking your tools around were a surefire way to get your blood pumping with a wild chase around the shop with a hefty, swinging wrench. kids stopping by to see the newest hunk-of-junk thing you've been tinkering with or maybe even bringing you some toy to fix with whimpering chins are always sure to keep you awake- you couldn't send them away with smashed hopes. perhaps it was a good natured older lady or gentlemen just stretching their legs one fine morning after you had pulled an all nighter, but now you have to entertain their gossip well into the morning past the ass-crack of dawn because you can't be a bad host!

this instance, however, just so happens to be the familiar sound of heavy, metal boots clanking their way through the shop's public entrance. the sound of the stomping reverberates around your small little rest room at the back of your shop through the camera feed you keep running at all hours (mostly for those critters previously mentioned). having just fallen asleep on top of being hyperaware of sounds from the feed, your eyes fly open. with a well-overdramatic, one-person show worthy groan evolved to frustrated yell, you were throwing your shabby blanket off your legs.

"wakey, wakey!" the synthetic voice of an overly familiar man projects into your room.

you stomp across the room in two short strides. slamming your palm down on a button attached to a small table with all sorts of other switches and knobs, the small indicator that audio is feeding from your microphone kicks on as red as your temper.

"the hell do you want?" you growl, voice muffled at the end of your exhausted question by your free hand running down your face. you hear his voice chuckle on the other end. peering through your fingers into the video screen, he had moved to stand away from your shop door. his arms are crossed across his metallic chest, chin tilted up so his one eye can gaze into the camera that follows his movements.

"now, now, sugar," he chuckles, "just open the door, would ya'? i could use some fixin' up." as if trying to coax you into letting him in, he waves one of his arms around by the elbow.

you're not sure if he heard you click your tongue before you lifted your hand off the audio feed button, but he chuckles nonetheless as the soft click of disconnection echoes on his end. he knew you'd come racing to the door... well, at the very least you wouldn't leave him out to dry.

the cowboy dips his chin and chuckles under his breath as the brim of his hat shadows his face. he could hear you stomping your way towards him and just imagining your irritated face with a possibly twitching brow was highly amusing to him.

the door in front of his toes swings open inwards and the rush of air as it did so flutters his long bangs that always covered the right side of his face. his chin rises a fraction, and he was right. your face was assuming.

standing in a wrinkled shirt that you no doubt had been trying to sleep in, arms crossed and a crease so deep in your brows he was tempted to push his thumb between them.

"well," he starts, swaying his hunk of metal bodyweight to one of his equally metal legs, "ain't you a sight for sore eyes."

"what. do you want." you hiss. before he gives you a verbal answer, his arm swings down and swipes something from his pocket before presenting it in front of your face. your eyes nearly go crossed to examine it. then you're looking back up at him, not any more amused than before. "is this supposed to be a bribe?"

the cowboy shrugs playfully, twisting the covered candied sucker between his fingers.

"do ya' want it to be?"

you roll your eyes, bringing your arm up to snatch the small boost of sugar from him. "just get in here, boothill." you sigh, free hand coming to rub your forehead. turning your body to retreat back into your home, the clanking of him following behind echoes at your back.

boothill whistles at the state of the familiar shop he'll find himself in from time to time for quick fix-ups. a workbench loaded with heaps of scrap metal, tools, random bobbles, and screws all littered on top of pages and printed blueprints of projects or repairs. it's even more of a chaotic mess than last time. he sits on the stool he normally snags as his when he's here and, without speaking, you're hooking up a small machine attached to the wall next to the bench and offering him the end of a circular cord.

"need a charge?" you ask with a small lisp from the candy you had already unwrapped and placed in your mouth against your cheek.

"well, why not," he entertains. taking the thick, extendable cord from your hand and plugging it into the port on his lower back.

you flit around a few other places before your snagging a stoll for yourself and placing it in front of his knees. you push some estranged tools around with your forearm and, while moving your sucker from one cheek to the other, you begin to maneuver your hair out of your face.

boothill enjoys watching you in this way. it felt familiar- just seeing someone move around in rather mundane ways. this small sense of domesticity was familiar and comfortable. it calmed him; reminding him of home.

"what's the problem?" you finally ask, looking a tad bit more awake and more or less ready to work on whatever issue he had to present.

his right arm moves to cross his lap and his palm bangs twice on his opposing forearm where his internal revolver barrel is.

"i got myself in quite a fuss with this dang thing. forkin' bullet got jammed in the goose-dud thing and i can't even pop the barrel open to reload it."

you stare at him like he just said the dumbest thing you've ever heard. "you came all the way here. because your arm got jammed by a bullet." the way you spoke sounded exactly how you looked at him.

"this ain't no one-handed fix, sugar." you stay quiet, not willing to admit he had a point. using both hands to not only try and pop open the jam, but also tinker around with what was essentially his whole arm's motion control- that did require a bit more finesse than just slamming his arm on a wall until it gave way... which is precisely what you could imagine him doing.

"fine," you yield. "take off that sorry excuse of a 'jacket' unless you want that sleeve covered in oil."

you twist away from him, half-standing at a strange angle to reach across your workbench for something as the satisfying sound of the bottom of his small zipper unlatches. shrugging it off, he tosses it onto your bench, covering a few loose tools and scribblings of paper.

you fully get out of your stool and trot over to the other side of the shop to roll over a smaller table with a metal tub. you wheel it to his left and, without instruction, boothill lays his arm over it.

as you begin to tinker around with his arm, picks, pliers, oil and all working on trying to dislodge the stray bullet that had caused such an issue, boothill has taken to lounging comfortably as he watches.

his right arm, free of any issues or problem fixing, was propped up on the corner of your workbench at his side with his forearm resting along the edge. his metal fingers had snagged a stray nail from the workspace and had been twirling it absent-mindedly between his knuckles like a bullet.

the only words spoken between you both as you worked was the occasional quick apology if something you did prods against a wire that sent a shock up his arm or made his fingers twitch.

"easy. last thing we need ya' doin' is settin' my gun off, sugar," he had told you. just because his arm machinery wasn't properly loaded- ain't nothing was stopping you from accidentally relodging the bullet and sending it through your wall. the sudden discharge coupled with his exposed wires could easily kick his arm back with enough recoil to knock you clean out with how close you were leaning in to see what you were doing.

"okay..!" you whisper to yourself before the sound of something sliding down in his arm is followed by a sensation; one he was almost familiar with. "give me a wrench. heavy," you instruct. on hand was spread across his forearm just at the start of the revolver barrel, the other outstretched towards your bench. grabbing the nearest one, he slaps it into your palm.

with a two, heavy whacks using your newly acquired wrench, you slam the barrel shut and boothill lets out a small breath.

"now, that feels a heck of a lot better," he chuckles. you reach around his forearm, release the tension latch and the barrel swings out successfully. with your pliers, you easily remove one problematic, greasy bullet. "knew i could count on you to get the job done."

"and thanks to you, my hands are gross," you chide. fingers greased in oil. boothill grabs a rag from your workbench drawer and tosses it over your sullied hands. you start working the cloth between your fingers the moment it hits your skin. "i recommend you stick around and charge up before heading out on whatever you got lined up next."

"shucks, you mean it?" you can't tell if he's genuinely thankful you'd allow him to stay or if he was just being facetious. once your hands were at least dry, you start using it to wipe down his arm next.

"course i do. i'll have to give you a quick check again before you go. i'll mess around and try and make it so it doesn't jam like that again. whatever tech-doc you worked with before really needed to focus on the finer details." boothill wondered if you knew that you had lifted his newly repaired limb and started rotating and twisting it like you were admiring your work. like you were admiring him.

"they don't matter no more," he tells you. "i got ya' now, don't i? who needs some random rear shirt-bag, when i got the best in the forkin' business right here?"

"careful now. flattery will get your everywhere."

"no shirt?"

"watch your mouth," you tease before you stand. "i mean it though. stay put and charge."

"i ain't no stupid electronic," he clicks. his body moves and twists so both of his arms are now leaning on the workbench behind him. both elbows supporting him as his arms dangle off the ledge. "but I hear ya'." his eye shuts under the shadow of his hat.

his eye reopened no sooner than it shut when the shadow caused by the brim of his cowboy hat disappeared and the light of your shop flitered through his eyelids. with a clear, open eye, he lifts his chin to see you standing in front of him.

you had pinched the brim of his hat between your fingers, snatching it off his head and revealing the fullness of his long, dual-colored hair and cross-hair-infused eye. you take his hat and nonchalantly toss it behind his right shoulder to avoid getting any residual oil from his left arm on it.

"take your damn hat off inside my shop will you? you don't need it." you turn away from him as he continues to stare at your back, slack jawed. you mutter something about washing your hands and arms before you disappear behind a doorway and around the corner of the wall. he'd been in the entirety of your shop before, so he knows where you went but all he could think about was you flicking his hat off him.

the cowboy let his head fall backward, the hair on the backside of his skull tangling with screws and pencils as his right hand comes to rest over his face. he can hear the water running in the other room.

"ah, son of a nice lady...!"

boothill has really got to tell you not to mess with his hat.

a/n: one day i'll write a flirty hat rule fic. *sigh* one day.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Unfinished

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: none - this is fluff

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Today was anything but easy. Everything, absolutely everything, had gone from bad to worse. Arriving back at camp was the only reprieve you had gotten all day. You walked straight through camp, on a mission into the woods. Astarion watched you, everyone could feel the waves of frustration sloughing off you and decided it was wise to leave you be. Everyone except Astarion. 

He followed you deep into the night. He found you panting and sweating as you hacked your sword about wildly, slashing and chopping every tree you possibly could. You threw your sword down and launched your helmet at a tree before sinking down to your knees. You slowly took your armor off, Astarion watched you from the shadows of the tree line. You look utterly exhausted. Your skin was dull, the bags under your eyes were heavy and dark, you looked frail despite your strong abilities as a paladin. 

You sighed, setting down the last hunk of metal. You rubbed your aching muscles, desperate for relief. Sighing, you watched the stars as they glittered and danced about in the sky. Oh to be a star, beautiful and without limitations. You laid on your side, not wanting to even hold yourself up anymore. You breathed in the dirt and moss beneath you, letting your body go completely limp. You faded quickly, sleep finally conquering your overworked form. 

---------------------------

Your body shivered with the cool night breeze. Astarion draped a blanket over you, sitting next to you with a book and a knife. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he didn’t want to wake you either. He saw you struggle lately and today seemed to be the worst of it. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, he thought. You were a good leader for the little band of misfits but even leaders need reprieve. He watched you sleep for a bit. He had never seen someone so peaceful, completely vulnerable to the world. He memorized the soft curves of your face, he longed to touch them. Just a touch wouldn’t hurt. He brushed a bit of hair away from your eyes. Wrong move. Your eyes remained closed as you clamped your hand around his wrist while your free hand pointed his own dagger at his throat. Only then did your eyes wearily open. 

“Astarion?” you questioned, loosening your grip and pulling the blade back before setting it down. 

“Do you make a habit out of almost killing your companions? Or is that just reserved for me?” he said, his usual smirk and sultry tone ever present. 

You noticed the blanket over you, “Thank you…” you said and you snuggled in deeper. 

He nodded, you watched each other in comfortable silence for a few moments. 

“How is it that you have followed me for 200 years and yet your heart still speeds up when I am near?” he whispered, thinking you were asleep. 

You sat up immediately, eyes flicking to him. He looked surprised for a moment, neither of you sure who should talk first.

“You’ve known this whole time?” you asked.

He nodded, “I just haven’t figured out why or what you are.”

“I’ll tell you.” you sighed, scooting over to him. “I am… death.”

His eyes widened, “Beg your pardon?” 

“Well - kinda… I was death's apprentice… I got fired…” you chuckled at the end, trying to hide your reddening face.

“How do you get fired from being death?” he asked with shock in his voice.

“I refused to kill someone who’s time was up.” you shrugged, shying away from specifics.

“So why follow me for 200 years? I thought you were a ghost… a figment of my imagination. You never looked completely real…” he whispered the last bit.

“I retained my powers as a servant of death. Whenever you saw me, you saw my obscure form. I was basically a shadow.” you explained.

“Why didn’t you help me?!” he shouted, making you jolt.

“I wanted to… believe me, I did.” you whispered.

“Then why didn’t you?! You had every opportunity, all the power in the world - and yet you let me suffer! Why!” he was yelling now, pacing in front of you.

“Because I had no choice!” you shouted, making Astarion stop and look at you.

“When the Gur attacked you… It… it was you I refused to kill. Death may have relinquished me from my apprenticeship but death is a fickle mistress. She kept me from you, I couldn’t get near you unless I was a shadow.” you spoke as calmly as you could but your voice wavered as tears began to fill your waterline.

“How are you here now then?” he glared at you.

You forced your tadpole to connect with Astarion’s, making it wriggle uncomfortably in his skull. “The same reason you can walk in the sun.” you tapped your head a few times.

He sighed, settling down next to you again. 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry… truly.” you mumbled, quickly wiping your tears away. 

“Why did you refuse to kill me?” he asked. 

“I… I just couldn’t. Something about your soul felt… unfinished. You did technically die, but not in the way death wanted. Dying is only valuable if a soul is gained, you kept your soul.” 

“And you paid the price for it… were you forced to watch me?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No, I stayed because… I wanted to make sure death didn’t come for you. I wanted to keep you safe. I did a rotten job.” 

“Two unlucky peas in a pod. In another life, we could have been friends.” he said, bumping his shoulder into yours, giving you a soft smile.

“And in this life?” you asked quietly, afraid of his answer.

“Truth be told - I always found comfort in your shadow. The ghostly figure who sang to me, prayed over me, whispered to me. Perhaps our luck is looking up now. Perhaps we could be something… more?” he finally turned his head to meet your eyes. 

You scanned his face, not sure what you were looking for. You acted on impulse, rushing your lips to his. He pulled you in by your waist, kissing you back. 

“The vampire spawn and the apprentice of death - quite the combination, little love.” he spoke as he kissed your neck a few times.

“We both have masters to kill, maybe we are fated to love after all.” you joked.

“200 years together and now you think were fated?” He laughed a bit. He had always been amazed by you, this strange enigma. His small bit of solace in horrendous times. And here he finds you, real, touchable, and best of all - you love him back.

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope this is to everyones liking, life is just really stressful (tis the season) so ideas are lacking but I will try to be consistent and at least post one new fic per week. Love all the support and appreciate every bit of it <3 Thank you all for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. XOXOXOXOXO!!!

[alaetoiles]

modern!poets + driving

i cant stop thinking abt these ���😭 HELP

ugh u definitely know neil is never ever going to drive anywhere ever. got his license first out of all the poets, but absolutely refuses to drive places. would rather walk 45 min in the sweltering hot sun to get to the park than drive 10 min. he's trying to prove something but no one rlly knows what LMFAO

+ asks everyone for rides during the peak of summer cause he nearly passed out from a heat stroke while walking once

todd vs driving his mom's old minivan. that hunk of metal is busted beyond normal wear and tear but todd is forever convinced that his car is near mint condition. always takes 10 extra minutes to park bc his car is so fucking big 😭😭 designated driver for group trips bc his car is the only one that can fit everyone

+ he always says "i told u so" when his car is actually useful

ever seen one of those cars whipping it through a parking lot narrowly missing several small children? yeah that's definitely charlie. only knows where the gas pedal is, absolutely no breaking or slowing down. "bad drivers never miss their turn" is what charlie embodies. at least his car is always nice and cold though to distract you from your impending death via his driving

+ silly drink guy, always has a silly drink in his cup holder (sometimes it's a week old, nearly moldy starbucks matcha drink)

pitts is the most careful driver of the year, always at speed limit, follows code of conduct to a tee despite everyone in the car hating him for it. cares wayyy too much abt the opinion of whoever is in the passenger seat; will let the passengers dictate the ac settings, aux cord, windows up/down is all up to the passengers, he is just driver.

+ HIS SEAT SETTINGS ARE SO WILD. he's siting with his spine perfectly straight, head hunched slightly over the wheel to ""see the entire road""

knox took his test seven times. Seven. passing is passing though. even though charlie is an objectively bad driver, knox is somehow always worse. first one to get into a crash & first one to total his car. no one rlly knows how or why he is so bad at driving...who gave him a mfing car PLS

+ has a "hype" playlist for driving, except he's banned from playing it while driving bc during both accidents he's been in, the playlist was at the crime scene.

world's biggest mystery is cameron's car bc how can someone be so outwardly neat and organized by drive in such a chaos fire of garbage??? car floor has not been seen in years, actively pushing trash and wrappers off the seat to be able to sit in cameron's car. dont even mention the crunching noises that happen whenever u try to get in/out of the car bc of the shear amt of trash in that man's car. funnily enough, only the driver's side is ever perfectly clean,,, u think he does it to spite the poets? LMAO

meeks is the perfect carpool buddy: an absolute delight to be in his car. equipped w everything u could possibly need in his little hybrid prius. only good vibes and fun times in his car. also meeks loves driving!! will take u anywhere u want/need to go; willing to drive far to do things + loves to go on late night drives with the windows down and music blasting

[yacinthemorning]

Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 5

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Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hybrid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, awkward flirting

Typically, Jimmy had learned over the past years, carrots could be harvested a few weeks before the sweet potatoes. This year, however, would not give him a break. Late planting, no sun, and then too much sun, gophers, and finally just plain bad luck with growth. He glared down at the pathetic yellow vegetable, hardly two inches in length compared to its towering leaves.

It would be his luck, after he’d bragged about his carrot cake to his house guest, for this to happen. Of course, he could always buy carrots from Martyn, but that wasn’t the point. Jimmy sighed, rolling back onto his behind to stare up at the sky. Did he leave them be and hope they grew a bit more into a usable size? Harvest them anyways? They couldn’t all be so small. There was no harm in leaving roots in the ground, though, if not for the gophers.

The back door swung open, letting out a puff of smoke. Said puff of smoke coughed and shook, until a face blinked out at Jimmy. “Oh, there you are!” Tango chirped.

“What did you do? I hope you didn’t get any of that in my workshop.” Jimmy clambered back up onto his feet, picking up the watering can on his way. Tango shook most of his soot off like a dog before Jimmy was able to slap the dipped kerchief onto his cheek. The blazeborn yelped, hair flickering from the shock and turning the liquid into steam. Jimmy didn’t stop until at least his face was cleared. “Look at you, it’s like you never left the mines.” He huffed.

“A minor incident may have occurred while doing some repairs.” His muffled voice explained while he tried to bat Jimmy away. “But it’s fine, I swear!” He managed to wrestle the cloth away to finish his own cleaning.

Jimmy laughed, “If you plan on working with heavy machinery you should go to a forge.”

“I wasn’t! I was just trying to reshape a part in something hot. See, Scott at the parlour gave me this ice-cream maker that wouldn’t crank, and while I was repairing it I noticed this one piece-”

“Where on earth- Tango did you use my stove for your metal work?”

Tango hunched over with a guilty grin. Jimmy groaned, rushing inside to make sure there was no major damage. His stove was open, a pair of iron tongs left half inside, with a rapidly cooling hunk of metal sitting on a brick on his stovetop. Most of the soot seemed to have wound up on Tango, both to Jimmy’s relief and annoyance. He spun around, hands on hips, and glared. “Are you daft?”

“Look, see, it’s not that bad-”

“You could have burnt the house down!”

“I took the necessary precautions! I just needed to reshape a small piece.”

“Then why didn’t you simply- you know?” He flicked his wrist and Tango’s sparking hair.

Tango’s face twisted, grabbing the hem of his shirt and fanning it. “Because the whole- you know?”

It was certainly rude, but Jimmy supposed the man knew more about his own flames than an avian. With a conceding wave, Jimmy groaned and began walking towards the cleaning closet. “See here, just…” He grumbled to himself as he tried to pull the mop out, only to find it caught on something out of sight. Just his luck. “If you’re going to be doing metalwork and the like then at least build a shed or something for it in the yard.” What all did such a task need? He didn’t know and he didn’t especially care at the moment. Maybe when he calmed down he’d happily listen to an explanation, but right now he was trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest.

So busy attempting to untangle the mop, Jimmy failed to notice the silence behind him. Not until he’d turned to his companion in search of absent assistance and was instead met with wide, red eyes. Something like wonder swam in them, along with far too many other emotions that made Jimmy tense up in his confusion. “You would let me build that?”

An ‘ of course? ’ nearly fell from his lips without thought, before he absorbed Tango’s words. Before it occurred to him the implications of his own. 

Many things in Jimmy’s home had changed in the past two months. A sewing machine and new lights were gifts. Redstone tools and work boots filled spaces that had been empty before and could be emptied at any point. The extra seating in his shop and the new bed in a guest room which was formerly storage were accommodations for a second presence, but they were without character.

But a work shed…

Feathers raised on end. He turned away, focusing back on the mop, though he suddenly felt the energy to clean abandon him. “Or at least go to Impulse’s if you intend to blow up an oven.” He said instead of any of the thoughts darting around his mind. He was not his brother, he was most certainly not his brother. “I’d rather keep my house.”

Tango gaped like a fish, ready to say something, but ultimately snapped shut. He walked up, giving a small nod for Jimmy to step out of the way, and bent down into the closet. Within a few seconds the mop was in his hands and the door was closed. “I’ll clean up.”

Jimmy took a deep breath. “Okay.” A tightness encased his chest. There wasn’t time to think about it. He needed to finish gardening, then he needed to put the last touches on Lizzie’s dress before she picked it up tomorrow. Then-

“Hey, Jim?” Tango called just as the avian reached the back door. “I need to go pick some redstone up from Joe for a job.” His tail twitched, “Do you need anything?”

“Just… Pick up my order from him. And ask him when the next train shipment will be in.” Jimmy said, nearly too quiet, pulling his wings in close to his back. “It should have your nether fabrics.”

-

Woven straw thudded hard against the wood bar counter from the weight of the raw redstone and metal plates within. Tango’s forehead followed, groan escaping as he wrapped his arm around his face. Cold seeped into his skin from the wood for a brief moment before his own high body temperature heated it faster than it could cool him.

Heavy steps approached, and a glass was placed down next to his elbow. “Rough day already? It’s only noon.”

Tango lifted his head just enough to pout at Impulse, who smiled back. He grabbed the glass given, to discover it was only seltzer. Of course his friend would be responsible when he least wanted it. His face twisted. “I think I upset Jimmy.”

“Oh no, what did you do to the poor fellow this time?” There was more amusement than anything in his voice.

“I might have used his oven as an impromptu forge.”

“Tango!”

“It wasn’t that bad!” He knew he couldn’t defend his poor choices. “I just wanted to get the job done as quickly as possible.”

Impulse’s expression softened before he turned back to cleaning a plate, tail sweeping up in sympathy. The saloon was practically empty at this hour, all the miners back to work and most everyone else busy for another few hours. Skizz was off collecting from the brewery and Zed had run off after some bird he’d seen, leaving the two men alone. Thank the heavens, because Tango wasn’t sure he could deal with their energy at the moment. Once Impulse set the plate aside, he asked, “How much do you have saved up now?”

“Not enough.” Was the only real answer. “Less than I made at the mine in a month, and it’s not exactly reliable. I need to find a real job.”

Impulse hummed, glancing down at his bar. “You know if I could only afford it, I’d hire you.”

“I know you would, buddy.” He sighed, leaning back. “And no one wants another redstoner with Mumbo in town, not when they barely need one. The options out here are somehow both limitless and incredibly limited.”

“You could become a rancher.”

“And compete with Beef?” Tango threw his hand in the air, raised his eyebrow. “The man feeds this and every town within several days travel twice over. Best I could do is beg him to be one of his cowboys, and that ain’t exactly better than the mines pay-wise.”

“Then what about a bandit?” Impulse joked.

“Right, yeah. Because I’d be great with a gun, and I don’t personally know bounty hunters who could hog tie me before I ever sniffed a single copper.”

The two men had a good chuckle simply imagining it before the bar fell silent again. Tango fiddled with the seltzer, taking a small sip now again, mulling over his situation in his head over and over. “Maybe I should just go and beg Fwhip for my job back.”

The last clean plate was placed away, and Impulse turned his full attention onto his friend. “Even if he agreed, then you’d just be back in their barracks, wouldn’t you?” He tilted his head with a knowing smile. “You might as well move back east and get yourself an engineering job at a factory.”

Tango turned away, hiding his warming face behind his palm. “Shut it. It’s not like I can live with Jimmy forever, anyways.”

“You might, if you stopped fooling around and properly courted the fellow.”

“But that’s part of the problem!” He hissed, pushing out of the chair to throw his hands out further. “I can’t just court someone I’m leeching from. Jimmy’s real kind, but he ain’t stupid enough to accept a beggar relying on his money and home, who almost blew up his kitchen. Even a blind man can see how bad that looks.”

Impulse shook his head and dipped into a cupboard. “Well, it’s better than being a gambler or an alcoholic.”

“Setting the bar real high for me, there.” Tango slumped against the bar, glaring at his friend’s back. “One step above rock bottom. Real catch I am.”

“Downright irresistible.” A small bag was placed on the counter in front of the blazeborn. Though full, it gave way easily, and Tango suspected he knew its contents before Impulse explained. “Before you go, would you mind asking Jimmy to alter these before the dinner party? Skizz and I ordered them by catalogue but there wasn’t an option for tail or wing accommodations.”

A common story, Tango had come to learn. Catalogues often had several options for measurements and colours, but couldn’t be bothered to offer even the slightest alterations to the actual patterns. Not when they were paying some poor homebody copper on the diamond to make several a day. Normally most folks would do such small alterations themselves on work clothes. Impulse was never one too good with a needle and thread, however, and for such nice clothing it was best to leave it to Jimmy. Tango collected both the bag and grocery basket, downed the last of his seltzer, and dropped a copper before heading out. “I’ll see what he can do.”

“Don’t worry so much about Jimmy.” Said Impulse as he left. “You know he doesn’t see it that way. Take his advice and focus on getting things together. I’m sure there’s a place for you in town, whatever you want to do.”

If only life were that kind.

-

Jimmy had made an irreparable mess of everything.

That was the conclusion he’d come to after all these hours alone. He’d made a fool of himself making a fool of Tango and chased him off for good. Shown his true colours. Chosen his house over his housemate. All but told him to pack his bags and get out over nothing, he’d be surprised if he bothered to return. Which, in all fairness, it seemed he wouldn’t be, given how long it’d been since he left. It didn’t take three hours to shop, did it? 

Well, perhaps on occasion it did, but it wasn’t as though Tango had a long list when he left. A list that, at Jimmy’s request, included the task of checking to see how much longer Tango would be in his hair. No, he had certainly made an utter mess of it all.

It was evening when Tango returned, around when Jimmy was thinking of closing up and returning to his living room to wallow in his idiocy. “I’m back.” Tango declared, distracted with balancing his acquisitions. Jimmy placed down the pattern he was cutting to rush over and help just in time before a case perched precariously fell to its doom. A true heroic moment, given the amazingly tiny gears it was filled with, spotted when they had everything placed down on the table and Tango checked it hadn’t broken open. 

Jimmy didn’t bother peeking at the rest, collecting the few vegetables bought and bringing them to his cleaned kitchen. By the time he returned Tango was already sorting his redstone into the small workspace Jimmy had afforded him. His face had screwed up in concentration. A tension hung in the air for too long, Jimmy’s feathers raised on end as he waited for Tango’s usual chatter. It didn’t appear it would come. “You’re a bit later than I expected, honestly.” Stuttered Jimmy.

Tango wiped his redstone-stained hands on his pants. “I ran into Cleo on my way home. There was something jammed in her printing press. Turned out to be a frog she accidentally gazed at.” There was no need for proof, but Tango produced the small stone frog with a grin. It was, admittedly, very cute. Jimmy let his shoulders ease some, which Tango took unfortunate notice of. “What? Did… Did I miss supper?” 

“No! No, I haven’t even started yet, honestly.” Jimmy assured, reminded once again of his carrot-predicament. “It, um, we’ll actually not be having cake today either. An issue came up with… ingredients.”

He got an odd look, but eventually Tango shrugged it off. “So, what’s wrong, then?” Tension now built in the blazeborn as well, his tail jerking in agitation.

Well, there was nothing else he could do now. Jimmy had been building up the nerves ever since he checked the kitchen and found it spotless. More honestly, it had been mulling in the back of his mind since he last saw Tango. Thoughts that had distracted him while doing careful work and forced him on his feet to pace out the stress. Grian always said he had a habit of shoving his foot in his mouth, but Jimmy never felt so painfully aware of it until now.

“Jimmy?”

He took a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for shouting at you this morning. I was just… No, I shouldn’t have. There’s no excuse for you to be treated that way.”

Tango’s eyes widened in shock. “Wh- No! What are you talking about, I completely deserved it?”

But Jimmy shook his head, wringing his hands nervously. Oh, he couldn’t keep still. “You absolutely did not. I panicked and didn’t listen to you. I…” He swallowed. I don’t want you to leave. How could he say that? Or any of the other thoughts that had built themselves into mountains in his mind through the day, only to crumble into nonsense now that Tango was here in front of him again? He closed his mouth before he could humiliate himself.

“I’m the one who should apologize.” Tango said weakly. He put down the frog and approached. “You’ve done so much for me, and all I’ve done is dick around, distract you, and make a mess of your house.”

“I like your mess.” The words tumbled out of Jimmy’s mouth before he could stop them. Every pin feather on his head raised, the skin under turning bright red. The universe truly despised him today.

Tango seemed unsure how to react, a nervous laugh replacing whatever he intended to say. He took his time pulling himself back together, a period in which Jimmy only marginally managed to recover himself, and walked back to the table. “I, um, got your order. And Impulse asked me to bring these suits for you to modify before the party.” He rambled, messing with the edge of the cloth.

Jimmy could work with that. He took a deep breath and let his mind shift back into work mode. “Let me see.” The clothes were laid out, both looking over what needed to be done. “Well, alterations for tails is the most common I’ve had to do, after wings.” He mused aloud, tugging at the fabric. “But if it’s for formal-wear we should make it as presentable as possible.”

Tango’s tail curled around himself, bending awkwardly to try looking at his own work pants. “You just leave a gap in the top of the seam, don’t you?”

“For your tail, perhaps.” Jimmy reached out and tugged between two fingers at the tufted end when it waved past. An affronted squeak escaped the blazeborn, his tail yanking itself away from the light grip. “It’s so thin, you don’t have to worry about your undergarments sticking out, or an embarrassment while removing them. You could have a tail sleeve if you wanted to be especially unfashionable.” He chuckled at the mental image. “Impulse’s tail is considerably thicker and less flexible, however. And those scales of his love to catch on delicate fabrics like this. It’d be best to give him a button clasp.”

“Having to make such completely different adjustments even for the exact same limb…” Tango groaned. “You’re a saint.”

“It seems like much more work when you’re unfamiliar with it.” He waved him off, reaching for the needle he’d had Mumbo modify for undoing stitches. It was so far and above using a random needle or razor. Invaluable in this day and age of mail order and mass production, but Mumbo had insisted it was a silly little gift and turned his attention to his more ridiculous inventions, in Jimmy’s humble opinion. Perhaps some other folks could stand to be a bit more reverent about Jimmy’s work like Tango, actually, or at least offer some respect. “Much of tailoring is the same task in different shapes and combinations.”

Impulse had always had similar issues with clothing as Tango- that is, the acidity in the oils from his scales loved to eat through most fibres, so his selection was limited. Wool was the best common option, of which the jacket was at least made of. Better than attempting to find Void-sourced leathers. Trousers, and the base of the tail especially, were vulnerable to deterioration and staining due to direct contact without the protection of undergarments. Jimmy contemplated if he should line it, or if it would ruin the quality. He was no high-end suit maker who confidently placed his stitching on display to the world, and he likely lacked matching material. At least he was not tasked with making hats for the drake.

He moved on to Skizz’s suit. It would be much easier despite requiring entirely new openings. Though he was not an avian, his flightless wings were feathered like theirs, only requiring minor adjustments to accommodate their motions. There was little he could do to get around the awkward way they would distort the outfit’s silhouette when in motion, the current popular fashions were not made with winged folk in mind.

“It seems crazy, with how many there are.” Tango mused, and only then did Jimmy realize he’d been narrating his thoughts while he worked. A habit he’d grown over the last several weeks.

“Yes, well, numbers aren’t especially meaningful when it comes to setting trends. It’s not the common man on the plates they display in advertisements and magazines. It’s required to look presentable, even if their form cannot fit.”

Tango’s tail twitched, his head tilting to the side. “You know, sometimes you talk like you aren’t much of a fan of your work.”

“I love my work.” Jimmy quickly defended, placing the suit back down. “It’s simply frustrating attempting to modify clothes like this to accommodate everyone it was not made for, rather than creating clothes made for them. Most people aren’t brave enough to wear something that might stand out, and I can’t blame them. You would think living all the way out here might help with that, but ‘polite society’ finds its way everywhere it seems.”

Truthfully, he had only occasionally had such thoughts until recently. Most often while working on preparing the patterns for when Tango’s fabrics got in, which had leaked into his time working on Lizzie’s gown, then retroactively in quiet moments when contemplating the work he’d done for Bigb and Ren. Tango had said so himself, Nether clothing had been draped. Why didn’t he make something similar?

Perhaps he’d taken it a bit to heart recently.

Which reminded him…

“You collected my order from Joe?” He asked. Tango perked up and ran over to the cabinet. He brought over a set of vibrant wool fabrics, placing them down spread out across the desk. Jimmy’s wings fluttered behind him.

A rich violet was lifted up by Tango. “I’m surprised you could afford these. I thought this type of thing was expensive?”

“Normally, yes.” Jimmy admitted, sorting through the shades. “These are new, though, made with a special dye. They call this one mauveine.”

Surprisingly, Tango’s eyes shone with recognition and excitement. “Oh, that was in the newspapers and magazines a few years ago. They created it accidentally from aniline. The first of its kind, they’ve started trying to make all sorts of dyes synthetically from aniline now.”

“Yes.” Jimmy replied, a bit dumbfounded. “Well, it’s becoming quite popular, and more than a few people in town are fond of these bright colours. I bought a few I could find to try.”

“They’re the way of the future.”

“That’s what Mumbo says.” He rubbed his thumb into the fabric, eyeing it with suspicion. “I’m not so sure, though. I’ve heard they fade quickly, and how safe could it be? One made recently left burns.”

The blazeborn only shrugged. “I mean, if they’re selling them even all the way out here, these ones have to be safe.”

“Or it’s the only place left where they can scam customers out of their money, like Scar.” Jimmy snorted. “You would be surprised at some of the ridiculous things I’ve seen people purchase simply because it had a lovely advert in the paper, or heard about from their second cousin in the city who insisted it was the big new thing.”

“What can I say, aren’t new inventions exciting? The mistakes are the fun part, anyways.” Came the response, followed by a cackle when Jimmy’s face twisted. “These seem to be fine, though. Your hands are as pretty as ever.”

“I change my mind. Why are you still in my house.”

Tango’s laughter only roared louder until Jimmy could no longer keep the smile off his lips and joined him. When the pair calmed down once more he pushed the mauve fabric to the side. “This isn’t quite the shade I want, though. I’ll save it for Lizzie.”

“This one’s nice.” Tango picked up another, redder shade. Next to him it certainly was, matching the fiery golds of his hair and red eyes. That was all Jimmy needed to make up his mind.

“It is.” He said, taking it from his companion. “I think I’ll use it.”

“For what?”

“Secret.”

Tango made a whine, but Jimmy held strong, only putting his finger to his lips before walking the fabrics back to the cabinet.

“How about we go make supper? Since my oven is now usable again.”

Hands flung into the air with a groan. “You mess up one time! I swear!”

“Yes, yes.” He cooed, shooing Tango off to the kitchen. “Let’s go, my little genius, you can use your blacksmithing skills on the potatoes.”

[digital-magus]

I wasn’t gonna go off on this but, no, I’ve got shit to say.

Let’s set aside the questions of gun control and the role they play in law enforcement. Regardless of how you feel about them, folks are walking around with them every day. Now, maybe it’s just the Old Texas in me, but that doesn’t bother me anywhere near as much as the attitude of the people carrying them. When you’re holding a gun, you’re not just holding a hunk of metal; in your hand you are holding the life of every damn person in your field of view, and a bunch more who aren’t. THAT IS THE VERY DEFINITION OF A “GRAVE RESPONSIBILITY”. If holding a gun makes you feel good, makes you feel powerful? Put that damn thing down, because you are NOT ready to handle a firearm.

A gun isn’t a toy, it isn’t a fashion accessory, it isn’t a fucking magic wand of “disappear bad guy”. It. Is. A. WEAPON. It is an explicitly dangerous piece of machinery, built and engineered with the express purpose of taking a life or causing severe bodily harm.

A gun is to be RESPECTED. A gun is to be treated with the care and safety deserved both by it AND by the people around you. To do anything less is to declare to your friends, your family, everyone near you “I don’t care if you live or die.” All these cops whipping them out at the slightest pretense are screaming “I care more about looking cool and feeling powerful than I do about the lives of the people I’m ostensibly here to protect and serve”.

THAT’S why I hate the sort of people you see screaming for open carry and “good guy with a gun”. If the public could be trusted with that policy, gun violence wouldn’t be the #1 cause of death for children in this country. You want to keep your guns? Prove you can be trusted with them! Not to treat you like a 5 year old, but if you weren’t acting like one I wouldn’t have to! Knock it off with your fucking John Wayne fantasies and Punisher cosplay, and start treating guns with the fear and respect they deserve!

[rhodywriter]

Not From Around Here

It had flown overhead some nights ago. Some of the village had claimed it was nothing more than a shooting star, a speck of the heavens returning to mortal lands. Others believed it was a bad omen of a fallen angel cast out by the Holy Lord. The one thing everyone could agree on was that it certainly was not anything good.

Ariana found the prospect of the unknown entity to be fascinating.

"If it really is a fallen angel, shouldn't we find it and learn the secrets of the heavens?" she asked excitedly at dinner one night.

"Blasphemy!" her father had rumbled, slamming a hand on the table. "Whatever it is, we shall not seek it out. The Holy Lord is not to be trifled with."

It had taken everything in Ariana not to roll her eyes. Father and the village were obsessed with the Holy Lord and the preacher who spoke His laws. Ariana never held any interest. She'd rather read of science and mathematics, of theories around evolution and what lay in the sky above. It was why the streaks in the sky fascinated her.

No one else in the village shared her thirst for knowledge. Always the outsider, the stranger.

More whispers echoed across the village square in the coming days. More bolts of light had been spotted streaking through the midnight.

"What could it mean?" they whispered, panicked. "Why is this happening?"

Ariana ignored them, returning her borrowed books to the book shop. The unwilling owner of the shop didn't even look at her as she sat her stack on the counter.

CRASH! A massive boom, like a million thunder crashes rumbling across the sky, shook the ground. Windows rattled, goods fell to the floor, screams of terror echoed outside.

Ariana stumbled outside, pushing past panicked men and women. Some were knelt on the ground, preying to the Holy Lord for an explanation and protection. Off in the distance, thick black smoke billowed above the tree line.

Maybe she was crazy after all. Maybe Father and the village were right to think her need for knowledge would get her into trouble. But Ariana shoved those thoughts aside and dove into the trees circling the village.

Branches scratched and pricked at her skin as she clawed her way through the undergrowth. An acrid smell had her eyes stinging. Despite that and the incessant coughing from the thick vapors, she pushed through.

A sudden break in the trees caused Ariana to stumble. Sharp rocks embedded themselves in her palms as she reached out to catch herself. Little fires burned and set a red haze everywhere. In the middle of the clearing, an enormous hunk of metal sat crashed in the dirt. Half of it was embedded in the Earth. The other half rose up as tall as the tallest oaks.

Ariana's breath hitched as a panel folded down from the front. Small lanterns glittered along the edges of the panel.

Standing at the top of the platform was the tallest woman Ariana had ever seen. Moonlight hair flowed in waves down to her waist. The woman was donned in a sleek silver dress that clung to her lithe form. With each step, the material shimmered and shone like the metal of the craft behind her.

Ariana knew she should be terrified. This stranger looked nothing like anyone she had ever seen, and had fallen from the sky. She could be a soldier of Satan, or an evil beast disguised as a beauty. But Ariana felt no fear. It was as though the presence of the strange woman created a calming aura around her.

The strange being slowly stepped down the rampway. Her movements were sleek, like a gazelle. Ariana shifted, trying to see better, and a twig snapped. The woman paused for a moment, gaze shifting until it found Ariana. Then she continued forward.

It could have been moments, days, weeks, years, eons, Ariana didn't know. Everything had been pinpointed to this inhumanly beautiful woman. Towering over her, long limber limbs and almost translucent skin filled Ariana's vision.

But it was the eyes that sucked her in. Eyes with no pupils, no iris, nothing but inky blackness. A blackness that held the moon, the stars, and the entirety of the universe.

A soft smile crossed the alien's lips. She touched a hand to Ariana's forehead. Then everything went black.

[shinylights]

madonna’s speech about people hating on you means you must be doing something right just hits differently hearing how people are shitting on harry after last night…

[the-kittens-of-vol-tron]

Angst prompt based off something that I overheard that could definitely be angsty:

"Are you stupid? Why are you saying it doesn't hurt when you're in pain?!"

Idk I feel like Klangst

My baby :(

Trigger Warning: - Blood - Major Injury

-----

Lance slumped against the wall, wishing he could slide his helmet off. Every breath stung, sharp pain exploding over his chest as he forced himself to inhale. He pressed the back of his head against the wall, grinding his teeth as his hands held the object lodged in his right rib cage. 

Just breathe Lance. This isn’t so bad. Just in and out, he commanded himself.  Fighting the urge to scream in pain. 

“Alright Paladins, we need to get off the ship before it explodes.” Shiro said, “get to your lions and head back to the castle. Pidge how much time do we have before the bombs detonated?” 

“About five dobosh’s,” the green paladin called back. 

“How far is everyone from their lions?” Shiro asked. 

“Back in Yellow!” Hunk said, peppiness in his voice. 

“Almost back to Green!” Pidge called. 

“Running up to Red now,” Keith said through panting. 

“I’m in my lion...what about you Lance?” Shiro called out. 

Lance opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his tongue. 

“Buddy?” Hunk asked, anxiety plaguing his voice. 

He could only manage a wet cough. Splattering the inside of his helmet with blood. 

“Lance?!” Pidge screamed. 

“I’m fine- got some metal in my chest...no biggie,” he wheezed out. 

Panic exploded over the coms, Shiro demanding to know his location while Pidge frantically scanned for him. 

“Just leave- don’t have time,” he took a shaky breath, coughs forcing their way out. “Time to save me.” 

“Got him!” Pidge said, “this is where he’s located.” 

“I’m closet!” Keith called out. Everyone get out of here. I’m going to go get him.” Keith was already running as he spoke. 

Shiro screamed at Keith over the comms, but whatever he said fell on deaf ears. Lance could only focus on the roar of blood in his ears. His speeding heart rate. Does your heart get faster the closer you are to death? He released a morbid laugh, he should have paid attention in health class. 

A familiar red filled his vision, hands on his shoulders. “Guys I have him. Lance...can you hear me?” 

“Hey," a rattle breath, "Mullet.” 

Keith rolled his eyes, “come on. I need to get you out of here.” He slid his arms under his armpits. Lifting quickly. 

Lance choked on a scream, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

“Sorry-shit sorry.” Keith frantically said as he got Lance on his feet. “I'll make this up to you I swear.” 

Lance leaned on him, unsure what words were coming out of his mouth. Sleep tugged at him and he wanted nothing more than to embrace it with open arms. 

More pain.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” Keith said under his breath as he began to run down the hallway. Carrying Lance bridal style. 

Every step felt like fire. Every subtle movement was the equivalent of electricity through his veins. He chew on his inner cheek until more metallic taste filled his mouth. He didn’t want Keith to feel more guilty for trying to help him. 

“Just under a dobosh Keith!” Shiro said, panic seeping through his usual collectiveness. 

“Coming up on Red now! Is Blue going to be okay?” Keith asked as he reached his lion, holding Lance even tighter. 

“Don’t worry about the Blue lion. She will follow you back to the castle,” Allura’s voice made its way through the coms. 

“Roger.” Keith panted. He laid Lance down on the small beds each lion has. “I’ll be right back. I need to get us off this ship.”

Lance gave a shaky thumbs up, groaning as the lion began to move. 

“Stay awake for me Lance!” 

He smiled to himself, of course, Keith would be concerned for him. He was always protective of Lance. “Yes sir,” he slurred out. 

He felt himself fading out more, only snapping back some when his helmet was slid off his head. “Almost back to the castle,” Keith’s eyes scanned his body, focusing on the metal still lodged in Lance’s body. “Sorry for moving you. I may have caused more damage doing that.” 

Lance lifted his hand weakly, trying to wave his hand. Attempting to tell his fellow paladin that he held no hard feelings. He did save his life after all. “Doesn’t hurt.” He slurred out. 

Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” 

Lance closed his eyes, trying to take a deep breath through his nose. “Doesn’t hurt.” He stated again. As if Keith didn’t hear him.

“Are you stupid?!” Keith flicked the other boy’s forehead. “Why are you saying it doesn’t hurt when you’re in pain?!” His voice rose slightly, his eyes scanning his face multiple times. 

Lance tried to meet his eyes, but he didn’t have much energy left. “You’re pretty." One more clunky breath. "Even with a stupid mullet.” He slipped into a slumber, Keith’s pleading fading away. 

.

.

.

.

.

He felt himself falling, strong arms wrapping around him tightly. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” Hunk whispered. 

Lance hugged him back, enjoying the strength of the hug. “Think I would die on you? Have some faith.” 

Hunk laughed as he pulled away. Wiping his eyes on the process. 

Lance looked around at his friend. “Where’s everyone else?” 

“Asleep. It’s basically three in the morning.” 

“Ah,” Lance rubbed his eyes. “Guess we should head to bed then.” 

Hunk smiled, “want some food first?” 

The blue paladin shook his head. “Proper sleep first, I’ll eat later.” 

“Alright,” Hunk patted his shoulder, “I’ll walk you to your room.” 

They whispered back and forth, Hunk giving him one more crushing hug. He slipped into his room. Unzipping the back of the body suit, letting it fall off his arms. Keeping it around his waist. He reached into his closet, pulling out the first shirt he touched.

A hesitant knock sounded on his door. 

He tilted his head and made the way to the door, the shirt in his hands. “Yeah Hunk?” He said as the door swooshed open. 

Keith stood on the other side. His posture was stiff but his eyes filled with relief. “You’re awake.” 

“Keith?” He was about to say more, maybe crack a joke or two but two arms wrapped around him. Causing them both to stumble into his room. The door closed behind Keith. Shaking. 

“I’m so glad you're okay. I was so worried about you.” He mumbled into Lance’s chest. 

Lance released an uncomfortable laugh, hesitantly wrapping his arms around the other boy. Nothing to worry about, just an attractive man hugging him. “Yeah...I’m okay.” 

They hugged for a bit, and Keith pulled back first. His eyes were glued to the white color on Lance’s ribs. A new scar to add to the collection. He pressed his hand against the skin, his thumb moving slightly over it. “We could have lost you.”

Lance swallowed, his eyes glues to Keith’s face. “I’m here.”

“I could have lost you.”  The raven boy whispered. Seeming to curl into himself ever so slightly. 

“You didn’t,” Lance lifted his head up with his fingers. Gently cupping his face with his hands. His thumbs moved against his surprisingly soft skin. “I’m right here. And it’s all because of you.” 

“...you called me pretty.” 

“When I was delirious?” 

Keith nodded, laughing softly. 

“I mean. You are pretty, that wasn't a lie.” Lance said, ignoring the blush rising on his face. 

“Shut up,” Keith pressed his face back into his chest. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Lance rested his cheek on Keith’s head. “I promise I won’t.” 

-----

Soft Pre Establish Klance 

I hope you liked it!

Thank you <33333

[phoenixcatch7]

I want to write. A saiki k x superman crossover. SO BAD.

Luckily for me, I have actually seen both shows/media (to an extent), which feels increasingly rare these days lmao. I've got two ideas, and I don't know which one I like more. I will say this ended up being a LONG POST.

Either an accidental dimension cross, where saiki gets teleported to dc. He spends a couple hours figuring out what's going on, exploring his options and getting important lore via telepathy, but without being willing to mind control some hotel for a room or whatever he winds up people watching atop a skyscraper in some American city, just absorbing the concepts of public power use and heroes and aliens and all sorts. Reflecting on it's differences. That's when Clark decides to check in on this kid who hasn't moved for hours on patrol. Their heartbeat is calm, no stress, so he wasn't worried but he really should check.

Saiki, of course, has heard all about superman. What's available to the public, at least. An alien. He might feel better if he were an alien, at least then he'd know why. He doesn't really expect him to appear, but maybe he should have. Because it's only seconds after they greet each other and superman moves to sit down that saiki is hit with a plethora of background subconscious that's he's so used to himself. 'check your grip don't react move slower look away from the skeleton check your grip you didn't hear that relax your eyes you'll need to reapply bruise makeup after yesterday check your grip don't get distracted ignore ignore ignore-'

Ah. Maybe here. Here is someone who... Might understand.

I think they'd get on very well. Secret identities because you just want a normal life. Sometimes you can't help to help. You know a million private things you shouldn't and it's not your fault. No one ever shuts up even when they're silent and you're living in a world of cardboard. Superman would definitely check saiki was actually human XD. Maybe a bit of banter. Saiki gets to vent and talk and supes gets someone who isn't a blood relative lol. They talk until sundown and watch the shrimp colours and after Clark treats saiki to something sweet.

The other is a world fusion au, where saiki grows up alongside aliens and demons and maybe superheroes. Would it be better if he was the same gen as the jl or maybe younger?

What if saiki was kryptonian though. Some weird flavour. And his parents never think about it because baby saiki decided they were his parents and so they were. They just found a weird hunk of metal in the mountains on their honeymoon and little kusuke was so young he'd clean forgotten he had a new baby brother! He got over it though! So saiki grows up not knowing and eventually finds a cheap germanian ring, with a fake emerald in the center. It's blissfully silent, but wearing it too long makes him feel a bit nauseous. To be fair, blocking his own powers probably isn't very healthy. He heard there would be an eclipse tonight, over the ocean, and he wants to go see.

He's not alone. There's someone else there, also flying high above the ocean, hundreds of miles away from any land mass. His thoughts are - blurred, a bit faint, like a radio channel he's not properly tuned in to.

The other person, they noticed him too. They're miles apart, it shouldn't be possible. Another psychic?

I don't know which way it would go from there. If it was a same age, it'd be before everything hits the fan, narratively. Saiki and Clark would spend after school going to each others houses (though 80% of the time saiki would be the one going to Clark's) across continents, bonding and testing each others powers, getting into petty challenges. They both would be so good for each other, as equals, and saiki especially needs healthy friendships at that age. Then Mrs Kent mentions how Clark was found one night over dinner, blindsiding saiki because it just never came up in their everyday lives. Everyone assumes saiki was too, that he must be whatever Clark is, but he's not...?

And then they find the fortress of solitude. Meet jor el. And yeah, he very much is.

Psychic, yes. Human? Not so much. In fact, his parents were famous oracles who predicted the death of krypton to such an extent they were dismissed as fear mongers despite their powerful abilities. Jor had shared ship tech with them but never knew if they managed to use it.

Featuring several major identity crises for poor saiki and eventually a hero partner because Japan might be left mostly alone but metropolis sure isn't and unlike saiki supes can't duplicate himself (he's holding out for a yet but saiki just rolls his eyes at him when he says that). There's eight people who found the jl. Saiki REALLY likes mm. Batman is a traitor to normality.

If it were canon ages, there'd be a lot of mentor adoption. Saiki would appear helping to stop some alien invasion with his bare hands and then bows and tries to duck away. He isn't interested in hero stuff no siree but supes keeps politely tricking him into coming round to the farm, where he meets kids in similar situations (bcz supes adopts kon here f u) and sees how they handle it. Lots of tag teaming and attempts at pranking that all fail the saiki k way. There's so much else in the world they don't doubt saikis just Like That Psychic until he brings his ring. They all hone in immediately that 'that's kryptonite' and saiki maintains that it's the metal not the gem that muffled him until someone straight up steals the gem off the ring and he freezes in horror.

Lots of hijinks including 'you're supposed to be in school! Not JAPAN' and packs of overpowered teenagers roving the Japanese mountains looking for a possible krypton pod. Kusuke is feeling VERY VALIDATED RN and also incomprehensibly furious. It's a comedy of errors whenever any of them show up at saikis school or when he's with his friends. His parents remain oblivious while he grapples with either telling them he's adopted (painfully ironic), somehow undoing a decade and a half of mind control, how he'd even go about it... Makoto wakes up one night in Brazil because he made a comment in his house when kon was staying over for tea at saikis.

[grampstaxidermy87]

Behind locked doors

Requester: @badasseddy

Request: Hello there! I saw you taking requests and I neeeeeeed some more Sheriff Hassan in my life.can you write something with a fem!reader, when she's being harassed regularly (house broken into, stolen items and stuff, weird messages left) and nobody believes her. Hassan doesn't even know about this before overhearing the reader confront someone suspicious. So he tries to help the reader, maybe the sheriff spends a night at the reader's place to look out or something. It can be a little bit smutty, kinda angsty, and I would die to have Hassan in action, cathing the bad guy, saving the day.Thank you very much, I hope this gives you an idea.

An: Hello love sorry this took so long but thank you for the request! I agree there's not enough love for this hunk of a man! Hassan is legit my favorite character and I am in love with Rahul.Anyways I hope you enjoy darlin!

Warning:18+,slightSmut, swearing,stalking, break-ins, death, blood,stabbing.

It was funny really.

How the very second you show signs that your life isn’t perfect...that you’re different...everyone turns their backs on you. Just when you need them most, they look at you like you’re the devil coming to corrupt their ‘pure’ souls.

How fucking hypocritical.

Letting out an irritated sigh I tossed the broken lock into the metal can by my front gate, putting the lid back on I tugged my sweater closer when I felt another chill from the wind. The night was cold and windy as the island prepared for a small storm that would be passing by later tonight.

Normally I enjoyed a night of listening to the rain, sitting on my covered porch with a good book and coffee and just listen to it fall. It was soothing to me…but now I dreaded the thought of being alone at night for longer than a minute or two.

“Well, Howdy neighbor!” I jumped at the sudden intrusion to my thoughts, whipping around to see a dreadfully familiar face.

“G-Good evening, Wilbur.” I greeted back to the towering figure who leaned against the fence that separated us. Something I was grateful for.

Wilbur Murphy was my next-door neighbor, having moved into the old Mulberry’s house a month ago after they moved back to mainland to be closer to their daughter who just gave birth to their first grandchild.

I had been close to the elderly couple, being the last two houses on the street, so it saddened me to see them go. I had hoped to have the same neighborly relationship with the person who moved into their home, expecting them to be just as lovely as the Mulberry’s.

Instead what I got was a man who gave me the chills just by thinking about him, I knew it was wrong of me to start accusing the man of things without hard evidence.

But the signs all pointed to him! Ever since Wilbur moved in next door, I had received creepy letters phrased like a husband writing love notes to his wife, not to mention the few times I had even caught him snooping around my garbage when he thought I wasn’t home.

So when I began to see signs that someone was breaking into my home at night and messing with things why wouldn’t I assume it was him, but the worst part of it all was that no matter who I told everyone looked at me the same way.

Like I was crazy..

“That’s the fifth lock this week and it isn’t even Thursday! Those kids still messing with you?” The ‘friendly’ man inquired with a sickeningly sweet smile, and it took everything in me to hold down the bile that rose in my throat.

A small uncomfortable smile graced my lips as I forced out a laugh, "Ah Yea, you know those kids love their little pranks.” He grinned wider and nodded, "You know I could come keep you company tonight, make sure they don’t mess with you again tonight. It really isn’t good for a young woman like you to be all by herself in a big house like that.”

My stomach twisted at his offer, but before I even got the chance to turn him down, I heard the familiar click of my gate moving. “Evening Mr. Murphy. (Y/n).” Relief flooded my heart as I looked over to see the sheriff leaning against the old metal. His eyes were suspicious as they eyed the Creepy man but when they fell onto me, they turned soft and tender.

It was hard to ignore how much it affected me, leaving a pleasantly tingly feeling throughout my body and I knew there was probably a blush rising on my face.

There were only three people on the entire Island who knew of my crush on the island sheriff, My best friends Sarah and Erin…. And the sheriff's own son, Ali.

How the teen figured it out still puzzled me to this day, He had told me that he knew during one of our weekly piano sessions. The kid was smart, I’d give him that.

“Sheriff, what can I do for you?” Wilbur asked with barely hidden spite in his voice, clearly annoyed by the interruption.

Hassan saw right through it though, keeping a calm and easy facade but I could see the small quirk of amusement on the corner of his lip that drove me wild.

“Just doing my nightly rounds before the storm hits, Miss (L/n) here asked me earlier to help her prep.” He shot me a wink when he saw the confusion on my face, understanding donned on me and I quickly schooled my expression before Wilbur looked back at me.

“Oh, there’s no need to both such a busy man. Don’t worry about it sheriff, I can help (Y/n).” He just wouldn’t take the hint would he.

Hassan was unphazed however, shaking his head and waving the man off. “It's fine Mr. Murphy, she’s my last stop anyways. Plus, what kind of man would I be if I went back on my promises.”

Wilbur was getting frustrated, that much was certain as he realized Hassan would not be deterred no matter how hard he tried.

“I see...I suppose you’re right. Well, if you find yourself needing more capable assistance (Y/n),you know where to find me.” He spit giving Hassan a dirty look before turning and storming off back into his house.

It suddenly was easier to breath as I placed a hand on my chest, Looking over gratefully to my handsome hero I saw him closing the gate and walking over to my side.

“Is he always that...pleasant?” Hassan asked with a quirk of his split brow. Oh, how I’d love to kiss it...

“Sadly…that isn’t even the worst of it. Usually he’s much more persistent.” Concern filled those entrancing dark eyes of his as his brows furrowed together.

“I want an explanation. Now!” I looked down in shame at his scolding gaze.

Taking a deep breath, I braced myself before telling him everything, the broken locks, the missing items, the notes…everything.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this (Y/n)?! (Y/n) the badge isn’t just for show, and even without it I am still your friend.” His expression was one of hurt, it was hard to look into his eyes...

“You should be able to tell me shit like this! Do you know how much I care about you?! I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something happened to you and I could have prevented it!” My eyes were wide when he finished, his breathing heavy as his worry crashed into my heart in waves. I hadn’t expected him to care so much..

“Hassan...” he took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I’m sorry..It’s just..You were the first one to welcome Ali and me onto Crockett with open arms and not a hint of prejudice, (Y/n) you have been there for me through every bad day. Hell, you even protected my son against Beverly when she was being her usual racist ass self! Yea he told me all about that, which thank you...”

A heavy blush was visible on my face at his praise, I had told Ali not to tell his father because I didn’t want him to possibly get in a fight with the devilish woman and risk getting in trouble.

“P-Please don’t thank me, Ali is a sweet kid and didn’t deserve the shit she spewed out of that unholy mouth of hers.” I gulped looking anywhere but him so I didn’t have to risk becoming more of a flustered mess.

“What I’m getting at is that Ali loves you (Y/n)…and he’s not the only one.” The last part was spoken as a whisper. His deep voice going so soft that I had almost missed it.

Almost.

My heart was soaring, I was on cloud 9, The very man who has plagued my every thought since he moved onto this horrible island just admitted that he loved me.

Say something (Y/n)! Anything!

Floundering like a fish trying to come up with some totally intelligent way to voice my own feelings I watched as misunderstanding flooded those dark eyes of his.

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I’m sorry for just tossing this on you.” He began to rethink everything and close in on himself but right as he went to back away, I collected myself. Quicker than he could react I grabbed the collar of his Jean jacket and pulled him closer.

Crashing our lips together he wasted no time in sliding his arm around my waist and tangling a strong hand in my hair, his mustache tickled my nose from how hard we were pressed together. I could care less, I have waited for this moment for too long to let anything stand in my way now that I knew he felt the same.

We pulled away for air, the taller man leaning his forehead against mine as an awed expression covered his face, his eyes shut in pure bliss. “Better than I thought it would be...” I giggled softly at his mumbled words.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you.” His eyes opened and a dopey grin pulled at his lips, "Looks like I have a lot of lost time to make up for then, Huh?” Matching his excitement, I gasped as he lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist while holding onto his shoulders.

Our laughter filled the air as he carried me inside…stuck in our own little world we missed the curtains ripping shut next door.

—————

Hassan winced as he shoulder-checked the doorway, but he didn’t dare to drop me as he kicked the door closed and set me down on the kitchen counter.

Standing between my legs he focused solely on my lips that were meshed against his as his hands squeezed my hips making me gasp into his mouth, with my lips parting it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in to taste me.

"Fuck, you're intoxicating..." He groaned when he pulled away and moved down to my bare neck, kissing and nibling at my sensitive skin.

"H-Hassan, please...touch me..." His breath hitched in his throat at my whine, feeling his pants tighten as I begged for him to relieve the pressure twisting away in my gut.

"Don't worry baby, When I'm done with you, you're gonna be screaming my name." He said with that devilish smirk that drove me crazy. His hands sunk down to push my skirt up until it pooled on my hips.His mustache tickled as he kissed the tender flesh of my neck,all while I watched his every move with eager anticipation. A shiver rolled up my spine when the cold air hit my clothed privates. "Look at you, already so wet for me...shit baby..."

He pulled away slightly and licked his lips as he lightly grazed his thumb over the growing wet patch on my silk panties, "Don't tease!" I whimpered shifting on the counter in an attempt to press harder on his hand.

Amused by my pitiful effort he pulled his hand away,smirking when I whined at the loss of contact. “As much as I want to fuck you into the counter right now,let me make sure everything is safe first.” The look on my face was simply comical as he stepped away. “You’re a jerk!” I huffed feeling unsatisfied as I fixed my skirt and slipped off the counter.

His chuckle filled my ears as I pushed past him,only to gasp when a strong grasp caught my waist and pulled me into a warm body. His breath tickled my ear as he leaned into me,his hands gripping the meat of my hips to the point where I knew I’d have bruises by morning…good.

“You love it,besides I plan on making sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” A whimper built in my throat by the promise in his words,”But I have a piano lesson with-“ my voice quit on me when I felt his hot tongue on the shell of my ear,making my knees grow weak. Luckily his grip on my was the only thing keeping me stable.

“I think his father will understand,though that just means you’ll have to make it up to me..and I’ve already got plenty of ideas.” His husky tone vibrated in my mind,leaving me with nothing but the thought of him and what he was going to do to me.

“Hassan..” turning my face towards his I stared at his lips as he did the same to mine. Sharing our breath..I didn’t know who made the first move but I was thankful as we hungrily devoured each other,he turned my body and hugged me close as his hands knotted in my hair.

I pulled away enough to kiss along his jaw as I fought with the buttons of his work shirt,”Hah..baby you’re so fucking-“ a sudden thump from the second floor caused us to both freeze.

His grip tightened as he stared at the ceiling,whispering lowly to me when he noticed my hands shaking. “I’m guessing you don’t have a cat?” He clenched his jaw when he saw me shake my head out of the corner of his eye.

“Grab a knife and hide,wait for me to come get you.” Before I could argue he pulled away and began making his way to the hall that led to my stairway.

Reluctant to leave him alone I pulled a knife from the block on the counter and quickly followed him.

He sighed when he saw me,shaking his head he knew it was a long shot to get me to stay behind. “Stay behind me and don’t leave my sight.” He whispered and I nodded in understanding.

He took my hand and kept me close as he quietly trekked up the steep staircase,when we made it to the second floor I tensed when I saw that at the end of the hall the window had been opened and the picture frame on the wall next to it had fallen to the floor.

“Stay here,they might still be in the house.” I nodded and held the knife in both hands in front of me as I watched him slowly approach the window,stopping only to grab an empty vase from a drawer.

He glanced through the window to check for any signs of possible intruders before he turned towards me to say something…only for a loud thump to stop him. His head snapped to the door next to him that I knew led to my guest room, he glanced at me for a second to motion for me to be quiet as he shifted the vase in his grasp before slowly grasping and turning the handle.

I inched closer as he pushed the door open, looking around the dark room before letting out a sigh,”Nothi-“ I screamed when a blur tackled him to the ground,The vase shattered beside his head from the sheer force of his fall.

“Hassan!” I screamed when I realized he had been knocked out before looking towards his attacker with fear.

I should have known…

“Hello neighbor.” Wilbur Murphy leered at me with a terrifying grin.

“This whole time..it was you..” He chuckled darkly,finding the tremble in my voice adorable. He easily lifted himself off of Hassan before slowly approaching me.

“I’m surprised you hadn’t realized sooner darling,all those gifts and love notes. But it’s alright,I’m just glad I don’t have to sneak around and hide my love for you anymore!” Tears filled my eyes as I began backing away,holding the knife higher with trembling hands.

“S-Stay away from me!” His smile fell a bit,”Now darling I know you’re scared,But think of it this way:I know everything about you. You’re deepest darkest secrets all the way to the most intimate parts of you,I know you better than you know yourself!” He laughed holding his arms out as if expecting me to run into them.

I’d rather die.

“You’re a monster…you made me think I was going crazy…everyone thought I was crazy..” he had the audacity to not even look ashamed,in fact he looked proud of himself.

“Amazing isn’t it,all I had to do was flash a smile at those whores and they were ready to believe whatever I told them.” He hummed dropping his hands and giving me a once-over as he grew closer.

“You always were different,never one to fall for my flirty quips and smiles..it’s what attracted me first.That..Independence that I wanted to ruin..to make you reliant on me and only me was my biggest wish.” I froze when I felt the edge of the steps on my heel,I was trapped.

And he knew it.

“Don’t fight me (Y/n)…come with me and I will worship you,as you deserve.” He stopped once the tip of the knife pressed against his chest,not pressing hard enough to slice the skin but enough to show he wasn’t afraid of it.

I flinched when his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear,”I’ll kill him if you say no.” It made me sick to my stomach,how he could say such a horrible thing with that charming smile.

“I won’t let you hurt him.” His smile turn to a stoic expression,his eyes showing just how deadly he was.

“You don’t have a cho-“ motion behind him caught my attention,tossing the knife behind me I quickly threw myself at the wall and out of the way.

Wilbur yelled out in shock as a strong force body slammed him from behind,causing him to fall face first down the steps.

“Hassan!” I yelled grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him back before he could fall to,we both tumbled back just as Wilbur reached the bottom with a loud thud.

“Shit…Are you okay?” He shifted onto his side to look me over for any signs of injury.

Shaking my head I let out a haggard breath,”No…All this time and he was right next door..” he frowned and sat up,carefully lifting me into his arms and hugging me close. “It’s over..He can’t hurt you now.” Tears cascaded down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his neck,He comfortingly rubbed my back,cooing loving words into my ear as he looked down the staircase.

Wilbur Murphy laid unmoving at the bottom,his limbs twisted in disgusting ways a the kitchen knife was buried deep in his back.

Hassan would make sure no one ever hurt the ones he loved ever again.

[wandaromanova]

Can you do a fluffy wanda one (with a little angst because of course) where reader and wanda are best friends, reader wants more, but thinks wanda is interested in vision so she doesnt say anything. And then one day a mission goes wrong, and reader gets into an accident that results in her getting powers, and it makes wanda wake up and confess her feelings?

Requited Love

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, injury, that’s all!

A/N: hello! i hope you enjoy what i’ve created out of your request, anon! sorry i couldn’t think about how i could incorporate the powers part of the request! not proofread, so i apologize for any grammatical errors! join my taglist here <3

Summary: Wanda Maximoff and Y/N L/N are your typical best friends who refuse to admit their feelings for each other.

Word Count: 3.3K (had a lil too much fun with this)

(gif is not mine)

You and your best friend, Wanda, had been friends practically since the moment she had joined the team. Being the youngest Avenger, you were so excited that there would finally be another member that was close to your age. Despite the events of Sokovia, you didn’t fear the woman. If anything, it only made the urge to get closer to her stronger.

Her powers absolutely mesmerized you. From the color of her powers to the different ways she could use them to her advantage; it was mind blowing how much power she had literally at her fingertips. As time went on, you and Wanda became very close. You’d always have movie nights together in your room, which eventually led to the Sokovian woman peacefully sleeping next to you in your bed.

Not only was Wanda drop dead gorgeous, but she was genuine and humble. She had confided in you about the many different traumas she had been through and expressed how the surreal amount of grief constantly consumed her. It broke your heart to know that such an amazing person was put through so much.

Her past could’ve easily turned her into a villain, but she decided to go the opposite direction. She came to the conclusion that her powers could help others and that’s what she had chosen to do in Sokovia and up to now. It was why she had agreed to join the Avengers in the first place. Wanda knew how awful the world could be and she wanted to be there for people the way that her family had been before they passed. The amount of respect you had for Wanda was immeasurable.

Over the span of two years, you and Wanda became joined to the hip. Wanda didn’t even sleep in her own bed anymore. Before, she would just accidentally fall asleep in your room or sneak into your room in the late hours of the night to sleep with you. But now, she just barged into your room every night and slept there. She said that you kept the nightmares she had at bay and you were more than happy to be there for her if it meant she got a full night’s rest.

You both jumped at any opportunity you guys could to be on the same mission as the other. You not only wanted to spend time with her, but you wanted to protect her. Lord knows that Wanda of all people could handle herself, but it kept you at peace when you were with her; knowing that she had you to back her up. Naturally, you fell in love with your best friend.

At first, you thought you were just confusing your special platonic friendship with Wanda for romantic feelings. But sometimes you caught yourself wanting to kiss Wanda. You knew damn well that friends don’t daydream about making out with each other. So, yeah, you definitely had feelings for Wanda, but there was one thing standing in your way; Vision.

Vision basically joined the team at the same time Wanda did. He was created during the Ultron situation and has been an Avenger since then. Wanda and Vision were very close. They weren’t as close as you and Wanda were, but he was a close second. They had a bond over the mind stone that you couldn’t ever compete with. This fact discouraged you and forced you to keep your mouth shut. You’d rather keep your feelings to yourself and suffer in private than risk your friendship with Wanda.

I mean, you didn’t even know if Wanda was into girls! She could be as straight as a wooden ruler and you would most definitely embarrass yourself if you told her. Vision wasn’t exactly a man by any means, he was a robot. If Wanda were to like Vision that must mean you had a chance right? Not to be an ass, but he’s literally a hunk of metal. Regardless of all these thoughts, you knew at the end of the day that you would have to hide your feelings for the sake of maintaining the relationship you currently have with the Sokovian.

You did pretty good at hiding your feelings for awhile. You acted as if everything was normal and not like you were emotionally crying out inside every time you saw Wanda with Vision. It began to get too much when you had caught sight of the pair cooking Paprikash in the communal kitchen. Cooking was something you and Wanda used to do together. It was kind of your thing. It may seem silly, but watching her do something with Vision that used to be sacred to you both hurt.

You began to distance yourself the closer Wanda and Vision got together. What sucked even more was that Wanda didn’t even acknowledge your sudden distance. She no longer slept in your room, opting to spend her nights with Vision. You were dying inside and Wanda didn’t even care to notice.

You had a mission to get to today. Usually, Wanda would be down in the hangar whenever you were going on a mission without her, but she wasn’t there today. She was probably off somewhere with Vision, again. It stung that Wanda didn’t even want to see you off. She was so preoccupied with Vision that she didn’t even give you a second thought. A toaster was stealing your best friend who you just so happened to be madly in love with away from you. And you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

So, you reluctantly got onto the Quinjet with Steve who was accompanying you on the mission. Fury only sent you two in for this mission because it was a simple one. It didn’t require the entire team to complete. You both were to capture and detain the scientist responsible for the latest human experimentations at the hands of Hydra. From the intel gathered by S.H.I.E.L.D, their security wasn’t that bad so it would be a walk in the park for you and Steve. You had just left and you already desperately wanted to go home and wallow in your own self pity in the comfort of your bed.

But first, you had to get this mission over with. The Quinjet landed a little far away from the small Hydra base. You and Steve made your way out of the jet and began to trudge your way toward the building. As you guys got closer, Steve stopped abruptly.

“No matter what, we stick together okay? Just because this should be an easy mission, doesn’t mean we should let our guard down. Understand?” He lectured you sternly as he stared at you intensely.

“Yeah. I got it, Cap.” You replied to him dismissively as you continued to make your way toward the building. You took note of the five guards that were guarding the entrance and gave Steve a nod before you both sprung into action.

After you guys had taken down the entrance guards, you both sneakily made your way into the building. It was pretty easy to find your target, seeing that the building was the size of a house. You and Steve barged into the room, the scientist whipping around quickly and freezing in shock at the sight of you both.

Steve quickly charged at the man and placed him into handcuffs. As Steve pulled the man up by the collar, forcing him to his feet, a thought crossed your mind. This is too easy. Only five guards and the professor was just conveniently in here? This had to be a setup.

Before you could voice your concerns to Steve, you felt a sharp pain rip through your shoulder as Hydra agents flooded into the room. You fell to your knees in pain as Steve threw the target to the ground. He quickly began to fight as many agents as he could. You stood up as you tried to temporarily forget the pain. You began to take on agents yourself. Despite being injured, you kicked their asses with ease.

You were down to the last agent while Steve was pulling the scientist back up to his feet, much more aggressively this time. For some reason, your thoughts went to Wanda. How would she react to your injury? Would she even bother to visit you to make sure you were okay?

Unfortunately, you had chosen the wrong time to become distracted by your thoughts of Wanda. While your thoughts were racing, you failed to notice the glint of a knife in the agent’s left hand. As you blocked one of his punches, he quickly stabbed you right in the stomach. At this, Steve jumped in to help you and made quick work of knocking out the man who stabbed you.

You fully fell to the floor this time, gasping for air. Not only were you shot, but now you got stabbed. Seriously? Did god decide you weren’t already having a shitty enough time? Steve quickly picked you up in his arms in a panic. He carried you to the Quinjet while making sure the scientist was following behind you both. Steve placed your body onto the medical table that was in the Quinjet, handcuffed the man to a railing, and sped off to the compound. He took note of how much blood you lost; it was a lot to say the least. If he didn’t get to the compound soon, he feared you wouldn’t make it; and that wasn’t an option.

The 30 minute trip to the compound turned into a 15 minute ride. Steve quickly rushed you into the medical wing of the compound and placed you into the care of Doctor Helen Cho. He knew he had to tell the team about what happened. The Avengers were a family, and you being the youngest meant you were like a child to them, well besides Wanda obviously.

Steve hurriedly made his way into the living room of the Avenger’s living quarters and made sure Jarvis informed everyone that it was an emergency. As Steve entered, everyone turned to face him with worry present on each of their faces.

“What’s wrong, Rogers? Is everything okay?” Natasha asked as she looked over his body. There was an insane amount of blood all over his star-spangled suit. “It’s Y/N.”

At Steve’s words, everyone in the room stood in shock as their jaws dropped. But no one’s feelings could compare to Wanda’s. She abruptly stood up from the couch and made her way towards Steve.

“What about her? What happened to her?” Wanda began to get angry as hints of her powers made their way to her eyes. Steve took a step back and looked at Wanda before returning his gaze back to the other people in the room. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the room.

“We went on a mission together. It was supposed to be an easy in and out thing. But we were setup. She got shot in the shoulder and stabbed in the abdomen. She’s in the medical wing right now.” Steve spoke strongly, attempting to remain calm for the sake of the team, but he was terrified inside. Your state refused to leave his mind. Your limp body in his arms as your warm blood covered his hands.

Wanda didn’t say another word as she ran towards the elevator and impatiently hit the button to the medical wing. She didn’t bother to wait for anyone else. Nothing mattered right now except you.

Wanda had feelings for you. Ever since she met you, you were this light in the darkness that was her life. You could cheer her up when no one else could. You knew her better than she knew herself. You were not only her best friend, but you were the woman she was irrevocably in love with. She was terrified to tell you how she felt. She thought she would lose you if she had confessed how she truly felt for you. So, she remained quiet and tried to forget about her feelings for you by hanging out with Vision more. She wasn’t using Vision by any means, she genuinely did enjoy his company. But he wasn’t you.

Wanda didn’t even wait for the elevator doors to fully open as she squeezed herself through the small gap and made her way towards the medical bay doors. Before Wanda could open the door, Steve abruptly grabbed her hand, stopping her from going any further. He must’ve taken the stairs. Damn his super soldier abilities.

“Wanda. Stop. I know you’re worried about Y/N, we all are. But barging in there won’t be any help. You need to let Cho and her nurses focus on helping her.” Steve desperately tried to talk some sense into Wanda; it worked. Wanda’s shoulders slumped as she made her way towards the seating area that was right outside the doors. All she could do was sit, wait, and pray to whatever god there was that you would be okay.

Wanda didn’t even know you were going on a mission today. If she did, she would’ve went to the hangar and hugged you before she left, like she always did. Oh fuck, she didn’t even get to see you off and now look at your state. Now that she thought about it, she had been neglecting you for some time now. She let her fear of her feelings consume her. She spent more time with Vision than with you, and now she wasn’t sure if she would get the opportunity to be with you again. The thought of not being able to tell you how in love with you she was mortified her. This was the wake up call she needed.

——————————————————————————

2 hours later

After two agonizingly slow hours, Doctor Cho made her way towards the anxious group of heroes. Wanda shot up from her seat and approached Helen.

“How is she? Please, tell me she’s okay.” Wanda asks as she nervously chews on her bottom lip. “Y/N is fine. Luckily, the knife didn’t hit any major arteries. She won’t be able to make any sudden movements for the next few weeks which means no missions until I give her clearance.” At Cho’s words, the entire team was struck with relief. Wanda’s eyes lit up at the good news. You were okay. You were still here.

“Can we see her?” Steve asked from behind Wanda as he made his way to stand beside her. “Yes, shes awkward, but only one person can go in at a time. She’s very sensitive right now from the anesthesia.” Helen gave the team a smile before walking off.

Everyone looked at Wanda as she gave them a nod. Of course she had to go in first. You and Wanda may have been oblivious to each other’s feelings, but the team wasn’t. It was almost annoying how unaware you two were of how the other person felt.

Wanda quietly made her way into your room and almost let out a sigh of relief as she saw you laying on the table awake. You were trying to reach for a glass of water beside your bed, but the pain in your side made the small task a burden. Wanda quickly made her way to the table and handed you the glass of water. You were startled since you didn’t even hear her enter the room. You took the water from her hands and took a long sip before handing it back to her.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked coldly as you glared at the Sokovian woman. She was shocked at your animosity. You were never like this with her before. “I needed to make sure you were okay. I was worried sick.” Wanda frowned as she pulled a chair up to your bedside and sat in it.

“Oh. Now you suddenly remember I exist? It only took me nearly dying for you to notice me again.” You knew you weren’t being fair. You guys were just best friends and she was entitled to hang out and be with whoever she wanted. But the part of you that loved her and longed for more took over.

“Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as often. I got caught up hanging out with Vision when I should’ve been there for you.” Wanda’s eyes softened as she stared at your face. She missed you so much. She may have seen you around the compound, but she hasn’t been this close to you in what felt like decades.

“Yeah. You got caught up with Vision. Why don’t you just go back to him now. I’m fine.” You stubbornly spoke as you tore your eyes away from Wanda and stared out the window in front of your bed.

Wanda made a ballsy move and grabbed your hand in here. Thankfully, you didn’t move it away. “Y/N. I don’t care about Vision, I care about you. I love you and I mean that in more than a friendly way.” At Wanda’s words, your head snapped back to her as you looked over her features for any indication of a lie; you didn’t find any.

“I was spending time with Vision to try and forget my feelings for you. That obviously backfired and only solidified what I already knew I felt. I’m sorry it took such a terrible situation for me to finally grow the balls to tell you this. I love you Y/N.” Wanda squeezed your hand tightly as she stared at you full of love and adoration.

You were speechless. As cliche as it sounds, this was what you’ve wanted since the moment you laid eyes on her. She said the three words you’ve been longing to hear spill from her mouth. She loved you too.

“I love you too, Wanda. I’m sorry. I thought you had a thing for Vision and I let jealousy and insecurity get the better of me.” You looked down in shame as you tried to pull your hand out of Wanda’s hold, but she only gripped it tighter.

“Don’t be sorry. I completely understand. I’m so glad your okay and I’m so unbelievably happy that you feel the same way.” Wanda smiled brightly at you as you smiled right back. You guys must’ve looked like maniacs with your big, cheesy smiles, but you didn’t care.

Wanda began to slowly lean towards you. You attempted to meet her in the middle, but only ended up wincing in pain as you were reminded of your impressive stab wound. Wanda let out a laugh.

“Let me handle it, moya lyubov (my love).” Wanda said before closing the gap between you both and giving you a heated, desperate kiss. All the pent up emotions that you both had been withholding from each other were coming to light through this kiss. You guys were interrupted by the door swinging open abruptly and the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You both jumped apart as you cringed at the sting of your injuries. You turned to the door and caught sight of the team standing at the door with shit eating grins on their face.

“Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds. But we wanted to check on Y/N too. Cho gave us the clear to come in now.” Natasha smirked at yours and Wanda’s flustered states.

“Pay up, Barnes.” Sam said as he held his hand out to Bucky, who groaned before placing 50 dollars in his hand. You and Wanda stared at the two confused, Bucky took notice of this and decided to fill you both in.

“We made a bet on when you two would get together. I said in the next two months, he said in the next two weeks. He won.” Bucky gave you both a shy, almost embarrassed smile.

Everyone in the room laughed, making you and Wanda turn even more red than before. You didn’t care about the inevitable, endless teasing you would have to endure after today. You would deal with the comments forever as long as it meant Wanda was by your side. You once thought that she didn’t feel the same, and you were so glad you were proven wrong. Sometimes, love can be requited after all.

[lets-get-ready-to-ramble]

Yknow what’d be absolutely hilarious?

FCG falls in battle. The rest of the party tries to revive him, but he’s just a robot, there’s no soul to beg back into his body. He’s just a broken hunk of metal now, and no one is skilled enough to repair him. The cast is in tears, Sam leaves the table, everyone thinks it’s Molly all over again and it’s just time to roll another character.

Matt: and as you’re all huddled around Fresh Cut Grass’ still, warped form, reeling from the realization you can’t bring him back, you look up. Down the street, you see a tall, middle aged attractive human man, with gleaming blonde hair. And behind him, some sort of metal golem.

Sam, coming back to the table: Why hello there! Doty, it looks like we’ve stumbled upon a band of adventurers, much like myself! Taryon Darrington’s the name, but I’m sure you all recognize me from my book! Oh, I say, your automaton there looks in quite bad shape, mind if I have a look at it?

[redrobin-detective]

while you were sleeping

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Grandpa Max said in a gravelly, rough voice he only used when he was barely holding onto his anger. Gwen held her crossed arms tightly, trying to seem stern when she really felt scared. “You are going to relinquish your control over my Grandson and you are going to do it now or else-”

“Or else what, Grandpa?” Ben asked with a blank expression. Or at least, the thing wearing Ben’s face and body did. It hadn’t quite mastered fine motor control yet so seeing her cousin’s usually animated face so slack, his posture so awkward like a puppet on a string... it was unnerving. 

“Or I’m going to remove you from his person and get him back myself,” Grandpa growled. He slammed his hands on the railings of the stretcher Ben was sitting on and leaned close to his face. “And don’t call me Grandpa, you are not my boy, you are not even real. You are a hunk of metal and machinery and I don’t care if you are the most powerful device in the universe, Omnitrix, I will tear you apart piece by piece to rescue my family.”

The Omnitrix tilted Ben’s head awkwardly, it’s too bright green eyes staring at Grandpa Max with a fury Gwen rarely saw from her cousin. 

“You will never separate us. We will not allow it,” the Omnitrix hissed, clawing Ben’s right hand protectively over the alien watch. It’s usual green interface was blank having spread itself through Ben’s entire body. Three days they had just assumed Ben was tired from the battle in the Atraxi Nebula. Three days that Ben had been acting weird and not right while the Omnitrix possessed him. Three days of brushing it off until Rook had noticed the changes to the watch and alerted them that something was very, very wrong. “And you’re one to talk about saving us,” the Omnitrix spat out. “All you do is make demands of us, send us far and wide to fix other people’s problems and never helping our own.”

“Cut it out with this we and us. Ben is a person and you’re just a machine,” Grandpa sighed with frustration, rubbing at his eyes. 

“There is no Ben or Omnitrix, there is only us,” the Omnitrix stated as if it were obvious. “We have long since merged. Ben and I are one in the same which is how we know how damaged we are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Grandpa sneered.

“It means,” the Omnitrix continued with lidded, angry eyes, “that Ben doesn’t want to come out. His mental state collapsed in battle leaving our physical form in danger. We had to take control to get us to safety. Ben is safe and cared for right where he is and he will return when he is ready and not a moment before.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Grandpa Max screamed, finally losing his cool. Gwen flinched and she noticed the Omnitrix slid its eyes over towards her before flickering back to Grandpa. “According to Azmuth, you’re not supposed to be sentient, you’re not supposed to possess your host! Why am I supposed to believe you that you’re not holding Ben hostage?”

“Because we have been there for every injury, every bout of self-doubt and loneliness, every tear shed in grief and misery,” the Omnitrix whispered with venom dripping from every word. It’s eyes glowed so brightly it cast dark, ominous shadows on Ben’s face. “While you and everyone else looked the other way and pretended it was fine to thrust the entire universe on a child’s shoulders. The only one we have been able to rely on for years is ourselves and it wasn’t enough.” 

“I-,” Grandpa Max started to defend before deflating a bit. He looked over at her, unsure of what to say. Gwen gave him a curt shoulder shrug; she hadn’t exactly been overly attentive to Ben’s mental health the last few years herself. With the way he acted, it was easy to assume he was handling things alright but the signs were there now that she was looking. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad that the Omnitrix had to possess him and point Ben’s struggles out. “It’s not like that, Ben would’ve told us if it was too much.”

“Which is why his psyche is in fractured pieces,” the Omnitrix said with an eye roll. It was just how Ben did it, for all that the actions were jilted and ungainly, it had Ben’s mannerisms down exactly. “We left the Master in your care for years and this is how we ended up.”

The Omnitrix leaned forward, it’s elbows balanced on Ben’s knees and it’s fingers laced together under Ben’s chin. It stared at them judgement in it’s stolen eyes. “So here is what is going to happen, Grandpa and Cousin. We are going to take care of Benjamin, as we have done from the moment of our joining. We will keep our body healthy and safe from harm, we will patrol and go on missions to keep our home and the universe intact. We will also work to undo the damage you have done to Ben and when he is healed and ready to resume control, then we will retreat and let Ben make the decisions.”

“You can’t do that,” Grandpa said with a dry rasp. 

“We can,” the Omnitrix countered steadily. “You will have to kill us to separate us and we will kill you before we let any harm come to Ben. Do you understand?”

“You say we’ve hurt Ben,” Gwen said softly, not liking the Omnitrix’s unfocused, uncoordinated gaze on her. “We probably have just like he has done the same to us. We’re human, just because you love someone doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes.” It frowned in thought. “But you don’t heal by locking yourself up and not addressing the problem. If Ben, if he’s hurting, then he needs to be out here where we can fix it. I know you love him and want to protect him but this isn’t the answer.”

For the first time since the conversation began, the harsh look softened on Ben’s face. It almost looked human this way. If the Omnitrix and Ben really were one being by this point, then it wouldn’t give into anger for long. It just wasn’t in their nature. 

“You are right in a way, Gwen,” the Omnitrix said with a slight nod, sitting up from it’s aggressive slouch. “It’s not a surprise, you’re right most of the time,” the Omnitrix said with a little quirk of the lips that was very Ben. The mirthful expression tightened into one of frustration. “But we still need time. Ben is fragile right now, he needs to rest, to recover. When he, when we, are ready then we will listen.”

“Okay,” Gwen nodded, reaching out and grabbing Grandpa’s hand tightly before he could fight anymore. “Okay, well we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Right, thanks,” the Omnitrix looked away and picked at Ben’s ripped up jeans. Did the device share Ben’s ADHD? Was it just copying Ben’s nervous habits to trick them or were the two of them so blended together it wasn’t one or the other but simply different parts of a single whole? She couldn’t help but wonder if Ben would’ve been this same person if the Omnitrix had never bonded with him. 

“Well, it’s late and we’re tired. We’re gonna play some video games then meet Rook for patrol tomorrow unless you plan to stop us from doing our job.” The Omnitrix said, it’s voice heavy with accusation as it glared at Grandpa. 

“You may go,” Grandpa said forcefully, unhappy with the situation but unable to stop it. “But this discussion isn’t over.”

“Of course not, I’m still waiting for your apology about your treatment of us,” the Omnitrix sniffed with a flippant wave as it hopped off the stretcher and walked out of the room where it would continue to act as Ben and live his life for who knows how long. But who was to say that he wasn’t Ben, some aspect of him that they never saw. Either way, dealing with it, dealing with them, just got a lot more complicated. 

[ohheyitsokay]

🎉Congratulations lovely! 🎊

The tattooed phrase trope is absolute gold in soulmate AU fics.

Am also a sucker for rivals to lovers ^^

Maybe a fluffy little piece between Poe and the reader with the Reader's phrase being "Well show me what you've got then, flyboy?"

hellooo welcome to the chaos (since you're new here!)

I'll do my best, I hope you enjoy!

warnings: I think this is just fluff, with vague mentions canon typical drama

>>

soulmate requests / follower celebration

<<

There was something about those hanger hallways, something that made it feel like you had to walk fast.

Maybe it was the clean sharp lines, and the regular announcements, and the smooth lines of droids on their merry way.

Maybe it was the urgency of saving the universe from pompous 'rulers' who thought they had any idea what was best.

Or, maybe you just liked to move quickly.

It was in your blood - not because you were born into it, but because you had shed blood, with sweat and tears to get to where you were. And because the universe had half dictated it that way.

"I hardly think it matters. Not that I dont think good pilots help, but I dont save lives," you retorted to the rebel beside you, her steps in pace with yours. "Not like you."

"Become a medic then," Jane rolled her eyes. Your mouth opened, words still forming on your tongue, before your friend stopped dead, hands on her hips. The hallway was forked, little labels indicating youd half pulled her in the wrong direction.

"Hush," she said. "I dont care what excuse you have this time. We both know you don't have a option." Eyebrows raised, and you sighed, dodging another hurried rebel as they almost tripped on a little mouse droid.

On your arm for years now were the words So, you're a pilot?

Long nights you'd spent arguing about fate with your friends - you loved flying, you really did, but-

"It's such a glory job," you always protested.

"Main characters are pilots," she would reply, her sturdy shoulders shrugging. Her agreement didnt make you feel better. If you were lucky, someone else would add, "But you're not like that."

Because you weren't. You were just... you.

"I just want to help people." And no one would argue because that was true, too.

It hadnt come upon awhile, fate, and short lived careers, and how infuriating it was when people held nations lives in their hands because they loved the attention. You lived with it, and kept your mouth shut. because General Organa needed all the help she could get.

And you couldn't deny that you loved it, and it was easier to bear the stress of reality when you didnt think too hard. But -

"Why is this coming up again?" A rhetorical question, delivered with a smirk, and responded to with a childish face.

Jane was pulling you down the opposite hallway, towards the bay, and your stomach twisted, despite the friendly teasing. He was there, you'd told her before, so she knew the reason you'd been antsy, looking for something to blame.

Poe Dameron.

A hotshot pilot, maybe the best in the galaxy. An infuriatingly handsome, ridiculously charismatic, obnoxiously smart, stupidly kind rebel who had nearly blown up your favorite x-wing.

You couldnt decide if he deserved an award or a good solid slap to his cheek. The favored option switched each day, but nothing would come from either - you had never actually talked to him, always too afraid of... what youd be opening yourself up to.

Becaus even from far away you saw him, late at night repairing that dumb x-wing with his bubbly little bb unit, talking to the little thing like he really was sorry. Because you saw him hugging a new recruit, talking to them for what must have been hours after their first mission. Because his smile, the same one that had captured the hearts of almost everyone around, was full of thoughtfulness and earnestness and confidance.

And if you didnt tell yourself that he was selfish, flying for all the wrong reasons, and that you were going to show him? If you didnt protest that your attention was solely in seeking pilot humility?

Then, Maker help you, you were in love with him.

"Shut up," you said sternly, as your friend grinned, and the two of you approached the ship you'd spent all morning checking and rechecking. Her response blew away, drowned under the noise of chatter and intercom announcements and the chaos of the hanger.

A hard hug, a fistful of fabric, and shouts to stay safe, and both her and her teasing disappeared, and your turned the the hunk of metal above you.

"So, you're a pilot?" It was the words, but the voice that made you flinch. You'd heard him before, voice like dark caf in mornings, sweetened at the edges with golden honey.

No way he was talking to you.

"I mean, obviously you're a pilot." Why was he here? Wasn't his ship... oh. Next to yours.

"And a damn good one, I hear," he kept talking. Your words were sticking in your throat, alarm bells screaming to tell him off, to spit out your righteous lecture or tell him to mind his own business or something. You unintentionally ignored him, but he just... kept talking, content to let you work opposite of him.

"I... I've seen you around." For the first time, your gaze snapped into his, wondering at the nervousness of his tone. Regretting it instantly, you turned away. His eyes were like his voice, dark and warm and bad for you. Bad, bad, bad.

"You talk about how we do this for others."

Hand on the top rung of your ladder, you paused, this time looking at him deliberately. He really wanted to have this conversation? And... Maker it felt like you'd hit an asteroid. All those walls, sharp and sturdy like tempered metal, crumbling around you.

He shouldve looked smaller, hanging from his own ladder like he didn't have anywhere to be, but he didnt. Of course he didn't.

"I agree," he said, awkwardness replaced with a resolute phrase. Almost a promise.

And you grinned.

"Well," you held his gaze as he pulled himself up another rung, to be even with you. "Show me what you've got then, flyboy."

And he grinned back.

He disappeared from view for a moment as you pulled yourself into the cockpit, and your mind, which had gone blissfully silent, abruptly began to scream.

Something - something just happened - but it was time to go, and you had a mission, and the coms were switching on, and -

Looking over you saw him, his beautiful eyes as wide as yours felt.

And then you got the all-clear for take-off.

-

He had searched for you the moment you landed. You knew he did.

But you had landed a row away from where he did and hunkered down in the cockpit and tried to breathe and process the mission - a resounding success - and the terrifying thought that you had maybe just found your soulmate. And been one slightly-less-perfect maneuver away from losing him again.

He - he probably got swept away int he rush of celebrating crowds like he always did. Not that you noticed.

The phrase, on your arm, it was... it was common, right? Anyone could say it.

The whole mission you'd shoved it out of your mind, only focused on getting everyone out of there alive, and now that it was over...

You didnt know what to do. The hanger was quiet, void of cheering crowds and pilots alike, and you climbed out, hitting the ground with a thud.

Poe was waiting for you, looking almost shy as he buried his hands in his pockets. Sleeves rolled up, you saw words youd never noticed before... words you'd felt in your mouth mere hours ago.

"How'd I do?" He asked, his smile small, dark eyebrows bending in.

Like before, the chaos of your thoughts stilled, storm waves settling to a gentle tide. You walked towards him, wondering at the feeling.

"Not too bad," you said, trying your hand at a matching smile. It came easy, easier than you were prepared for.

"Yeah?" Was he always so tall?

"Didnt get anyone killed."

"Good point," his voice sounded rough, and... he was close.

"I think," Poe wet his lips, and you could almost feel it, he was so close. "I think my soulmate prefers it that way." He was right.

Hand on that broad chest, flight suit streaked with who knows what, you kissed him.

He kissed you.

Warm and sweet.

And slow.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @pbeatriz @saradika @zinzinina

[willadisastercry]

Lance ignores his asthma and Coran is not willing to be an accomplice pt. 2

It’s a race against the clock as Lance’s lungs worsen and his team scrambles to come up with a remedy before it’s too late. And though this whole mess certainly could’ve been avoided had he been upfront about his situation to begin with, his team will have to save the scolding for when Lance can focus on something other than the pain of trying to force air into his rapidly constricting airways. Altean technology works fast, but what if fast isn’t fast enough?

Part 1 / Part 2

“D’you check these yet?” Hunk asked as he threw open the topmost drawer of the in-wall storage space in Lance’s cabin.

“No, and it’s not in here either... I don’t understand wh—shit!” Keith cursed as he knocked over the trash can beside Lance’s nightstand and began scooping the contents back up.

“I don’t know where it could possibly be if—“

“—found it...” Keith interrupted as he held up the inhaler that had fallen out with the rest of the trash.

“Did you just get that from the... don’t you dare tell me it’s... oh, quiznak!”

“We’ve gotta tell Shiro...”

Keith was scared that Hunk would actually cry with the way his body tensed and his eyes glossed over.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Coran will know what to do,” Keith offered as he forwent cleaning up the rest of the mess he made for the sake of time.

“Bring that with you, maybe it can help him figure something out,” Hunk said after a second of staring blankly before he turned on his heel and joined Keith in a mad dash back to the training deck.

When they finally made it back they wished they’d never left.

Lance was collapsed onto his forearms with a very distraught Shiro rubbing circles on his back as he struggled to take in heaving breaths. He hadn’t even realized they’d returned until Shiro spoke up.

“Thank god you guys are back, just toss it—”

“It’s empty, this was his last inhaler...” Keith offered for the look of utter despair on Shiro’s face as Hunk sunk down next to them and placed one hand beside Shiro’s on his back and wrapped the other around Lance’s, receiving a weak squeeze in thanks for the small comfort.

“You’re gonna be fine dude... Coran and Allura are going to help, they can fix this. Just keep breathing as deep as you can,” he repeated over and over as Lance’s chest continued to hitch, the wheezes so loud and guttural now as his lungs worsened and his body grew more exhausted.

Understanding washed over Shiro all at once and then he was moving, maneuvering Lance’s struggling body despite the unwillingness of his lax limbs.

He was too exhausted to do much of anything aside from keep his chest rising and follow whatever direction his pliant frame was guided, letting himself be pushed back onto his heels as hands clasped his forearms and settled on his back to keep him from tipping over.

Every muscle in his abdomen was screaming. A similar tension burning up his neck and seeping into the sinews between his shoulder blades that made his head feel way too heavy to sit atop his shoulders. After not even thirty ticks of trying to summon the strength to keep it up he let it hang forward, the hands on him tightening their grips when he did.

He was extremely grateful they couldn’t see his face anymore because tears were beginning to form quicker than they could fall and he was sure he would have been fully sobbing at that point if he’d had any energy to spare.

“We’re meeting everyone at the infirmary then, you guys run ahead and let Coran know,” Shiro ordered as he motioned for Hunk to take hold of Lance while he turned away and crouched.

With some help he rose on shaking legs, Keith rushing to support his other side when his oxygen deprived legs protested the action.

“Woah, we’ve got you... thanks Keith...”

Their hands under his armpits kept him standing long enough to collapse onto Shiro’s back.

He literally only had the energy after that to throw his arms over Shiro’s shoulders and nestle his chin securely in the space between his own bicep and Shiro’s neck before his body sagged against his leader like dead weight.

“Go! I’m right behind you,” he shouted, his voice dark and fearful.

He could feel Lance straining against him as he followed after them, could hear the way his congested airways sputtered each time he tried to breathe.

Shiro made his way with steady urgency, not exactly jogging but not walking either, the anxiety bubbling in his stomach only forcing his legs to pump quicker as Lance got worse.

Keith and Hunk made it to the medbaby in record time though, both boys panting after sputtering to a halt once they made it through the whooshing doors.

The paladins knew today’s workout would be a doozy, but none of them expected to be doing this much running, especially under these circumstances.

Pidge was on the floor sorting through boxes of medicine and supplies carrying on an in-depth conversation regarding the compositional makeup of altean pharmaceuticals with Coran and Allura.

“Hey guys—wait why do you have...?”

“Empty...”

Keith answered a bit breathlessly as he waved the tube of navy and teal plastic in the air before gesturing to toss it to Coran who nodded and raised his hands in anticipation.

“...figured you’d want to take a look at the ingredients or whatever before Shiro got here with him.”

The air in the room seemed to thin as worry descended upon everyone.

“Christ, Lance!” Pidge exclaimed and sat back on her heels.

“Yeah, he’s not doing too hot,” Hunk said as he joined them, stealing the box of tubes and gadgets from Pidge to rifle through it himself.

Coran’s frown somehow deepened and Allura looked increasingly more distraught as he began filling them in.

“What level of dangerous is his breathing at?” Pidge asked hesitantly, like she didn’t want to hear the answer.

“He’s panicking and already really exhausted, so pretty dangerous. It’s one of the worst attacks I think he’s had in a while...”

Allura worried at her lip and kept glancing between the jumble of medical supplies and the medbay doors while she worked absently to ready a bed, the mice smoothing out wrinkles in the sheets and pulling down corners for her.

“Well, it was smart of number four to think of bringing this. I am synthesizing several medicines in likeness but none of them are exactly complete yet—”

“That’s—fuck, that’s not gonna be good enough...”

Everyone stilled at Hunk’s harsh interruption, his hands shaking in loose fists at his sides while he stared fixedly at the boxes of miscellaneous medical equipment in front of him.

“Lance can’t breathe, he can’t just wait for something to finish synthesizing, he might not be breathing at all when it’s done!”

Pidge scooted across the floor and laid her tiny hands on top of Hunk’s trembling ones.

“I think what Hunk means to say is that Lance’s condition is, erm, kinda dire and requires something that works as fast as possible.”

“Hmmm, I see. That is why the blue wilgam bark salve is strictly for prevention... this is indeed a rather tricky—ah, though I suppose I can try to extract and aerosolize whatever might remain of his earth remedy for a temporary solution,” Coran noted as he braved his stern concentration face and began separating the metal canister from the outer plastic to compare the words on it to the words on the bottles of medicine in front of him.

“And we can always place him in a pod for however long it takes to create an accurate remedy... he is truly in the best hands Hunk, do not fret so much,” Allura finished with a tight smile that was warm and assuring all the same.

It was strange how well she could do that, squash so much worry with such a simple act.

Coran hurried over to a station with lots of tools and canisters and turned on several machines that made various clicking and whirring noises.

Keith’s nose wrinkled at the new sounds but he couldn’t find it in him to feel angry about it. Not when they were going to help Lance when was in such bad shape.

“Okay, okay... those are good ideas,” Hunk agreed with a gasp, he hadn’t realized he’d been withholding air as he lost himself in his panic.

“Deep breaths, big guy,” Pidge urged, the weight of her hands bringing him back down from the brink of panic as his mind raced.

“Yeah, don’t forget that you’re the one who can actually breathe,” Keith chided gently with a hesitant hand on Hunk’s shoulder.

“Right... sorry. It’s just that these can get ugly really quick if—“

The doors whooshed open with an unsettling burst of air as Shiro emerged and crossed the room in a matter of seconds, a flurry of concerned exclamations filling the silence in between pauses of commotion that should have been hurried gasps for air.

But weren’t.

There wasn’t time to make sense of the lack of color in Lance’s face or the absence of movement in his chest as Shiro slid him off of his back, human hand trembling as he moved to support his middle and the base of his neck as he lowered his lifeless body onto the bed.

It was a grim enough sight to have even Allura’s mice crying out.

“Lance!”

“Holy fuck...”

Pidge was acting on autopilot as she pinched the altean breathing mask Coran had pulled out over the bridge of his nose and cupped it under his chin to secure the seal, Keith moving in eerie similarity to connect the tubing and flip the right switches on the machine when it became apparent that Hunk wouldn’t be spurred from his horror any time soon.

It wasn’t prepped because they hadn’t realized they’d be needing it so soon.

“No... nonononono—“

They aren’t sure how they heard it through the muddle of commotion and devastating silence but it stopped them all in their tracks, the faintest whisper of air passing his lips.

His very blue lips, go figure.

“He’s breathing, Hunk. Just barely, though...”

Lance’s eyes were open still and staring at nothing as his neck strained for air that was there now but still not accessible with how severely inflamed his lungs had become, the only sounds leaving his lips at all just rapid exhales where he couldn’t expel enough before his aching lungs screamed for more of what the mask was providing

“It doesn’t look like it’s helping...” Hunk all but sobbed as he gripped the base board of the bed so tightly his fingers blanched.

Lance’s eyes bobbed at that, struggling to locate who out of his friends was distressed through the tears welling at their brims.

They were puffy and bloodshot as silent tears spilled in a continuous stream, his eyebrows drawn together with pain and desperation.

“That’s because it’s not,” Shiro deadpanned, his hands working to soothe over Lance’s stuttering chest as his rasping breaths caught in his throat on their way out.

“Wh-how is it not working... it’s oxygen?!”

It was almost pitiful how helpless Keith looked as he stated the very blatant fact, his expression sharp and his tone prickly, like he didn’t know who or what to be mad at.

“His airways,” Pidge started weakly, her voice wavering, “they must be too tight for the air to get through...”

Shiro’s hand gripped Lance’s fiercely. It was ice cold.

The gravity of the situation dawned on his friends like a literal blow then, all eyes turning to Allura.

“Coran... he-he’s working on something, but...”

It wasn’t often that the paladins saw the princess hesitate. Her usual order of proceeding during a crisis was to do something brave or noble first and think about it later, but her impulse instinct was uncharacteristically absent as she stared at Lance’s greying face.

Her hands rose slowly, long fingers uncurling from where they’d been pressed tightly in her palms to reveal a subtle pink glow.

“Princess...”

“I know, Shiro... it’s just—I am scared it might cause him greater discomfort...”

“I don’t think we have time to worry about that, Allura,” Keith noted gravely from the foot of the bed where Lance’s eyes were half focused and darting between him and Hunk.

A status update from Coran made the tension in the room skyrocket further as he estimated another twenty or so dobashes before anything was viable.

It only took one more particularly worrisome sound of distress from Lance for Allura’s hands to descend on his chest with certainty, the pink furls leaving her fingers and settling on his body for not even a second before his back arched off the bed with a strangled gasp.

Allura grimaced as she called upon several energy reserves to ease the vice constricting Lance’s lungs as fast as she could.

A phantom tightness bloomed in her own chest as she visualized the pressure leaving his while she forced each passage back open, the channel she had opened between them by using her powers allowing her to feel the gridlock for herself.

She didn’t let up until Lance was sinking back into the pile of pillows and by then she was so lightheaded that her vision was spotting, but Keith was at her side and gripping her elbow securely before she could even stumble when the strength in her legs wavered.

“I am quite alright, just feeling a bit weak.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take a seat for a few anyway?”

Lance couldn’t really make sense of the conversations going on around him while he collected himself after being released from the pulls of Allura’s magic.

“It’ll pass, Keith.”

“Allura...”

Not that he was known for having stellar listening skills, but he was just usually able to follow along with the general flow of things even when otherwise preoccupied.

“Coran you said only eighteen minutes, right?”

The voices of his friends filtered back in slowly though, his skull throbbing still after the horrible pressure had lifted.

“Can you lift his head for a sec so I can secure the strap?”

He hadn’t been coherent of much of anything before, fixing what remained of his energy on the miserable stalemate in his chest.

“It’s only seventeen dobashes and forty three tics now...”

And then the twisted relief of Allura’s magic.

But after that his hearing seemed to flatline, zeroing in on a high pitched hiss that was either static or the oxygen flow of which droned on and dribbled into his present when the tension that had yanked every muscle in his body taught alleviated all at once.

It was so disorientating it almost nauseated him and brought a distinct rush of blood to his eardrums, the oxygen flooding his deprived bloodstream like a dam had broken and left him feeling utterly weightless.

Shiro was the first one to break through the barrier of cotton that muffled his brain.

“Easy, Lance,” he instructed when he didn’t start breathing normally right sway, too stunned by the sudden levity to remember how.

“Take it slow hermano, you’re okay now...”

Everything was still uncomfortably tight and restricted, but air was at least accessible even as his body struggled to acclimate to the change, his heaves greedy and crackling.

“I was able reduce the inflammation for now but there is a substantial amount of fluid that remains in his lungs.”

“Fluid? What like blood?”

“No, Keith, not blood. Phlegm.”

“Oh, gross.”

Lance let out an indignant huff at that and despite the restriction of the mask managed to return the look of disgust the mullet had given him.

“Why is that so bad if it’s just phlegm?”

“Because anything in your lungs besides air is bad, Keith. It’s your lungs!”

“Precisely, Pidge. And it will only keep irritating Lance’s but we cannot risk him progressing back to such a state before Coran has derived his medicine when my powers are not indefatigable.”

“Yep...” Lance winced.

In order to speak he had to battle against the congestion in his chest which made his already wrecked voice sound downright abrasive.

“Shhh, no talking!” Pidge hissed with a warning glare.

But when was Lance ever known to take good advice when it’s given?

“Think... I can feel th’fluid... s’not very—“

He didn’t have to elaborate any more than that to get his point across because the rapping of his own vocal cords against each other had him launching into a harsh fit of coughing that rocked his entire frame. The accumulated cloud of condensation in the mask never allowed to chance to dissipate fully as he hacked.

It sort of felt like he was drowning since he didn’t have the strength to get his arms underneath him while all of the crap that his stupid respiratory system produced to counteract the strain in his lungs only worked to suffocate him and his freshly reduced air passages.

“Shit someone help me get him up, it’ll be easier to breathe if he’s vertical...”

Hunk surged to grab the arm that was closest to him as Shiro slotted his own beneath Lance’s back and hefted him into what only partially passed as a sitting position. But the motion made his head spin and his stomach clench and then Hunk’s hands planted on either of his shaking shoulders to keep him from tilting over as Shiro slid behind him.

The others looked on with horror.

“You’re okay,” Shiro assured as he pulled Lance towards himself.

He was grateful for the solidity of Shiro’s chest, his hold firm enough that Lance didn’t have to work anymore to keep himself up as he slumped into it, but the tears started back up anyway when he continued to actively choke on what felt like nothing despite being upright.

But there wasn’t anything in his throat to actually choke on.

“Just gotta work through it...”

He was starting to get really tired of the exhaustion and malaise that came with being deprived of oxygen for an extended period of time.

“Paladins! Only fourteen—er, minutes remaining.”

“Hear that bud? You’re gonna be okay.”

He did hear but he’s shaking his head in the crook of Shiro’s arm where his head had lolled because he can’t wait that long. He can’t.

“Yeah, you’ll feel better real soon,” Hunk affirmed.

But Lance was verging on a hysteria that he couldn’t summon the strength to express when every muscle that can be strained in his body felt like it most definitely was. And with how acutely his ribcage ached he was also certain he’d displaced a couple of those false ribs made up of just cartilage too.

“Hey, no don’t get upset, you’re gonna be fine!”

He’s never been more exhausted in his life and he can’t communicate that he can’t wait that long because he hasn’t stopped coughing.

His eyes are burning from the amount of crying he’s done so he relies on touch alone when a hand cups his chin and turns it, deducing it must be Allura.

“Lance, can you hear me?”

A shakey jerk seems to be good enough for her.

“I know you aren’t the biggest fan of the healing pods, but I understand that you are in a great deal of distress still and I believe you have endured enough...”

“What are you—oh, yeah! We could totally just put him in stasis like you and Coran were for thousands of years and bring him out when the medicine is ready.”

“Yes, just as Pidge puts it. There is no need to extend the suffering of one of my paladins.”

Shiro set his jaw as he regarded Allura sternly, it didn’t matter what she believed if Lance didn’t agree and he knew how wary he was of returning to the pods after the harrowing experience that landed him in one for the first time.

“Is that something you want to do? It’s alright if you aren’t comf—“

“Please.”

His voice was small, hard even a rasp, but it didn’t need to be loud for Shiro to accept it as his answer.

“Okay...”

Lance checked out after that, allowing himself to save the energy it took to focus on what was happening around him.

So when he started registering Shiro’s voice in his ear he wasn’t exactly sure how both him and the respirator came to be at the foot of a cryochamber but he made a desperate noise at the realization.

“I know, bud. You’re almost there but we need to take the mask off.”

No one missed the fear that flashed across his face before it softened into resignation, or otherwise known as I don’t care, please put me in that stupid thing right now.

Shiro was still holding him and seemed to sense the urgency in it.

“I’m gonna stand up with you...”

It was so surprise when Lance’s knees hardly held any of his own weight before wobbling and giving out as Shiro stood with him still flush against his chest.

He regarded Hunk with a lazy roll through lidded eyes as he tipped his head forward and worked the strap off but held the mask in place.

Distantly aware of the burst of air from the pod opening and a renewed flurry of commotion around him, Lance tried to work with Shiro as he ushered him forward but his legs were too heavy and he couldn’t coordinate his movements well.

Someone else’s hands were on him, bending his knee so they could set one leg down in the pod and send the rest of his body with it. He thinks it might’ve been Keith.

The various sets of hands on him stay even after he’s securely in place, probably scared he would crumple if they did.

They were probably right.

“-nce. Hey, Lance? There you are, this is gonna suck but only for a second. I promise. Ready?”

You would’ve missed the brief hum from his somewhere deep in his sore chest if you weren’t practically inside the pod with him like Shiro seemed to be.

“Okay, now Hunk.”

The crackling heave that erupted from hims mouth was something a dying thing made, but he couldn’t hear himself or the horrible sound he made as consciousness began to swiftly melt away in stages.

First with the initial pressure everywhere after the removal of the mask.

And then pain because holy shit he couldn’t breathe.

But the cold creeped into his bones at light speed and the darkness wasn’t too far behind.