#Ive gotten really sweaty all the sudden

[stariel-and-stuff]

you seem to be a big fan of Flowey Undertale. There… aren’t any murderous time-traveling tendencies you have and aren’t telling me about that I should be worried by, are there?

:)»<>

… Noooo… Well… Yeah-No… Hehe…

[okkalo]

Can I request some headcanons? Heartwarming moments + bllk boys (nagi, sae, chigiri, and yukimiya) if that’s okay? Thank you!

hi anon :) i got kinda confused with heartwarming moments (i overthink everything.) so i hope i did this right isjjd anyways i hope u enjoy and thank u for the request 🫶

characters: nagi, sae, chigiri, yukimiya (THANK U FOR REQUESTING HIM BTW IVE BEEN DRY ON HIM LATELY)

warnings: chigiri’s reader has a big family, yukimiya has a suggested fem reader, nagi and yukimiya are both aged up

nagi

- lol once in a lifetime experience fr

- nagi loves you so so much but dating nagi is basically a routine

- a routine that involves a lot of cuddles

- so you don’t really have a chance to experience more

- especially since nagi isn’t someone who expresses how head-over-heels he is for you

- so it’s fair to say you were surprised when reo sent you a video of drunk nagi boasting about how good of a spouse you were with the vocabulary of a 1st grader

- it surprised you even more once he suddenly got upset in the middle of his sentence and started pouting, saying he missed you all of a sudden

- you could only giggle at nagi’s vulnerable yet cute state, reading the text from reo that stated they were on their way to drop nagi off

- once you heard the doorbell ring you quickly answer, opening the door to see your pouty nagi slumped over reo’s back

- once nagi looked up to see you, however, he hurriedly and messily got off of his friend’s back to stumble towards you

- expecting a hug? yeah, no he doesn’t do that. at least not yet

- instead he stops directly in front of you just to mumble a “hi.” to add to it, the way he spoke sounded as if you had taken his breath

- you smiled at his actions, hands going up to cup his cheeks as you greeted him back

- he had INSTANTLY melted into your arm, half his weight now a part of yours

- reo probably asked if you needed help getting him inside too once he heard you huff at the weight change

- i can imagine reo asking that while trying to pull nagi off of you and nagi whining once again

- so even if you needed the extra help, there was no way nagi would let it happen

- you were sure to thank reo for bringing the giant baby back to you before you struggled to even get to the couch

- you try to tell nagi to loosen his grip on you some? he’ll whine. good luck.

- but you did have to admit it was nice to be on nagi’s mind, even if it was a bit overbearing

sae

- another somewhat rare one

- you had been feeling under the weather recently

- stress had been getting to you recently, your immune system weakening

- and it certainly didn’t help that your allergies were worse than ever

- short story shorter, you got sick

- and sae hadn’t known until he had finally gotten a break from football and decided to visit you

- he actually makes you feel worse at first

- he walks in, face scrunched in disgust at your form before he asks “what happened to you?”

- thanks sae.

- he immediately felt bad once he found out you were sick

- how did he show it? 😯 with this face.

- no other way

- he does, however, go to try to comfort you

- he’s moving hair out of your face and getting a cold rag for your sweaty forehead

- he tries to coax you to sleep first, laying beside you as his hand rubs at your stomach lightly

- you eventually do fall asleep only to wake up with a mild headache and unbelievably sore throat, and sadly with no sae in sight

- so, ignoring the tiredness of your body you got up to trudge into the kitchen to get a glass of water with some pills to follow

- what you didn’t expect to see was sae struggling to use a can opener on a can of soup

- it didn’t take long for him to notice your presence, eyes catching on your exhausted form as his brows furrowed

- “what the hell are you doing here?”

- if you weren’t in a miserable state you would’ve burst out laughing because the sight was so hard to believe

- sae, who struggled with anything not football related, trying to crack open a can of soup for you in this dumb apron you had sitting around the house as a joke

- once he figured out you needed some sort of medicine he immediately sighed, mostly to himself for not thinking of that, before demanding you go back to the room

- he followed you back after a few minutes with a bowl of soup, glass of water, and something to ease the pain you were in

- don’t bring up how the soup was cold at the bottom.

- he also ended up getting sick from staying to close to you during that time

- what a guy

chigiri

- he had been meeting your family for the first time.

- and much to your surprise, he hadn’t seemed nervous whatsoever

- even if it included more than your parents, going as far as including your aunts and grandparents

- ig he just knows no one can really hate him

- anyways they all loved him, what did you expect?

- he did so good, even agreeing to help around the kitchen while you got dragged away from him by your younger cousins

- yeah, he was that good to where he was confident in being involved in some girl talk with your mom, grandma, and one of your aunts

- okay enough of my dumb narrating

- you both had started getting bombarded with questions about the relationship

- and good god if you had heard what he had said you would count just that as a heartwarming moment

- he spoke about you with so so much love, so much so that the girls listening had started getting jealous

- meanwhile you were getting questioned by your cousins and your other aunt

- and the questions were nothing special nor different than the ones you had gotten from your friends

- but for some reason they made you realize how in love you were with him

- maybe that and the small peeks you guys would take a each other from the two different rooms

- and the occasional moments where both of your eyes met, both holding so much love in them as you both pause in your sentence just to admire the other

- and the way your family constantly asked when the marriage was

- and your mother pulling you aside to confirm you had definitely found the one

- you had knew you wanted to marry him by the end of that night

yukimiya

- let’s be real. every moment in your relationship is a heartwarming moment

- so i’m going to go a little extra for this one and write for dad yukki

- HE HAS TWO LITTLE GIRLS AND LOVES THEM WITH HIS HEART.

- and mother’s day was coming up

- so he obviously had to do something with them

- so he decided to make a card with them

- but he had to do it secretly so you put up with constant giggles and whispers from your daughters

- yukimiya was so good at hiding it though so you never suspected a thing, even with the small hints from the two girls

- you only found out because you had gotten home earlier then intended

- you heard the shared squeals of your daughters from the kitchen, so you followed to sound

- only to see the girls surrounding a picture you couldn’t quite see and yukimiya smiling proudly at their reactions

- you decided to stay quiet to continue listening in on the conversation

- turns out they were gasping at the years you and yukimiya had been together while staring at an old picture of the two fo you

- the picture happened to have you in a dress with yukimiya in a suit

- the two girls started whispering about how underdressed yukki was LOL

- “wow daddy, a prince would wear more than that y’know..”

- he could only awkwardly chuckle while having no choice but to agree

- you let out a small chuckle at his awkward agreement, revealing your position

- your daughters immediately tried to hide the big card, letting out a squeal while yukimiya just looked at you with a soft smile

- he told the girls to go up and hide the card in one of their rooms (he immediately regretted it once he heard them start fighting over who would be housing the card)

- meanwhile he goes over to encase you in his arms, giving a soft peck to your lips

- “you really did outshine me in that picture, princess.”

- ONT HE FLORR GOODBYE

unedited thanks for reading!

[fecesmachine]

Antipathy Pt 1.

Hai hello hai

sorry if this is too short my first time writing this type of stuff, more coming soon this is just to establish and flesh out y/n

Wednesday Addams x Male reader

TW: Foul language? Slight Angst...

Antipathy: A deep-seated feeling of dislike; aversion.

Ruben had always been on the fence about sending you here, and you weren't very eager to go here either, you were fine at regular school… yeah most people would baby you like you had retardism or something. always speaking to you like you were some fragile being, like you could burst into tears if they had said something wrong or in the wrong tone of voice

It made you cringe, and it made you angry.

But other than that you were fine. News about what your mother did spread quickly throughout your town, everyone was shocked when they heard about it, and everyone had felt pity towards You…

it sucked. You hated it… You hated the attention, You hated the over display of pity, you hated the pity...

You were genuinely surprised when you heard the news. You had just got back to your house, sweaty from riding your bike around your town and from the massive heat wave it was getting. you had just put your bike away in your garage.

exhausted and with a mighty thirst you walk to the kitchen for a glass of water after you fill the cup up you turn around to head to your room when you suddenly see Ruben sitting down near the counter. "We need to talk y/n" you had gotten a bit worried, Ruben had always had positive tone in his voice but this time he had sounded serious. "okay… what's up" Ruben paused for a minute and then sighed...

“I'm sending you to nevermore y/n…"

you paused for a second "What? wait, wait, wait, why? I'm fine here". You said back.

"y/n…" Ruben said while looking at you with pursed lips, "Really I am!" you said while putting on a fake, awkward smile…

"Y/n I know you… cmon, itll be good for you, you can finally meet some friends and people who you relate to…” you look at him with a confused expression as he was finishing his sentence.

"Somewhere where you can finally fit in…" Ruben said.

"Wait... Is that all your doing this for? to help me "fit in" somewhere? Im perfectly fine with not "fitting in" anywhere, Ruben" You chuckled a bit... at the stupidity of Rubens reasoning.

"Well no, not just to fit in y/n... im worried man... about your abilities… they can hurt people if your not careful, I was thinking Nevermore can help you control them and your emotions…" Ruben said this all a bit hesitantly.

Your not a cocky person, your humble and dont make a big deal out of your achievements and whatnot... but Ruben knows one thing you do take alot of pride in... Your abilities, youve always seen yourself as a master at controlling them, your mom always told you to be proud of them, so proud you are... and you take controlling them very seriously.

"oh my god..." you said a bit frustrated...

"what so now you dont trust me? you think ill hurt somebody? ive told you 800 goddamn times I can control them Ruben" You were actually starting to get upset.

Your talents and skills over your abilities are being questioned and you were seriously getting offended.

"I know youve been dealing with bullies… im just worried they would cross a certain line and you would snap" Ruben said with a calm voice.

There was a sudden, awkward silence that filled the room.

"Who told you?" You said in a sudden shift in tone...

Ruben stayed silent and just looked at you, you started to understand now…

"oh, oh you son of a bitch"

Ruben was about to say something when you cut him off.

"Youve been watching me havent you?" You never liked Ruben stalking you.

he would only do it to make sure you were safe but it felt degrading to you... Having to be watched at all times, like you were some toddler... you had always enjoyed his company (to an extent) but when you just wanted to be alone, it was annoying…

After some time of you constantly spotting and pointing him out...you asked him to stop and he made a promise that he would…

It was strange... how could you have not noticed him? You always do, why haven’t you noticed him now?

"for how long, Ruben?" you said with an angry, sharp tone... you were just so angry that you cant have a few moments of peace without being chaperoned by someone.

"Just recently, for some reason I just got so worried about you y/n..." his still surprisingly calm and soothing voice actually calmed you down for a second...then made you angrier and hate his voice even more now. How hes able to effortessly mangle, mix and switch your feelings around, and just with his voice... that annoying, cheerful, familiar voice... you wanted to get away from him, you didnt want to hear Rubens voice... you didnt want to see him.

"You made a promise Ruben..." You exclaimed

"I know, I know, I just wanted to keep you safe" Ruben said frustrated

Silence filled the room…

you suddenly shifted your entire body and stormed off to your room without saying another word…

You were gonna go to nevermore... If it meant getting away from Ruben, you were sick and tired of him, you gave him so many chances…

For the first time in a very long time.

you truly wanted to stay away from Ruben…

[cherrycocaineee]

19. Sam Winchester - Hospital Visit

It was extra busy today at the hospital, there were three patients in need of major surgeries along with a line of people either waiting at the clinic or waiting for their minor surgeries to take place. I had been running around all morning wherever I was needed, and since I was the lead surgeon that was pretty much everywhere. Every time I got the chance, I glanced up at the ticking clock that was mute amongst all the loud chatting and alarms going off. I needed to hang on til three, and then another head surgeon would be here to help. I wiped the forming beads of sweat off of my forehead as I headed to the bathroom, wanting to escape from all the chaos that was hitting. Of course I loved being a doctor but I wasn’t made for such large groupings like this. It sent anxiety through my body causing me to sweat. So I just needed a small break to calm my nerves.

   Pressing my back against the cool wall felt almost painful against my hot, sweaty skin. I was just praying silently that I was wearing my doctor’s coat over a turtleneck sweater, stopping most of the chilling pain. Finally catching my breath after fifteen minutes, I pushed myself off of the wall, the cold no longer bothering me, and headed back into the jungle that awaited outside. Not much time passed before my Nurse, Lacy, ran up to me.

  “Doctor,” she said, her voice frantic and filled with worry, “come quick, there’s two new patients in need of medical treatment.”

   Nodding curtly, I followed after her quickly to wherever the patients were. There weren’t many rooms open, so when we did eventually find them, they were in the last two rooms. I went inside the first room, the room that was closer to us, and peered inside at the man lying on the hospital bed. My eyes widened at the sight of John Winchester, an old family friend from way back then. He was covered in slash marks, fresh blood that still needed to be cleaned off of his unconscious body. He was also covered in sweat, glass, and dirt.

   Lacy looked up at me.

 “Bring me a rag,” I muttered, “and some warm, soapy water.” 

  Nodding, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. I took another glance at John Winchester then headed out of the room, silently praying that the other person in the second room wasn’t one of his sons.

  But I wasn’t lucky. Lying in the next hospital bed was his older son, Dean. I frowned, my forehead creasing slightly. Like his father, Dean was covered in blood, sweat, glass, and dirt. He would need to be cleaned up as well.

  “Doctor.”

  Looking up, I spotted my nurse standing at the door with the bucket of water and a rag hanging over it.

  “Thank you. Please, get another one for this patient.”

 “Of course.”

I took the bowl from Lacy and headed back into the room where John was waiting. Sitting beside his bed was Sam, also covered in blood but not as much as his dad and brother. His eyes met mine, widening as he saw my face.

  “Noel?” He questioned, his voice soft and surprised.

  “Hey Sam,” I replied, placing the bowl down.

  His eyes shifted to the ground. The last time I saw the Winchester’s was when I was twelve years old. I was a year younger than Sam. Out of the two Winchester boys, Sam and I had become close. I knew all about their hunting and everything they did.

  “You gonna tell me what happened?” I asked, grabbing the cloth and beginning to clean John up.

  The blood wiped away easily, revealing his tanned up, scarred skin.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a great idea,” he admitted.

 “Maybe not, but I still think you should tell me.”

  He was quiet for a moment, contemplating inside his head whether telling me would put me in danger. It probably would but I could handle myself. Finally, he told me what happened. They had gotten into a fight with a demon, one who called herself Meg, and these shadow things came out of nowhere attacking them. They were practically defenseless, their only saving grace was light. That’s how they were able to escape, along with throwing Meg out a tall window. By the time he finished telling me what happened, I had finished cleaning his dad up.

   Placing the cloth inside the now bloody water, I faced Sam.

  “Is she dead?” I inquired.

  “We think so,” he huffed, his hair shifting with the breeze escaping his lips, “but we’ve never dealt with a demon before so we’re unsure.”

  Nodding quietly, I started stitching up the large gashes displayed on John’s body. Lacy was right, he did need quick medical attention but not so much that he needed to be placed in the operating room. Not while there were people who needed surgeries on their brains waiting, or even their stomach. This was an easy fix.

  I could feel Sam’s eyes watching me while I sutured up his dad. Clipping the final set of stitches, I got rid of all the leftovers, then washed my hands.

  “I’m going to Dean’s room,” I muttered, “he needs more care than your father, so I’ll need more time to deal with him. Wait here.”

   Sam didn’t argue, he just nodded his head.

Taking care of Dean’s injuries were much harder than I had realized. He was losing lots of blood, and no matter how much of it I tried to wipe away, there would always be another rush of it pouring from the wound. So I had to deal with the large, several gashes that covered his body. Fixing him up took me almost three hours. When I was finished with him, it didn’t seem to matter, he was in a coma from the amount of blood he lost. I wasn’t sure he was going to make it and that was going to be hard to tell Sam and John.

   Lacy informed me that John Winchester was now awake, so now I was heading to his room to give them the bad news. Some doctors would call it semi-bad news but that didn’t really make any sense to me considering. I walked into John’s room, seeing him speaking to Sam, neither of them looking happy about whatever was being discussed. Sam was first to spot me.

  “Dad,” he said.

  John turned to face me, and at first I wasn’t sure he’d recognize me but when his eyes widened, I knew he did.

  “Noel,” he said, “it’s been a long time.”

  “It sure has,” I replied, smiling, “it seems you guys got yourself into a pickle.”

 “Seems that way.”

 I walked completely inside the room, my hands folded together.

  “How’s Dean doing?” Sam inquired.

  My heart felt like it was hammering against my chest but I tried to remain professional.

  “I’ve stitched him up, and cleaned up his body. However, he’s lost a lot of blood and is now in a coma,” I informed, sadness lurking in my voice, “right now, it isn’t looking so good. If he doesn’t pull through soon, then I would start preparing for the worst.”

  “Noel,” Sam said standing up, “he has to come back.”

  “There isn’t anymore that I can do, Sam. Had he’d been brought in earlier, maybe, but he’s lost way too much blood. We’re replacing it, he’s getting round the clock treatment and blood is being added to his body through an IV, but that’s all we’re able to do.”

   He looked away from me, his eyes noticeably filling with tears, then grabbed his jacket and walked out of the room. A soft breeze brushing against me as he passed me. John didn’t say anything to Sam as he left. I sighed and walked over to John, removing a small flashlight from my pocket.

  “Let me have a look at your pupils,” I muttered, “how are you feeling?”

 The bright light danced across his now dilated pupils.

  “Much better,” he replied.

It was quiet for a moment before John spoke again, asking about Dean.

  “He was in really bad shape, huh?” He asked.

  “Yes,” I muttered, removing the light from his eyes, “I wish there could be more done but right now, all we can do is wait and see.”

  John’s eyes looked away from me, staring down at his covered legs. I could tell he was feeling bad about what he did to Sam and Dean, specifically Dean since he was in a coma now. I stuffed the flashlight into my doctor coat, taking another look at the oldest Winchester. All three of these boys were tough as nails but everything seemed to be shattering right before their very own eyes.

  “I know this is hard, Mr. Winchester,” I replied, “but I promise you, I’ll do what I can to help Dean get better. For now, it’s best if you pray for his healing.”

  He didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod. Something seemed to be brewing around in his head, so I left after giving his shoulder a small squeeze. After leaving John’s room, I went to go look for Sam, taking a final look at Dean in his room. A small pang in my chest rippled through me before I headed off to find the youngest Winchester.

I found him sitting outside on the hospital steps. The breeze was starting to pick up, ruffling Sam’s hair along with my own. I walked over to him, my white shoes slapping quietly against the concrete. Sitting down next to Sam, I watched him look over at me. I folded my arms around my stomach and looked away, watching the hundreds of people walking around. Either lost in their own world or talking with someone who was with them. I didn’t want to say anything that would anger him or cause him to get up and leave.

  “It’s all my fault,” Sam whispered.

 My head snapped towards him, shocked completely at his sudden admission to guilt.

  “How so?” I inquired.

 “If I hadn’t gotten mad at Dean, if I hadn’t ran into Meg, then we would have never been tricked into this situation.”

  I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. My long, jet black hair waved in the wind.

 “Sam, you couldn’t possibly know that Meg was a demon. Like you said before, you guys have never dealt with one before so how are you supposed to know the difference between one of them and a girl. I mean look around you.”

  Our eyes scanned the area around us, watching the people who caught our eyes do what was normal: eating ice cream, talking, laughing, walking, etc.

  “Anyone here could be a demon but how could we know?”

  A soft sigh escaped from his lips.

  “All I’m saying is, there’s no need for you to worry too much. Dean is a fighter, I’m sure he’ll pull through. However, if he isn’t, then you can’t walk around blaming yourself. It’s not what your dad would want and it’s definitely not what Dean would want.”

   I touched his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Sam smiled back before nodding.

 “You’re right,” he said.

 “Of course I am. I’ve never been wrong.”

 A laugh left his mouth, colliding with the wind that was picking up more and more. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. Soon Sam and I were discussing how life had been after we departed so long ago. I learned that Sam had previously gotten out of the whole family business, hunting things to attend college at Stanford to become a lawyer. He had only joined back up with his family because his girlfriend, Jessica, was killed by the same demon that killed his mom. Yellow eyes. It had its ups and down, constantly worrying about one another and the consistent fighting back and forth. Dean was ultimately too childish and took any opportunity to pull a silly prank on Sam. But, according to him, it wasn’t all too bad since he missed his brother a lot. And now that he and his dad were together again, he remembered that he loved him too while disagreeing with him like he had when he was younger.

   Once he was finished catching me up on how his life had been going, I told him about mine. How my mother passed away a year after they had left, inspiring me to go to medical school. I had also been engaged for a little while before finding out that my fiancé was cheating on me behind my back. The rest of my life wasn’t much to gossip about, considering most of it was just me going to school and being cheating on.

   “Despite everything though,” I replied, “I enjoy what I do and hope that I’m making a big difference every single day.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling my pager buzz beside my hip. Pulling it from beside me, I saw that Lacy was paging me, letting me know that another lead surgeon had arrived and that I could go for lunch. Standing up, I held out my hand to Sam.

“Wanna get some coffee with me?” I inquired, “It’ll help clear your thoughts. Maybe you can figure out a way to help Dean behind bringing him to the doctor.”

 I hoped that he caught on to what I had to say. By the smile that appeared on his face, I knew that he did. Taking a hold of my hand, I pulled him to his feet and headed across the street to the small coffee shop where I normally went when I was able to have a small break. On the way over, the two of us talked with one another and laughed at stories about each other's life. It was nice to reconnect with a friend from so long ago. Sam and I had always been close to one another when we were young. And on the way to the coffee shop, I hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time I saw Sam. And hopefully under much better circumstances than the one that brought us together today.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

i think i need a doctor

Prompt: emergency room

Whumpee: Nick Burkhardt 

Fandom: Grimm

heyo!! i am gonna be honest here i did kinda just pull this fic outta my ass so there is a chance its not very good but idk. anyway it is set early in season 2 i guess, juliette doesn’t remember nick you know how it is. maybe you will enjoy?

Nick was not really the kind of person that went to the emergency room. Usually, if he was in a situation where one might have gone to the emergency room, he either ignored or dealt with whatever it was as best as he could, or he eventually collapsed and ended up in the hospital. But today, he’d actually done the responsible thing. He’d taken himself to the emergency room.

He had been out having breakfast at his favorite cafe before work. It had been a pleasant morning, until the waiter had brought him a fresh cup of coffee to take with him to work. Nick had taken a sip, noted with some dismay that the coffee was bitter, paid for his meal, and headed out to his car.

He’d had a little more coffee on the way out, deciding he could put up with the bitterness in exchange for caffeine. He slid into his car and started the engine, taking a final sip of his coffee before he pulled out of the parking lot.

Not five minutes into his drive, Nick was considering whether he should pull over or drive himself to the ER. Something was wrong. His heart was beating far too fast, he was sweaty, dizzy, nauseous...he could barely think straight, and it took all of his willpower just to focus on the road. 

I need help, he knew. That was as much thinking as his mind would allow him to do. He swallowed harshly, feeling his pulse pounding in his chest. His hands were starting to shake where they held the wheel in an iron grip. His vision went blurry for a second, and he nearly ran off the road, jerking the car back into its lane at the last second. Sweat dripped into his eyes, but they were already blurring so badly it made no difference. Emergency room, he decided, and then he thought it, over and over, so he wouldn’t forget. Emergency room.

Fortunately, Nick was familiar enough with the location of the emergency room to drive there in his current state without getting lost, though he had definitely broken several traffic laws (not the least of which was, don’t drive if you can’t even think straight). 

By the time he screeched to a stop in the ER parking lot, Nick was almost completely out of it. He could still barely see, his heart was still racing, and the tremors in his hands had begun to spread through the rest of his body. He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing before he’d gotten in the car. He couldn’t even remember driving here. Nothing was making sense, but he knew he was at the emergency room, and he knew he needed to get inside.

Slowly, he climbed out of the car, collapsing against the door the second he’d shut it. His legs, which he hadn’t paid much attention to while driving, were shaking and curiously numb at the same time, and he could barely stand upright. Not to mention the sudden spike in dizziness and nausea that standing up had created. 

Still, under all of this, Nick tried his hardest to focus. He was almost there. One quick walk and somebody would be able to help him. He just had to get inside.

He pushed unsteadily off of the car, nearly falling forwards onto his face but managing to regain his balance. He took a small, unsteady step as the blurry world tilted around him. And then he took another, and another, stumbling along slowly but surely. 

After an eternity of walking, Nick found himself in the lobby of the emergency room, surrounded by a dizzying array of noises and sights which combined unpleasantly with the fogginess of his mind and made him forget entirely where he was and why he was there. 

Then, there was a hand on his shoulder, which felt strangely disconnected from the rest of his body, and then someone was asking him if he was okay, and he experienced a very brief flash of remembrance - he was in the emergency room, and he was there because he felt terrible. “I think I need a doctor,” he mumbled, and then his legs finally gave way beneath him.

For a while after that, everything was a blur. Voices shouted urgently above him, millions of miles away. Things were touching him, and then he thought he might have been moving, and everything felt so very bad but at the same time he was far too out of it to care. Something very cold touched his arm, an easily recognizable sensation compared to the blistering heat that the rest of his body was feeling, and then everything went away.

--

He woke up feeling uniformly bad. His head began to ache the second he opened his eyes. His whole body ached, too, like it’d been through some strenuous activity which he could not, at present, remember. His stomach felt strange. His throat burned. His hair was stuck to his forehead in a way that told him he’d been quite sweaty, but he was cold in a way that told him he wasn’t sweaty anymore. And, of course, he was in the hospital, one of his least favorite places in the world. He took a look around.

There was nothing special in the room, really. Nothing to tell him what had happened. A few machines. An IV in his arm. A pulse monitor on his finger. 

Someone in a white coat passed by his cracked-open door, and Nick called out to them, wincing when the action irritated his aching throat.

“Why am I here? What happened?”

“You were poisoned, Mr. Burkhardt. You collapsed in the emergency room.”

“I was poisoned?” He didn’t remember that. “Who poisoned me?”

“We were hoping you’d be able to tell us that,” said the doctor, looking sympathetic. “I’m afraid we don’t know.”

“Did you call anyone?” Nick asked, half-hoping but at the same time fearing they hadn’t. 

“We called your girlfriend, who was listed as your emergency contact,” the doctor told him, and Nick groaned. He really didn’t need to bother her with this. Not when she was already having to deal with the whole having-no-memories-of-him thing. 

“She said she’d be here as soon as she could,” the doctor went on, and Nick looked up in surprise. “She also said she was going to call a few of your friends, I believe. This was maybe fifteen minutes ago, so they should be here soon.” She gave Nick a smile. 

Nick returned it, mildly stunned. He’d been sure Juliette wouldn’t have wanted to come to the hospital for a man she barely knew, but she was coming, and so, evidently, were his friends. He smiled a little more and thanked the doctor, who said she’d be back shortly to speak with him some more. Then she left, and Nick was left to wait.

Which he didn’t have to do for long. Not five minutes later, Juliette, Monroe, Rosalee, and Hank stood crammed into his small hospital room, clamoring over each other to ask questions.

“Are you okay?” Juliette asked, looking at him with so much concern on her face that Nick nearly wanted to cry.

“Do they know what it was?” Came Rosalee’s question, as she smoothed a hand over his hair.

“Who did this to you?” Monroe asked, his eyes faintly red but still full of worry. “I’ll kill them, I swear.”

“I’ll join you,” Hank added, a similar expression on his face. 

Nick didn’t answer any of their questions, too caught up in just looking at them. At all of them, surrounding him in a way that would’ve made him feel trapped if they were anyone else, but which instead felt safe and comfortable and very right. They’d all come, for him. Stopped whatever it was they’d been doing. Left work. Just to come see him, because he’d been dumb enough to somehow get himself poisoned. 

“Nick? You okay?” Hank asked, and Nick quickly wiped away a tear he hadn’t realized had fallen down his face. “Yeah,” he said, out of instinct, and then he realized he meant it -

He might have been recovering from being poisoned, might have felt like absolute hell, might have been grappling with the question of who had hurt him and why, but he really was okay. He wasn’t alone. His friends were there, and that was all that really mattered. He was okay.

hello i hope this was not too bad!! thanks a bunch for reading! (also do not ask what he was poisoned with i do not know lol just pretend there’s some poison that does all this ok)

[quintessenceofdust73]

A Respite in Paradise

The Paladins had made camp in one of the lush valleys of Celadon IV, an isolated, uncharted, Earth-like sphere located in the outermost edge of the Milky Way Galaxy. The Lions were nearly drained of all power when they arrived and Keith knew they would need a lengthy solar recharge. He ordered their little caravan to a halt, and suggested that the team take some time for much-needed rest and relaxation. This was one of Keith’s orders that Lance actually agreed with and wholeheartedly obeyed.

Hunk unloaded a barbecue grill from Yellow Lion’s cargo hold as soon as they landed and began rummaging through their meager stores of exotic meats to find something to grill. Coran helped with this and then began an inventory of their other foodstuffs while Shiro and Keith helped Allura and Romelle set up the camp.

After Pidge’s detailed analysis of the plants they had collected, it was determined that the local flora would not do any harm to Kalternecker’s digestive system. When they were sure of that, Lance and Pidge had immediately led the cow to the grassiest area that they could find and laughed at her satisfied “moo” of happiness at the sight of so much green. Once Kalternecker was free of her tether, she bucked with ecstasy and frolicked in the flowery meadow along with Kosmo. Both animals were accompanied by Pidge’s ever-curious blue and green floofs which hovered over the field, silently observing it all. While taking in all the natural beauty around him, Lance had a sudden urge to pull Pidge a bit closer to him. He slipped his right arm casually around her narrow shoulders as he often did, but this time he deliberately held her closer than before. She turned to look up at him questioningly with those huge, intelligent eyes of hers, and Lance suddenly felt his cheeks warm a little. He smiled at her and was surprised at how his heart raced when she smiled back at him. He noticed that several lose tendrils of her hair had escaped from her messy bun, and that there were a few more soft waves that framed her face. She was pale after living inside of a spaceship for so long, and he knew they both had dark circles under their eyes from a lack of proper sleep. The two of them were both still in their battered armor, and both of them were sweaty and tired, but in this peaceful moment Lance could not recall any sight that he had ever seen that was more beautiful than the one before him.

They heard Coran’s voice in the distance, summoning them back to camp. Supper was ready. The smell of Hunk’s cooking never failed to make his mouth water.

Pidge took his hand and ran with him back to camp. It was nearly dusk when they all finally sat down to enjoy the evening meal.

After bestowing Hunk with many well-deserved compliments for the incredible supper he had prepared, the Paladins had all gone to sleep under the stars, and at last spent an entire evening completely undisturbed.

Even before the bright sun of this small green planet was peeking over the horizon, Lance was wide awake. The others slept on as the sun rose, still exhausted from their long journey. He stretched, then rose to his feet, not bothering with putting on his armor. Lance silently gathered up his bayard, a clean change of clothes, a towel, and his grooming kit. Then he hiked down to the nearby stream, relishing his every lungful of the cool morning air. This planet almost smelled like home, and the sound of the clean, running water was like music to his ears after being in the silent vacuum of space for so long. Lance eagerly stripped off his black under suit and then slipped naked into the cool water. He shivered at first, but then realized that his body would soon adjust to the lower temperature. He had entered the stream with his small container of body shampoo on a cord around his neck and an exfoliating scrubber in hand. With a whoop of pure joy, he dispensed a small amount of the concentrated cleanser and then rubbed it into a fragrant lather, scrubbing away the grime that had accumulated on his skin after being in a spacesuit for far too long. It was invigorating! He sang to himself and splashed around in the water with the delight of a child as he rinsed the suds and the grime away. As he lathered shampoo into his hair and ducked under water to rinse it out, he realized how long it had gotten. He hated to admit it, but he had a mullet that was as long as Keith’s had been the night that they rescued Shiro. That was the night he and Hunk had snuck out of the Garrison, following after the mysterious “boy” named Pidge...

A familiar giggle brought him out of his reverie. Eyes wide, Lance sunk down deeper into the water, his back to the nearest bank. “Who’s there?” But he already knew the answer to that, and he really hoped she hadn’t seen anything. Lance bit his lip and blushed at the thought of it. There was another giggle. Pidge! He turned to face her, but she was already scampering away. He saw her hasty retreat, noticing that she was wearing her Garrison backpack over her black under suit and her hair was falling in matted tangles from her now even messier bun.

“We will have to find another spot,” he heard her call to the other two girls. “Lance is down there.”

“Ugh! The last thing I want to see is Pointy Chin without any clothes on,” said Romelle.

“Indeed,” said Allura. “I wouldn’t want to have to look at that either.”

Lance pouted angrily, feeling momentarily hurt.

Then there was that familiar giggle again, and he strained to hear what Pidge was saying.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Pidge admitted. “I actually think he’s pretty cute,” Lance’s mouth fell open once more, his mind whirling. The laughter of all three girls faded into the distance as they searched for a more private place to bathe.

Pidge.

Pidge thought he was cute? He suddenly felt even more self-conscious about his nakedness, and once he was sure the girls were far enough away, he hastily rose up from the water, dried off, and then wrapped the towel around his waist. He set up the shaving mirror from his kit and frowned at what he saw: stubble, a few zits, and a soggy mullet with wet, too-long bangs that dripped water into his eyes. What was Pidge thinking? This was the worst he had ever looked in recent memory. Maybe she was blind without her glasses. He began to panic, searching his kit for his razor and a face mask.

After a quick but careful shave, he rinsed and dried his face, hastily donned a pair of clean blue underpants and tied back his too-long hair. Lance sat upon a large, smooth rock and prepared the ingredients for his favorite face mask. Zits begone! If Pidge liked him as much as he had hoped, he was determined to look his best for her. After slathering the green paste all over his face, he rinsed his hands and relaxed. He laid back upon the now-warm, smooth stone and closed his eyes, allowing the mask to dry in the sun...

When Lance’s mind was nearly awake once more, it was already mid-morning, and the face mask had dried until it cracked. He didn’t want to get up to rinse it off though. He felt lazy, and he enjoyed the sensation of the warm sunlight caressing his (mostly) bare skin. If he just kept his eyes closed he could imagine he was back home in Cuba, laying out in the sun on Varadero Beach, surrounded by beautiful bikini-clad women, or more realistically, with at least one particular pretty girl by his side, bikini-clad or not. His half-awake mind conjured up an image of a pale, petite girl in a modest emerald green bathing suit. Her beautiful long brown hair was wet, as if she had just emerged from the sea. She was gazing on him fondly as he slept in the sun. Paradise, he thought.

In his semiconscious daydream, the cute girl at his side was calling his name.

“Lance?”

“Hmm?” he mumbled.

“Lance, wake up.” The cute girl touched his arm. “You can’t sleep here all day you know. The rest of the team is wondering where you are, but I figured you would still be here, so I came to get you.”

His eyes snapped open, and it took him a moment to process everything. For a moment he thought he actually was on the beach in Cuba, especially when he saw the scantily clad long-haired beauty beside him.

Pidge.

Pidge with her long hair down, still damp from being washed. Not Pidge on the beach in a bikini, but Pidge wearing a green sports bra and a pair of cut-off shorts she had made herself, which was almost as good. He had no idea she was this hot. Smoking hot. Dead sexy. Was he still dreaming? He grinned at her goofily and felt his face mask crack.

Lance’s mind ran through every swear word he knew in English and Spanish, and then all of the alien swear words he knew, and then some he wasn’t sure of, but he didn’t say any of them out loud. Instead, he emitted a high-pitched yelp of surprise when he realized that he was not, in fact, wearing swim trunks and lying on a beach in Cuba, but he was, in fact, lying on a sun-warmed slab of stone on an alien planet wearing nothing but his underpants and a dried up face mask.

“I think you need to wash your face,” Pidge said, hardly able to contain her amusement. He noticed that she didn’t say anything about his lack of trousers.

“Uh, right.” Lance scrambled to the stream again to rinse and dry his face, which felt much smoother and cleaner, and hopefully blemish-free. He heard her behind him, trying to suppress her giggles and not succeeding. She gave up on silencing them and was now laughing hysterically. Lance felt his face burn hotter than the sun.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. Stay cool, he told himself. He got up and turned around, then tried to strike a confident pose.

Pidge laughed so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s funnier, the face mask or the mullet, or—“ she broke off, wheezing. “Or...the fact—“ She tried to catch her breath. “The fact that...you are standing there, striking a pose like a designer underwear model, pretending this isn’t embarrassing.”

Pidge’s laughter was one of his favorite sounds in the universe, and to him it was always infectious. Lance broke down at that moment and started laughing at himself along with her. He tried to cover himself modestly with his towel as he reached for his blue jeans. Then he turned his back to her and did a very silly butt-wiggling dance as he wriggled into them. Pidge was laughing so hard that she had to gasp for air. When he finally pulled up his jeans and zipped them, he turned to her and gave her his most smoldering look as the breeze ruffled his long hair.

“Now you look like one of the shirtless himbos in the ads for those trashy romance holodramas my mom watches.”

Lance sat down next to her, his sides shaking with laughter at her description of him. “Oh, no! My mom watches that junk too, and they’re the worst. I definitely want a haircut now.”

Pidge was still wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. “That’s why I’m here. Coran just gave Shiro and Hunk a haircut, but you missed yours, Sleeping Beauty.” She held up Coran’s clippers and a pair of Altean scissors. “And I missed my haircut too, in order to go looking for you.”

“Sleeping Beauty?” He said with a smirk. “Okay, I am going to pretend that isn’t sarcasm. If I’m a Sleeping Beauty, then why didn’t you awaken me with a kiss?” He thought his flirting was going well in spite of how humiliating this day had been for him so far.

Pidge blushed. “Maybe because I’d rather kiss you when you’re awake?” She said this timidly. Flirting wasn’t something she was accustomed to doing.

“You can kiss me anytime you want, whether I’m asleep or awake.” He said this to her earnestly, revealing more of his true feelings for her than he ever thought he could dare to admit. Lance was blushing in spite of himself. So much for being cool and confident.

Pidge looked at him wide eyed, then ducked her head shyly. Lance tipped her chin up gently, then gently caressed her cheek. They were both breathing raggedly as he moved closer to her. But just as he leaned down to kiss her, she pulled away.

“I can’t let you do this,” Pidge was shaking like terrified prey, trapped in a hunter’s snare. She looked ready to flee.

“Pidge? What’s wrong?” Lance reached for her. “Don’t go! Please, just talk to me. I don’t understand why—“

“I can’t be another one of those girls that you flirt with and forget about!” She she choked out. She was sobbing.

“Pidge! I would never—“

“You’re the only one that I have ever felt this way about and—“ She paused to catch a breath. “If you kiss me it has to mean as much to you as it does to me.” She looked at him boldly now, and even though her face was tear-stained, Lance thought she had never looked more beautiful or more courageous.

He was the one who was terrified now, afraid to say or do the wrong thing. He gaped at her in astonishment, stunned into silence.

Pidge waited for him to say something, but he was still just staring at her, trying to process what she was trying to tell him, and trying to figure out what to do next.

Her mind worked at light speed compared to his. She had already come to a conclusion and turned to leave.

“Pidge, wait!” Lance cried. She kept walking.

“Katie!” She did not stop. Lance knew he had to say something or his heart would shatter into a million pieces. There was no way to repair a heart that badly broken.

“Katie Holt, I am in love with you!” He shouted, and his words echoed around the valley. Then there was a frightening silence between them that caused his heart to momentarily stop beating. They might have been on a silent planet if not for the incessant babbling of the uncaring brook behind them.

She stood there, unmoving, but she did not turn to him.

“I love you. I always have. I guess I was waiting for the right time to tell you, and I was also waiting for you to grow up because you’re younger than me, and I guess I also realized I was the one who really needed to mature a lot more before I could be in a real relationship because you’ve always been more mature than me and—“

She turned around. Lance continued to babble more incessantly than the creek. It was if a dam had burst and a torrent of heartfelt words tumbled forth, as unstoppable as a flood.

“You’re the most amazing girl I have ever met in my entire life and you’re my best friend and I love being with you more than anyone else in the whole universe and I don’t just want to kiss you I want to belong to you, now and always. I want to spend a lifetime laughing with you or just listening to you say brilliant things every day or just watching the sunset with you or just being with by your side when you need me or even when you don’t need me, because I need you and I want to be a part of your life forever. I adore you, Katie, and I-“

Pidge stopped his barrage of words the only way she knew how. With all her strength, she leapt into his arms and embraced him. She stopped the flow of words at the source, kissing him fiercely as Lance lowered her gently to the ground.

Lance had been kissed a fair few times in his life, but he had never experienced anything like this. It was like flying, like being struck by lightning. It was like being born, and living, and dying, and being brought back to life again. It was like all of those things, and none of those things. She had poured into that kiss what he had been struggling to say with words that were far too meager to express the infinite.

When they broke apart, Lance just gazed upon her in shock and reverent silence.

“You are the first and only man I have ever loved and will always love. You are in my heart, and if anything bad ever happened to you, a part of me would die. That is how I love you.” She sobbed. “That’s the only way I know how to love you.”

Lance buried his face in her hair, which was soft, fragrant, wild, and very soon damp with his own tears of relief. He held her close and comforted her as she sobbed happy tears against his bare chest.

When they finally regained control of their emotions, he lead her to the stream. They both washed their faces.

“I missed breakfast,” he began. “I hope I didn’t make you miss lunch.” Much to Pidge’s disappointment, Lance pulled on his old blue and white T-shirt.

Pidge opened her backpack. In it there were sandwich rolls, snacks, and cold drinks. “I didn’t know how long it would take to find you, but somehow I knew you would be hungry when I did.” She decided to put on her well worn Galaxy Garrison T-shirt, which was too small for her. Lance grinned, hoping he could hide his expression behind the first bite of his sandwich.

“You think of everything.”

“That’s because I’m brilliant.”

“I am definitely going to marry you when this war is over, you know that, don’t you?”

“You’d better.” There was a beautiful peace between them, like the calm after a storm. “You still need that haircut.”

“I know. Promise me you won’t cut your hair though. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s too long. I can barely fit it under my helmet anymore.”

“I could braid it for you.”

“Really? And what do you actually know about braiding hair?”

“I have sisters. I used to braid Veronica’s hair until she cut it short, and Rachel’s hair is still pretty long, or at least it was last time I saw her...”

They spend the rest of the afternoon reminiscing about home and talking about their hopes for the future.

*****

Kaltenecker came to the stream to drink that afternoon, and Pidge’s floofs hovered nearby, watching their beloved human friend beside the male human she loved most.

The floofs observed their dear little human attempting to give the male human’s head fur a trim. They saw that both of them thought the result was very funny. Their little female human cried at the mistakes she made when trimming head fur, but the floofs knew it would be alright because the tall male human seemed to be pleased with her efforts nonetheless. He rubbed his face against hers many times, as they often did to her. Of course, the floofs knew that this meant that the tall human loves their dear little one, and that she was very happy about it indeed. Clearly, it was some sort of human courtship ritual.

Perhaps they would mate and have little floofs of their own one day.

But that was a story for another time.

[musicalluna]

a long, lonely while, part vi

this part came out a bit different. let me know what you think.

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | on ao3

--

Clint's vision is 20/10, which is as good as it gets. More importantly, he knows how to see. Actually seeing things and not just looking at them is something of a special skill, he's learned. Most people don't do that.

Point is, he does.

So he sees a lot of things the others miss. Natasha hates the smell of cooking meat. Bruce gets shifty-eyed when he sees people drinking bottles of Pingo Doce. Thor tends to poke them occasionally—Clint hasn't quite figured that one out. Steve flinches when he hears trains. Tony won't let anyone else drive, or hand him things, and since Pepper left, he's gotten progressively sicker. Things have improved slightly since Thor came back, which was when Clint realized it wasn't just break-up blues, but something else. Thor's a handsy guy and apparently just what the doctor ordered for Stark. He's still under the weather, but it's better. Clint prides himself on his observation skills, so he hates that he didn't put it together before.

He thinks he's made up for it though, because he's pretty sure he's the only one—except maybe Natasha—who realizes Steve's totally smitten with Tony. Sure, Tony can get Steve's back up in a hot second, but you only have to watch the guy for ten minutes to see the way he looks at Tony. Like he single-handedly built the 21st century. Like he's the only thing that makes sense in the whole world. Which—really? Tony makes sense to Steve. Tony.

Anyway, if Clint handles things right, this could solve all their problems. No more sick Tony, no more moony Steve. Steve might even let his hair down and start actually living in this century instead of just playing the part he's been given by rote. The team might actually work. They're coming up on the end of Tony and Pepper's self-imposed Separation Period, so that's gotta mean it's been long enough Tony can start seeing other people, right?

Clint's got arrows, which makes him the perfect matchmaker, obviously.

When he explains all this to Tasha, she pulls back mid-spar to give him the most underwhelmed look ever. “You know, sometimes you're as dumb as you pretend to be.”

“Hey, I am exactly as dumb as I pretend to be.”

Nat's hand shoots out and smacks him across the face. “You are not.”

“Ow, hey. You literally just said—”

“I know what I said. They're both fragile. Tony is touch-starved, that doesn't mean he wants a relationship again so soon. And Steve has rejected everyone I propose.”

Clint pushes sweaty hair back off his forehead. “Yeah, but have you proposed Stark?”

“No,” she admits.

“I'm telling you, the guy is gaga over Stark. You think Stark wouldn't be into him?”

“Anyone with even a marginal interest in men is interested in Steve Rogers,” she says wryly. “And Tony's interest is anything but marginal.”

“Right. So what's the problem? They hook up, Steve's happy, Tony gets all of his pent up 40s-boy handsy-ness, we all win.”

“Unless it blows up in our faces. If it goes badly, they'd tear the team apart.” Her fists clench and she looks at him, her mouth tight. “Clint. For the first time in my life I think I have something instead of nothing. And I want it. I want it so badly it scares me. I can't risk it.”

Clint steps closer, curling one hand around her fist. “What, I'm not enough for you?”

Natasha gives him a dirty look, and Clint wrestles back a smile.

“Kidding, I'm kidding. But, Tash, what if it goes right?”

Nat sighs shakily and lets her head drop forward until her forehead is resting on his chest. “Well, if they're screwing they'll be able to work out their frustration.”

Clint snorts and cups a hand around the back of her neck. “Probably mellow them both out, right?”

“Oh, god. I hate that you're probably right.”

Clint grins.

“Take it slow, okay? Steve might be interested, but he's still floundering. And Tony. Well, he's Tony.”

“I got this, Nat. Leave it to me.”

–

Clint takes it slow, as promised. Nat isn't the only one who feels like she's found something that's been missing from her life.

First, he takes Steve out for beers to verify that Steve is, in fact, into Tony.

“So is it just Stark's ass you're into, or is it the whole package?”

Steve splutters, spitting a mouthful back into the bottle. When he gets past the surprise, he drops his head forward and groans, “Am I still that obvious?”

“Your crush is visible from space, man. It has it's own zip code. Disney songs play when you look at him.”

This look of panic comes over Steve's face, and Clint holds up a hand before he can get going.

“Tony's clueless. He's kind of going through shit right now, you know?”

“I know,” Steve says soberly to his bottle. He sighs. “I can't seem to get my timing right.”

“Hey,” Clint says, elbowing him lightly, “don't write the whole thing off yet.”

So that's all he needs to know about Steve. The spark's there. Now he just has to see if the same is true on Stark's side. It doesn't have to go anywhere soon, Clint just wants to know if he's barking up the wrong tree.

“'Ey, Tony!” he calls in lieu of a greeting and gallops across the workshop to sling his arm around Tony's neck.

“Barton!” Tony complains, failing to stifle his amusement. Clint puts him in a headlock.

“Time for a break, buddy,” Clint says cheerfully.

“I've only been here an hour!” Tony protests.

Clint leans forward to look Tony in the eye. He points at his own face with his free hand. “This is me. Not caring.”

“You're a dick.”

He lets Clint haul him up off the stool and toward the elevator though. He also leans into the arm Clint still has hooked around his neck. Clint's specialty is brotherly manhandling, but, hey. It works okay.

“Speaking of dicks. You like them, right?”

Tony snorts. “Seriously?” The amusement drops out of his expression abruptly. “Uh. Please tell me you're not asking for you. Because, uh, I'm flattered, but—”

“Gross, no. There's, like, one guy I'd bang and it's not you.”

Tony relaxes into his grasp again. “Coulson, huh?”

“Not talking about that,” Clint says loudly. “We're talking about you. And dicks.”

Tony snickers. “Yeah, I'm into dicks.” He shrugs, Clint's arm riding the wave of the motion. “Into whatever, really.”

Clint glances down at him, marveling. Tony's not secretive about his queerness, but it's still kind of mind-blowing how different Tony is from his flashy public persona. “What, so like, aliens? Tentacles?”

=

“I was thinking more along the human spectrum, but...” He shrugs with his face this time. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You think Thor has a dick? Or something else?”

Tony barks out a laugh, then quickly schools his expression, elbowing Clint. “Were you raised in the circus? You don't ask about people's genitals. Wait—”

“Har har!” Clint drags Tony's head down against his chest and gives him a noogie, inordinately pleased with himself when Tony cackles and smacks at his hands.

“Asshole! Cut it out!”

Clint lets him go and they fall against the back wall of the elevator, shoulders pressing together.

“Why are you so interested in my proclivities all the sudden?”

Clint shrugs, deliberately jostling Tony. “The period of mourning is going to be over soon probably, right? I'm getting intel so I can be the best wingman ever when the time comes.”

Tony covers the arc with one hand, like he's touched, but then he says, “You are never going anywhere as my wingman, Bird Brain.”

Clint tackles him and they fall into one corner of the elevator, yelling and laughing and Clint doesn't let up until Tony's coughing too hard to breathe between bursts of laughter.

“What the hell?” Steve demands, standing in the open door. “Clint, are you tryin' to kill him?”

Steve leans into the elevator and helps pull Tony to his feet, Tony clinging to Steve's arm and giggling in between hacking coughs.

Clint smiles while they're distracted. Tony'll be ready sooner or later and he'll be okay until then.

[allivegottodoislove]

The Song Remains The Same

here it is! chapter sixteen, like 13 weeks after i promised it! sorry that my life got so hectic! but it’s summer now, so i’m trying to write a ton more for you guys! as a small update, i might post a larger one later, but i do promise that will be an update next week. ive been writing the next chapter of a lad insane, so there will be an update of that next week. i am going to try to have an update of this fic for next week, though, because i do know that this seems to be the preferred fic

but without further ado, enjoy chapter sixteen!

     At some point in the night, everything started to blend together for Calypso. Where her body ended and Robert's began, she wasn't sure anymore. They had spent hours wrapped around each other. If Calypso didn't know better, she would have thought Robert was dying. But it was quite the opposite, wasn't it?

     If Calypso had been capable of coherent thought, she would have pondered it. Was this his celebration of life? Or a man dealing with news he didn't know how to deal with? Besides another death, this might just have been the worst news Robert could have gotten. At least, that's how it seemed to Calypso.

     Her brain wasn't working, though. Robert had effectively, for that night at least, shut off any thought processes. She didn't need them.

     By the time they had finally passed out, they were both sticky and sweaty. They were just a pile of limbs and sore muscles. Neither cared, though. All they had wanted was to continue touching, to never let each other go. The good fight against their eyelids had been lost.

     Robert was the first of the two to begin to stir. His eyes flicked open, adjusting quickly to the little streams of light in the room. He began to move, but soon realized he couldn't. Calypso was carefully tucked into his side. Her head rested carefully on his arm. Even if his heart had felt a little cruel, his arm was asleep. The rest of his body might want to stretch, but it would have to wait.

     His attention turned to the rest of his body as he thought of it. It ached. But, this was an ache that Robert had long forgotten. It was no longer the aches and pains of old age; the pains of all the harm he had caused his body gone. It was almost easy to forget they had ever been there.

     Calypso shifted slightly. Robert turned to face her, but noticed she was still lost to sleep. Let her have a few moments more, he figured. It was tough for him. He couldn't imagine the thoughts running through Calypso's head. He hoped he offered her more solace than pain.

     His spare hand, the one not curled in Calypso's hair, ran down his own torso. It was a physique he had long forgotten. It was one that he had only managed to maintain on the road; mountains of cocaine had made it all possible. Now that he had been given it back, would it be back to those old vices? Robert hadn't thought of anything harder than marijuana in years. But what was to stop him now?

     The one part of his body Robert could stretch, he did. It was the leg he had injured years ago in that accident. It felt like a lifetime ago to him. To this body, it had never happened. Perhaps it was what he was most grateful about now. That leg had never felt right again after, never healed completely as it should have. On rainy days like today, it would ache and protest his every movement.

     It was only natural when Robert's attention shifted back to the warm body against him. It was a familiar feeling. Most of his life had been spent like this: a pretty face in bed that he hardly knew, but had already grown comfortable with. Perhaps that was his true vice. Robert's love flowed freely. He'd never been one to believe in having a single love.

     It hadn't been until recently that the stream of girls had stopped. Finally, he had gotten too old. Or, the world had moved past him, his rock star status meaningless to those women. This one had changed that, though. Unknowingly, she had even made it possible for that stream of women to return.

     Another old vice Robert wasn't sure he'd like to return to. His bed had gotten lonely. There was no denying this. But now he had a new girl to fill it, one he rather enjoyed.

     She was a pretty face, there was no denying that. Looking at her now, Robert would be a fool to suggest anything else. At least, he would feel one. Any sign of concern or worry was wiped from her face. Despite her age, Robert had noticed her eyes always carried some anxiety in them. All he found himself wanting to do was wipe that away.

     Looking closer at her, he could see a faint smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. It seemed her tanned, olive skin usually hid them from the world. Robert counted himself lucky to see them.

     His mind, and free hand, quickly wondered from her face to elsewhere. It never took him much to get going. Even in his old age, he had still gotten there quickly when he needed to. Unable to stop himself, he leaned in and placed a kiss to her lips.

     At the sudden new pressure, Calypso woke. Her eyes fluttered opened and she gave him a sleepy smile. It was still so much for her mind to process. In her groggy state, she half thought the vision of him was a dream.

     It took a second kiss for her heart to really jump into action. This was real. It was all real. Her only physical reaction was her smile grew just a bit more.

     As she came a bit more too, she reached a hand up to play with his hair before returning his kiss.

     "Good morning," she mumbled. It was obvious that sleep was still in her voice. For a faint moment, Robert debated letting her sleep. As much as he would have loved to spend the morning lazily making love, he couldn't keep her up like that. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled.

     Before any words could leave his mouth, there was a loud banging downstairs, accompanied by some vague grumbling. Robert could only sigh and run his hand down his face.

     "Good morning to all of us, it seems," he mumbled. Calypso just chuckled softly before she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "As much as staying in bed with you all day sounds perfect," he said as his hand ran down her body, "I do believe that we have our guests to attend to."

     Her heart froze a little at least. She knew it was foolish. Time and time again he had said they were their guests. Hell, last night he had asked her to stay, indefinitely. But there was still something that got to her. Maybe it always would. It was hard for her to guess how things might play out.

     The memory alone of last night had her wanting to cry. Not the sex they had, she would never be saddened by that. But rather, how gentle he had been when talking to her. She knew Robert had a way with words. It how he had won over the whole world; his lyrics spoke right to people. Having that magic worked on her personally would always get to her.

     "I'll go deal with them now," he mumbled. He finally wrangled his arm out from under her and sat up. His arms went above his head to stretch, and Calypso couldn't help but reach over and tickle at his sides.

     "You devil!" He roared with laughter as he turned to face her. "Just for that, you're on your own with the shower!" If Calypso hadn't seen the twinkle in his eyes, she might have thought he was serious.

     "You wouldn't do that, now," she said as he laughed again.

     "No, I suppose I wouldn't want to do that," he said with a laugh. Calypso stood up from the bed, and all at once began to realize how sore she was. It hadn't hit her before then. Or, perhaps it hadn't mattered until her legs tried to give out from under her.

     "Worked you a little hard last night?" Robert asked with a chuckle. Calypso just rolled her eyes and laughed.

     "Nothing I can't take again," she said with a wink. Robert offered her his arm as he kissed her forehead.

     "I'll walk you there, maybe be so kind as to explain how the shower works," he said with a smile. She nodded and simply followed him. It was a bit unnecessary, after a few seconds of standing she had gained her bearings again, but the contact was nice. She'd never refuse it.

     Once in the bathroom, Robert let go of her arm to grab a towel and place it on the sink. "Now, this contraption can get a little tricky." He spoke with a grin as he slid the shower curtain over. "This little thing here controls the pressure, and the other controls the heat. I do hope you enjoy yourself," he said. The grin he had on his face lit Calypso's insides on fire again.

     "But, if that's not good enough for you, feel free to take a bath. If you don't, I might just try and con you into one later." Calypso could only smile and lean up to kiss his cheek in response.

     Once she started the shower, she looked back at Robert with a grin. "I might just let you con me into that bath later."

     Another loud bang came from downstairs and Robert rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you to your peace now, and go deal with our rather raucous guests," he said before disappearing. As much as she hated parting with him, watching him go, especially naked, was such a sweet sight.

     Calypso held her hand out under the water, waiting for it to get warm enough. That didn't take too long. How he managed to have such a lovely shower in the middle of nowhere she didn't quite understand. But, that mattered not now. She stepped into the shower and closed the curtain behind her.

     Once the water hit her back, she was unable to keep herself from letting out a gentle moan. Any of the knots in her back seemed to come undone between the pressure and the hot water. It was exquisite.

     For a few moments, she just stood under the showerhead and enjoyed the warmth. Her eyes flew open when she thought she heard the door open. Would Robert be joining her in the end? No noises seemed to follow immediately, until she heard Jimmy yelling from downstairs. The door made a quick slamming sound not long after. Perhaps he had thought about it, but their guests were too much. She'd have to gaud him into that bath later.

     All of Robert's hair products smelled amazing. It wasn't something that should have surprised her. He always smelled divine. It would only make sense his products would as well.

     It wasn't until she began to wash her body that she realized how much Robert had marked her up. Nothing but hickeys, of course. She doubted he would be capable of the things she heard Jimmy did. But, she found her body littered in hickeys. None were in plain sight, something she was incredibly grateful for. Her thighs, in particular, seemed to be the most marked up. She could remember him eating her out, how could she ever forget, but she didn't think he had put that much work into it.

     As she stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel on the sink, she realized she hadn't picked out any clothing. For a moment, she began to wonder where her suitcase had gone. She hadn't seen it this morning, or even last night. Had Robert moved it on her?

     She wrapped the towel around her and noticed that, on the closed toilet seat, there was an outfit picked out for her. It seemed as if Robert had picked out something for her. He already seemed too sweet to be real. It was just a pair of black jeans and a sweater, but it would do. Now she wouldn't have to worry about leaving the warmth of the bathroom completely naked.

     She slipped the jeans on, and then the sweater. It looked similar to one she owned. Of course it would have to hers, right? It was just a tad bigger than she remembered, and she certainly didn't remember packing it. But, with the whirlwind she had been swept up into, she couldn't blame herself for forgetting some things.

     She ran the towel a couple times through her hair, just to make sure it wasn't completely soaked. From there, she found her way downstairs. The smell of good food filled the air, and she knew that she had to head toward the kitchen. It was where Robert would be. At least, she assumed that's who was cooking, based on dinner last night. Perhaps things would be changed up.

     Walking it the kitchen, the first thing she saw was the back of Robert, his curls halfway down his back. How he managed to get them to look so nice, seemingly without any effort, was lost on her.

     "It smells delicious," she said after a few moments. A girl had to enjoy a view, right?

     "Just in time," he said as he turned around to face her. His face lit up as he made eye contact with her. "I cooked up whatever I could find for a good English breakfast, I hope that you don't mind," he said.

     "I've yet to have a proper one, and I can't imagine a better, or more handsome, cook," she said with a grin. Robert grinned and just rolled his eyes. "Was it you that snuck back into the bathroom to gift me with my clothing?"

     "Well, the sweater is mine, but it looks better on you than it ever did on me. One of the few things I found I had lying around from a different era," he chuckled.

     Calypso, on the inside, could only melt in that. Now it made sense why the sweater looked so familiar. It wasn't one that she owned. Rather, it was one she had likely seen him photographed in. But, also, he was giving her his clothing to wear. It was stupid, but it was probably the most romantic gesture someone had ever done for her.

     "I'll make sure to give it back to you," she replied quickly.

     "Darling, you don't need to. Like I said, you look much better in it," he said with a smile. "I didn't want to go searching through your bag too much, privacy and all," he said while waving a spatula around. "You'll have to unpack your bag eventually. I'll clean out some dressers for you."

     "Oh, you don't need to do that," Calypso mumbled.

     "Nonsense, I will. Now, I hope you don't mind helping me carry this to the table?" He asked as he held out a plate to her.

     "No, not at all," she replied as she took the plate. It was all so domestic. Setting the kitchen table for breakfast while wearing his clothing? It felt unreal. Calypso wasn't sure what to make of it all. How could she? It wasn't like she had gone to the concert with the plans to tie down the mysterious and ever illusive Robert Plant. Hell, she hadn't even been planning to sleep with him.

     There was just so much to process all at once. For the most part, she could handle it. But there were small pockets were she felt overwhelmed with anxiety. She didn't want to lose this. It was good; honestly it seemed a little too good. What if she managed to screw this up? The spell might say they were meant to last forever, but what if she took a wrong step? What if he found another woman?

     It wasn't like Robert was known to fall for one person. Even back when he was freshly married, he was a notorious womanizer. There was nothing keeping them together. She hadn't had problems with his ways when Robert hadn't been so real to her. Now he was, and he was back to his Golden God looks, what would stop the Golden God ways?

     Touring was the big question. With all this, she refused to believe that Jimmy would press to get the real band back together. Logically, she knew he probably wouldn't go on tour again. At least, not with Zeppelin and probably not on his own for a while, with the new looks and all. That was assuming they ever went public with this whole disaster. Though, she wasn't sure how they manage to hide it forever. There would be other woman all over him on the road. It wouldn't be hard to find a prettier, more experiences girl than her.

     Now wasn't the time to be freaking out about that. It was too early in their relationship, if she could even call it that, to start to worry. If she did, she'd look crazy. It was a roller coaster she was going to have to learn to just ride. It's what Robert always seemed to do.

     "You'll be joining us for breakfast, right?" She asked as she looked back at him.

     "Of course, I didn't cook all this for nothing. I'm not getting paid," he laughed, "Just tell everyone to wait for me, I just gotta finish this." Calypso just smiled and walked into the kitchen.

     She took a few minutes to set the table. Of course she knew this wasn't all the food. Robert would likely be bringing in more. It looked like he had been planning to feed a small army. Maybe with these men, and Jonesy's wife, it would be like feeding an army. Robert knew them better than she.

     From the kitchen, she went to the living room. The sounds of idle chitchat and the morning news filled the room. It seemed to be some news story on their concert. If only the reporter knew the goldmine that might come out of Zeppelin one day.

     "Morning everyone!" She managed to get out before the shock hit her. The sight in front of her was one that was still shocking. Jimmy and Bonzo sat on two chairs, side by side, with Jonesy and his wife cuddled up on the couch. If the news hadn't just said the day's date, she would think it was 1972 again. It amazed her. It took everything in her body to not have her jaw drop. As it were, it was clear she was still a bit shocked because Jimmy chuckled under his breath.

     "Morning Calypso," Jonesy said with a smile. It seemed he was the only morning riser. Everyone else sluggishly turned to her with a smile, and mumbled their good mornings under their breathes. Bonzo and Jimmy practically grunted.

     "Rough night boys?" She asked with a teasing smile.

     "Would have been a lovely night, if someone hadn't been managed to keep me up most the night," Jimmy mumbled. The look he said it told her everything. They'd all heard her and Robert, likely all night. Her face turned a bright red from sheer embarrassment.

     If Jimmy had heard them, there was no doubt that the whole house had heard them. Were the rest of them just going to put up with it? Never tell them they had been horrendously loud?

     "Oh god, I'm so-" she opened her mouth to apologize by Jonesy cut her off.

     "Now, Jimmy, there's no need-" he said, but was cut off by Robert as he walked into the room.

     "Consider it payback, for all those nights on the road, especially during the 90s tour," he said with a laugh. "We've all lost sleep and years off our lives because of the noises you and your little girl friends made," he said.

     Jimmy answered with a roll of his eyes before he spoke. "All in good fun, Robert, of course it's all in good fun," he said with a wink. Robert just rolled his eyes before he motioned for everyone to follow him.

     "The kitchen table fits us all better, wouldn't you agree?" He asked. "Besides, some of you are messy eaters and I'll be damned if you stain the furniture," he said with a smile.

     Everyone laughed at that and followed Robert to the dining room. It seemed that he had brought out a few more plates than Calypso had assumed, because there was much more food than she had remembered.

     Robert took his seat first, and motioned for Calypso to sit down next to him. Everyone else filled in around them, with Maureen on her other side.

     "How did everyone else sleep?" Robert asked as he began to pass the plates around.

     "I couldn't get to bed," Bonzo said as he began to pile the food onto his plate. No doubt he was hungry. Calypso couldn't really blame him. "I suppose taking a twenty something year long cat nap will do that to you, he said. There was a nervous tone in his voice.

     But at least he was joking about it, Calypso thought that was at least good. It was an uncomfortable subject. Looking around at the table, she could see the mix of reactions. It was clearly a joke, but a joke no one was quite ready for. How did you joke about your buddy's death with the dead buddy?

     "First time in years I got to wake up without that crick in my neck," Jonesy said. There was a smile on his face that was suggesting something else.

     "And you, Mo? I hate to think we kept you up like the princess here," Robert said as he pointed a thumb at Jimmy. Jimmy, in return, just hugged and rolled his eyes.

     "Oh, no no," she chuckled. "Both me and John slept just like babies." Her grin matched Jonesy's and that was what made the spark in Calypso's brain go off.

     She knew very little of Jonesy's marriage. It didn't seem to be very well publicly documented, and honestly she never really did the research into Jonesy. It never hit her to. But the way they were grinning and looking at each other? Perhaps her and Jonesy were the ones that kept Jimmy up, not Calypso and Robert. She couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at that.

     Breakfast, from there, seemed to be a roaring conversation about nothing as they all passed plates around. Once everything seemed to be piled high on people's plates, the conversation died down as they all ate. It was clear the stress of yesterday had made plenty of room in all their stomachs.

     Once Robert was done, he looked around the table to notice that everyone else seemed to be just about done as well. "I'll go put the kettle on," he said as he got up. It only took him a few minutes to return and sit down, clearly waiting for the scream of the kettle before he returned.

     "Before the tea, though, I don't want anyone to go anywhere. I think we have a few problems to deal with. The first is the dishes, I'm not washing up after all you animals," he laughed. "But, there are a couple other, bigger issues I think need a bit of our attention as well."

[preppypolkadot]

Sick (Timeless Lyatt Fic)

Summary: She returned back to the bunker with an infected wound expecting to find him. But she never for the life of her expected to find Her in the bunker as well.

Notes:

Okay, that summary is awful. But to be honest i don't even know where this story comes from. I was rewatching season 2 because it's finally on Netflix and right after episode 4 and was at the very beginning of episode 5 I was struck by an idea and it has haunted me ever since. What happened during the time they got back from Salem to the time where Lucy woke up and Jiya told her that the boys went on a mission without her. I also liked to believe that she was out of it for a couple of days, hence, this story.

I would like to apologize for the possible headache it might inflict while reading this story and in the future.

Would also like to point out that all the mistakes; timeline, facts, grammar, and typo are all mine. Also wish I own the rights for the show cause then will have 20 seasons not just 2.

So without further ado....

He got his wife back.

And of course he’d bring her back here in the silo, because… she’s his wife.

He got his wife back.

And it all happen just right after they got back, together, full of potential and love. Whoa where did that come from? Love? I don’t love wyatt…. At least not yet. She sigh. She’s a mess ever since that phone call, went back to colonial time salem, got stab on the arm, went back still a mess. She doesn’t expect to feel better anytime soon, but it most definitely helped that she went on a mission with Rufus and Flynn. Yes, you heard that right she is glad she went with Flynn. FLYNN! She’s not going to lie, working with both men gave her the sense that she will be fine without Wyatt, that she will be able to move on with life without Wyatt. That is until her mother showed up and have her accused of being a witch. But she persevered and now they’re back and she believes she’s a stronger person.

Standing here right now, a few feet away from both Wyatt and Jessica, seeing how beautiful she really is and remembering how broken Wyatt was for years, all her previous self encouragement just disappeared on thin air and with it the little voice in her head telling her that maybe all of this is just a bad dream and it’s bound to end soon. It was an instant decision, the right one she thought, she figured that all this feelings that she’s having right now, the confusion, anger, butterflies, everything, she will just bottle it all up. She did manage to hide her then tiny crush on wyatt everytime they go on a mission. Flynn’s huge hand tugging at her good arm pulled her back to reality. How long has she been staring at Jessica? Am i looking at her with dagger? My left arm is throbbing. Damn! I’ve been stabbed with an ancient knife. Is that fatal? Am I dying?! The awkwardness in the air is thick, maybe it is better if die.

She let Flynn drag her to the girl’s room with Agent Christopher and Jiya trailing behind, both asking questions about the mission and how her arms get stabbed, who stabbed you? Is it rittenhouse? Did you get the rittenhouse agent? What are they after at 1690’s Salem? Were you there during the witches revolt? That one is asked with so much enthusiasm it actually made her smile. Wait what? Witches revolt? Stay in your room i’m calling a doctor.  She wants to answer all of it, it’s the teacher in her she suppose, but she also just want to lie down and process the mission and more importantly the fact that Jessica is in the bunker.

Jiya helped her lie down, they both watch agent Christopher and Flynn walked out of their room, waited until they don’t hear their footsteps anymore until she looked back at her. “Wyatt brought her here.” Jiya answered before she could even process what she really want to know. “We were all surprise, Denise is still trying to get a hold of him when you guys left and when she stopped calling that’s when he showed up… that’s when they showed up.” She let go of the sigh she didn’t even know she’s holding and wince at her injured arm she’s pretty sure is getting worse. “Let me grab the first aid kit, we should at least try to clean the wound while we wait for the doctor.”

She closed her eyes willing herself to focus on Jiya’s fading footstep but as soon as it disappear there’s really nothing else to focus on except at her wounded arm and her wounded heart. She prefer focusing on the arm because as horrific as it sound that was easier to focus at.

Last she remembered before she declared that she’s just resting her eyes is that there are still some light from the outside streaming through the tiny bunker window and it couldn’t have been a long time ago, but she’s guessing a significant amount of time has passed because it’s now dark outside. She’s sweaty but she didn’t care. First thing she noticed is that the pain got worse, second is that Jiya is sound asleep on the cot opposite her. She’s now noticing what had changed around her. There is now a water basin, wet cloth, medicines, and extra clean bandages. I must be really out of it for doctor to come in and for me to not notice? She let out what she thought is a silent groan, back sticky from sweat, hair matted. Turns out she was loud cause it woke up Jiya. “Woah there professor take it easy. Do you need anything?” she was besides her in an instant.

“Water.” she croak, throat extremely dry.

“Here,” she poured her one and babbled on “Rufus brought a pitcher of water for this exact moment. Don’t tell him you actually needed it okay, he will not let me hear the end of it.” she giggled “I might have told him to leave you alone and let you rest but he insisted that he should bring you sustenance just in case.”

Jiya’s rambling, but she likes it. It takes her mind off her throbbing head and arm. She reached for the latter and for the first time she notice the professionally placed bandage on top of it. She winced when her fingers made contact.

“Agent Christopher also brought soup you should probably eat some before i give you pain meds.”

“Wow seems like everyone has seen me on my deathbed.” she let out what she think resemble something of a laugh but it sounded weird. Jiya looked at her sadly, she raised an eyebrow urging her to say whatever she’s been holding back. Is she actually dying? “Jiya it’s just a joke, unless i’m actually dying? Oh god…”

“No, you’re not dying!” She countered. “More like who came by to check on you and who didn’t…” she’s avoiding her eyes but continued nonetheless. “Connor and Agent Denise we’re both here when the doctor stopped by, making sure that you’re really getting the treatment you needed because you have 105 fever.”

“Wow I have 105 fever…” without any warning Jiya reached for her forehead.

“You might still have one, you’re still super warm. But the biggest surprise for everyone is Flynn stopping by to check if, his exact words are, ‘Is she still breathing?’” I let out a chuckle. “ And then rufus stopped by before I go to bed to bring water, I got tired of everyone knocking at the door so I kinda snapped at him telling him that what you actually need is to be left alone and rest, not water.” Jiya has a apologetic look on her eyes. “Maybe do tell him you drank some of the water he brought, that would actually be nice.”

It had taken her longer than usual for her brain to process all that information and to realize that there is still one more person in the group that Jiya hasn’t mentioned. Her foggy brain has finally put two and two together and she finally understood what the woman in front of her is trying to avoid.

Wyatt.

She hates that knowing that he didn’t even check on her hurts more than the pain she’s experiencing with both her head and arm combined. Well… he did just get his wife back, so why would he visit a co-worker? Because two missions ago we were more than coworkers that’s why! She’s not really sure why she’s answering her own questions right now but all of a sudden she is too tired and just want to lie back on the cot and rest her eyes again. Jiya noticing the sudden deflate of energy from her tried to coax her to at least taking a few sips from the soup “I’ll heat it up on the microwave real quick. It might also be time for you to take your antibiotics. You’re still pretty warm.”

“I’ll just quickly close my eyes, I’ll eat after a few minutes.”

Next thing she knows is it’s bright outside again and that all she could remember from that whole late night exchange with Jiya is ‘soup’. Did everyone brought her soup? Is that it? She let out another not so subtle groan but this time Jiya is not in the room but there on her behalf sitting on a possibly most uncomfortable chair is Agent Christopher… Knitting? She had closed her eyes again fully resigned that, yes, maybe her condition has gotten worse. But really? Agent Christopher knitting? That has got to be whole new level of hallucinations. Another groan and that had brought agent Christopher besides her in an instant.

“What do you need sweetie?” Spoken like a true mother she thought. She tries to remember with her foggy brain if her actual mother was that concern when she was sick. Maybe once? Most of the time she just gave her books to read telling her that reading will make her feel better. It did but she still crave the maternal affection.

“Water?” Then it hit her she’s now wearing an IV. Agent Christopher followed her gaze.

“Jiya told me you haven’t eaten anything so I called the doctor and she suggested IV, it’s the only way to actually have liquids and meds in you.” At this point every part of her is sore, agent Christopher helped her sit up when she notice her gave it all but fail miserably anyways.

“What happened to me?” even her own voice sounds so foreign in her own ears.

“Mostly infections, stab wound is shallow but it still requires stitches, high fever probably from the infections.” Agent Christopher held at the glass of water while she drinks obviously not trusting her with it.

“I think I might also have hallucinations.” I stare at the ball of yarn and what look like a scarf waiting for it to disappear but it didn’t.

“Maybe, Jiya did mention you murmuring all evening, you mentioned a few names ever since I had taken over looking after you. Doctor’s strict order that there should always be someone in the room just in case the high fever brought seizures.” Denise followed her eyes that are still staring at the ball of yarn. “Oh that’s not hallucination Lucy, I’m knitting.”

“You are?” She tried sounding surprise but she’s pretty sure she sounds more like a drunk right now. She want to lie down again, her eyes closing on its own. Agent Denise notice and had attempted to keep her upright.

“No lucy you need to eat something. Don’t go back to sleep--” Too late she was out.

Next she open her eyes it’s dark again, Jiya is back sleeping on her cot. Like the last time, she tried to remember what happened before she black out again. Soup. She paused and force herself to remember more, she’s an historian for crying out loud she knows even the tiniest details of history. But for the life of her all she could really think about right now is soup! Its frustrating but also tiring so she closed her eyes again.

Next time she open her eyes though she hears talking, There’s a pause and she waited for another person to talk but no response and then the person has started talking again. She close her eyes but this time to focus on the words, it’s all murmurs but she manage to catch a fews phrases. I should’ve have been there. I’m sorry. Flynn said you got stabbed trying to save someone, when did you become so heroic? I thought that part is my job. Chuckle or more murmuring she really couldn’t distinguish. But it now occur to her who the owner of voice is.

Wyatt.

What is he doing here? Is it actually all just a bad dream? Her hopes soared only for it to come crashing down. There is it the other voice she’s been waiting to hear. A woman’s voice that doesn’t sound like Jiya or Agent Christopher. A voice she’s not really familiar with but from the way she’s calling Wyatt she just knows. Jessica. It’s all still murmur on her ears but she got the jist of it. She’s calling Wyatt to help her on something. She heard wyatt sigh, surprisingly that part is clear.

She wanted to reach out, to ask him to stay. But she couldn’t even keep her eyes open for more than five minutes, so the idea of physically reaching out for him is completely exhausting on it’s own. She stayed still, eyes still close, and listen for their footsteps to fade away. It’s not until then that she realize she doesn’t feel any physical pains anymore. But the emotional strain she’s now currently have is too much and if it’s possible more painful than getting stabbed. She took a sharp intake of breath and had let the pain slowly ease her back to slumber, and for the first time since the mission back from Salem, sleep didn’t come as quickly as it normally does.

It has now become normal to not remember a thing whenever she open her eyes, but right now she sense that she should be grateful for it. Like not remembering is actually better than remembering how she must have embarrassed herself with her hallucinations or something more horrific. Except ‘soup’, that thought has stuck with her through this whole ordeal and it has now started to feel comforting. Soup. And for the first time in days, she doesn’t even know what day is it, she actually wants soup. She felt something removed from her forehead, something cold and wet. With more force that it normally takes she tried opening her eyes, blinked a few times until an image of Jiya sitting besides her on the bed is no longer blurry.

“Hey. You’re awake.” she’s closed her eyes again, but she could totally hear the mirth on her voice. “Fever dropped, that’s a good sign.”

That’s when it hit her. Last time she was temporary awake, he was here. Wyatt was here.

“Wyatt?” its was out of her lips before she even register it happening.

“He’s on a mission.” That did it, now she’s awake.

“He went without me?”

Jiya figuring out that this might really be it, she’s out of the woods and could finally processed everything. “You were stabbed with a knife full of 17th century germs and running a 105 fever, remember?” she reminded her while she tried to peel off the tape that has somehow made itself permanent on her skin.

“I don’t care. He shouldn’t have gone without me.” she let out in between wincing for pain., medical tape are painful to remove, why do we use it on people already in so much pain?

“Flynn’s pinch hitting. I’m sure he and Wyatt have everything under control.” Jiya is avoiding her eyes.

“Sure, what could go wrong?”

“Would’ve been weird anyway, right? You and Wyatt on a trip?” She finally looked at her “Rufus told me. About Hollywood. You. Wyatt.” She’s also finally looking at Jiya. “Sounded pretty romantic.”

Jessica.

She finally remember Jessica.

“I didn’t know that he was still married.” she says more to herself really. “I mean, I didn’t know that Jessica was--”

“Alive again?” Jiya cut her off. “I know. I wasn’t judging.”

Jiya went back to her task, she doesn’t even realize she was changing her bandage until she saw her grab the god awful medical tape again.

“I just…” Jiya continued. “I just mean it must be hard. Especially with her here.”

Oh yeah, that too. “I want him to be happy.” again she’s voicing it out loud more for herself than for the other woman tending at her wounds. “I mean, this is what he’s always wanted. So...”

“What about what you want?” Jiya cut her off again, and all of a sudden she miss being woozy, of being able to doze of just by closing her eyes.

“Were still friends. We’ll have the missions. I’ll be fine.” She’s also surprise with herself that this are all just coming out of her so naturally. She made an effort to sit up, surprising the other woman on the bed.

“Take it easy.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine.” she waved her off.

“Don’t be a hero today.” Jiya warned.

“No heroics. I’m just gonna get some tea.”

Because to be honest she’s not really fine, her body is still sore, she’s worried for the boys on mission right now but she’s also glad to be strong enough to get out of bed and make herself a cup of tea. So that’s what she’ll do, make herself a warm cup of tea and try to sort out all that is happening right now with a less foggy point-of-view.

[kacchanislife]

hi! welcome! my good friend sent me here, so why not? may I please get a scenario of Bakugo's very pregnant s/o that got bitten by a venomous snake and is like a life or death situation? that would be awesome! thank you!

 I got you!!! Also thank you so much for the request, I love you already. I hope I do right by you on this scenario. 

Warnings: angst, cursing, death of a baby/stillborn

Quick mention: this is gonna x reader, so I will be using ‘you’ and stuff!

This totally slipped from my hands, I’m so sorry. I hope you enjoy and that it’s good!

It was just like any other day for you, the same as it always is on a Saturday morning while Bakugou was off being a hero, a stroll through the park (a really lose term you use because it’s more like a miniature forest with a path and some benches) you lived by before getting some sweets from the local bakery. It was getting a little harder for you to do the same walk you always did due to the very present and large bump in your stomach marking you as pregnant. 8 ½ months pregnant to be exact and with a certain explodo man’s child as well. 

So there you were, perfectly content on your stroll through the park, just like every Saturday morning. You pause to take a mouthful of water from the water bottle you brought and enjoy the calm ambiance of the tall trees and grasses around you. It was soothing and a very stark contrast to your husband’s personality, but you do cut him a little slack on that front because he’s been trying very hard with you being pregnant. After taking another gulp of water, you screw the cap back on and resume your walk. The standard Saturday. 

You had nearly finish your walk when you feel a very sudden and sharp pain in your calf. You glance around quickly and before you even you, a pro hero, could comprehend what was happening another sharp sting hits your leg. This time you see exactly what causes the pain, a snake, a Mamushi snake to be exact and you start to freak. Your body finally kicks into high gear and you start sprinting for your life, the nearest hospital is 30 minutes away and you are at least 5 minutes away from any civilization; which doesn’t seem like a long time until you remember that a Mamushi is the most venomous snake in Japan and while only roughly 10 deaths occur a year and you are heavily pregnant. 

You are not only fearing for your life but also your unborn child’s life, which might’ve been the only thing making you sprint faster than you have ever been able to since you being pregnant. You know you don’t have a long time until the venom really starts to kick in and you wished with all your might that for once you weren’t so stubborn about routines and stayed in bed today. Minutes later you came careening into the first person you saw, spluttering, “Call an ambulance!”

No one disagreed with you, a very distraught pregnant woman with hair flying up everywhere. It wasn’t until they saw the blood on your leg did they seem to realize the severity of your distress and the situation. You could see multiple people whip out cellphones and multiple more coming to your side to help you calm down and to wrap the bite mark. Ice in a little baggy was brought to you to press against the bite marks, but you could feel the venom spreading in your body already. It burned and you would no doubt be unable to walk on your leg for weeks. 

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you were carted off to the hospital, the swelling in your leg was worse than the time you broke it and that terrified you. Shaky and sweaty hands texted Bakugou, but you were sure he was already being contacted once they got ahold of your ID. An oxygen mask was put around your face and that was the last thing you remember other than the pain before blacking out. 

—-

It wasn’t until several hours later that you awoke. Your head hurt, your mouth was dry, you leg hurt- in fact your entire body hurt in a way that made you panic. The heart monitor jumped and that’s when you noticed Bakugou, still in his hero outfit, jump up from a chair he was sitting in to hold you in his arms and cry. Yes, your husband who was known as the angriest hero around who never showed a weakness, much less cry, was crying. You were crying then too, holding on to him as tightly as your weakened body would allow you to. 

“You fucking idiot,” came his ragged voice. He clearly had been crying before this too. “What did I fucking tell you? What did I say about that fucking park you love to walk in so much?!” You knew he wasn’t really angry at you, you knew he was more upset at himself than anything that you were ever in any danger- pro hero yourself or not. 

You couldn’t force any words from your throat and only grip him tighter. You were so scared and you were tired and in pain, but he was here and you knew you could get through any of the effects with him by your side. It didn’t help that you noticed a disturbing amount of closeness between the two you, something you haven’t been able to experience since you hit 6 months. 

You didn’t even have to look to know. You just knew, you knew, and you hear the heart monitor rise and start beeping uncontrollably. You lost your child. You felt it in your bones, no wonder your body hurt so much. It was grieving the loss of a part of you. You didn’t want to imagine the pain your baby must’ve been in or how lifeless they looked being pulled from your body. You didn’t want to imagine how Bakugou must’ve felt all by himself seeing it all. 

More tears escaped your eyes and you were sobbing in his arms while his tears dripped into your hair. The noise of feet rushing across the floor hit your ears and soon nurses and a doctor were in the room to see the sad sight. You lost your child and you hadn’t even gotten to see them, you lost them and you still don’t know if they were a boy or a girl because you wanted it to be a surprise. The doctor knew there was not separating Bakugou from you and vice versa, he had to deal with the angry man from the start of the horror, but you did need to calm down and he had nodded to a nurse to administer some sedatives through your IV. 

You saw Bakugou’s pained and tear stained face as you started to lose consciousness again. He kisses you softly on the forehead before whispering a name in your ear as you black out, “Akane.” 

A baby girl. 

[cardshcrp]

FIVE TIMES KISSED

FIVE TIMES KISSED.

@prctettcre // BILL WEASLEY // always selectively accepting !

                                                                                                                     i.

         So it isn’t his most graceful moment in the world when he yelps and nearly topples right off his seat, but that’s just what happens when someone pops up when you’re half-dozing, which he’d been plenty guilty of. Bill hardly notices, swings himself right onto the bench to face Remy, straddling the wood as he details his latest escapade. 

Remy’s groggy brain finally catches up, realizes it’s the boy he’s spoken to a few times, can tentatively call a friend even if it’s only been a couple of weeks since he’d arrived. And maybe it’s the sunshine keeping him drowsy enough to forget that not everyone follows the customs he’d grown up with, or maybe it’s the vague need to make Bill stop and slow down so he can actually comprehend the elaborate scenario being laid out for him, but - 

He leans in, fingers curling around Bill’s shoulder, and brushes his lips to one freckled cheek and then the other, the chatter cutting off abruptly.

“Bisous,” he offers belatedly once he pulls back and sees the look of frank astonishment on Bill’s face as he stares at him. It’s only then he realizes that maybe this doesn’t carry over for Brits, he isn’t quite sure - and that even if it did he probably should have done bises and not bisous for a new friend, but he’s always been affectionate - but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Bill just grins at the way Remy’s going pink all down his throat and starts his story over. 

Remy decides later that day that he rather wants to keep Bill Weasley and that he’s quite fun, mostly spurred on by the fact that they construct a very elaborate prank to play on one of the snobbier Slytherins over dinner, and maybe also because when Bill next bounds up to him, he stops to give Remy bisous.

                                                                                                                    ii.

         When Bill had offered Remy a place to come for winter holiday, he hadn’t been sure exactly what he’d expected, but the reality of it was much better. The Weasleys make everything feel like home, which is rather odd because he already has one, but he doesn’t bother questioning it. 

Neither does Jean-Luc, who’s mostly just pleased his son has made friends, though Henri is the practical one that gives Remy an extra deposit to stay in England instead of coming back between their father’s scattered cheers and enthusiasm.

Instead, he lets himself get swept off in the humdrum whirlwind of activity that is life at the Burrow, sure to stick cold finger and toes on Bill’s ankles and cheeks every morning and laugh out a good morning one each to Molly and Arthur. He also makes sure that Ron gets a liberal amount of tummy tickles, and he learns not to protest very much when Bill is put in charge of dressing him the once they venture into Ottery St. Catchpole, because as it turns out Remy is wonderfully good at wizard fashion and a disaster at the ordinary kind.

It’s easy to settle into a scratchy sweater and kick his friend half out of his place until they can scrunch in together on the couch. It’s easy to yelp when the twins latch onto his legs in a coordinated attack and bring him tumbling down. 

It’s easy to kiss Bill properly for the first time when they’re back on Hogwarts grounds with snow stuck to their hair and scarves, easy as breathing to wrap his arms around the other boy’s neck and just steal his lips without an ounce of hesitation. 

Later he wonders what he’d been thinking, because he could have ruined everything, but it doesn’t matter so much then either because he’s got his fingers laced through Bill’s and his head on his shoulder, and it all fits pretty nice.

                                                                                                                   iii.

          He’s panicking. That’s the first thing his very helpful brain tells him, which really makes everything worse, but there isn’t a whole lot he can do about it because he’s on one knee and ow the gravel drive is really taking its vengeance out on him, but he’s staying put, damn it.

Served him right for being to chicken to go according to plan, anyway. If he had, he would’ve dropped down an hour ago before they headed home from the Muggle concert he’d gotten them tickets for (which was, as usual, some band that Bill very much liked and Remy thought was nice but had no brain space to remember the name of).

“Uh,” he starts, very eloquently, and cracks open the ring box - it’s simple enough, really, just a gold band inlaid with tiny, complex patterns that shifted and changed with movement, but that sudden sinking weight of what if he doesn’t like it settles deep in his belly anyway. “I thought, um - since the world is going to shit, and you know I love you, and I meant to do it a little while ago but I got nervous. And, um, uh, if it doesn’t fit or you don’t like it, that’s totally fine, I don’t know if it will fit anyway, I tried to guess the size just holding your hand and this was a horrible idea, I am so sorry - ”

Bill is just staring, mouth half-open and jaw working wordlessly as he stutters something incomprehensible, and suddenly Remy is that much more anxious because oh no, he sees more ginger heads peeking just barely out of the Burrow and this was the worst idea, absolutely terrible, he’s about to get dumped in front of the whole Weasley tribe and suddenly he can’t tell if he’s speaking in English or French but he would bet it was the latter and - 

That’s about when Bill decides to slap a gentle palm over Remy’s mouth and haul him up to his feet. “Yes, I will happily marry you,” he tells him, and then he kisses the absolute hell out of his stupid French fiancé, who very nearly faints on the spot in absolute relief, not that he would ever admit it.

It’s alright, though, because they’re equally embarrassed when they make it back into the house and have enthusiastic questions and congratulations peppered off of them, and it’s quite enough that Remy’s hair (though not the rest of him because angry is the last thing he is at the moment) catches fire in half a minute, and that’s a whole fiasco in and of itself.

                                                                                                                    iv.

          His hands are sooty and stained, bloody too, when they go back to looking like his own hands and not twisted with claws. They’re also shaking, all the noise and clamor lost in the way his ears are ringing but he does hear one thing, and he recognizes Jean-Luc’s face hovering before his, warm eyes anxious as he brushes hair flaking ashy remnants of dye away from his son’s face. 

“You hear that, boy? He’s alive. Go. Je l’ai.” And really, what did it say that they’d put up shields, hidden him in the middle of a dying battlefield for losing his temper in all that rage and grief and oh, no, he’d done it, hadn’t he? Remy’s eyes dart to Charlie’s face, and he swallows hard, but he’s already reaching for the younger boy’s outstretched hand. 

After all, his father was good at memory spells. If even one person left remembering what they’d seen, it would be strange - and there was time to worry later.

Alive. Alive. Alive. 

He keeps turning the word over in his head, a half-prayer as they stumble off and make their way to the infirmary. It’s the only word that matters when unsteady fingers drift over the gashes on Bill’s face, not touching for fear of infection - it’s the only thing he thinks when he looks up to see Molly staring at him with some kind of wariness on her face, like she’s expecting something bad from him; he doesn’t have anything else in his head, can’t process what that means. 

“He’s going to be okay,” he rasps, and it comes out like a question, more hopeful than maybe is allowed and god, he’s fucking terrified. He’s so small all of a sudden, or he feels it, squashed with the weight of all that fear and fuck, just fuck, but the next thing he knows he’s getting swept into a big warm hug (the Weasley specialty, innit) and they’re both crying all over each other but that’s alright too.

Remy loses track of how long it takes for Bill to wake up - days, probably - but when he does, it’s with a whole lot of anxious family hovering over him, and the first thing he says is “My face hurts,” sounding vaguely indignant. It’s enough to earn him several eye rolls and sighs of oh, he’s fine - Remy opts for bursting into tears of relief. He hadn’t meant to, but he does, and Bill looks awfully startled, but he can’t help it.

It takes a while longer for everyone else to filter out, but they eventually do, leaving Bill to rest and Remy to settle back into the chair at his side. Before he does, he leans in, brushes careful lips over the corner of his fiancé’s mouth, fingers curled under his jaw so soft he thinks he can pick up the ache from all the torn flesh above. 

“You’re an idiot,” he tells him, tart, and Bill shakes a little with a laugh he can’t quite get out without it hurting. “You picked me. Who’s the idiot now?”

                                                                                                                     v.

          Ras Abu Gali is very much off the beaten path for Muggles, let alone wizards, and the local Bedouin are friendly enough that they stay there awhile; they are strange no matter what they do, so Remy doesn’t bother to dye his hair and lets it hang to his waist like moonlight though he does cover it most days. 

It’s comfortable, he thinks, the way he can roll over under heavy travelling blankets to kiss Bill awake, weave long fingers through red hair and press a scarred cheek to his collarbone and fall back asleep. It’s nice, actually, that he dresses in stupid loud colors and glaringly mismatched patterns and no one cares at all even if Bill rolls his eyes at the worst combinations. 

He ducks his head down, bites soft at his husband’s ear with a low hum, a chuckle slipping from him at the answering grumble of protest. Bill tugs the cover up over their sleep-rumpled heads to block out the light, and Remy kisses him, still smiling.

“Vite-vite, wake up,” he murmurs, and pinches Bill’s side gentle, rolling them until he’s resting atop him with chin settled nice and neat on his hands. “We need to pack. We’re going back to visit today, remember?”

Bill sighs, and Remy presses warm lips to the underside of his half-sweaty jaw, thumbs tracing warm circles over his ribs until he finally shifts, toppling Remy onto his back instead and pinning him there. 

“Five more minutes,” he sighs against Remy’s skin, and with a snort Remy gives in, wrapping his arms tight around him like he really minds at all. Five more minutes.

And then if he didn’t get up, Remy would shove ice down his pants.

[khiphop-stories]

Umbrella - Chapter IV

[Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III]

Lesson Four: A Little Gesture of Kindness

[Christian Yu, DPR Live]

You lost count of how many times you had already snoozed your alarm. If it were up to you, you would just lie around in bed lazily for the rest of the day, catching up on your very much needed sleep. You weren’t able to close your eyes at all last night. The horrifying images of the movie kept popping up in your head and you could have sworn that you heard noises from outside, but you were too afraid to check; so you just hid yourself under the blanket, hoping the night would pass by quickly.

However, sleeping all day wasn’t an option. There were just too many obligations you had to meet. Letting out a long breath, you slowly sat up straight. When you heard clanking noises coming from outside of your room, you immediately jumped out of the bed and rushed into the living room with excitement.



“Hana! You’re back!” You shouted joyfully and gave her a big hug. Surprised by your warm welcome which was very unlike you, she gave you a weird look. One of her hands was holding her bowl of cereal, cautious not to let the milk swap over, while the other was tapping your shoulders reluctantly.

“Why are you still here? Aren’t you supposed to be in university?”

“No, I have a job interview today… and I should probably hurry up,” you said after a short glance at the watch on your wrist.



“Another job?” She arched up her eyebrows at you as you headed to the bathroom.

 You had taken on a variety of jobs ever since Hana had gotten to know you. From babysitting to delivery, you had done it all, before finally settling for working as a waitress in a luxury restaurant. They payment was enough to live by. Thus you didn’t have to keep the other part-time jobs anymore.

“It’s an unpaid internship, but the company’s huge. If I they offer me a permanent position after my internship, I’ll never have to worry about money again,” you told her with a smile, before disappearing behind the door to the bathroom.

~*~



After taking one last glance at the mirror, you nodded your head confidently and told yourself encouraging words. You could do it. It was just an interview. You simply had to be yourself. There was no need to be nervous.  Hana gave you a supportive thumbs up and wished you luck.

You grabbed your bag from the floor and put on your heels. Then you opened the door, ready to head outside. At the other side of the door Dabin was standing with his arm raised and his hand clenched to a fist, as though he was just about to knock. Your eyes widened in surprise and so did his. 



“Wow…” his mouth dropped open.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion.



“You look really pretty,” he mumbled under his breath and you stared at him dumbfounded, wondering why he would suddenly tell you something like this. But then you remembered that you had dolled yourself up, because of the interview and it was probably his first time seeing you like this.

Living right across the hallway, he witnessed you in all kind of ridiculous states. The I-just-woke-up, the I-haven’t-washed-my-hair-for-days, the I’m-literally-dead and many more, however, it was his first time seeing you all dressed up with full on make up on your face.


“Do you need something?” You broke the awkward silence.



“Oh right!” He shook his head violently as though he had just woken up from trance. “We’re out of eggs and—“



“Sure, just come in, Hana’s in the living room,” you smiled at him and took a step aside, leaving the door open for him to pass through.



“Are you going on a date?” He asked you with curiosity in his voice.



“Dressed like this?” You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. “What kind of dates are you going on? That’s way too formal for a date!”

“I have a job interview,” you explained.



“Well that’s way too pretty for an interview! Are you trying to seduce them?” He replied with a laugh. Although you tried to conceal the nervousness that grew with every second, it was pretty obvious and he had noticed it immediately. Thus, he tried to ease your tension with a light joke and also boost up your confidence.

“It nothing works, that will be my last resort,” you responded playfully, giving him a wink. “But I really gotta go now,” you hurriedly waved at him and dashed into the direction of the elevator.

“Good luck, Jenn!” He shouted after you encouragingly. 

~*~

It was the same route that you walked every single morning and every night. The route from your apartment to the bus station and the other way round. In the morning you could barely keep your eyes open. You always walked along the roads with heavy steps and your eyelids almost closed while regretting not going to sleep earlier. At night, you were so worn out from work that your body felt numb, so you walked along the short path being half-alive and half-dead while your brain and soul had already passed into a different dimension.

However, today you strolled back to your apartment with light steps and a big grin on your face, feeling content with yourself. It seemed as though you were finally getting somewhere in your life. All of your hard work was finally starting to show results.

Just a couple of meters in front of the entrance you bumped into Dabin again who was accompanied by Christian. They two of them were probably heading out for work. Sometimes you envied them, they were their own bosses. They could choose when to work and what to do, depending on their mood. But that didn’t mean they were slacking, they were so passionate about their work, it was impressive. Dabin had shown you some of his tracks a couple of times and you always admired his talent. He was constantly writing new songs. Christian also put in so much work to make their little company grow. He had meetings almost every other day and he stayed up all night, editing videos and creating concept ideas. Their passion was burning and you secretly admired them for it.

But, the courage they had to pursue their dreams and the risks and uncertainty that came along, wasn’t something you possessed. You preferred the safe way, the quickest path to success, to money.

Christian and Dabin both raised their eyebrows at you when they saw you. The two of them had an amused expression plastered across their faces. 


“You seem to be in a good mood,” Christian laughed.

“I got the position!” You told them enthusiastically, a wide grin curling up on your red lips.



“Oh! Congratulations!” They both said in unison and gave you a warm congratulatory hug. 

After having a little small talk, you bid goodbye, heading into the opposite direction. 
You were opening the door of the entrance, when Christian called your name out of the sudden, making you swirl around again. You gave him a questioning look and waited for him to say something.



“You should smile more often. It suits you,” he told you as his lips curved upwards.

~*~

Today was one of the very rare days where you didn’t have to go to work on a Friday night. At first you thought about taking a long bath and burying your head in a good book. However, your friends had different plans for you in mind. 
There was a Halloween party at the club and they insisted that you should join them. For one, because you haven’t been able to spend much time with them due to juggling between your part-time job and your studies and in addition to that, they also wanted to celebrate you getting the internship in one of Korea’s biggest conglomerates. Their selection process was known to be extremely though. Some of your classmates had tried it before, but none of them ever managed to pass the second round. You did wonder why they had chosen you. 
Your grades were good, but of course there was always someone who was better than you. You attended a prestigious university, but so did your classmates and they didn’t pass. So that couldn’t be the reason either.
 You had great social skills and you were convinced they liked the answers you gave to even the most tricky questions, however, in such a competitive society, even that wouldn’t have been enough. You had nothing in you résumé that was particularly outstanding or special. Neither did you have a powerful family to back you up. But maybe, it was the combination of all that. Maybe it was your hard work that finally got acknowledge. Maybe your perseverance and your ambition were finally paying off; or maybe it was just pure luck.

You had no idea why they settled for you, but you didn’t care very much either. It didn’t matter. In the end you got the spot and if you did well, they would hire your for a permanent position. That was all that mattered to you for now. 

~*~

So here you were, all dressed up in a room filled with sweaty people and loud trap music. 


Clubbing wasn’t your really your “thing”, but you had to admit it was a lot fun with the right people. It felt good to forget about everything that weighed you down once it while and alcohol always did a great job in achieving that.

You were on the dance floor with your friends and a drink in your hands, moving your body along to the beat when they announced a new DJ. They shouted his name into the mic, hyping up the crowd and you immediately turned your head to the DJ booth. He was someone you knew and had a lot of respect for. Someone you looked up to. He was the first person you had met in university as he was assigned as your mentor. Since then he had become a great source of support to you. Not only regarding things involving your studies, but also personal matters. However, one day he just wasn’t there anymore. He dropped out to focus on his career in the music business and it was hard to keep in touch with him.



“I’ll go say hello real quick,” you shouted into your friend’s ear and pointed to the heightened platform.

You tried to weave through the crowd and it was harder than you thought. There was a lot of booty-grabbing and dick-grinding and some point some guy even stopped you, trying to push his tongue down your throat, but luckily you managed to escape just in time. There was a security guard standing right next to the booth. He saw you coming into his direction so he threw you a glare. Intimidated by his strong build, you dismissed the idea straightaway. You took a step back and were about to retreat, when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You immediately turned your head around and were greeted by a big smile.

“You gotta stop creeping up on me like that,” you laughed at him. 



“Why? You wanna punch me again?” He crossed his arms over his chest, sheltering himself from any possible attacks.

“No, I wouldn’t dare hit a cat. That would be animal abuse,” you let out a chuckle as your eyes wandered to the little black cat ears on top of his head.

“Hyeri made me wear it,” he let out an embarrassed chuckled and immediately removed the headband from his head. “Why? Don’t take it off. It looks cute,” you made fun of him with a grin on your lips. “You wear it, I’ll just say I lost it,” he put the black thing on your head. “What do you want to do about the whiskers though?” You pointed to the black lines on his cheeks. 

“I can’t hide my inner cat, huh?” He laughed out loud while rolling his eyes.

“You wanna go backstage?” He then asked you out of the blue, remembering why he approached you in the first place.

“Not really, I just wanted to say hi to Ju Kyung,” you told him.

“You know him?” He looked at you, surprised that you didn’t refer to him by his stage name. You nodded your head briefly in response. Usually you would explain how you got to know him, but it was too loud in the club to have a proper conversation, especially since you two were standing close to the speakers. Christian gave a sign to the security guard who then immediately helped you to get through the crowd to the backstage area. You wanted to thank Christian, but when you turned around he was already gone. Shrugging your shoulders you walked to the DJ booth. The moment Ju Kyung saw you, he immediately reached his hands out, to help you get onto the platform. 

You did a little chitchat with him, catching up a bit and then returned to the place where your friends were. 

That night, you also spotted Dabin in the crowd and he acknowledged your presence with a bright smile and a nod. It was odd just how many coincidental encounters you had with them. Ever since they became you neighbors you bumped into them seemingly everywhere. It was a little world, wasn’t it?

~*~

After dancing and moving around so much, your body began dehydrating and you became thirsty. It was time to get some liquid into your system, preferably something strong. Walking over to the bar you raised your arms to signal the bartender that you wanted to order something, but instead of taking you order he placed a cocktail in front of you without words.

That was quick, you thought. You hadn’t been at the bar for even a full second and somebody was already trying to hit on you?

“Who is it from?” You asked the bartender and he just pointed to the note under the glass in response.

You lifted the glass and took the piece of paper in between your fingers. A smile curled onto your lips when you read what was written on it.



“Congratulations on your internship! Enjoy yourself! You deserved it! :) 
— Dabin

  P.S. Thought I was a creep, didn’t you lol
                  You can drink it without any worries, I didn’t put anything inside :P”

[tink-bell]

Write a crack!ship au for one of your characters. Definition of a crackship: seriously this shit can’t happen but in an alternate universe

let me just say this disturbs me on SO MANY LEVELS i feel dirty and this isn’t even that dirty of a thing !! 

AKA

Four times Tinker most definitely did not hook up and one time that they did.

I.

The party was loud and there was so many sweaty bodies. Tink was in the midst of them, loud bass thrumming through her body and only enhancing the high she currently felt. Nights like these were her favorite. Everything blurred together blending into one colorful evening accentuated with loud music and the feel of skin pressed together.

How many people had she enticed? How many had enticed her? There was no real way to tell. All she knew was that at some point a sensory overload had occurred and she had to get away. The newly dyed green haired pixie knew that if she didn’t she’d end up near fucking someone on what they called the dance floor. Really it was nothing more than a large living room with all the furniture pushed out of the way to create ample space for everyone to congregate and gyrate.

It was on this short breather that Tink first caught sight of the tall gangly boy. He was surrounded by a group of four, maybe five; the way Tink’s vision kept swimming certainly wasn’t helping her keep count but that didn’t matter. They were faces that she recognized from Pixie’s and from her classes at Uni. One boy she’d hooked up with multiple times, a girl she’d seen giving furtive glances. But it wasn’t any of those that mattered. It was the tall one, a barely there smirk on his lips as he smoked, that had drawn her attention. She moved quickly, with purpose, to stand in front of him. “Mind if I bum one?” She motioned to the cigarette that dangled between his lips with a raised eyebrow before grinning as he offered her one. 

She lit it easily with the offered lighter and then moved to lean against the low wall they were perched near. Discreetly she eyed him, taking him in further now that she was closer and he wasn’t wishy washy the way he had been. Spotting his shirt, she smirked fuller, even going so far as to huff a laugh. At the raised eyebrow she shook her head before speaking. “Bigmouth Strikes Again,” she said simply, nodding to the boy and his shirt.

II.

The second time they meet they’re both scavenging the racks of Scat Cat’s music shoppe. It was Tink’s day off from Pixie and she’d decided that it was high time to update her music collection. Not that it wasn’t banging anyways. Her taste in music was magnificent, even if she did say so herself. If it was recorded during the seventies or eighties, Tink had it. That was her niche.

There had been a rumor that Scat Cat had gotten something in that was precious and something she’d been looking for. It was the ‘67 London LP of Their Satanic Majesties Request and God was it beautiful. It would round out her collection and she was certainly ready to dish out the money for it. Even if it meant being a mite late on her rent that month. It’d be alright because the sweet, sweet voice of Mick Jagger could lull her into a false sense of security any day.

Course fate or whatever other bullshit you believed in would have it’s say as she neared the designated section for such a beauty. Lo’ and behold tall and gangly from a few weeks before was there, long spindly fingers traipsing over covers like they were piano keys. Tink immediately wondered what else those fingers were good at before inwardly chiding herself. Wouldn’t do to get all worked up inside of a record store with no one to help take care of her sudden need. There wasn’t even a dingy bathroom to retreat to with a stranger for a quickie.

Never the one to shy away from a cute boy or girl, Tink soldiered on. She wanted the vinyl, after all. And if she came away with a phone number there was nothing wrong with that.

“I’ll have to fight you if you take the Stones album. I’ve been waiting for Scat to get that in for ages,” she whispered, leaning close to him before taking a quick step back. Her face was alight with mirth and she waited for him to respond, grinning when he muttered about music elitists and hipsters, to which Tink took mock offense. “I may be a music elitist but I am no hipster, I assure you... I never did catch you’r name, you know.” She moved to stand next to him, her own fingers moving through the vinyls until she found what she was looking. For a moment she lingered, thinking he wasn’t going to answer her, before turning to head towards the register. “Berlioz. It’s, uh, it’s Berlioz.” He finally gave away, causing Tink to flash him a wide grin over her shoulder. “Tink. Catch you around, Berlioz.”

III.

It’s some months before Tink and Berlioz cross paths again. So much so that Tink begins to think he was just an illusion. A beautiful illusion that her mind made up to combat the fact she’s felt rather lonely the past couple of months. Not that there hadn’t been many that had graced her bed but other than that she felt she was missing something. A something she didn’t like to ever really examine because she was determined to be the free spirit she’d always been. There was no time for any sort of commitment. The biggest commitment in her life was Pixie’s and she had intended for it to stay that way.

Now when things became too much, when Tink felt that her thoughts would swallow her whole, she repeated the same pattern. Wallow for a bit the get high then grab a bottle of her favorite tequila then make her way to the park. Nothing stopped her in her quest. Not rain or snow or really windy days. The day it all eclipsed inside of her it was a wonderfully sunny day, odd for fall but Tink would take it, with billowy clouds that took shape. Blissed out of her mind, Tink had decided it’d be the perfect day to lay outside on the grass, head propped up by her tattered jean jacket.

Unlike the other times their paths had crossed, Berlioz approached Tink. There was no mistaking the bright hair of the faerie nor the absolutely tattered clothes she wore. The small faerie was so out of her mind that didn’t even really notice another had joined her until that deep voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. “Finding any cool shapes?” He’d asked. At the question Tink had laughed, instinctively curling towards the presence. “Found a crab with a top hat earlier. He looked right posh,” she hummed, resting her head against his shoulder as he laid out beside her.

They laid like that for what felt like only minutes, each one pointing out ridiculous cloud shapes and giggling, before the sun began to set. It made Tink sigh out softly as she stirred, blinking heavy eyes in the process. Really, she had felt comfortable with Berlioz, content to just lay there as her high worked it’s way through her. As it faded, though, she felt a sense of dread at having to walk away from this rather nice afternoon with him. “Feel like comin’ back to mine? Got some MJ and really good music. Unless you’re too cool to hang out with a music elitist,” she smirked. That smirk turned to a grin as Berlioz stood and nodded, motioning for her to lead the way.

IV.

Tink and Ber were nearly inseparable. Where one went the other could soon be found. Their now mutual friends called them disgusting, swore that sooner or later they’d get together. What they didn’t know though. Spoilers, darlings. Regardless, the pair spent more time together than they did apart. Tink wouldn’t have had it any other way. That place inside of her that had felt empty for so long, no longer felt that way. Slowly it had been filling, making instead a home for a certain tall and gangly boy.

It didn’t matter that there was an almost considerable age difference. Tink being twenty-four and Berlioz being just barely eighteen. What mattered was that they were comfortable around each other. Didn’t feel the need to pretend. They spent hours curled together, high as fuck, listening to music; new and old. It was all pretty G rated but TInk didn’t mind. This one relationship was fine without sex. It didn’t need to be defined by that because it just felt-- right.

But around the fifth month of their ‘hanging’ out dating Tink got her first inkling that things might actually progress to that level.

They’d gone to the Next Town Over for a proper night out. One that they didn’t have to be interrupted by any of their friends. God knew they’d crashed many a date in the past and really, Tink just wanted Berlioz to herself; just as much as Berlioz wanted Tink to himself. There wasn’t much of the movie that they could remember, most of it had been spent with eyes closed and lips pressed together, but from what they had seen it looked pretty boring. Something they could report to their friends when they eventually made their way back to Swynlake.

Phones shut off and retired to Tink’s flat for the evening, everything was going rather well. Tink had turned on the heater because it was cold as hell but they had still forgone most of their clothes as they laid buried under a fort of covers on her bed. Again, eyes had been closed and lips pressed together as hands roamed and explored, each set mapping out their partner with immense concentration.

Course that was when their friends most definitely used the key under the mat and came barging in, interrupting said explorations with very little dignity. Pouting while trying to cover her more exposed bits, she looked towards Berlioz with exasperation on her features as the gang all crowded around. “We need new friends.”

V.

While Tink had proven that most things come about from spontaneity, sometimes she liked to plan things. Those things included birthday celebrations, graduation celebrations, and other such things. Her favorite, of course, being birthdays. Luck had it that hers and Berlioz’s were mere days apart. Which meant that there were three days in which they could celebrate. An entire glorious weekend to be spent celebrating between their friends, themselves, and their family.

Two of those groups were quite tiring. So tiring. Especially family. Berlioz’s family definitely didn’t like her and Tink’s family was very partial to him. Best to say they’d be avoiding familial engagements altogether. 

It was their friends that proved to be the most tiring. The gang had all come together for a massive night out. There was booze, there was drugs, there were so many body pressed together until they all became one. It was an epic celebration. Something fit for the two of them. Only they would have preferred to be have celebrated by themselves. Something small rather than large and raucous. It was nice, though, and they thoroughly enjoyed the time spent with friends and each other; the two of them pressed tight together in an attempt to shut out the world.

The last of the celebrations were their favorite. It was just them, hidden from the world in Berlioz’s studio. He’d wanted to show Tink something and she readily agreed. In her opinion Berlioz would be the next Bowie or Prince. He had an ear she wished she’d had. An ear and an ability to put different components together into something... incredible. Plus she loved being able to say that she was dating a musician. Something only made better by the way Ber looked whenever he had an instrument in hand. Just pure bliss, nirvana right there in front of her.

But just as she could get side tracked in his music, she could also get side tracked in him. In the way his lips felt against hers or the steady and sure way his hands moved along her body. Tink was not a firm believer in delayed gratification, she preferred her gratification instant thank you very much, but this... Putting this off with Berlioz, all those interruptions and delays, it had been worth it. Every single nerve ending was on fire, bringing her nothing but complete pleasure as they went along slowly. 

Clothes were discarded slowly, not carefully, thrown over chairs and equipment. There was laughter and teasing quips as they both chased something that was always just out of their reach. It was built up passion, desire, want. Everything Tink had been chasing all those months ago built into this one boy who had somehow made a place for himself inside of her, moving constantly within her. It was a push and pull, give and take, both reaching and reaching for release. And when it finally came they collapsed into a heap together, curling around one another until they couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. 

[pinkhoodiemark]

post 10 facts about yourself, and then pass it on to your 10 favourites🌈🍑 (u have the best stories nO PRESSURE)

Ily youre my fv too mel 

alright leggo ( i dont wanna make this too long so ill do 9 short facts and then 1 story!!)

I know how to skateboard but im bad at it (i just wanna be cool and hip and rad ya know)

ive gotten retweeted once by a famous person

im currently (finally) making an Instagram (but im stuck on the part where i have to think of a clever username)

i have an addiction to Coke (the soda; screw pepsi)

the first anime i watched was Death Note and my sister and i mrathoned it in one day

i did gymnastics for 7 years (ages 7 to 14) and i have probably permanent foot damage from it

in middle school i used to ONLY wear graphic tees of cartoons/anime/emo bands. It was a horrible cringy time of my terrible life

i sleep on my bed backwards (my head is where my feet should be) because its the only way i can watch tv shows on my laptop.

I WAITED IN LINE FOR 3 HOURS TO GET THE RICK AND MORTY LIMITED EDITION SZECHUAN SAUCE AT MCDONALDS TODAY BUT THEY RAN OUT AND IM SO SAD AND MAD but i spent a day in detroit and it was nice and fun so its alright now 

Storytime: 

Last year, I went to a rave at a convention with a bunch of friends and my sister.And it was super fun and we were all drunk and having a great time. We all pushed our way to the front where the DJ is, which is the most fun spot to be, but it’s also the most dangerous area to be because that’s where the creeps lurk. As my sister and I are both under 5 ft and very vulnerable to creeps, it’s probably even more sketchy for us, BUT we had two guy friends with us who are tall and fairly strong, so we were fine. So we kept dancing and having a good timeSoon enough, there was this creepyyyyy dude who i saw was eyeing my sister, and my sister is slightly more drunk than i was so she wasn’t really paying attention to this dude. (FIRST lemme explain how this dude looked alright. He looked dis gust ing. He was kind of like a furry. he had the fuzzy hat with the ears on it and the paws. And he was big and looked like he didnt know the first thing about hygiene. Just like this sweaty, messy, gross, dude, alright.) So, continuing, my sister wasn’t paying much attention and it was loud at the rave, so instead of yelling to her and warning her about this guy. I pull her over to my side and i take her spot where she was (which is closer to the dude). I thought it’d be like a “fuck off dont look at my sister you creep.” And it worked!I noticed he stopped looking so i was like great! And then started partying again :Da little time passed and the music is still bumpin and we’re all still dancing and having fun. and all of the sudden that duDE FCKING PULLS YANKS ME OVER TO HIM (im tiny and he is larGe so it was super easy for him which is terrifying)!! And he has this hold on my arm, like SO tight and scaryBut then literally EVERYONE in my group just simultaneously pulls me back, and they all start yelling at this fugly troll. my sister was PISSED. But this dude was like out.of.it. Like he had this look like he did nothing wrong, and basically my guy friends told him ‘dont touch me or my sister’ and he just sort of nodded, which was concerning and un-assuring.Then he like DOESNT GO AWAY. Then one of my guy friends (lemme just say, we’re all still stupid and drunk at this point) was like “fuck it” and he goes up to that dude and he’s like “Yeah, dude, That girl (me), That girl (my sister), and That girl (another girl in my friend group), are ALL my girlfriends so back off.” Like it was the stupidest idea to make this guy back of.. but it worked???? and he like walked?? away?? thank god. But it was like the funniest stupidest thing and im thankful for him to have been there. 

[daily-dose-of-naruto]

This is more of a personal request since I'm struggling really hard at the moment. Can I have a scenario of Sasuke finding out his S/O is recovering from an eating disorder? ( preferably anorexia, with some purging ) if not its okay. If you dont want it on your blog but are comfortable writing this could you send it to me? Thank you ;w;

Now, everybody, you are going to witness one of the long, long, long reflexions Admin Night writes.

This request was sent when the ask box is closed. However, I contacted Admin Shadow and asked her if I could do it. Usually, we tend to forget laws are made to protect us, and that means that, sometimes, the right thing to do is to bend the rules. I know this feels like a weak excuse. But I the truth is I care about you: even if we aren’t very active, all the admins discuss what can we do to make the experience of this blog more enjoyable. We care about you and we care about your problems. If using a bit of my time to write a scenario will make you feel a tiny bit feel better, I will.

Now, the topic of this scenario is difficult. As a first disclaimer, I don’t have an ED. But, I do have had problems with my mental health, and one of the things that helped me the most was fanfiction. I loved reading headcanons, scenarios, fics and all that kind of writings about my disorder, it made feel I belonged to something. Just for that, I wrote this. I tried to make a good research, and to write about the topic in the better way possible. But, as always, if someone feels uncomfortable, they can contact me.

Also,  always remember: you are worthy, you are beautiful, you deserve being here, right now. You are not your bad thoughts, you are not your illness: you can win the war, and the best strategy is loving everything you are. Never beat yourself if recovery doesn’t go smooth, it happens. But you will make it. You are strong and you will make it.

As a final note: this is an AU.

Trigger warnings: Food mention, eating disorders, anorexia, purging.

~Admin Night

[Ten Steps] Sasuke finding out his S/O is recovering from an eating disorder

I

You realized it was an illness that afternoon.  The sky was already turning red, myriads of colors traveled across it: orange and yellow and even a bit of purple splashed it like paint, the clouds soaking in the colors with their cotton-like texture. Red strawberry licorice. Orange cheddar. Yellow fries.  Purple cake icing. You were sitting on the bus-stop, recounting both the conversations of the day and how many numbers you had eaten. It was cold; your skin seemed to shrink with every molecule of air, even with the heavy coat you wore. Your fingers drummed against the metallic seat, how much more you had to wait? Your stomach hurt — your mind always fought between the pain and the sensation of control it produced—, but you ignored it and drank a large gulp of water. Chocolate cake and buttery popcorn.

Today Sasuke had kissed you. His lips were warm and slightly chapped. His hands were feathery. You had closed your eyes and smiled and shivered. But instead of enjoying the way his hair tingled against your forehead, you were thinking about it. Greasy pizza and ramen. You were proud he had kissed you because that meant you were actually beautiful —beautifully thin— and that meant you finally had gotten control over your body.

The sky got darker. Now, there was more than a smidge of purple. Grape Soda. The sun was setting. You heard the bus finally approaching, his motor diluted in the many cars that transited that street. Sugary lemonade, anko, vanilla ice-cream. Today, you weren’t going to eat more, the salad you had eaten with Sasuke was enough.

You stood up slowly. But this time, that didn’t stop the trembling of your knees, or the sudden layer of white that blinded your eyes, or the feeling of death that crossed your head seconds before your hands grasped the floor. Ears buzzed, a high whistle breaking your eardrum. You couldn’t breathe. Air wasn’t in your lungs and an acrid taste was creeping up your throat. In a sudden act of determination you stood up and got on the bus; hands burning and eyes avoiding the driver.

This wasn’t the first time you got dizzy. Nevertheless, in the seat of the bus, observing both your new bruises and the old reddish skin of your knuckles, you felt alone, helpless, vulnerable. There wasn’t any control. You were dying. You were drowning.  

Then, you realized you wanted to breathe, you wanted to fight it.

II    

The meal was laughing at you, pointing its caloric fingers at your chest. Stomach closed, you weren’t hungry. And still, still, all that your mind could think of was creamy chocolate bathing dozen of cookies. If you ate, then grease would clog your veins, fat slowly accumulating under your skin.  But you had to eat; your body was disappearing, you were shrinking into nothingness, and you wanted to live. Or at least, a small part of you, trapped somewhere between your withered organs, did. You wanted to fight for that tiny part. But food meant calories, calories meant fat, fat meant ugly. Those horrible thoughts weren’t your thoughts.

Chest felt heavy. You moved every grain, categorizing them in size, as you had done so many times. You didn’t remember how you felt before this: how life felt before your hands ached, before the pains, before the black hole in the brain.  How did it feel when you were you? You turned your cell phone on. Three numbers greeted you, fifteen minutes had passed since you sat on the table. If you could eat… It was just rice, why were you afraid? If you just could eat. Automatically, your fingers did what you always did to stop with the panic: the app opened under your index command, a list of weights, days and calories appeared on the screen. As you read, those numbers you had already learned crossed your mind. Bowl of rice, 204 calories.  It was too much. You couldn’t eat. Too much. It meant fat. Fat was bad. They would hate you. Sasuke would. But you were going to die and you didn’t know if that was good or bad. You couldn’t eat. Your stomach was glued. But darkness was horrifying. Almost as horrifying as the sky made of strawberry licorice, cheddar, fries and cake icing. The sky that took the control out of you and that was sucking life out of your marrow.

With hands trembling, you let your finger pressing the icon of your inquisitor. Then, it was out of your life. Tears blurred your vision as you gripped to anything that could keep you sane, the light of the screen stabbed your pupils. You put the cell phone on the table and redirected your attention to the rice.

Just a bit. Even after you swallowed, you felt the food trapped in the throat. Maybe you were hurt, you thought while drinking small gulps of water. It was tiresome. You were going to sleep.

Suddenly, your phone rang. Sasuke had sent you a message.

I have a break but Naruto is a dumbass. Call you at night.

Even in the haziness, you smiled.

III

The first thing Sasuke noticed was how your eyes sparkled. How they acquired a sharp quality every time you were remembering or talking with him. He loved it. The day was bright, rays of sun painted patches of the world in a warmer color, clouds floated in a sky made of a surreal blue. Today, the air didn’t seem transparent; it was creamy, softening the acute edges of every object in the world.

“Today’s very hot.” You said. The statement was true, however, it was strange hearing you say that. You always wore wool sweaters and big, heavy jackets. Even in summer.

He feigned returning his attention to you —it was always on you, his eyes were perpetually piercing your soul, even when he hid his face behind a book—. Your long shirt was rolled up, hair tied in a bun, some drops of sweat sliding down your neck. The bottle of water you always carried was empty, resting against the trunk of the tree, as you two were.

“You are right,” He responded. Wind tossed his hair, some leafs flew in the current. “Do you want to eat something cold?”

Sasuke had seen you eat counted times. You maintained a rigid schedule that he didn’t want to disturb.  However, this was the only solution he could think of. You were already in the shadow; a big cherry tree was protecting you from the sun. There wasn’t a better place to stay in Konoha’s Park.

“We could buy something for the two.” You pronounced the words before your mind could process it. That something meant ice-cream, and as you realized what you had said, a small hole began to grow in your belly. You dreaded the colorful stall placed in the middle of the park. What if you couldn’t eat? And the sweet? It was bad.

“Okay.”

Sasuke didn’t like ice-cream, he preferred salty foods. Nevertheless, he wanted to make you happy, and taking into account your difficult relation with food, it was good you wanted something cold to eat.

And your mind screamed as both of you walked to the vendor. This was okay, it was recovery. You didn’t process what flavor was chosen, merely assenting to the man’s suggestion. Sasuke received the cone and paid. This was okay. After days of anxiety, you had managed to eat one full meal at the correct hour. This was recovery. Still, the pain in your stomach and the electricity in your hand, and your heart’s drumming resonating in your bones…

Suddenly, you became cold, all the sweaty, hot skin was replaced for shivering. But you allowed the creamy ice to touch your tongue, and it tasted nice, it felt nice on your palate. Sasuke did the same. And you did. And your stomach wasn’t totally closed.

At the end, you managed to eat half of the cone. It was an achievement, you mused.

IV

Nightmares continued seizing your skin.  Food. Food. Food. In them, everything was food. Rivers of chocolate that cascaded in marshmallow clouds; a sun made of corn; a boat drenched in the oily texture of pizza. And in those dreams, you ate it all. Now, they were scarce. As your body reabsorbed all the nutrients you had denied it, the reasons your brain had to reproduce such terrible fantasies were dimming; or at least, you imagined that.

Nevertheless, even if you only had them once or twice a week, they were enough to destroy your nerves. Always, you woke up feeling grease was seeping through your pores. It was all anxiety and pain. Now more than before, as you tried to stop the urge to poke your fingers in your mouth and puke all that imaginary calories that you had eaten.

You had always resisted. You were proud.

Every little advance made the heavy burden became lighter. Nothing made you happier than looking at your knuckles: now, they weren’t red and bruised. Hunger had returned to you, letting you feel a small tug at least once a day.  Sasuke looked so much less worried. You loved accompanying him in his walks, usually, he let you take his hand, and last time you saw a smirk on his face when he noticed you never stopped to rest.

After mentally recalling all those little victories, you aimed for another one. A dinner-date. The phone illuminated the blankets and the pillows. You wrote the message, hands still shaking from the nightmare. But you could control this.

Want to go out for dinner tomorrow?

He was probably awake, he stayed up after midnight writing reports. Still, your lungs turned heavy when you read his answer.

Yes. I’ll make time.

V

You feared the bloating. You hated it. Before you date with Sasuke, you rummaged all your closet, searching for something, anything, that didn’t show your grown belly. Maybe going back to it was better? With time, all your clothes would be too small, and then everybody would hate you. You chose that ample dress he liked so much, but now, it wasn’t that ample. You felt tired, air heavy and blood rushing through your veins.

Maybe it was too early for this? Still, you continued. Waiting, sighing. The taste of your saliva, his knocking.

Sasuke leaned in the frame of the front door, waiting for you to arrive. Your steps were a little shorter and slower than you would have wanted, you felt like walking to the gibbet. But you got to the door. You opened. He looked at you. Sasuke’s eyes always left the sensation of coal burning in the flames, always pierced to the deepest part of your flesh.  He wore one of his more formal shirts, which amazed you, taking into account how improvised your date was.

“You are beautiful.”

Those words were like a caress every time Sasuke said them, even if he had muttered them. You wished you had found them true, even just once.

The drive to the restaurant was slow. Sasuke’s expression rapidly became grim, somber; you fidgeted with your seat belt and looked through the window with an expression of profound fear in your features. You had never eaten a full dinner. Now, you were scared. And nervous, and anxious, and bloated.

“You were awake rather late yesterday.” His voice penetrated your panic.

This was the first time you had contacted him after a nightmare. He didn’t know anything. Although you knew he wasn’t stupid, you never tried to confess him the true.

“I had a nightmare. But everything is okay now.”

He hummed. That ended the conversation. Sasuke was annoyed at his inability to talk. Just a stare to your trembling hands and white face was enough to realize everything wasn’t okay.

The rest of the ride was a blur. How you entered the restaurant and whatever Sasuke had asked you in those lapses was also blurry. The only thing that appeared horrifyingly real was the menu in front of you. The menu that extended to the clash of glasses, the smell of meat, the dancing light of the candles, and the torturous music that spread from the speakers.

You had promised yourself you were going to choose whatever sounded more delicious, but every word in that booklet appeared to be a synonym of death.

“What are you going to ask?” You questioned Sasuke, ready to emulate his order.

You heard what he had chosen and repeated it in your mind like a chant. Then, you repeated it to the waiter, with your lips contorted in a fake smile.

“(Y/N), in there anything you want to tell me?”

Had he discovered it?

“What make you think that?” You answered, letting the façade you had used for so much resurface.

“You don’t like to eat outside.”

The giggle that left your mouth was thunderous. He sent you a questioning look that you overlooked while diverting the conversation.

The food came. You looked at it again and again and again. At some point, you heard Sasuke’s voice, is there something wrong? But you ignored it and smiled and took the first piece to your mouth and chewed and swallowed it — even when your throat was completely closed— and took another and chewed and swallowed and took a sip of wine. The drink was Sasuke’s idea, he was glad you were eating dinner together. And you ate and tried to answer his questions and smelled fish from the other side of the restaurant and chewed and swallowed and drank and smiled and let the music daze you and chewed and swallowed and tried to stop the acrid taste in your throat and ate and chewed and drank and-

You couldn’t breathe. The plate was empty. You looked at Sasuke, sitting at the other side of the table. You had a bloated stomach, why had you done this? Heart throbbing in your neck.

“Give me five minutes, I have to go to the restroom.”

You prayed the lack of composure didn’t show as you walked away from the table. Heart ached, head ached. Everything was hazy. You had eaten everything, too much. Your stomach was giant. You closed the door and sat on the floor, chin resting on the seat of the toilet.

After a final sigh, you entered your fingers into your mouth. Deeper and deeper, nausea, acid slowly rising from your stomach. Vomit. Vomit. Vomit. Vomit.

When your stomach finally emptied, you fell into despair. What had you done? Everything was going so well and now… now you were trapped in the beginning. You didn’t even think about cleaning your face or your mouth, instead, you just cried. Tears from the anxiety, tears from the shame, tears from the pain. Maybe you weren’t strong enough to do it…

Sasuke waited for you. Five minutes passed, and ten, and fifteen. He glanced at the restroom door every time the minute hand of his watch moved. At sixteen minutes he went to look for you. He knocked at the door, no answer, just this inaudible wailing he knew was yours. He didn’t have to force the door, you had forgotten to lock it.

And there, in that small room, surrounded by an acrid smell, staring at your eyes, Sasuke understood everything.

VI

Sasuke lifted you from the floor with shaking hands. With shaking hands he flushed the toilet. With shaking hands he cleaned your face and paid the bill and drove back to your home. He didn’t utter a word. How could he? He was so stupid, ignorant, negligent. Everything matched. It was so obvious and he had failed to protect you. And damn it, his hands had to stop shaking.

All that time, while you let him lead you, your mind intonated the same chant: he hates me. Hates me. Hates me. Hates me. Hates me. And why wouldn’t he, you also hated yourself. You had failed. It was too hard, you were going to shrink to death. Tears never stopped staining your cheeks. His hands held the wheel extremely hard, the knuckles were white. Your lungs were too busy choking for managing to utter any word.

He also led you to your house, taking the keys from your trembling hands and opening the door. The two entered. And, finally, you found yourself in your bed, Sasuke holding you in his arms, tight enough to relieve the tingling that pierced all your body. His body was still, extremely stiff, and he didn’t move until your breathing had become somewhat normal.

He didn’t ask for details. He only made one question.

“How can I help you?” The words were pronounced slowly, dragging the syllables, as if it was hard to speak. Almost at the end of the sentence, his voice broke slightly.

It was enough to make you cry again.

“I don’t know.”

His embrace tightened. Right hand combing through your hair, left hand drawing circles in your back. Trapped in his chest, you couldn’t see his eyes.

You told him everything, every word that left your mouth carried the acid taste of puke. But as the last confession left your mouth, you felt a heavy weight disappearing from your heart.

VII

“Is it time to eat?” You asked, answering your boyfriend’s phone call.

Sasuke had done it the last months. He called you for the three big meals of the day, asking about your day and your overall mood. Sometimes, he didn’t tell you to eat, instead, he stayed on the line listening to your ramblings.

You knew it wasn’t time to eat. The clock marked six, there were still two hours before dinner.

“It isn’t. You already know,” He stated, letting silence follow the sentence before continuing, “I finished early today. Do you want to do something?” As he concluded his question, you heard a knock on your door.

“Well, you are here.” You hung up without a farewell. Either way, Sasuke was at your side now.

He entered to your house without much parsimony. He was already used to it.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He said. You knew that was Sasuke’s way of making questions. He would change the plan if you did as much as sigh.

“I’d love to.”

You promenaded under a boulevard adorned with cherry trees. Their leaves were green and there were already red dots growing from their branches. Sasuke’s hand was a bit sweaty, but that was okay, as, with the heat of the summer, yours was too. He walked slowly, trying to inhale all the landscape that rose around him, still, one of his strides, meant two steps for you. You stayed silent most of the time, enjoying the other’s company. At your right side, a stall of food spread its smell. But this time, it didn’t faze you. Instead, you continued admiring Sasuke’s hand. He, on the other hand, walked a little faster, trying to take you away from the odor.

Sasuke stopped when you were away from most of the people. A nervousness you hadn’t perceived apparent now in his eyes. He never left your hand.

“Is there something wrong, Sasuke?”

He kissed you. Firm arms, chapped lips, warm breath. You smiled and giggled. There wasn’t much of a reason, you just felt happy. He smiled too.  

“Come live with me.” That was also a question. Even if he had disguised it as an order.

You kissed him again. A layer of sweat, warm tongue, feathery fingers, tense jaw.

“I will.”

That day, you dined together. You didn’t notice the nervousness, too busy making plans for your future.

VIII

Sasuke felt a harder hold on his hand as you approached the cinema. You dreaded going to the movies, it meant the sweet smell of popcorn and the pressure of consuming more food than you could resist. The movie wasn’t worth it, especially when your concentration decreased in the first quarter of the movie.  

Nevertheless, things were different now.

You bought the tickets and entered to the confectionery. Sasuke stared at you with his dark, preoccupied eyes. You were anxious, afraid you weren’t capable of this yet.

“I’m going to buy the food.”

You had planned everything before coming. It calmed you, giving you a sense of control. Nevertheless, he waited for you to change your wishes, maybe you weren’t ready to eat.

“Okay.”

You sat and waited for him to return. Funny enough, the odors weren’t bothering you. Still, for safety, you let your mind wander. There wasn’t food in your brain. There were books and gifts and kisses. For the first time in your life, you imagined your older self: married to Sasuke, with a pet and a successful career. You weren’t tiny and invisible anymore; life run through your veins, and you felt complete.

Sasuke startled you when he came back. Popcorn and two iced teas in his arms.

“Let’s enter now.”

IX

“How are you?” Sasuke asked, watching you with attention.

Something paralyzed your vocal chords. But you were happy, so very happy. The plate in front of you was empty. This was the tenth consecutive day you had managed to eat a whole dinner, without feeling any kind of distress afterward. And today, finally, a feeling of contempt had filled you when you were full. This was what you had forgotten.  Your fingers grazed his, your smile enough to tranquilize him.

“I still have space for the dessert.”

His kisses were wet, his caresses plumed. Sasuke’s fingers traveled across all your body, making silent compliments in all your skin.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your neck, his lips moving in your skin.

“I love you too.” Happiness was tangling in your chest. Salty tears rimmed your eyes. “I love you so much.”

X

You stirred in bed. Over your skin, the blanket felt soft and warm. Fluffy caresses engulfed your legs as you moved them across the mattress. Sunrays seeped through the curtains. With a little concentration, you could even see small particles of dust dancing in the light. Before you moved to sit up, a grunt reverberated against your neck. Sasuke made his embrace tighter, his breaths lifting some strands of your hair. Yes, he wasn’t a morning person. You turned around and faced him. Eyelids fluttering and a pout. His chest slowly rising and sinking with every breath. You kissed his nose and his eyes and his cheeks.

“Good morning, Sasuke.”

This morning you felt happy, energized. Mind already making a million of plans for the day. It was Sunday, but the day to come was still exciting.

“Stay in bed,” he mumbled as a response, nuzzling your shoulder. That was the way he showed love. His fingers were making little arabesques in your back.

“Just for a while,” you said, as his sleepy state infected you. You curled up on his chest, letting his heartbeat lull you.  “I have to make breakfast.”

Everything was so soft, so warm, so creamy…

Both of you woke up when the sun crashed directly against your eyes. Sasuke tried to hide in your chest, his eyelashes tickling your skin. However, he admitted defeat with a single huff; then he stretched his arms, letting sleep slip off his body. You, on the contrary, accepted the light with a smile, a last yawn escaped your mouth before you jumped away from the pillow. He looked at you while still lying down on the bed. His eyes, even now, sent electricity to your nerves.

“Morning.”

He was answering to your words from earlier that day. That was all you would get.

“I’m hungry. I’m making breakfast.”

You threw him another smile and gave him a small kiss on the lips. Knowing him, he would stay another five minutes in the bed, mourning the lost sleep. The floor was smooth against your feet. A song left your lips as you walked to the kitchen, content bubbling in your chest.

“Do you need any help?”

Today, Sasuke was quick.  He had followed your steps shortly after you left. It was nice. His raspy morning voice was nice.

And, in the counter, while wondering what to cook you realized: there wasn’t any anxiety, or fear, or pain. There was only peace. A warm peace that grew in all your limbs.

[thezol]

lord almighty, the one with bad puns ● sheith.

Series of: Not quite a drabble, not quite a fic.

Triggers: None.

Warnings: Really bad puns from everyone’s golden boy. There are cameos of Roy Focker and Claudia LaSalle, both beloved characters from the anime and manga Macross, here is the reason why.

A/N: Written just for fun, nothing else here to say.

*Kolivan’s booming voice echoed in the room* “The only way this is possible is if Galra blood runs through your veins.”

Shiro’s silver eyes widened in realization as a series of specific moments with Keith passed through his mind.

i.

'Cause your kisses lift me higher Like a sweet song of a choir And you light my morning sky With burning love

“Keith… uhh” He knew he was being rude, but he couldn’t stop staring –or fathom a full sentence or a coherent thought for that matter- he was in a state of total confusion. They were waiting for their Big Belly Burger meal, at his favorite booth near the bar, at the moment he could barely hear the large group of customers –mostly Garrison attendants- ordering drinks, all his attention was focused on his raven haired companion date“...Wha—what are you doing?” He didn’t hide very well his nervousness.  

The sound of the thick substance gurgling triggered goosebumps all over his skin.

Shiro saw how Keith removed the thin straw from his mouth and the most accurate manifestation of doe-eyes he had ever had the pleasure of staring at in his twenty two years of existence stared back at him.

“I’m drinking…?” The question mark was almost explicit by the way the younger fighter pilot tilted his head.

“ Yeah, um, I see, but –uh…” He was feeling the sudden urge to rub his sweaty palms on the knees of his jeans; Keith’s eyebrows were starting to form a tiny frown. “… you are drinking *mayonnaise*” “with a straw, as if it is a fucking Fanta” His mind supplied but he forced his lips to remain closed, by biting his inner cheek, hard.

“I know.” The little shrug ended the conversation for Keith, who just reassumed his task, paying no mind to the profuse sweating emanating from his frightened companion.

Shiro’s eyes were the size of plates as he turned pale, completely dismayed horrified. “At least he looks happy”. He couldn’t stop grimacing when the gurgling turned louder and Keith hummed happily –almost giddy- in satisfaction.

“Ahh.” Satisfied, Keith opened his eyes before he blinked rapidly in surprise at finding near his face…

“Ketchup?” Shiro ended up offering with a sheepish smile.    

ii.

“I can hear you brooding.” The raspy drowsy mumble made him smile.

“I’m not.” Without an operational wormhole generator and more than a few broken Teludav lenses, the castle is nothing but a stranded nightmare with no cover whatsoever in the vastness of space, he can’t help but feel a little anxious about sitting ducks to Zarkon… again.  

“Can’t really blame me for worrying about the photochemical damage in our internal organs after the healthy dose of laser radiation we received today.” Puffs of air materialized with each word, they all went to bed exhausted, including Coran, who didn’t have the time will or energy to adjust the temperature scans of the thermostat… or even activate the lights of their rooms for that matter. At the moment the two of them were in his room, with their covers and closeness and touches as only protection against the inhuman temperatures. The events of today and the irrefutable irony of the hysterical cosmic joke that was their lives left them as nothing but a pair of almost-too-literal-deadweights in his freezing bed.  

“Mmm… my fatalistic nerd.” Keith muttered weakly more asleep than awake, his small head nestled on his lap.

Still, the accomplishment of another survived day, with Keith at his side, it was enough.

More than enough.

Enough to hurt.

“Lance even prophesied we’ll all have Presbyopia before we are 30.”

“I remember hearing that.”  

“Still can’t see?” Shiro half-whispered, not quite able to resist brushing his fingers through Keith’s humid hair, if he dared to draw closer his nose to the ebony threads he would smell a frail track of smoke.

Today almost all die scorched like grilled chicken… Pidge’s blatant euphemism, not his.

“Just like—” a tired groan, words low and barely coherent- “…blurry clouds of smoke?... really dark ones.” Of all of them, Keith still presented the aftereffects, temporary blindness. After seeing how the enigmatic purple pigmentation of the red paladin eyes turned gold, Coran and Allura hurriedly promised they’ll turn operational the cryo-pods first thing tomorrow.

“Don’t worry baby, tomo—”

Like always, he is interrupted by the snort of amusement Keith makes at hearing the nickname.

And he dies a bit inside.

He sighs hopelessly. “I’m glad my love for you keeps being nothing but a big fat joke to you.” He deadpans in indignation while he nuzzles his way through the soft strands that belong to the love of his life and settles his lips against the delicate eyelashes he can’t stop kissing. “My soulless munchkin, nothing endears you.”

The breathless raspy chuckles Keith gives melt his insides and leave him boneless.  “You are ridiculous." within each exhalation travels a caress that warms the thin skin covering his hipbones.

“Mm—hmm.” He affirms while he situates himself more comfortably against the wall, reassuming his readings from the Altean tablet.

He patiently waits for any acknowledgement that Keith is falling asleep, that somehow his presence is soothing him, but as time passes, the younger pilot curls unconsciously closer to his only source of warmth, his embrace vehement and natural, cold hands came up to wrap around Shiro’s leg, his fingers curling into the fabric of Shiro’s pants. His faint breathing a little too fast and his grip a little too tight.    

“Why is he still presenting the aftereffects of the lasers? And why his eyes a—are gold?”

“Shiro, you must remember that this ship wasn’t exactly designed accounting the physiognomy of your species, we don’t know for sure the effects our engineering could have on any of your kind.”

“Maybe what is happening to number four has to do specifically with humans with that type of irises? What are the characteristics of humans with violet eyes?”

“I—I don’t know, until I met him… I thought people with violet eyes were a myth.”

“A myth? Oh young boy, your civilization it’s so primitive and weird.”

iii.

“… you reading?”

The muffled sounds around him turned sharper the moment he recognized the raspy voice, like on autopilot, all his senses focused their attention on the person sitting in front of him –pupils dilated, breath ricocheted, heartbeat propelled- dum, ba- dum, dum, dum. As if the raven haired cadet was an ignition switch that gets you off the launching pad, his whole body lit up, his entire form reacting to the same presence all at once, capillaries in his skin stretched and the abrasive heat left him jittery and vulnerable and alive.  

“Yeah?” His silver eyes never separated from the nonchalant lithe fluidity that was almost sewed to the lean body, it seemed that Keith couldn’t find something in his duffel bag.

“I asked about what you are reading.” Keith reiterated vaguely, too engrossed rummaging for his tablet in the war zone he called bag.

Feign casualness Shiro commented, “I’m reading an article about anti-gravity” he couldn’t stop the giant grin stretching his lips, “Aaand just as Commander Holt told me… it’s impossible to put down!”  

The lounge went cryptically silent. The air in the room suddenly heavy and the peace completely crumbled.

“Oh my.” “He’s gotten so bad.” “Spare us the jokes, Shiro.”

“Sorry, I Apollo—gize.” He ended up taunting.

The sound of more than a few chairs scraping against the floor could be still distinguished as the room was suddenly filled with a chorus of lamenting groans.

“I’m outta here.” “Can’t wait for your lame ass puns being in the border of the solar system!”

Heh, no appreciation for good mood in this world.

Smiling to himself Shiro redirects his attention at his companion.

Finding Keith –tiny nose scrunched up- heavily concentrated on his… hand?

“…Keith?”

“Is something wrong with your hand?”

“My hand?... N—no why?”

“Then why can’t you put the tablet down?”

“Why I can’t pu—…oh”

Oh, indeed.

iv.

“Floor L5 – Recognized Lieutenant Claudia LaSalle - Access Granted.” The artificial voice saluted them as they walked alongside onto the empty longue.  

“As I’ve been telling you Shiro, each satellite will also contain an ultra-stable laser; optical systems aboard the satellites will lock the two lasers to a single frequency…” Her words were supplemented by hand gestures that became more frantic as Claudia got more and more engrossed into her explanation.

“So essentially, it’s like creating a single laser operating at a single frequency.” He added, placing their tupperwares on a pristine table.

“Exactly!” She clasped her hands with enthusiasm, warm eyes sparkling, “when a gravitational wave propagates through the solar system it will cause a motion between the satellites, bringing them closer together, then farther apart, and then closer together again!” The second lieutenant sat gracefully and shared with him a complicit smile as he pulled out a chair so she could sit down first.

“Which will cause a Doppler shift of the laser light as it travels between the spacecraft.” Shiro nodded to himself, starting to immerse in the topic as well.

Taking advantage of the solitude of the place and desperate to stop feeling how the irking material adhered to his skin, he casually removed his uniform jacket, it was late in the afternoon, nobody was at the time hanging around that floor, so there was no real risk of exposure to an Iveson-mania encounter, he could feel the uncomfortable beads of sweat sliding down his neck and spine, conglomerating and sticking the cotton fabric of his shirt to his shoulder blades, consequence of enduring more than 12 hours covered in polyester in an infrastructure with no enough refrigeration power to be situated in the middle of the dessert.

“Yes! I tell you Shiro, if the board approves the installation of optical lattice atomic clocks on board of the spacecraft, we could detect gravitational waves!”  Her gaze turned dazed, relaxed and calm. “... Can you imagine?” It weren’t just her hazel eyes –the drop of her shoulders, the hood of her eyelids- her mind and soul were surely wrapped up picturing a network of such clocks in space.  

“It certainly sounds pretty awesome.” It really was, Shiro knew her theory would allow physicists to perform new tests of fundamental laws of nature and searches for the unknown, it was groundbreaking. So, with all the pride and conviction he could muster for his friend, he couldn’t stop assuring her. “And if anyone can do it, it’s you Claudia.” He meant every word, Claudia was incredibly talented and he had nothing but massive proportions of faith for her.

“I’m not so sure about that,” She diverted her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails unconsciously scratching her head –thinking hard and trying to clear a complex puzzle- messing with the small curls of her short afro. “I still consider that it’s highly unlikely the Garrison would want to go with a completely new technology at this stage… I was thinking in asking your friend, the son of Commander Holt?… Umm.” She squinted her eyes with uncertainty, trying to recall the name.

While leaning forward to reach for his sport bottle, a faint metallic sound startled him. “…Matt?” He tucks his dog tags inside his shirt. Shiro pulls the top of the bottle, wasting no time to satiate his thirst for his green thickie, the rich flavor of Kiwi and Kale combining with the sweetness of milk... his smoothie recipe was a religious experience.  

“Yes, Matt Holt, I was thinking in asking for his help to validate some results, I’ve heard he is the best at configuring big data based devices.”

“I’ll ask him, but knowing Matt, he’ll never pass an opportunity to work with you.” He commented as offhandedly as he could –which was a debatable deplorable performance- and at seeing from the corner of his eye how Claudia’s dark skin heated up, Shiro knew he may have kind of slightly fucked up… just a little. Oh well, it’s not like from just one comment Matt’s worrisome crush will be revealed.

“You know she is with somebody…”

“Save that sickening kindheartedness of yours for someone who needs it, and let me stop your stuck-in-the-22th-century primitive mind, I don’t have a crush on officer LaSalle, I—”

“-B—but you just said so!“

“Shh! I have a nerd crush on that woman’s brain. I feel how my neurons fire up, how my synapses rewires, my whole mind floors each time I re-watch her lecture on the nonequilibrium Green’s function approach to the photoionization process in atoms.”  

“… nerd crush? Are you calling her a nerd?”

“Look at me Shirogane, I AM THE NERD!”

Claudia’s exasperated sigh brought him out of Matt’s antics.

“I have a guest lecture in 15 minutes.” With an impatient double click on the screen of her smartwatch, holographic numbers the size of a watermelon materialized in the middle of the table. The artificial blue light not only emphasized the tardiness, but also her frown. “And I’m starving.” Claudia said as if she was condemning her body.

Shiro couldn’t avoid gazing down and deflate at his innocent Tupperware with his still untouched chicken wrap.

“Roy promised me he would be done by now.” Remorseful for believing again the words said by the pilot in question, she crossed her arms over her chest in aggravation. Hazel eyes narrowed like a proverbial sign of pain waiting for the apparition of the entity responsible for their still empty stomachs.

Aha, and he didn’t sign up for this.

As the omnipresent third law of Newton says, to every action there is always opposed an equal reaction, by being exposed to the impossible-to-ignore presence of Roy Focker for almost more than half a decade -including the fortuitous cohabitation of a room no larger than 7ft x12ft for three uninterrupted years- Shiro has recollected an amount of patience that exceeds Fort Knox gold reserves. Being joined-by-the-hip-since putting a foot in the Garrison to that obnoxious son of a bitch has surely made him a patient human.  

Good fucking riddance.

His stomach morosely agrees.

“… For how long Iverson punished him?” He cut off, darting his eyes for the first time to the wall of glass none of them had dared to look through.  

Below them it was situated the gym where freshmen have been pleasantly reunited to endure a self-defense course imparted by no other than Roy Focker, Iverson’s personal cause of hair loss and bane of existence.

“He didn’t specify,” Claudia commented scrutinizing her cuticles, since long-ago desensitized of Roy’s antics. “But between you and me, this time Roy did seriously crossed the line.”

If Claudia thinks that imparting a lecture with a hangover was crossing a line, Shiro wasn’t going to be the one telling her of the time her boyfriend flew the simulator hammered -intoxicated beyond inebriation, honest-to-god shitfacing on the control panel- Besides, that time Roy surpassed a record, shooting down more than five planes.  

“How dare that brute shit pump say that my behavior is unacceptable?!”

“I can't for the life of my grandfather think why not, you were drunk-flying… and insulted his mom.”

“Get off your high horse Shirogane, first! It was just a simulator, and second! I nailed FIVE PLANES!”

“You just said to Iverson and I quote *Fuck off and go back to the Cyclops whore who gave birth to you.*”

“That filth should worship the floor I walk on… and yours too, you are great too, so great.”

“I appreciate the sentiment buddy, but from now on, check with me before you talk.”

“I’m still not sure to whom the punishment really is, to Roy or the poor new cadets.” Claudia inquired nonchalantly.

The following silence dwarfed their concerns the more they entertained the notion.          

“Maybe we should check?” Shiro shrugged his shoulders, palms facing the ceiling, subconsciously imploring to the god of mercy an uneventful afternoon.

“Good idea.”  

Both of them stepped closer to the glass wall with slow caution and dread -not really wanting but having to- peering down to come across Garrison’s first class training facilities, there was indeed a bunch of freshmen gathered around the boxing ring and on top of the platform was the 7’-1” individual called Roy Focker, his height and that hair made him stand out like the big yellow bird thingy from Sesame Street.          

With a sigh that exhaled a sentiment that goes further than dread, Claudia summoned the audio.

“So me, and you and you too, I guess? And everyone! We’re all aware of the importance of healthy eating and adequate exercise and all that crap professor Montgomery wastes ninety minutes of our lives to tell us in that introductory conference, ninety minutes that won’t ever come back, may I add.” A deep confident chuckle boomed through the speakers, even from the distance, Shiro could see how his friend’s blond head shook in exaggerated mock-annoyance.

“Oh, Focker.”

Shiro only nods in agreement with his colleague, running his fingers through his hair, slicking it back with the persistent beads of sweat.

“So to save us all the additional suffering, I will therefore cut the chase, only to say that I’m not addressing this class as self-defense but as self-preservation,” Shiro followed with his eyes how the blond officer kept a languid walk from one corner to the other, trying to make eye contact with as many young faces as possible, cracking a jovial smile here and there. “Up there or wherever, if you are going to be assigned into our atmosphere or fucking space, you gotta have your eyes wide open and your fingers prepared on the trigger! Let me be clear, there is no place for nonsense! You gotta be fast, you gotta be strong and you gotta be smart.”

Leadership 101 from Lieutenant Roy Focker.

“So,…” -Absently he readjust the wireless microphone closer to his lips- “any questions?”  Roy drawls, crossing his arms over his chest.

A cadet with long green hair raised her hand. “Eh… sir?”

The pilot raises his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“What is your name?”

Oh no.

Please don’t.

The wolfish grin was as sharp as a butcher’s knife. “Lieutenant Focker, young lady.”

Aaand he did it.

The silence was sepulchral.

Until –of course- a lanky brunet couldn’t hold his snort any longer and like a collective plague, most of the crowd erupted too.  

"All right, all right." Roy accepts the dig good-naturedly, as if they're all very good friends and this is a very old joke between them.

“Why Iverson does this?” Claudia whispered in consternation.

“… There must be some inner joke somewhere that neither of us understands yet.” He commented while leaning his shoulder against the glass –arms crossed and attention existing solely by morbid curiosity-.

“So let’s start!” Without breaking eye contact with the crowd, Roy tosses his bomber jacket, effortlessly landing it on the nearest post, earning a series of awed looks from his audience. “Any volunteer?” Most of the girls in the crowd considered it endearing –the tousled gold mane, the gleeful spark behind the crystalline ocean colored eyes- how the officer rubbed his hands in glad anticipation, but that boy-charm show didn’t work with Claudia or him, who truly knew the meaning behind the charade. “No one?” It was the eagerness of a predator with a tasty meal about to be served.

“What about… you!” And just like Moses stretched his hand over the Red Sea and by the grace of God a path was opened through the water, the cadets scattered like a halloween patterned parade, enough to expose a tunnel so the chosen victim could cross to the promised land- “Angry little thing over there! Front and center, come into the eye of the storm.” -just like the Israelites.

“He is so predictable.” Despite being Roy’s girlfriend for over two years, it sounds like Claudia still reaches new levels of disbelief.

“Always the eccentric.” He concedes with a lopsided smile.

“He’s an ass.”

Shiro’s silver eyes widened startled at hearing the uncharacteristic spite behind the reproach. He turned his head slightly to the side, to see how her slim figure retreated, the click-clack of her heels echoing down the longue. He was going to follow her and finally eat his wrap, but the commotion below them recaptured his attention.

It seems that angry-little-thing was some crimson hooded cadet that has been keeping his distance from the crowd, from a level above, all Shiro could see was a bloody spot in motion, he couldn’t discern if the indifference transpired by the cadet’s posture was deliberate or not –his intuition told him it was- but he’ll give the kid some credit, he remained imperturbable as he leisurely walked to the wooden stairs, ignoring the whispering crowd and the dubious looks like a pro, always staring ahead, no hesitation, with his hands hidden inside the windrunner pockets, features out of sight.

He is used to the attention.

Unwanted attention.

You only obtain that defiant elusive ease after being the center of attention your whole life.

After struggling with it until you learn how to survive and don’t let it them affect you.  

Again, his intuition whispered at him that it wasn’t a matter of choice.

Survival mechanism.

With an out of character impatience, Shiro stretched out his neck trying to look better, as if the motion could accelerate the kid’s movements, who was currently kicking off his shoes. Silver moonstones narrowed, if Shiro squinted hard enough, he distinguishes what he believes are a pair of customized Jordan basketball Nikes, also scarlet.    

“Claudia, can y—?”

“Already ahead of you.”

With irrational desperation, he darted his gaze to his left, finding Claudia with a remote control on her hand, pointing at the ceiling hidden screen, the monstrosity of seventy inches was still dropping down.  

Come on.

Barefoot and with the red windrunner laying forgotten on the floor, the cadet took the final steps to enter the ring, where Roy has been waiting for him –sarcastic wave and everything-, holding the ropes so he could pass.

The static sound coming from the television caught Shiro’s attention, and after whipping his neck at light speed he was finally finally finally able to see.

The first time ace pilot Takashi Shirogane –galaxy garrison royalty, triumph embedded veins, sun in human limbs- gets to see Keith Kogane, it’s in beautiful high definition.  

With a touch on the screen –how he got so close? when he moved?- the camera feed zoomed at his will.

Long and lithe lethal, the cadet entered the ring with cat-grace and a sinuous silhouette created by the perfect arch of his spinal column, the sight made something catch behind Shiro’s teeth -hot ashes, smoke, flaming scotch- he’ll choke on his own heartbeat.

“Identify yourself, cadet.”

“Keith.”

No salute, no “Sir”, not even a last name.

Discipline issues.

Without the windrunner jacket, the cadet –Keith, the name is Keith- looked exposed, black running tights, loose Garrison black tank top, tousled raven mane, creamy fair skin; the monochromatic outfit adhered to the runner physique like liquid asphalt on an unblemished surface. And Shiro absorbed it all, the tension on the junctions, the rapid reddening of pale-skin-covered shoulder blades, the strain on shoulders and neck, the dig of fingernails into bright red little palms –and God, everything flushes so easy and so pretty- the too controlled breath, Shiro can almost picture the mantra Calm down, can almost hear the cadet telling himself. Calm down. This isn't new.

The mask wasn’t perfect.  

The indifference wasn’t a survival mechanism per se, it was a control barrier.  

This one wasn’t going to quit easy.

Roy quirked an eyebrow in amusement -the back of his knuckles rubbing against the rough stubble at his jaw- oceanic green eyes pondered down the little menace, critically assessing, when his gaze returned to the cadet’s face he let his eyes linger as a languid smile stretches his lips, no trace of annoyance, no insult taken, just pleasure at the entertainment ahead.  

To others, Roy will appear as someone unpredictable, a hot-headed pilot who didn’t think ahead, but Shiro knew him, he knew the extent of his abilities, his strengths and his tactics, and he knew what Roy was doing. He picked up a troublemaker archetype and was planning on making an example with it. Usually Shiro would approve, he’s used the same approach before, but-  

Roy is twenty three and twice Keith’s size.

“So, kids!” The blond officer boomed to the expectant crowd –screaming and certainly spitting at Keith’s face, the angle didn’t permit Shiro to see more than a narrow graced nose and untamed bangs, but he catches how the cadet bit his bottom lip, as if physical pain refrained him- “Don’t be nervous, this is just our first lesson, you’re allowed to commit mistakes and learn from them, as I said before, my course it’s about self-preservation, and in real life, while facing danger in war or the streets, we won’t be carrying with us boxing gloves or anything similar, therefore, we won’t be using them now.” Shiro sees Roy’s hand gestures as he walks again from corner to corner –palms always up- connoting feign surrender, placation, friendliness. “And don’t be afraid, Keith” The saccharine chuckle crumbled the act. “I won’t harm you.” Much.

While popping his neck, Roy’s long legs ate up the space between them quickly, until he was almost hovering over the cadet’s surly aura.

“So, before we begin, any question? Any health condition, any prob—.”

“No problems.” That voice was cut glass, raspy and it was raising a prickle on the back of Shiro’s neck.

“I’m sensing a very expensive lawsuit.”

“Aha.” Shiro affirms, his noncommittal noise paying no mind to Claudia’s I’m-so-done drawl.

“Let me change the—“

“Woa, wha—” Shiro will deny it until the end of times, but an incredibly embarrassing whine –he’s got a puppy in his belly kind of whine- crawled from the bottom of his being, it was so startling that he couldn’t control it. He wasn’t sure if he was more distressed by the noise or the lost signal.

“Relax Shiro, I’m just looking for a better angle, you’ll be staring at temperament issues in no time.”

Those silver moonstones blinked down at her, obviously confused. Claudia could tell the exact moment his thoughts caught up because he started spluttering and looking anywhere but her face.

“What—no! Why would you, I mean I—”

“Shirogane, you are ogling him.” She tried to keep her expression neutral but damn, Shiro was adorable.

“I—I—…no!”

Claudia only scoffed derisively at his indignation and continued searching for another camera feed channel, settling at one showing a different angle, one with full view of Keith’s face.

All he’s been allowed to see so far have been fast glimpses and an elegant profile framed by ebony strands, but it was enough, Shiro knew the guy was attractive, but once his eyes settled on the screen-,

It hasn’t been enough at all.

Youthful symmetrical –angelic quality- features that blend gracefully into a delicate bone structure, high cheekbones, brows, forehead, small, softly featured nose, it has a refined Asian appeal, eyes that defy categorizing –and goddamn, they are violet, scientists have spent obscene amounts of money, for centuries, trying to replicate that color and they’ve never been even close- and-

-that face it’s confidence and defiance perfectly balanced and it probably opens just about any door that Keith wants, doesn't it.

“Pretty.” Claudia comments.  

As if the seventy inches image wasn’t self-explanatory enough.

“You ever boxed before?” Roy inquired while his head tilted back slightly to show that brilliant self-assured white smile.

“Yes.” The monotone voice remained unfazed the exact same moment Roy’s joviality sunk.

“What, like, TRX, CrossFit? ‘Cause that won’t work for you here.” Shiro knew that Roy was probably trying to coax the cadet to open up more, but honestly, it was only making everything worse.

Keith’s frail façade of indifference finally cracks and shows brief annoyance at the statement.

Don’t, be patient, wait.

Your opponent is stronger and more experienced than you, you have to think.

Patience yields focus.

“KICK THAT MULLET’S ASS!”

The cheer not only startled Shiro, but it distracted Keith, who turned his neck by reflex, trying to look for the impatient brunet who had screamed.

And Roy didn’t waste the opening.

“Rule number one, cadet. Never take your eyes off your opponent.”

Keith!

Precise and unforgiving, Roy threw a jab at Keith’s jaw, but it never made contact, with unprecedented speed and keen reflexes, the raven haired cadet rotated his body, using the heels to pivot counter-clockwise –is left-handed?-, allowing Roy’s punch to miss into the space milliseconds ago Keith just occupied, wasting no time, the cadet counter attacked with a jab of his own.  

Roy easily dodge it by taking a step back, the range of Keith’s arm was dwarfed by Roy’s legs.

You’ll never win like that.

His mind was rapidly assessing the fighters’ characteristics, Shiro couldn’t find a scenario were the cadet ended victorious.

There were more than two feet of difference between them.  

Keith was out of his leag-

While taking the step back, Keith distracted Roy with a lead sidekick that landed on the blonde’s stomach, completely caught off guard; Roy instinctively lowers his hands down. At that moment Keith looked up trough long eyelashes and stepped down, body and mind in complete sync with his speed, the raven haired threw a spinning back fist, power coming from the spin.

What the-

Silver eyes stared stupefied the motion, how the back of the pale and tiny fist connected with Roy’s right ear.

With no hesitation mercy and without taking any time to regain his breathing, Keith pivots again, and rotates his body, this time clockwise –ambidextrous then- and like a wrecking ball at the end of a demolition crane, connects his heel with Roy’s solar plexus.

Roy’s gasp intensified the perception of the damage caused, Shiro knew, he knew that amount of pain comes from the spin, from the flawless execution in conjunction with the snap of the knee.

He thinks he hears Roy mutter a curse as he stumbles, the blond tries to stand prepared and block as he sees how Keith pivots again, aiming for his mid-section again, but this time, after the little menace spins, his left temple its hit with another heel, a high kick.

The momentum of the spin, the impeccable alignment of heel, ankle and lower leg channeled a force that if it wasn’t by mere power of will –stubbornness-, Roy would have fallen on his knees.

“Oh my, God! Roy!”

Shiro didn’t hear Claudia’s scream.

His ears don’t hear. His eyes don’t close, neither does his mouth. -Holy shit- He swears, somewhat befuddled, he must have flatlined, but then he finds on the screen those violet eyes and for a moment, they are bright in a liquid, blazing chaotic way that’s so unlike any gemstone in the world, and then he understood the resemblance… -fierceness, a spark, life force- Fire, fire doesn’t have a color, it has a spectrum, and it looks magnificent in violet.  

With a grunt more than a curse, “Mother Focker.” –and aren’t those nice last words before death- Roy threw another punch, a jab thrown while he grounded his body, projecting his force downwards.

Too slow.

Shiro remained completely dumfounded, utterly surprised to the extent that he is unable to keep a rein on his mind. He’s witnessing, close up, effortlessness and lightness combined with speed, determination and precision.

A lion among men.

Fearless, Keith’s knees kick up before he throws his legs on either side of Roy’s body, one high in the torso, the other just in the crease of the knees, providing the raven haired cadet enough leverage on either side of the lieutenant’s body. The two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle mass that is Roy Focker, were disregarded like a piece of paper between two blades of a scissor. Only, instead of slicing paper, Keith was using a combination of potential and kinetic energy to cut through Roy’s center of gravity.

Like a child tossing down a rag doll.

A rag doll of seven feet height and weights two hundred and sixty pounds.

From where comes that goddamned force, it doesn’t make any sense.

v.

For Takashi Shirogane, there are only two types of people in this world, the ones who pour the cereal first and then there is-, no, correction, there is only one type of people in the world, ‘cause those who pour the milk first in the bowl aren’t humans are sickos and shouldn’t be trusted.

He’s never experienced this kind of betrayal in his life.

“What the hell are y—I mean what are you—”

“Hmm?” A bit perplexed by Shiro’s tone, Keith stares up through his eyelashes with curiosity, still pouring the Honey Nut Cheerios into the bowl with milk, as if it has been poured previously.  

As if he’d poured the milk first.

He. poured. the. milk. fisrt!

“… Shiro?” Was all the younger fighter pilot said, but what he truly meant was “Why are you looking at me like your flesh it’s gonna melt off your face?”

“Why you poured the milk first?” He whispered, he couldn’t raise his voice, all his air has been knocked out of his system.

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding, maybe it’s not what it looks like, right? Maybe it was a onetime thing. Maybe Keith wasn’t conscious of what he was doing.

It wasn't denial as long as there was still hope.

“What?” In other circumstances, Shiro would be endeared, the tilt of the head, the big almond eyes, the lazy morning look with the messy topknot, like he's got no goddamn idea how he looks like that, all relaxed lean lines and soft features, in other circumstances. At the moment, the atrocious crime overwhelmed his partner’s beauty.

“Baby, you put the cereal first, it's just against the laws of nature to do it any other way, the milk its liquid, it will find its way into the empty spaces via capillary action, you won’t want soggy cereal; adding the milk last lessens the time the cereal is in contact with it, thus preserving the crunchiness longer. It is just common sense that the cereal element should exist in the bowl first. Don’t you— Keith?—Where—Keith?!”

“It’s too early for your nonsense, Takashi!”

You look like an angel

Walk like an angel

Talk like an angel

But I got wise

You're the devil in disguise

Oh, yes, you are

The devil in disguise

As the luminescent lavender glow died down, while all masked Galrans were focusing their attention on the red paladin of Voltron and the implications of what they’ve just witnessed.

With the tiniest voice muttered in his life, with silver eyes emptily staring at his shoes.

Shiro mumbled. “Oh.”

end.

A/N: alternative title #1: Takashi, honey, all the signs were there.

        alternative title #2: How many shieth drabbles I can write while listening Presley's songs.