#a little repetitive but SO FUN

[bitnotgood28]

YOU KNOW IT’S TIME’S LIKE THESE WE’RE SO MUCH HAPPIER 🎸🎸🎹 NIGHTS LIKE THESE WE’LL REMEMBER THOSE STUPID JOKES 🎹🎸🎸

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you. part 3

🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 

“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 

“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 

No. “Thanks.” 

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 

“Hi.” 

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 

“What about Steve.” 

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 

“He… He’s hurt.” 

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 

“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 

“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 

One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 

Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 

It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 

He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 

People don’t just die. 

They don’t. 

He’s fine. 

Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.

Eddie can relate.

Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 

Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 

It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 

And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 

But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 

He needs a smoke. 

He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 

But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 

It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 

“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 

Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 

She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 

I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.

But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 

But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 

“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 

“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 

“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 

And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 

She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.

He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?

But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 

That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 

“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 

There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 

“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 

But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 

“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 

So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 

“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 

Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 

It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 

“Eddie?” 

With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”

Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 

He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 

“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 

“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 

Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 

She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 

It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 

Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 

Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 

It’s so fucking surreal. 

He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 

And silence reigns. 

“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 

There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 

Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 

“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”

“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 

Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 

“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 

Tell me about your favourite person. 

Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 

And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”

She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 

“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 

There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 

“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 

Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 

“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 

He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 

“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 

“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 

There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 

He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 

There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 

And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 

So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 

It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 

“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 

What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 

“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 

What?

Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.

“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 

That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 

“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 

And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 

Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 

Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 

And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 

It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 

“Why’d you call me?” 

It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 

He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 

“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”

Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 

She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 

“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 

Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 

“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 

And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 

Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 

“What, the ice cream parlour?” 

Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 

She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 

Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 

“He saved your life?” 

Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 

“In the fire? Were you there?” 

“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 

Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 

“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 

“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 

“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 

“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 

It is, isn’t it? 

You’re so blue, Stevie. 

She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.

Blue. ‘S nice. 

Yeah. Yeah, he is. 

Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 

Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 

He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 

Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 

And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 

The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 

“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 

“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 

🤍🌷 tagging:

@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)

[un-pearable]

in which zane did not know before he died

remembered this very old au concept i’ve had since i was tiny watching ninjago for the first time… it completely unravels everything i enjoy about zane in the early seasons and i refuse to think of the necessary rewrites atm but i needed to make at least this one scene exist. can an au be naught but a single panel that makes me Sad?

[clingyduoapologist]

AC1 haters are so funny because they’re always like “it’s so poorly designed! Why is it so repetitive!!” Like huh I wonder if the ruthless structured efficiency with which we’re expected to carry out our assassinations has anything to do with any Lessons Altair learns over the course of the game 🤔🤔🤔

[best-fnaf-song-competition]

HEY YOU GUYS WERENT KIDDING. BACK FOR ANOTHER BITE IS AN ABSOLUTE BANGER

[arsenicflame]

save me 8 hours of repetitive work save me

[anmiruzu]

Hello how are you doing? Hopefully your doing good :)

I have a request you don't have to do it at all if you don't want to. I was hoping you can do a gn reader who has sans ability? I'm talking about that reader that has sans ability. They can teleport, they can summon a gaster blaster and something else! If you don't know sans. U can search them in Google, "sans undertale ability". And how they met the Upper moons (separately). You can Ignore this if u don't take request u just wanted to ask :)

upper moons 3&6 w/ reader who has sans abilities

a/n hii ty for requesting I’m doing well and i hope you’re doing well too :D so so srry for taking so long, i procrastinated a lot. :’) (is not used to writing for multiple characters) also this only has akaza, daki, and gyuutaro. I'll post the rest when i get to it if i don’t procrastinate. just some warnings but possible inaccuracies w/ the abilities; i haven't played the game so i just skimmed through the wiki. and possible ooc; it’s the first time I’ve written these three

Akaza

-akaza would mostly be interested in your abilities, curious in how you got them despite being a human.

-he would also be curious how they work and would ask questions, like if it strains you to use too much to simply how it works and if it works under certain conditions, etc.

-would always ask you guys to train and fight together 

-would get really surprised if you randomly teleport in front of him but would try not to show it, although it’s obvious with the small flinch. 

-if you were a demon assuming you’re really strong, he would try putting in a good word for you, and soon you become a fellow upper moon only after upper moon 6 dies tho. 

-how you two met: akaza was out on a mission for muzan until you came along teleporting in front of him by mistake. 

-he, at first, thought it was a blood demon art and was interested in how it works but then he found out that you were not a demon and were in fact a flesh and blood human. 

-was pleasantly surprised with this information and wanted to challenge you to a duel. This want only got worse he found out about the other abilities you have

-ended up asking you, your name and challenging you to a duel and throughout the whole duel, he was trying to convince you to become a demon so you can train and fight each other for all of eternity (similar to Rengoku). 

-if you somehow won the duel and decided not to kill him, he would come seek you out, challenging you again and again until you agree to becoming a demon.

-if you lost the duel he would give you one last chance to become a demon before killing you. But if you decide to take him up on that offer he would be overjoyed and turn you into a demon already wanting to fight you again.       

Daki

-she found you to be really beautiful and if you were a demon she would be clingy to you both because of your beauty and her admiration of your strong abilities. if you were human tho she would try eating you

-when she’s not working, she would be by your side and would often bicker with her brother who doesn’t like you

-you act as a sort of peacemaker between the two of them although you really only succeed at calming down daki and not gyuutaro

-how you two met: Daki saw you on her way to another job, at first she didn’t really care after all you were just another human. She did, however, take note of how beautiful you were. 

-she planned on eating you later, after her job and during the night. So a few hours later, late in the evening she seeked you out, luckily she found you quickly and chased you down with her obi sashes.   

-of course you easily avoided them and quickly got away with your teleportation.

-she got really pissed at that (meaning she threw a small temper tantrum) and tried seeking you out; key word tried

-she had to have gyuutaro help her out

-it took them a while but the two of them eventually found you again

-only for you to get away… again

-and so a game of cat an mouse ensued 

-with both daki and gyuutaro raging

Gyuutaro

-gyuutaro would be really jealous of your abilities as they’re very overpowered and useful. Making him question how you got your abilities and would enviously grumble. He would compare your abilities to his own and others.

-his envy would get worse if you were good looking too on top of your abilities

-would not get along with you well, finding something to dislike every time you two speak. It would take him a while to warm up with you, his envy getting in the way. You would have to be really persistent for you two to get along. 

-also possible rough housing/mutual teasing? like a lot of back and forth w/ him 

-how you two met: gyuutaro was off roaming around the entertainment district out of boredom.  

-and you somehow caught his eye. whether that be by your looks or how you present yourself to others he doesn’t know. 

-it wasn’t until later when he saw you again that he found out about your abilities. He was immediately enviously grumbling and tried attacking you with his blood sickles (that’s what those are, right?) 

-it failed 

-and he ended up slamming into a building

-you laughed in his face and teleported away

-with him chasing after you 

-(i’m srry I ran out of ideas TvT)

kny masterlist here

[sneezydarliing]

hello!! i haven’t interacted with your blog much but i just rolled in from the last tigh//nari post you wrote (so good!) and saw you might be looking for requests? i’m still really nervous asking and not sure what i’m doing so no offense taken if you disregard!

anyway, i’d love to read some cy/no content? if you’re along w any ships (cynari, haino, etc) that’s totally cool. maybe like a [plant/flower] allergy situation when he visits the forest?

hope you’re well and thanks for sharing content <3

Thank you so much for the req!! I'm sorry for the wait, I really hope you enjoy!

reqs are open

Pairing: cynari

Words: 1044

CW/TW: sneezing content, mention of mess

Cyno had not anticipated anything special out of this trip to the forest. He was going only to see Tighnari- who had excitedly informed him of a new discovery made deep into the forest watcher’s patrolling area. The look on his friend’s face, combined with the eager swishing of his tail behind him, was more than enough convincing to get the mahamntra to venture into the greenery.

It’s quiet as he pads along the roughly and hastily made trail, leaving him with his own thoughts- excitement to see tighnari again, listen to him ramble on about whatever he had found, a slight apprehension at the possibility of this being dangerous- not that either of them could not hold their own, but tighnari was often so eager to research that he did not stop to think about any possible consequences to himself, and he hated seeing him in pain. Muddled in with these feelings, a slight but sudden itch in the back of his nose. He presses a knuckle against the side of it absentmindedly, just as a pair of ears perking up quickly catches his attention.

“You made it!” Tighnari calls out to him, tredging through ankle-deep tangles of weeds to meet him. There’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and a tangle in his usual well-kept tail. As Cyno nods his greeting, he cannot help but wonder how long he’s been out here. The other seems to be aware of it, occasionally flicking the appendage about in absent-minded frustration.

Tighnari leads him further into the forest, happily rambling on about the things they pass by and what his research has granted so far. Cyno can’t get himself to focus, the itch in his sinus suddenly alight, forcing his breath to hitch just once before calming again. He can almost feel Tighnari’s concerned frown, but he decides to keep quiet about it for now, to Cyno’s gratitude.

Suddenly, he’s stopped. Tighnari moves to the side, looking at Cyno with pride clear in his eyes. He’s meet with the sight of a large, blooming flower, encased in golden vines that seem almost-conscious, twitching at any movement around them. “I haven’t been able to touch it yet, and my elemental attacks have no effect. That’s why I brought you out here, I was hoping maybe electrical- Cyno?” His ramblings cease as he catches sight of him, hands cupped loosely in front of his face, usually serious expression crumpled into one of desperation as he fights off the need uselessly, breath stuttering until he can no longer fight it.

‘hEh-itSH! ‘tShi! hiH-” The third one is lost, leaving him sniffling, trying to rub the irritation out of his sinuses. “Archons, bless you! Are you feeling alright?” Cyno sniffles uselessly again, trying to will some of the congestion out of his voice before he speaks.

“I’m fine. You can romaine calm.” Tighnari groans in response. “You must be, if you’ve got the energy to make jokes. Anyways, can you try to hit ones of the vines with your elemental attack? Be gentle, please, and don’t damage the plant itself.” Cyno nods, saluting in a ‘yes sir’ gesture, as he prepares to follow instructions. He presses the back of his hand to his nose, scrunching up the appendage as he aims carefully. But he was unable to fight against his body and control it at once, sent foreward with another flurry of sneezes the moment he releases the energy, causing it to be sent foreward towards the flower. It’s reaction was instant, sending out a shower of pollen before curling into a ball, vines wound around it tightly. Cyno faintly hears a noise of frustration come from Tighnari, but he can’t focus, paralyzed with the awful tickle that came as the pollen surrounded him. He was in the direct line of fire, and he felt it, nostrils feeling alight as his eyes watered, he couldn’t even fight it, thrown into a desperate fit.

“haH’TSCHhi- KSHhiew! hih- hidT’SHHih! ‘idtSHhiew- sCHih!” They tore at his throat, raw and painful as his body tried desperately to release all of the pollen. He felt almost embarrassed, unable to do anything as Tighnari watched helplessly. “tignarihHh-tSHhi!” Even just his name seemed to break his stupor, the fox-tailed man rushing over and grabbing Cyno’s arm, bringing him somewhere- he could not even keep his eyes open long enough to tell, the lower half of his face buried in an arm he threw up to avoid spraying the other. He felt himself be gently led into a sitting position, half aware of the sun now beaming down on them.

His breath caught, leaving him helpless into a rough fit of coughing that didn’t seem to let him. He felt Tighnari’s hand on his back, rubbing comforting circles as he whispered encouraging phrases until the coughing finally let up. He leaned back against Tighnari, unable to resist the need to catch his breath. His face was wet with tears, nose running onto his upper lip. He roughly cleaned it up with the back of his wrist.

“There you go, you’re okay. Any trouble breathing?” Came the soft voice next to Cyno, reminding him suddenly of his blunder. Tighnari had been so eager to research, and he had messed it up. Guilt shot through him. “Sorry, ‘nari.” He pawed at his nose again while he spoke.

“It’s alright. I can bring somebody else another day.” Tighnari soothed, hands beginning to card through the others' hair. “Right now, we need to get you cleaned up. The pollen on your clothes won’t do you any good.” he stood quickly, reaching out a hand to Cyno, but he was distracted with the need to sneeze once again, raising a shaky hand in warning.

“hIh’tSChih!i’tsCHuh!” He sniffled once more as Tighnari waited patiently, before taking the hand offered to him, letting himself be pulled onto his feet.

“Hey, ‘Nari?” The forest watcher turned back to face him, “What is it?” “I’m very frond of you.” Tighnari huffed, turning back around and beginning to stalk off, stopping only a few paces in front of him. “I love you, too, Cyno.” Mahamatra grinned, catching up to his partner as they began the trek home, punctuated with the occasional sneezes.

[cookinguptales]

always so funny to me that ketamine in tv and movies is always like "omg party drug... but watch out!" meanwhile IRL I am preparing for my biweekly ketamine dose by wearing my softest jammies and cuddling up in a fluffy blanket with a heating pad and firing up stardew valley.

really living life on the wild side over here.

[warpolomewdarkmatter]

so zurg text from lightyear does make sense and the guide to deciphering it can be found in the artbook (along with a warp shaped straw i can grasp). so i compiled some screenshots from the movie along with "translations"! :~) do with this information WHAT YOU WILL. and know that zurg can apparently READ BACKWARDS.

[kanene-yaaay]

Bad Days and Good Nights

Warnings: This tickle fic contains angst, hurt/comfort, family tickles, fluff, family fluff, usual siblings shenanigans and cheer up tickles. (It happens after a few years of Mari’s accident. The story itself doesn’t focus on that but there are a few hints of how everything affected them). It has Lee!Kel and Ler!Hero with a quick Ler!Kel and Lee!Hero. Around 6.000 words.

Kanene’s notes: I am once again losing myself in scenarios w siblings being good bros and cheering each other up. So!! This one is for two of my faves boyos: Kel and Hero!!! yeshhh!!!

Tbh I don’t think that this is one of my best works but it still deserves its time under the spotlight. I hope you all enjoy the story!! Thank you for your attention <3

[~*~]

Today was not a good day.

Kel knew that. Deep down he was aware that his hands were more twitchy than normal, that his brain was really, really trying but all the words his teacher said simply stopped having meaning a long time ago and only felt like senseless background sounds being dropped in the room. 

He knew that when he took a sip of his usually tasty and favorite energetic orange drink and it tasted just like always but today the citrus felt almost unbearable on his tongue. He also knew that when he remembered that he was going to meet with his basketball group after school and how that usually would have him bouncing on his feet and smiling like crazy but that today it didn’t even make the bad heavy feeling on his stomach go away.

However, it was fine! That was no problem at all because everyone feels under the weather most of the time. It’s pretty normal and all you can do is just keep going with your life, act normally and anxiously wait for the moment when all the bad feelings will just disappear, right?

It must be. After all, it really did work! Even if sometimes (more often than not) the sadness would sneak back and cling on his back like a parasite, pushing memories inside his mind and making his chest ache about the moments that he would never be able to get back to and tremble with what that could possibly mean. But that doesn’t mean that the plan didn’t work in the first place! Just that… sometimes stuff takes effort to work. And it did work. It did. 

Most of the time. 

Sometimes.

…Often enough.

Still, he just had to smile, push forward and wait for it!

The bell rang, an ear splitting tune that always made Sunny flinch and grimace (Kel wondered how he was doing) ringing all across the classes and signaling the end of the period. The boy felt a relieved sigh leave his lips, a bounce taking over his movements. See? Waiting really did work! He began shoveling all his textbooks and stray papers (eh, they would end up with wrinkles and tears but that was an inevitable fate of every piece of paper in the world), a pep on his step as he got up.

“Kel, please have a little more patience and wait for me to give you your test back before dashing through the door.”

Astonished blink. The rest of the classroom suddenly came back to focus as his classmates’ snickers filled the space. Everyone was still sitting down except for him and the girl with green strands of hair and a cool tattoo on her arm (she knew some very good shows and always carried a kind of game around. What was her name again?) folding a paper (her tests) and putting on her bag before heading to the door. His teacher looked at him with an arched eyebrow and an amused stare, lightly shaking his head when Kel chuckled and scratched the back of his head, a bit of embarrassment running hot on his face.

“Sorry, teacher.”

“Patience is a virtue, but we all take some time to conquer it. I know that I didn’t find mine yet.” The adult winked and went back to calling his classmates names, handing them their grades and saying one or two things that Kel couldn’t really - nor wanted - listen to, still feeling a flaming kind of hotness racing through his veins. 

(Usually it wasn’t so bad. Usually he didn’t mind any poke of fun. Usually he would even make one or two jokes to follow it. But today was a bad day. Today everything felt too sharp around the edges. Like just the tiniest push would make everything explode.)

It didn’t take too long before the classroom cleaned and he was the last one there. It was kind of predictable when his name was called.

“Here it is, Kel.” A C+?? That is not bad at all! It wasn’t any five stars grade or anything worth a celebration but it really wasn’t bad. 

“Cool. Thanks, teach!”

He tried to open his bag, failing. The zip was stuck.

“You know, Kel. I also was your brother’s science teacher.” Kel hummed in agreement, that was the case with most of his teachers since he and Hero had very close ages, just partially listening to the words while fighting with the zip of his bag that probably got stuck with one of the crumbled papers inside it. Ick. “Henry was a very good student. He is now studying to apply for medical college, right? I hope he gets in.” 

Kel tried again to open and close the zip without damaging the paper inside the bag. It got stuck again. Yep. At least he tried to be gentle. Now the paper had to go down. It was its inevitable fate since the beginning of the times.

“I think you also have a great potential, Kel. The points you bring on your presentations are really good and while grading this test I can’t help but feel like…” Finally! Kel managed to fully open his bag and then place the science test inside. His teacher seemed almost done talking to him anyway, which was good. He was kind of hungry.

“I expected more from you, Kel.”

Ah.

Kel froze.

That was… fine. Normal. Teachers, parents, people in general weren’t ever very impressed at Kel’s grades. Or even happy. Or had any positive feelings about them in general.

“Hehe, sorry, teach.” The words came tumbling from his mouth before he realized what he was saying. Filling the air with a halfhearted laughter before the silence could get awkward. “I will try my best on the next one!”

(He had tried his best on this one.)

Yeah. He… he would. Science was one of his favorite subjects. He definitely could try better. Not that what the teacher said got into him or anything. It was fine! It…

It kind of stung.

Actually, it kind of stung a lot.

He said something else to which the adult replied, but once again it felt like the words tumbling right out from his mouth had no connection with his brain. He headed to the basketball court in the park, way too much feelings cutting and bubbling deep in his soul.

Irritation had always been normal to him, like a bug nipping at the corner of his brain and flaring its wings at any small kind of frustration or mean commentary thrown in his way. Now, however, it felt different. A hot, thick and slick kind of anger numbed his hands and filled his lungs, making him want to scream or do something stupid.

Today was not a good day.

(...)

Two hours had passed. He played basketball and it helped. The concentration, the methodic throws, constant running, sounds of sneakers hitting the concrete, mindless shouts and encouragement screams were good to push his thoughts away and let the adrenaline and feelings boiling in him explode all at once and gradually slow down until only a tired kind of exhaustion clung to his frame.

Kel arrived home, sighing in relief when he discovered that both mom and dad were out, probably buying groceries and having ice cream when mom complains that dad hasn't taken her out for a date in forever and how nowadays no husband tries to be caring and romantic anymore. Kel was just glad that he doesn’t have to show anyone his test to anyone right now.

His room was empty. Right. Hero was probably still out studying.

He hopes his brother remembers to take breaks and have a snack while he is there. He has been working too hard these last months. 

(It was great to know that at least one of them was trying their best.)

It’s nice to see him up and about again, the determined shine in his eyes subdued, but not completely erased, even if it took a too dark tunes sometimes. 

For all that Hero was smart and caring, he often forgot the simplest things, like that he is a human with basic needs.

His bag went to somewhere on the floor as Kel threw himself on the bed with a little too much force. He was tired. And should probably take a bath if he didn’t want to have a lecture about hygiene in some hours.

Oh well, sounds like a problem for future Kel, if he ever heard one.

The younger one fell into a dreamless sleep.

(…)

There were fingers caressing his hair, slowly pulling him back to consciousness and unfairly stopping the heavenly petting and beginning to mess the strand as soon as Kel showed signals of opening his eyes.

“Wakey wakey, Kel. It’s time for dinner.” Hero’s voice rang in a light tune and Kel incoherently grumbled in protest, mechanically sitting on the mattress with one swift movement. Not pushing the offending hand away only because he knew that doing so would just fuel the older to try to “show his giant brotherly love” further and Kel wasn’t quite in the mood for that right now.

He was feeling a bit slow. 

Better, but still slow.

Kel yawned, getting up and heading downstairs to the kitchen, missing the look Hero gave him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a slight tint of a worried something else.

The good thing about family dinners was that his mother was always more than happy to fill the silence with stories about the past, about her childhood, their childhoods or events that happened earlier on the day. His dad prodded him about his day and Kel mentioned the basketball practice before letting Hero take over with his talk about his studies and the clubs he was in. So he was free to just concentrate on chewing and thinking about what more he could do to fill the evening so he wouldn’t take another hour long nap and ended up waking up full of energy in the middle of the night. 

(Maybe he should try calling Sunny ag-)

Heading upstairs was uneventful and the shorter one stopped in front of the television in his room with a thoughtful pose. He could watch his comfort movie but…

Kel shook his head and marched with determination to get the already old DVD case. It’s been years since Hero last played the game they always did when that movie was passing on TV. He probably wouldn’t even remember about it nowadays. Even if he did, he would be too busy studying to-

“Is that Cosmic Boy? Wow, it’s been a long time since I watched it!” Kel yelped, jumping in the air with how the sudden voice of his brother cut the air.

“Hero! Don’t sneak on me like this. I almost dropped the case.”

The older one winced apologetically. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to do that.” His features, however, quickly changed to a watchful gaze that ping ponged across Kel expression and body language, trying to find any hint about the reason of the quietness that washed over him during the whole dinner. “You are just very distracted today, Kel. Did something happen? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Please don’t be about her, please don’t be about her I don’t think I am ready for this yet-

Kel shook his head with force, as if he could physically throw his thoughts from his brain with just this action, a habit both of them had, although it was unclear who copied it from who.

“It’s nothing.” 

There was a slight pause between the words. Hero never told Kel that but this was his biggest tell during his lies. Usually he was just so used to spilling anything in full honesty that when he tried to lie he always second guessed what he was going to say.

Besides, it wasn’t a ‘there isn’t anything’, but ‘it’s nothing’, so he was right, there was something that was really bothering his little brother.

While Kel moved his attention back to the TV, putting the DVD on the device, Hero subtly bit his lower lip, looking at his desk filled with books and papers scattered all across the place. The usual guilt of not studying at every single available moment in his life was already beginning to chew his brain.

However… 

Kel sat a few meters away from the screen, his orange basketball in hands, being clung to his chest in a shadow of a hug. He always looked so… small, sitting like that.

All the doubts vanished from his mind at this moment. There was just no subject or college in his world that could be more important than his brother.

He was not going to fail him again.

“I am going to get popcorn.” He smiled when Kel turned at him, pleased and surprised with the promise of a snack and company. “Mom is in a good mood today so I am going to try to convince her to open the box of chocolate she is holding on for the holidays.”

“I want the one with caramelized peanuts, the orange one and the big milk chocolate candy or also the one that taste like bananas-”

“That is dad’s favorite, there is no way for me to convince him to give it to us.” He chuckled as Kel whined as he fell on the floor, an annoyed pout blossoming in his face.

“It’s always dad's favorite. I wanted to try it.”

“That is the thing about favorites, Kel. they usually don’t change.” The younger one pouted more and rolled on his side to look at the TV, giving Hero his back in a grump style. “We can buy it the next time we go to the grocery store, you know? Just give me a reminder.”

Kel hummed, still looking at the screen, already uninterested in keeping their banter going. 

Yep, a very special cheering up and good ol’ brotherly bonding time was in order, then.

It didn’t take long, just a few charms, lots of puppy eyes and promises of buying another box and a nice something before he was sitting right next to the shorter one with a big bowl of popcorn and lightly nudging the boy to a more comfortable position to eat.

The movie started. Hero couldn’t lie, especially as he got older, but the film was nothing but just a simple animation with an even simpler plot too full of fond memories to be forgotten. Three friends being lost in space and finding - after years of their childhood being filled with rules, boredom and routines - a world with a colorful circus where they finally discovered what it was like truly being a kid and having fun.

When he was little, it had been one of his favorites and his love for it quickly spread to Kel, who were more than happy to weekly bother his older brother to watch it again and again, usually getting so excited about it that it was almost impossible to get him to actually watch the movie instead of just continue to jump around with his giddy energy, basically screaming the lines with the characters.

Most of the time it would take a while to get him to calm down and sit to enjoy the movie with him, especially because the little boy kept doing all the stuff to get him in his nerves. 

The older one glanced at his brother. It was almost unnerving how quiet and… not-moving he was now when he looked back at those memories.

… What did he even do to stop Kel from causing a ruckus and actually sit down to watch the movie?

There was a game, wasn’t it? How did it go, again…?

Mindlessly and lost in his thoughts, Hero stretched his arm to get more popcorn, which would be a totally fine and normal move if it wasn’t that movie and it wasn’t for that scene getting close, which meant that Kel had his eyes glued on him and his actions, knowing very well that if his brother remembered The Game, this usually would be the moment that he would start it.

That is why such yelp left his lips when Hero’s hand got closer, nerves buzzing and body throwing himself on his side while a hint of a smile grazed his mouth.

Hero only looked at him confused. 

“Kel? What wa-”

But before he could say anything else, the circus’ showman - one of the best characters of the movie - laughed and his excited announcement filled the space, taking, just like he always did when showed on the screen, all the attention to himself:

“A ride? Of course! We can visit any planet in the Universe! The planet of the infinite tickles, the planet of snickering elbows, the planet of the hilarious beetroots!”

The rest of the sentence disappeared as suddenly Hero’s brain was filled with plenty of giggling and squirming memories.

The planet of infinite…

Oh.

Hero remembered, now.

Kel, who was busy squinting and watching his brother with suspicion, trying to discover if he was truly confused or pulling his leg, squeaked, immediately recognizing the gleam that appeared in his eyes and the predatory turn of his smirk, fastly making his limbs turn around and kicking his legs to run away.

“Nonono! Hero! Think about what you're about to do!!” 

And Kel may be the most athletic of the two, but Hero always was good at reading his movements. While the younger one had the anticipation and stamina on his side, which made him successfully scramble away in wobbly dodges and quick jumps,  the taller ran to put himself in between him and the door, knees bended and arms spread wide, ready to catch any giggling younger one that tried to pass through him in the only true way to escape from his fate.

“You can’t camp at the door! This is against the rules!” Kel jumped on his bed, spinning around to point at him accusingly.

“Is it, now?” Hero blinked in the personification of innocence.

“Yeah!! It is and you know it.”

“I don’t think I remember the rules very well, dear little brother of mine.” Kel groaned at the affectionate nickname and would have let himself fall on the bed and complain about how embarrassing Hero was if it wasn’t for his non-laughing-safety being at stake. “Why don’t you come closer and explain them to me again?”

Kel raspberried at him, not moving a single finger in his direction.

They stared at each other.

Well, Hero internally shrugged. He tried. 

Showtime.

“Oh no!” He hugged his stomach, making a show of groaning and squirming around. “Kel, I was visiting one of your favorite planets and I think something is wrong with me now.”

He had to lower his face and press it on his chest to stop the snickering that bubbled from him when Kel basically shouted that “The planet of infinite tickles is not my favorite!!” so he wouldn’t break his character

“I think I am sick.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Owwww. I am terribly sick, Kel, I don’t think I can fight it any longer.”

“Hero!” Kel tried to not let his smile show on his tune too much, but he wasn’t successful, especially when Hero lifted his head and grinned at him, making a tickly kind of electricity run on his spine. “This is dumb. I am not a kid anymore. I can say that you’re lying.” 

“Sick! So sick. SO so sick. There is nothing we can do now. I am infected with the Need-To-Tickle-Tickle-Tickle-My-Little-Brother-Immediately disease and it’s only getting stronger as the seconds tick by.”

Silence. Kel seemed stuck between laughing in disbelief and groaning at his dramatics. Yet he didn’t step any closer to him. 

“Kel, you need to escape.”

“Then, get AWAY from the door.”

Hm. Maybe Hero would have to jump to plan B.

He pretended to not listen. “You must run away and save your life. I can feel it getting stronger, making my fingers wiggle and asking for your squeaky giggles in my mind.”

As he gave a quick glance upwards, he saw Kel looking at the window with squinted eyes and a thoughtful face, considering. 

No. Definitely not. Time for plan B.

“There is just - urg- only one thing that can save me.” He made a show of pulling something out of his pocket. The chocolate wrapping glinted in the light. “The forbidden banana chocolate that I got for Kel but now it will have to be used for the greater good.”

A gasp.

Kel knew it was a trap. For real, he knew it.

But he also really, really wanted to know why his dad had been obsessed with this chocolate since his early memories. Besides, Hero was distracted with his theatrics. If he tried to zig zag his way to his brother he could get it, he was sure of that. There was a reason he was feared at basketball and it wasn’t only for his deathly aim, but also for how fast he could be when he really wanted.

He could do that. He definitely could do that. Just dash, grab the snack and immediately bolt back to his bed. 

 Easy Peasy.

Hero wouldn't even notice him before it was too late.

He took a deep breath, eyes full of determination. Hero didn’t move, still dangling the chocolate in the air and slowly bringing it closer to his open mouth.

One, two, three and… RUN!

(...)

Today is a great day, Hero thought, as he whistled and sat in front of the TV, grabbing the remote and going back to the part of the film that they lost because of all the shenanigans. 

It was a little bit hard, but with some struggles he managed to not be hit in the face by a kick.

Today was a really good day.

“Hero!!! Hero you can’t do this with your own brother! Hero!!”

The sun was already setting and that let a dance of orange, yellow and red fill the room. Such beautiful and calm scenery. 

The taller one adjusted the bundle in his arms, eyes still glued on the screen, a satisfied smile grazing his mouth.

Peace.

“We can watch another movie! The popcorn will get cold and taste horrible and munchy and wither and then you’ll have to make another bowl and- No! Hero!”

One of the older's hands was lifted, his fingers clawing the air and chasing the squirming torso with a skill and tranquility of someone who played the same game a handful of times before and would keep playing it for plenty of times more.

He attacked.

Kel squealed, laughter immediately spilling freely from his lips as the wiggly, playful hands squeezed his sides non stop, fingers spidering and teasing the skin for a few seconds before chasing the lovely high pitched snickers that always appeared when Hero wormed his hands under his torso and tickled the base of his spine, prodding and poking his way to there and going back to attack his sides every time the younger tried to wiggle away.

As the clawing hands got bored, their curious fingers began hiking the sinuous patch to his armpits - being careful to scratch on each one of his ribs in the way, of course. What kind of a brother would he be if he denied their necessary dose of tickles? - which automatically made Kel titter non stop and his arms trash and skip around, in failed attempts to push such an unfair, horrible, tickly and silly attack away. 

However, everytime he tried to do that it was only to have the skittering fingers jumping away to dance on his belly, making his hands get out of the way and go back to clamping on his mouth to hide the traitor snorts away. This was the same technique Hero did everytime he tickled him and the fact that it still worked even after all those years only made his reactions grow stronger and giggli-er. Hero chuckled, starting, once again, the whole cycle of climbing and going back and then clawing up, up, up, getting higher every time the loop was repeated.

Uncontrollable laughter, tittering squeals, loud squeaks and high pitched yelps stumbled in the room in flocks and waves, stumbling right out of his mouth and spreading a funny kind of warmth all across his face and chest. A warmth that fought with the creeping cold that clued in his bones since the beginning of the day and scared away with a giddy, electric kind of energy the exhaustion on his moves, replacing them with kicks, wiggles and plentiful of squirms that always got him almost tumbling out of the lap and the trap he was in only for Hero to playful complain something about “running away from their brotherly quality time” and pull him right back at his previous blushy and giggly predicament.

And Kel remembered why this was one of his favorite movies. Because there wasn’t any Cosmic Boy without Hero, and there wasn’t any Hero without fun, without the sensation that he wasn’t alone, of a hand extended in his direction and attentive eyes that found and smiled at him on his quietest days. There wasn’t a Hero without the certainty that there wasn’t anything in this world that he couldn’t fix make it better by just being embarrassingly charming or a dork or an annoying older brother that would still try to get him to play his favorite game even if Kel was complaining about being too old and being insufferable the whole way.

So, Kel couldn’t really bring himself, even between his crackles because Hero kept focusing on this horrible, awful, terrific, unfair spot right in the middle of his ribcage and nononono! That is too ticklish! Very, very ticklish!! Get away, gehet away, stohohohop- , to mind the whole playful and honestly childish attack. 

That was when Hero got to his armpits, positioned his thumbs on the sensitive flesh and began drumming.

The resulting screeching was so loud that it made their windows shake.

Nevermind. Forget everything Kel said before, his older brother was evil and mean and this is the most horrible game to ever exist.

“Oh my god, I forgot how bad your armpits were.” Hero’s chuckles evolved to wheezes as he stopped his tickle attack to try to gather himself together and not fall in peals of laughter after such a loud reaction. 

Kel was still squirming, rolling from one side to another in an attempt to dislodge the offending hands out of his armpits and body instinctively jumping away when his own movements made the fingers graze and tickle the spot unintentionally, even if they stopped moving a few seconds ago. Yet, the knowledge that they were still there and that they could attack at any moment made tiny, buzzy shocks run across his torso and tickle his nerves and smile. 

Tears gathered on the corner of his eyes while airy chuckles intertwined freely with his protesting squeaky, fast laughter.

“Let me gohohoho!” But, his sentences couldn’t summon a single drop of true irritation or heat to fill them, especially when accompanied by such a gigantic, tittering grin and half hearted pushes. “Shuhuhut up!”

“Sorry, sohohorry! I swear I didn’t mean to laugh.” Hero said, laughing. “But your face was just-”

And he fell in a sea of sniggers again.

A sudden idea made Kel’s eyes sparkle and a teasy tune take over the corners of his smirk.

“Yeah? Bet it wasn’t as funny as this!”

And then his hands flew to Hero's sides, kneading there like there was no tomorrow.

Hero, in his turn, gasped in surprise at the feeling, his laughter getting stronger and quieter as the taller one tried to become a defensive ball, only to have his plans ruined by the younger boy laying still on his lap, his entire torso shaking with the force of his snickers and crackles.

"See? Pretty funny, huh? You can't even stop laughing!" 

Hero shook his head, the tip of his ears getting red.

"No?" Kel began crawling his hands downwards on the sensitive flesh until… there it was! Hero's head shot backwards, hiccups and snorts falling freely when Kel focused on delivering pinches on the hip bones with joy. "For someone who doesn't think this is funny, I think you're laughing a lot, huh, don't you think, Hero? Huh? Huh? Don't you think that this is funnyyyy~"

With an enormous force Hero managed to pull a whole sentence between his laughter. "I-I was supposed to snrk- to be the one cheering you uP!"

"And it's working!! Look how much happy I am for WINNING this fight and obliterating you with tickles right now! Ha!" Kel shouted triumphantly, letting the hips go in order to tease the unprotected neck of his brother.

However, he miscalculated Hero's stamina, and such a mistake couldn’t be left forgotten as two hands glued on his wrists with a firm grip and pulled them away. Shiny brown eyes found his.

"Oops." Suddenly, Kel’s voice got a much wobblier tune.

"W-winning the tickle fight, you say?" The way Hero's smile - even between breathless gasps and tiny hiccups - got shark-like made every siren scream in alert inside the younger's brain. "Lehehet me assist you, then."

"No! Wait!" But the other did not, in fact, wait, pulling the arms until they were pinned above his head, palms facing upwards. "Hero, I am already cheered up! I promise!"

“I don’t think so, Kel.” Hero positioned one of his hands on the other’s wrist, the tip of his fingers scratching the skin with soft and unbearable scribbles that made goosebumps run across his arms. Then, because Hero was an unfair meanie with no heart, he began walking the playful, tickly digits to the inside of his forearm. “Besides, the planet of the snickering elbows came all the way from the other side of the universe just to see you.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Planets can’t get people!!” Kel tried with all his will to pull his trembling ticklish arms from their torment only to feel a series of squeaky giggles climb up his throat, obliging him to concentrate all his efforts in not combusting in a mess of titters and giggles. 

“Do you think so? Because I think that the planet of the snickering elbows is getting closer and closer to someone’s very ticklish and very snickery arms…”

“I-I-I am nohot” He gave up, letting the uncontrollable and high pitched snickers wash them as his squirms grew stronger with all the giddiness filling his muscles and shooting like electricity across his nerves. “Tihihihihihicklish!! I am not ticklish!”

Hero’s expression got amused. “You’re not ticklish?”

His fingers focused in teasing and dancing happily on every inch inside his elbow, blunt nails creating and senseless doodles with every scribble and a couple or two of soft pinches that never failed to make the younger’s laughter get even higher and faster.

And still, Kel stubbornly shook his head. “Ihihi am not!”

“So, all these hilarious tickly-tickles aren’t affecting you at all?” Kel just continued to shake his head vehemently, laughing and smiling like nothing else mattered in his life, wrinkles on the corner of his eyes and nose scrunched up. “Not even a little bit? A silly-billy bit? A coochie coochie coo?” 

Kel’s kicks were renewed, the words falling between his lips being too much lost in between titters and squeals to be understood. If this was a protest against Hero’s embarrassing teases or the fact that his fingers were slowly and carefully crawling across his upperarms to his armpits was impossible to say.

Being the good, lovely brother who cared about his little bro’s wellbeing above everything else, Hero decided to keep doing both.

“Great!” Digging under his arms, Hero had to elevate his voice so he could be heard above the hysteric crackles of Kel. “Because the game just started. Do you know who else came to pay a visit to their favorite giggly boy? The planet of the hilarious beetroots…~”

Hands suddenly free, Kel only had a second before he felt his feet being held in a headlock. “And they would loooove to play This Little Pig with you again!”

And, of course, Kel should know that, in the position that he was, maybe it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to provoke the tickle monster that he called brother anymore.

But, the movie was still playing in the background, and soon enough they would be getting to the middle of it, which means that they probably would have to rewind all the way back to the beginning to watch it properly. And Hero had those dangerously joyful shine in his eyes that he hadn’t seen for a long time and Kel felt it would be a long time until he would be able to stop the chuckles and giggles that played run and catch in the room.

So, yeah, maybe if he stayed quiet, they would just go back to the game and soon everything would be over.

But he wasn’t much of the whole ‘being a quiet guy’ now, was he?

“Yohou’re sohohoho pfffft- hehe stupid!”

Hero’s smirk got wider.

And then, once again, he attacked.

(...)

“Hey, Hero?”

His brother hummed from his desk, showing that he was paying attention. It was night but the younger knew his brother would still pull one or two hours of study before following his lead and going to sleep. The lights of the room were still on but that was fine, Kel never had problems to fall asleep with them anyway. Especially after such an eventful day. He could already feel his eyelids droping close as he adjusted his blanket.

“Do you think that one day I will be as good as you?”

He didn’t look up, but by the sound of their old, badly lubricated office chair being moved, he knew that Hero was now staring at him.

This time, he waited in silence, not filling it with whatever word came to rest on the tip of his tongue.

Hero’s voice was soft as it floated in the night. “I think that I would be a very lucky guy… if someday I got to be half as cool as you.”

Kel snorted.

“Still,” he continued, “we’re both doing a good job at being just ourselves, don’t you think? It wouldn’t be very interesting if we just became like each other or you became like me. Your basketball group would certainly start a mutiny, and the fabric of orange joe would go bankrupt.”

“But… more than anything” and then Kel looked up, because that was Hero’s emotional voice and he could count in the fingers of one hand the moments he got like that (most of them weren’t good ones). “I would miss you a lot, Kel.” 

Ah.

Kel smiled and it soon evolved to a fun kind of chuckle.

“Heh. Thank you, Hero. You’re not going to start crying over me, are you?”

“Maybe.”

“Old man.”

“Old and taller than you.~”

A calm sort of silence poured in gentle drops over them.

Kel took a deep breath.

“I got a C on my test today.”

“Really?” Hero’s frown quickly eased when he saw the conflicted gaze in his brother’s face. “And how was it?”

“I tried very hard and it was biology! I love biology. And it was not even a bad grade! I could have gotten a D or even a F and failed the subject.” As quick as it came, his irritation went away, body too light and too sleepy to cling to it for too long, anyway. “I got more than half of the questions right.”

“That is great.” Hero replied, sincerely, not having a single idea of how that only sentence washed over the younger one like a breeze of relief. “Hey, when your tests are all over, we should have some ice cream to celebrate, what do you think?”

Happier, Kel could already feel the dream realm reclaiming him, so, before he fell asleep, a quick, glad answer was pushed from his mouth.

“Yeah. We totally should.”

For a second, he could almost hear a fond sigh and a faint “good night”.

The day hadn’t started great, but Kel couldn’t really deny that last sentence.

This was a good night. Indeed.

[musashi]

now that the dust has settled and i am fully confident i was not in the wrong i can say for certain the funniest thing anyone has ever spitefully said about me post-friendship-breakup is "you made the conversation feel like a cross-examination"

[icewindandboringhorror]

a boye whom'st loves to attack paper balls

[thefandomcassandra]

Finished Apollo Justice

I'm fine

[arsenicflame]

i really liked my tags on this post so i wanted to touch them up and post them as a stand alone! i ended up adding quite a bit to this ''':)

What artistic skill does Izzy possess?

I think he has a lot of 'practical' artsy skills. he’s decent at sewing (mending your own clothes isn't just useful, it's almost a requirement at sea with limited possessions and resources) he's probably decent at braiding hair from having to splice rope- simply anything with roots in being useful I think he has done enough to be decent at by this point in his life.

Singing comes into this as well, holding a rhythm is important for certain sailing tasks, and while I think he can sing in ways that don't translate to shanties, I don't think he has utilised this in a long long time (so excited that we are apparently getting an Izzy singing scene in s2!!!! I need him to know he can have fun)

Another thing is I think he was a really good tattoo artist! I don't actually see him as having the creativity to come up with interesting and unique designs but I do think he is excellent at the act itself, and at copying requested designs. you need a swallow? an anchor? a ship? any common sailors tattoo? he can absolutely do it and it will probably be the best tattoo you have. it was always a mark of honour if you could convince him to do yours on the Queen Anne- he was very busy and didn't often do them, and definitely wouldn't do them if he didn't respect you. He's done a lot of Ed's 'quality' tattoos (though I think Ed also does a lot on himself), he's done tattoos for Fang, and Ivan, and he will do them for the rest of the kraken crew in the future. (he will even do one for Lucius one day, one of his own pieces of art as long as its not an Ed face or a dick. They understand each other now)

anything else? I don't know, I see him very much as, he won't let himself do things if they aren't practical. his canon whittling is as close as he gets and that's more of a 'thing to do with your hands while watching the deck' kind of thing. have knife will whittle

I think ultimately, Izzy doesn't let himself do things for himself. if you love something, if you have a soft spot, it can be targeted, taken away.

I do think he maybe dances though. He always plays it off as something Ed forces him to do when they're drunk/on shore but... he loves it- the motion; the reliance on another partner and the intimate understanding of exactly what they're gonna do next? I think he would love that actually.

I think dancing might be the one thing he always does for fun. He never lets himself have it, but if Ed demands a partner? Yes, of course, anything for his Captain.

(Ed always demands a partner. he likes dancing well enough but he likes seeing Izzy do it more- he knows Izzy will never do it on his own, he understands why, but Ed is Blackbeard. Nobody fucks with Blackbeard- and if he wants to dance? if he wants his first mate to dance? they're fucking dancing.)

but that's not the truth of the situation, really.

It always takes him a second to let his guard down, but he relaxes into it. He lets himself loose in a way Ed only sees when he's deep into the rhythm of a swordfight. And perhaps it's the same, to him- finding the flow of the battle, of the music. Feeling his partner, understanding them and being understood in return? It's all the same- but dancing is safe. Dancing is fun. In a swordfight there are stakes- and he loves the stakes, he loves that this thing that means everything to him matters, but sometimes, just sometimes, it really is nice to move like that in a way that doesn't matter.

And when they really get going- all twirls and jumps and frankly being a little ridiculous, Izzy laughs. A deep belly laugh, a kind of joy you didn't think was possible from him. But here he is, letting go at last. He laughs and he smiles and he feels such joy, the rest of the world melts away, and it is just him and his partner, dancing.

(later- much, much later, a man will play a battle song over their raids, a jaunty little tune that throws off everyone they fight against, and Izzy gets to dance, and fight, and feel free, unburdened by the weight that he's carried with him his whole life. They'll dance after too, and he will have finally found a place where he completely belongs)

(if you liked this, can I recommend Talking Bodies by ItsClydeBitches, i feel like that fic fits the themes of dancing incredibly well)

[torgawl]

SOEMONE IS REALISTIC AHSNWHSJSJ