#must love speedsters

[my-writings-and-musings]

Transformers ROTB

Fluffy Mirage x Reader

I have no more thoughts, there is only Mirage. I already posted a fic of him to my 18+ blog, but I love seeing this mech being a cute little nerd as well. Please enjoy this fic where reader wakes up at night for a drink and Mirage doesn't want to stop snuggling.

Fair warning there might be quite a lot of ROTB content incoming!

Unexpected thirst woke you from your deep sleep rather quickly, thrusting your bleary mind into an environment it didn't immediately recognize. Panic had no time to set in before you realized you were in your garage, with a thoroughly demolished couch below you and a very affectionate bot snoozing away at your back. The two of you must have fallen asleep after turning off the TV...

Mirage made a small sound at your back before curling more tightly around you, pulling the arm he had under your middle close to secure your back snugly against his front as he murmured something snarky in his dreams. Smiling at the adorableness, you realized rather swiftly that getting up for a drink without waking the sleeping bot would be a challenge. You weren't being held especially tightly, but the soldier was a light sleeper, and the smushed couch remains beneath you were rather noisy when disturbed. Were you not so thirsty, you'd have just settled back into his arms and gone to sleep.

Deciding to try your luck, you began scootching your way downwards to try and ease out of the mech's grip, moving slowly so as not to brush any part of him along the way. Mirage continued to twitch as he dreamt, snoring lightly as you tenderly pushed his arm away from your middle. Once you got free and began inching away from the warm little nest the two of you had created, it occurred to you that the mech had probably pulled you close after you'd fallen asleep but before doing so himself, as the last thing you remembered was resting your eyes while sitting on his lap.

The affection stirred by that thought compelled you to turn around for a look at him recharging in all his adorableness, and you smiled before continuing your crawl. It would be delightful to return to his arms after facing this cold open air...

A loud creak from the smushed springs and wood beneath your knees made you freeze, heart skipping as you looked back in a rush.

Mirage awoke with a start, optics onlining with a few quick blinks before he focused on you and calmed considerably, alarm fading to sleepy confusion. "Babe?"

"I'm just going to get some water, be back in a second." you explained gently, moving in to plant a quick kiss on his forehelm. To your surprise, the speedster pulled you in without a word, hugging you back against his chassis as if you were a cat. Sputtering in surprise, you allowed yourself to be smushed with only moderate flailing, so accustomed to being handled you no longer felt too off put even when caught off guard.

"Nooooo, don't go..." he whined softly, playfully tightening his grip on you as if he never intended to let go. The sleepy antics were quite in character, and you only rolled your eyes as he nuzzled his helm against yours, mussing up your hair in the process. You accepted the affection for a few moments before trying to pull yourself away once more, throat protesting yet again for a drink.

"I'm only going to the kitchen." you reminded him, the door to the room in question quite literally within sight. In just the time he'd taken for these antics you could have been halfway done with your task, thanks largely to the tiny size of the adjoining house, but logic rarely kept Mirage from doing much of anything. In fairness, you'd have been happy to go back to sleep were you not still so thirsty. The lovable bot was very good at cuddling.

"Hmmm, fine..." he conceded with dramatic disappointment, releasing you before crossing his arms and pouting. As soon as you crawled away he upped the ante, wrapping his arms about himself and shivering pathetically and putting on the most over the top puppy optics you'd ever seen. "Brrrr, so cold... hope I don't freeze out here all alone."

"You'll survive until I get back." you promised with a roll of your eyes. Certain he was pouting at the back of your head the entire way, you quickly crossed the furbished garage and slipped into the dark house, using the ample moonlight to guide you through the dark kitchen. After grabbing a much needed glass of water and finishing it with a few greedy gulps, you hurried back to the garage, eyes slightly more adjusted to the dark by the time you opened the door. You doubted the entire affair took more than two minutes.

"Oh, Y/N, is that you? It's been so long..." Mirage said with mock weakness from the far side. Curled up in a pitiful position he'd obviously posed for maximum effect, the speedster shivered as if he'd been left abandoned for hours, the mock pain in his optics barely covering the mischevious delight in their depths.

"I was gone for five minutes." you reminded him with a yawn, wanting nothing more than to curl up in the flattened couch once more. It was surprisingly comfortable for something multiple bots had reduced to a pile of stuffing, but the mech you shared it with probably had a lot to do with that.

"Nearly enough time for me to freeze to death. Now get back here, I need my little space heater." Mirage said, abandoning his act to beckon you over.

"Letting that go because I'm so tired..." you promised, rubbing your eyes as you crawled back onto the couch remains. The mech eagerly assisted you, helping to bring your back against his front just as you'd been before whilst he snagged a spare blanket to lay over your shoulders. Being pulled in close allowed you to feel the subtle warmth that radiated from his own frame, as well as the tender hum of his spark and the gentle caress of his EM field brightening at your presence. When he looped his arm around your front once more, you happily hugged it close, and his demeanor softened all around you.

"Mmm, much better." he purred, curling about you as the both of you settled in once more. Loosely holding his hand, you snuggled against him and began to drift off once more, smiling as he murmured a final goodnight after thinking you were already asleep. "Sweet dreams, bunkmate."

[popponn]

bits and such, about him.

summary: he loves you in his own way. (aka expanded hcs on how he shows his love to you)

note: i want an isagi so bad at this point i will just cry. also i miss sae. nagi is kinda there ig (jk nagi u shojo protag). sometimes thinking about these guys are very comforting even when it comes out as pure brainrot. warning: none, just fluff. isagi is downbad, sae is a house cat variant, and nagi is something else. reader's gender unspecified, implied post canon au.

characters: isagi, sae, nagi

isagi falls in love with you again and again over the smallest things. it could be you rearranging your things, it could be you looking up to the sky, it could be you crouching alongside him, it could be you laughing at something he finds actually unfunny—repeatedly, without fail it keeps happening. in these sorts of moments, it is very obvious too. his breath would come to a halt slowly, his shoulder sagged, his mouth opening into a silent gape, all while his blue eyes would stare at you, filled with feelings that are impossible to word out. his signs are obvious enough that even strangers could know them. the worst thing is that on times like this, it means isagi yoichi's infamously smart brain will go on a holiday for a bit. adding to the fact that his eyes rarely leave you whenever you are in his vicinity, this means it happens a lot in a public setting. after the third time of seeing this happening right in front of them, most of his friends sort of agree that it would be best to leave the lovesick, down-bad isagi alone. more for their sakes because all they get is either a dumb "huh" that is very cute actually or a very angry, on-field tone of "shut the fuck up fucking donkey i'm admiring right now" which unfortunately did happen to a genius, a speedster, and a king. it nearly ended in a bloodbath multiple times but at least you know he is a man that could not be moved.

sae likes it when you play with his hair and vice versa. the annoying thing, though, is that he rather doesn't say shit for three days than admitting this to your face. some call it an acute case of terrible communication skill some call it kuudere rizz—nobody knows which one is the correct term but the good thing is this guy speaks louder through his action than his words. which mean acting like a spoiled house cat with shitty attention seeking tendencies—where you could be working or resting your exhausted leg and without any warning, you will have his head on your lap. don't bother protesting, you will lose the inevitable staring contest. just play with his hair, comb it, pat it, arrange it while praising him—just spoil him. and if he says "your hair is wet" even right after you dry it off, just sit down and let him " dry" your hair. no, it's not an alibi to have you chatter while he listens and touches your hair. no, he does not kiss you on the hair you are imagining shit. and no don't let anyone touch your hair. sae's possessive streak is a rare thing but if anyone touches your hair, that's just asking for it. honestly, it will be easier for both of you if he just says "hey can we forego the hairdryer and have your head on my lap instead this time" but this is an itoshi bloodline elder. the best he could manage is just suddenly burying his face in your hair or suddenly touching it when he is not in the mood to play a game. again, like a cat just taking something he wants. the cat is handsome and loving in his own way though.

nagi turns out to be a very very vocal person when it comes to you. aw, he must be away for a week because of a match? good luck to everyone on his team because he will whine about it every minute or so. some wanted to murder him, but thank god, an "if you look cool don't you think they will be happy?" is enough to shut him up—on camera at least. and wow he thinks you look good in your clothes? you will know it. nagi will say "wear it again", " it suits you", and many other short sentences indeed—he is still not a wordsmith—but simply by the sheer frequency of his praise? everyone and their grandma will know it. one time a brave, poor soul asked him "why the fuck are you so noisy about them?!"—and turns out it is simply because he likes your reaction to his words. you could respond back with cheer, with a calm suave, or sometimes flustered laugh, and nagi eats those up. remember to have special reactions for him though, since he is not above copying a koala or maybe some flirty toucan to have those. nagi has been a tad bit shameless though, despite everything, therefore maybe it's not unsurprising that he kinda of becomes after getting together with you. (in the background, niko nods sagely, "i see. so it's like your oshi character who you want every info of from a dating sim." while barou snaps with a "fucking what?" nagi takes a second to think, and goes, "...kinda." which is obviously an understatement.)

[tornado1992]

The world does not deserve some things.

It doesn’t deserve destruction, hate or cruelty.

Sonic has known this for quite a while, being some sort of fighter for nature or a so called “protector” of it by a lot of people, he’s not so sure about that though.

Just as the world can be beautiful it can become dreadful, the world gives origin to everything in it, and that everything is part of the world itself.

The people that live in it are the part that shows the contrast the most clearly, just as some inhabitants are kind, take care of each other and enjoy the wonders it has to offer, there was a few of them that seemed to spite everything that wasn’t like them, everything they didn’t like, and everything that wasn’t theirs. Sonic knows that, he’s been fighting that enough time to be named a protector.

All things considered, to him the world still meant kindness, endless opportunities, adventure… and it meant freedom.

Then it meant something else.

Between all his fighting and running, he met and befriended a lot of the ones that called him a hero before he could even process the title, some of them energetic, some hotheaded, and some unbothered, they reminded him that even if there was despair or tragedy, the world he knew and loved was still there.

At least it was there to him.

Getting to know all the world meant getting almost as much deception and anger as happiness, every new place meant new sceneries, new ways, and new people, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if it meant taking all the damage himself, getting to know everything personally was better than blindly trusting anything he was told, he knew it was worth it; he confirmed it when he went through one of the worst parts to find the absolute best one.

The place wasn’t even bad looking, the nature growing harmoniously beside the artificial work, it gave a peaceful kind of vibe, the people seemed kind and respectful, kids playing and chasing each other while adults looked out for them from afar, even welcoming him with open arms not caring if he was a stranger, “a united and caring community”, no sight of conflict or cruelty came to view, they didn’t seemed to have any hate in them. Only kind words and even warm chilli dogs greeted him. He thought this was the kind of place he would fight for.

That thought lasted less than an hour.

It really doesn’t take much longer than 10 minutes to completely change your perspective of a so called perfect community when after thirty minutes of an apparent peaceful environment you notice the sick looking child they suddenly chase down the woods so he doesn’t “steal their food and gives them bad fortune”. Sonic gives them a full minute of doubt, doubt to himself as what he’s hearing and seeing, because that can’t be right, because it must be a mistake. What reason could there be for a kid to “give bad luck”? Why would a kid need to “steal” food? And why would he be called a “curse”?

Some villager takes a long four minutes to explain the reason for all that, falling down to “that mutant was born with two tails”.

Sonic spends the next five minutes looking for the kid, and restraining himself from committing several crimes.

He had to focus, ending a full village’s whole career can wait, what cannot wait is the fox kit that just ran away from a group of kids leaving a trail of blood behind him. Even in the thick forest tundra it’s easy to see the big droplets of blood on the tree branches, the ground, and the tiny bush that kept trembling.

That’s where he found him.

A fox kit, didn’t looked any older than two, but by what he heard he could even be four. He looked way too tiny to be around four.

Big baby blue eyes greet him, a glassy sight, sorrow, confusion and sadness behind them.

The moment the fox noticed the speedster he tried to run, but the bush was too thick around him, and his back was facing a big tree log, he was trapped, the kid flinched every time he moved towards him, whined whenever Sonic rose to stand, and even started silently tearing up while curling around his tiny bruised body when he tried to reach for him. This kid thought Sonic wanted to hurt him.

How much does a kid has to suffer for his first reaction to some one approaching him being to cry, tremble and try to protect themselves?

Sonic can’t decide what enrages him more, the matted brown fur that surely must mean a long time without proper care for it, the bruised skinny body that trembled every few seconds as if it couldn’t stand by itself, the obviously recent bleeding nose that made the fox kit whimper every time he breathed, or the so clear loud sound of an empty stomach.

This was the result of long period of abuse and neglect, and by the way the kid hugged his twin tails while crying, Sonic would even call it torture.

Sonic couldn’t help him without getting close to him, but the kit wouldn’t let him near him without flinching. Putting the kid through more distress was not an option, but leaving him alone wasn’t one either, and the kid needed help, so he stayed. Sitting beside the trembling bush, taking watch in case some of those hollow hearted villagers came back while thinking of a way of helping the kid.

This is not the kind of help Sonic is used to offer, but he cannot just leave the kit alone. Even if he didn’t know anything about taking care of younger kids, even if his first aid kit was almost empty in his plane far away from him, even if the fox cried at the very sight of him, Sonic won’t leave him alone.

He doesn’t remember feeling like this before. Frustrating, he remembers some adults calling it, a feeling of helplessness, anger, and even sadness that consumes one self through the impossibility of effective action, in his case, the impossibility of helping.

And so he found himself, frustrated, sitting on the forest ground while rubbing his eyes with his hand, who knew, frustration is stressful; he kept at that for a few long minutes, until he felt a slight touch in his back. Finding those big blue eyes when he turned his head, a tiny gloveless paw patting him gently, careful with his quills but yet touching them, trying to comfort him.

This kid could barely stand, was obviously scared, at the verge of tears, and hurting from the beating the other kids gave him; and he was trying to make Sonic feel better.

It was clear now, they didn’t seemed to have any hate in them because they put all the cruelty and hatred in a kid, an innocent, tiny, and so kind hearted kid. The same village that greeted Sonic with kind words and offered him warm food was willing to let a literal toddler starve, if he wasn’t killed by the village’s youngest inhabitants first. All over something that wasn’t even bad, it wasn’t even his fault.

That won’t do.

Looking less distressed than before but still trembling wasn’t an ideal state to approach the twin tailed kit, but again, the kid needed help, the most urgent now being probably first aid, but Sonic sadly knew that the thing that would calm down the kid more would be something to eat.

Sonic offered him a smile, an attempt to soothe him, standing as slowly as he could not to scare the kid, and running as fast as his legs allowed him to return with four chili dogs was the game plan, managing to startle the kid a little bit with his rushed return, with the most difficult part of the plan being convincing the kid that the food was for him, that he could eat, that it wouldn’t hurt him, that Sonic wouldn’t hurt him.

Words might be useful to communicate that, but they just might, this kid was obviously casted away from society, who knew since when, he might not even understand him, well, if he used words that is, for now he hopes his smile would do (that and him eating a chili dog himself so the kit would know it’s safe).

It took a while, but it seemed like the fox’s empty stomach finally convinced him to eat, his hands trembling as he grabbed the supper, eyes getting a different kind of teary as he took his first bite, his twin tails wagging as he devoured his second chili dog.

Sonic wasn’t much of a baby person, sure they were cute and all he didn’t saw the big deal, all babies were the same. But seeing this little kid, a hurt toddler, starting to smile and wet his eyes over something as simple as warm food.. while a part of him was burning with rage, another part of him couldn’t help but think that he wanted to see this kid truly smile.

He wonders how could anyone see this kid with anything but love.

So he stayed around him, always with a smile, but even bandages, chili dogs, and big smiles couldn’t help much with the kids perspective of the word, much less the perception of himself.

The only world the fox knew before Sonic was a merciless one, rejection, hate and cruelty being its main traits, with bad people who would hunt him down, hit him and hurt him because he was the bad one, just for existing in the same time and place as all of them, but not being the same as them. He believed he really was the bad one for some time.

Sonic wouldn’t allow that for any longer, so he took the best part of the world with him and never planned to return it.

His life wasn’t the ideal deal for a toddler, he couldn’t give him a traditional family structure, a roof over his head, or a warm bed, but he also didn’t trusted anyone else to take care of him, he didn’t trusted the world to take care of him. So he would take the job himself, this kid wouldn’t go a day without warm food, he would never lack shelter, and as long as Sonic was around, he would always protect him.

But Sonic still was a hero.

Sonic fought and ran, ran and fought, and when the running and fighting from him alone seemed like not enough, the kit didn’t even doubted risking his own life to help him.

After a life of suffering, as little and scared as he was, at barely four years old, he still wanted to protect the world that wronged him.

The world doesn’t deserve this kid.

But it was the world itself that gave Sonic the title of protector, guardian, and hero; he knows there are things worth fighting for, far more than the things that wouldn’t deserve any kind of protection.

He won’t deny the title, ever.

Because even if some day everything around him comes down, everyone gets mad and bad, and his own hope is questioned, he’ll still have a reason to fight.

After all, this kid is his world.

[c-nstantine]

omg hi how’s your day?

I know that like bruce wayne and batfam reader is your main focus but could you do Clark x Black reader. I like completely see Clark as a head over heels himbo. He totally worships the ground reader walks on and she absolutely loves it. Makes her feel proud probably cause she has superman wrapped around her finger.

Barry was bored, to say the least. As a speedster, it was not a complete surprise that he would find himself in boredom, while he began his shift on the Watchtower. He was ninety-nine percent sure that he had bothered every member of the league he could except Batman. There had to be a way to get out of the literally the least fun part of being a Justice League member and then he remembered. Clark Kent, Superman, would always take another person's shift if they asked nicely.

Just as the thought went through his head, Clark walked by the large monitor screen. Barry smirked to himself, thinking that he had finally gotten out of this terrible duty.

"Hey, Clark. I forgot I had a report due and I forgot my laptop. Do you mind covering my shift?" Did Barry feel bad for lying to the literal embodiment of a puppy? Yes, yes he did. However, monitoring duty would make him feel worse.

"I can't, I have a date with Y/N tonight," Clark said with a grin. He quickly dashed off and reappeared with a black laptop in hand.

"Who's Y/N" Barry asked. Y/N might've been mentioned in a meeting that he pretended to pay attention to. Clark placed the laptop next to Barry. Upon closer inspection, Barry could see that it was Clark's work laptop and Clark must be letting Barry borrow it for the made-up report that Barry has to do.

"She's my girlfriend," Clark said with the dopiest voice ever and a smile from ear to ear.

"Oh,"

-

"Baby, can you do my heel buckles, please?" Y/N asked Clark. She was wearing a fitted brown dress that complimented her skin tone perfectly and it stopped just above her knees. Her heels were a dark nude with a strap that went over her foot and another across the ankle.

"Of course, Y/N," Clark said getting on one knee. He looked rather dapper with his white collared shirt and black slacks. His glasses were a little crooked and Y/N adjusted them a little.

"You look so pretty on your knees for me," Y/N mumbled and Clark flushed pink. If he was a normal person, he probably wouldn't've heard it but one of the perks of being Superman includes super-hearing. However, it is nice to hear when your girlfriend is thirsting after you.

"We're not gonna make it to our date if you keep talking like that," He said avoiding eye contact only to have his eyes fall onto her cleavage.

"I thought you liked it when I talk like that," Y/N said softly while running her hand through Clark's hair, forcing him to look up at her.

"Yeah but you deserve a proper date with how busy I've been recently," Clark said standing up and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Aww, pookie," She said placing a kiss on his cheek. There was the light red stain on left on his face.

[gatorbites-imagines]

do you think you can do a yandere Jason todd x male reader x Yandere Dick Grayson if you want to that is your a great writer :)

Yandere Jason Todd x male reader x Yandere Dick Grayson

Headcanons

(i couldnt find a gif of just Jason and Dick, so have this one)

So, Jason and Dick are both yandere for the same person here, who’s got powers, cuz duh, I always make the reader a hero or meta. Readers related to Reverse flash, cuz hes one of my crazy meow meows.

I kinda went a little all over the place in the story with this, but I love the idea of speedster powers.

 -          You were called Mach 10, or that was your alter egos name anyways. In the beginning they had called you reverse kid flash since you were to Thawne what Wally was to Barry, except your relationship with Thawne was a lot more confusing.

-          You weren’t sure where you even started, what year you were from, or what reality for that matter, and neither was Thawne. But he saw you had his exact powers, looked like him, at least a little, so he took you under his wing and brought you with him.

-          Thawne is in no way a good person, whatsoever, but he didn’t force you to follow his path. You didn’t have a reason for what you did like Thawne, but part of you liked the feeling of your powers and how strong you were, so you also did crime, though not to the same scale as your father figure.

-          This didn’t mean you were all evil though. You saw yourself as greyer or rather a darker grey. You helped when people were in mortal danger, sometimes, and you always helped if the world was in danger or similar.

-          You could even be convinced to work alongside the flashes, though they were wary of you in the beginning, until you all actually got closer, and you became allies with the likes of Wally or Bart, though they weren’t the biggest fans of your villainy, they knew they couldn’t stop you for the most part.

-          And as long as you weren’t actually hurting people, or you only were hurting actually evil people, they could look past it in a similar way to the league looking past the outlaws and their behavior. Of course, you’d killed innocent people too, you weren’t without flaws, but they didn’t have to know that.

 -          The first time you used your powers to your full potential and jumped through and altered time, or jumped to different dimensions, Thawne was so proud and the two of you went out for ice cream to celebrate.

-          This new world was very similar to your own, and the league of this world must have felt the ripple in the speedforce or reality itself, as the ice cream shop you and Thawne were sitting in soon had a couple of heroes outside.

-          Your father figure rolled his eyes so hard you couldn’t help but giggle, and you two kept on eating your treat as this dimensions Flash cautiously made his way inside, seemingly recognizing Thawne at the very least, though you gave you some wary looks.

-          As the two men talked you ended up speeding outside to get some air, and since you grew extremely bored listening to them discuss why you were here, what you wanted, etc. etc. You flashed past the other heroes outside and decided to check out the different cities this dimension had to offer.

-          As the heroes panicked, Thawne just waved his hand and told them you were fine since you didn’t have a bloodlust like he did, and you were more like a dog hyped up on the speedforce checking out a new patch of grass.

-          Of course none of them trusted Thawne, but its not like anyone but Barry could really keep up with you, and as Thawne left saying you’d leave when you were done, they decided to keep an eye on you instead.

 -          One thing led to another, and you ended up in Gotham, sitting on the edge of a rooftop watching the gloomy city go about their life. Every now and then you’d catch some people glancing up at you, as your bright yellow suit stood out very brightly across the dark city.

-          Your suit was very similar to Thawnes, though you had added your own quirks to it, and the suit had more black mixed with some red patterns, though it was clear your inspiration was from Reverse Flash and not Flash.

-          It was when you were debating on ransacking a store for all their snacks that you noticed this dimensions Red Hood fighting a large number of enemies. He was limping and was struggling to keep up, so you could under assume he had been at this for a while.

-          Shrugging you decided to help, since Red Hood was the only bat you got along with in your universe. With a crackle of black and red lightning, you flashed on over and took out the enemies with ease.

-          You had to hold back from not killing them since you knew the bat wouldn’t be very happy about that, and you remembered Red Hood from your universe didn’t kill as much anymore.

-          Turning around you watched as Red Hood collapsed to his knee with a pained groan, blood vividly pouring down his torso and onto the rooftop.

 -          Jason had no idea who you were or where you came from, but he was too messed up from his fight to do much as you walked over and picked him up like he weighed nothing. Then you sped somewhere else, one of his safehouses that seemed to be the same as the one in your original dimension, and you patched him out.

-          He passed out from blood loss, but when he woke up again you were still there, sitting on his couch watching tv like you owned the place. Seeing as he was awake you went and checked up on him, making sure he wasn’t dying or anything.

-          That’s when Jason finally demanded to know who the hell you were, or how you knew about his safehouse. You just laugh and reach up to push you cowl off, introducing yourself as Mach 10, and saying you were just a visitor from a different dimension.

-          Jason would never admit it but the moment he saw your face the seeds of obsession were sown, and as you stuck around for the rest of the day you two started talking and found out you had a lot in common.

-          And when you didn’t judge him for his violent ways and he learned you resorted to violence and murder as well, he felt some kind of kinship with you, only deepening the already brewing obsession and love.

-          You end up figuring out the Red Hood of this world never stopped using real bullets, he just kills less than before, but still puts and end to the lives of the worse kinds of people.

 -          After that, much to Batman’s annoyance, you stuck around Gotham, though you mainly stuck around Crime Alley. You started to become Red Hoods terrifying yellow shadow. There were rumors you were some kind of opposite to Signal, but they people saw your use of speed, and it became obvious you weren’t a bat.

-          You had never been one much for boundaries, so when Jasons obsession grew over time and he started to touch you like grabbing you, holding your hand or carrying you around you just let him, knowing you could snap him in half if you needed too.

-          You weren’t the best influence as your own moral compass wasn’t the best, but Crime Alley had never been more safe for the innocent, and you started to actually gather admirers amongst the civilian population.

-          Jason never spoke of how jealous or sick it made him feel to see people cheer for you or take your hand to thank you for saving them. But people never got too far in their hero worship, as you always did something the normal population found terrifying, placing you right back in the untouchable category.

-          But seeing you use the speedforce to rip apart someones atoms or watch you vibrate at a frequency that allowed you to control people, it made people back away and only admire and fear you from a distance.

-          But for Jason it only made you more attractive, and watching you vibrate or as sparks of lightning shot off your body, it only made Jason feel hot under the collar. His obsession with you grew to the point where he would neglect his duties as the Red Hood if you weren’t going out as well, so he could spend more time with you.

 -          Before you arrived Jason had kept up some kind of contact with the batfam since he was lonely or might need support at times, but now that you were there he pretty much stopped all contact as you were all he needed.

-          This worried the bats, but not enough for most of them to do anything about it, except for Dick who decided he needed to get to the bottom of this. So he went to Crime Alley to check on Jason and you.

-          When Dick first met you he couldn’t help but notice how bright and carefree you were, like the weight of the world meant absolutely nothing to you, and looking at you and your powers that might be the truth.

-          But he also couldn’t help but notice how Jason seemed to tense up as he shook your hand, or how his younger brothers hand seemed to be twitching for his gun whenever Dick got a little too close to you.

-          Dick hadn’t ever really been the most mentally stable person, especially in this new dimension he seemed even more unstable in a sense, as he grew interested in you and seemed to ignore the obvious danger that Jason was to him.

-          In the beginning it was just a curious interest for Dick, but like Jason the moment he saw your face the first time without your cowl, his heart stuttered, and his face went red, and he felt like he had to have you.

 -          Like with Jason you did very little to disapprove of his behavior, letting Dick hug you whenever he wanted, or leaving the trackers you knew they both placed on you, knowing your lightning would break them at some point.

-          Dick went out of his way to learn all your interests, and buying you more gifts than you knew what to do with, he might even use his connection to the league to get you speedster based gear that you could use.

-          Jasons jealousy became worse as he clung to you, his eyes pretty much always a constant bright green as pit rage burned in his chest as he watched Dick try to charm you and steal you from him.

-          Up until they point Jason hadn’t made a move on you romantically, but when he saw Dick bring you a brand new herosuit, one that when you put it on hugged your body even more than the last one, he decided enough was enough.

-          It was especially the way Dick seemed to look all over your body in your new suit, or how Dicks hands wandered over your body to “check out that the suit fit” and how he knew Dick kept pictures and recordings of you.

-          Jason hoped Dicks interest would disappear when he watched you mind control someone to kill their entire family and then themselves, as multiple members of the family were innocent or children.

-          But to Jasons extreme annoyance, Dick only seemed to get more interested or feel more drawn to you. Jason was happy you didn’t pay much attention to other people, or else you might have noticed how Dick was aching for you like a cat in heat as he watched you rip out someone’s lungs using the speedforce.

 -          They both knew they couldn’t keep you locked up, they couldn’t even threaten you as you were so much more powerful than them, and you weren’t dumb enough to manipulate.

-          No matter how many plans Jason cooked up, he couldn’t figure out a way to keep you as his and his alone, until one night it just became too much.

-          A woman you had just saved from a criminal pressed up against you, hands rubbing your chest as she told you she could thank you in the best way, but before you could laugh in her face, Jason had shot her.

-          As you turned to look at him in confusion Jason crowded close to you, ripping of his helmet to grab your face and force his lips onto yours. You could easily have broken both his arms, but you didn’t find Jason annoying to be around, so you kissed him back.

-          Jason was over the moon as you kissed him back, his legs growing weak as he started moaning and whimpering against your lips, his knees completely giving out as your tongues clashed, resulting in you having to hold him up.

-          What you both didn’t realize was that Dick had been following you, and had seen the kiss which was enough to snap what little bit of sanity he had left as possessiveness burned so brightly in his chest.

-          He followed you both back to Jasons place where he confronted you two as you got inside, and you were just confused as the two bats started fighting both physically and with words. But when their fighting got a little too extreme you pulled them apart.

-          Dick ended up grabbing you and pulling you close so he could kiss you too, forcing his tongue between your lips as you could taste blood from where Jason must have busted his lip. Jason yelled in rage and tried to fling himself at Dick again, but you just grabbed him and held him against your side.

 -          Where Jason had grown weak in his knees and almost soft at the kisses, Dick seemed to grow controlling, the grip he had on you growing tight to the point it would have hurt a normal person.

-          When the kiss started to feel like you were being devoured by some animal you forced Dick to step back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you told him to control the slobbering.

-          Both Dick and Jason still fought a lot for you, but they also knew they’d have to kill one another to get the other to leave, but you liked them both as a person, so they put up with each other’s presence.

-          They even started sharing the pictures or videos they had, or their collection of stolen items they had taken from you, where dicks most prized possession was your last suit, and Jasons was the original clothes you had been wearing underneath the suit when you first arrived.

-          Dick grew more violent during his patrols as he became almost illusioned by his possessive obsession to you, that he couldn’t let these criminals walk around as they’d want to take you from him or would taint you. This resulted in Dick also cutting most contact with the batfam and the league, as he and Jason were too busy worshipping your very existence.

-          They were both extremely clingy, both inside and outside of suits, and they loved to buy you things or to always be touching you. And though they hated your powers at times since they could never get the upper hand, they both loved how strong you were, or how cruel you were to criminals or just anybody that got in your way.

 -          But one day came that you were growing bored of this dimension, and though you did care for Jason and Dick, you wanted to be on your way and even return to your original dimension.

-          You weren’t a good person, and since you’d never officially put a name on what you were with the two bats, you just packed up what few things you needed on a rare day neither of them were there, put on your suit, left a note, and left using the speedforce.

-          When Dick and Jason realize you left, they both in their delusional minds think there must have been some reason you left, that maybe Thawne forced you or something happened in your original universe.

-          You were the only thing keeping them a little stable, so with you gone they both pretty much lose it and hurt and kill anybody in their way to get you back, which ends up with them finding some gear or machine that uses the speedforce.

-          They somehow had something of yours that is connected to you or your presence in the speedforce that means they can zero the machine in on you, and take them to you. So with the league in shambles around them, they abandon their original Dimension and step into your original dimension, on their search for you so they can stand by you once more.

[salmonight]

DannyMay 2023, Day 15: Full Hazmat AU

Tittle: The Cleaner: First File

Summary: One day green glowing monsters started appearing and attacking cities all over the globe, and with them, arrived 'The Cleaner'. The Justice League has not uncovered any real information about them to this day. Meanwhile, Danny in a full hazmat suit: 'People can't even let me take a friggin nap!!'

One day,  green glowing monsters and people started to appear all along the globe. No one knew where they came from, only that they enjoyed wreaking havoc wherever they showed up. 

With the entities came 'The Cleaner' as they were titled. They always appeared no more than 10 minutes after a villain - from the ‘Green Dimension’, as they named it - showed up, and contained them in ten seconds flat,  immensely helping in keeping the damage to the minimum. 

The only saving grace was that these aliens never got anyone killed. Everyone in the Justice League found this observation extremely bizarre. But even with no casualties,  the repair costs were enormous. 

No matter how much the JL looked, there were never sightings of the figure other than during the fights, when they seemed to appear out of thin air. Internet searches came up blank as well, only filled with excited rants and candid photos taken by civilians. With these, they concluded that “The Cleaner” was either a) a brand new hero previously unknown, or b) from the same dimension the glowing entities came from. The whole League was miffed, with the Bats even more so, collectively losing their shit over having no contingency plans against the unknown figure.

Fully covered in a red and black hazmat suit nobody had a clue about their identity,  even their gender was shrouded in mystery. Somehow their outfit, even without being overly baggy managed to hide any distinguishing bodily characteristics that otherwise would have been visible. 

Until…. one day,  one of the speedsters overheard the ‘Cleaner’s’ rant. 

It went as any of their usual fights with the green monsters did. Not even a few minutes after the beast started to destroy the buildings, their mysterious hero materialized into existence in front of it. Instead of immediately throwing a punch like they expected, ‘The Cleaner’ instead stared at them with the most deadpan expression they could convey with a helmet on. For some reason, the speedster got a huge 'I’m-so-done-with-this-shit' vibe. Or that was just his overactive imagination. It was hard to tell with the headgear on. He must have gotten it right though, because then they tiredly put a palm to their face with one hand, and, without looking, flicked open the lid of a tube and sucked the entity into it with the other.

Surprisingly, The Cleaner didn’t immediately disappear once the monster was gone, so he took a few steps closer as they hung the green, metal tube ( which he could now tell was actually a soup thermos? What? ) back on his belt and pulled out an honest-to-god cellphone.

He didn't even have to strain his ears to listen in on the ensuing phone call since they were talking pretty loudly. And boy, did they sure sound pissed. 

“I swear to the Ancients, Tuck,” the ‘Cleaner’ complained, motioning with their hands aggressively to emphasize their point “If I have to come to fetch another one of these god damned brats I'm gonna treat them the same way they act and build them a time out corner in either the warden’s prison or the palace. I'm pretty sure both Walker and Frightknight would love to teach them a lesson about tact!"

There was a pause as he listened to whoever they were talking to on the other end of the line. “No, I don't care that they’re centuries older than me. If they act like spoiled children they get treated as such!” 

They let out an annoyed harrumph “I was taking a nap, Tuck. A NAP!!! You know I don't take naps! Not to mention I’m retired! What the hell am I? Their nanny? I don’t even get paid to clean up the messes they make! Can't they just keep their ecto ass sitting still in the realm for at least a few centuries to let me take my well deserved break!? But nooooo, these asshats have to make even more paperwork for me to do!" 

“When I told them not to break into Amity anymore I did not mean for them to go to another dimension and terrorize a whole-ass-planet!!!” The ‘Cleaner’ threw up their spare hand in exasperation.

 Their grumbling still could be heard as, with a wave of their hands, a portal opened, made out of a green swirling mass. Ignoring everyone else’s presence they stepped into the portal as it was the most common thing in the world. 

The speedster could only watch and gape at the now empty air. They certainly did not know they could do that. 

Now that he remembers though, they did sound like a male didn't they? He couldn’t estimate their age from the voice as it was very muffled coming through the headgear, but it was definitely not feminine.

And that's how the Justice League got their first ever info about the mysterious ‘Cleaner’.

Finally,  the first real data was entered into the vigilante’s (?) file: 

Name: UNKNOWN 

Alias: “The Cleaner” 

Age: UNKNOWN 

Gender: Male 

Origin: UNKNOWN 

Race: UNKNOWN 

Appearance: UNKNOWN

Power(s): Flight (or hovering,  unconfirmed which), Super strength(?), Teleportation(?), Portal creation (confirmed)

Weakness(es): UNKNOWN 

Costume: A full  black and red hazmat suit. The headgear has a black, unreflective screen that has green orbs (eyes?) shining behind it. Matte black gloves, combat boots and belt. There are compartments added to the belt. Content: UNKNOWN 

Weapon(s): a metal thermos(?) with green accents

Personality: UNKNOWN 

Affiliates: Tuck (?) (no file available)

Takedown plan(s): Impossible to make without further data 

Note:  The entity always deals with the threats quickly and effectively. Their moves speak of prior experience. 

 Ao3

The one that helped betaing this work once again is the lovely Amateum!

My hands were itching to draw something so in a 'why the fuck not' mode i drew Danny's file.

Except as sequel of this with arts and all fellas cuz am already preparing it!

The sketch:

[magnetfamily]

⚡Quicksilver Week is here⚡

From March 25 to March 31 we'll be hosting a whole week dedicated to our favorite speedster as a celebration for his 60th anniversary!

[ID in Alt Text]

Prompt list:

Day 1: Family/Twins

Day 2: Power/Hero

Day 3: Love/Freedom

Day 4: Community/Legacy

Day 5: Lost/Secret

Day 6: Alternative Universe/What if…?

Day 7: Free Day

Event Rules:

This event is about Quicksilver aka Pietro Maximoff so all your submissions must be about him.

To participate all you have to do is use the #quicksilverweek2024 tag and @ this blog. Don't forget to use it in the first five tags.

What can you create for this event? Anything you want! Fanart, fanfiction, edits, videos, metas, cosplay, etc.

Shipping and platonic content are more than welcome.

This event is meant to honor comic Quicksilver, but content of his cartoon and videogame versions are also accepted.

MC.U/XMC.U content won't be accepted, this blog doesn't support the whitewashing of Pietro Maximoff in both live action adaptations.

We also won't be reblogging anything that includes racist or offensive depictions of the character, underage shipping or incest shipping.

N S F W and dark content (excluding the one mentioned previously) will be accepted but we ask you to be mindful with the necessary tags and warnings.

If you have any questions go ahead and send us an ask! We'll be glad to help.

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

[zeroducks-2]

Idk if anyone is interested but in case someone is, yes, Barry reciprocates. Have my exhibits! With pictures!

.Exhibit A!

He keeps looking for Eobard subconsciously, can feel when he's there, his presence alone is able to trigger Barry's memories of past and future lives.

And look, Eobard was right there!

(panels from The Flash Vol.1: Lightning Strikes Twice)

.Exhibit B!

When he finds Eobard dead, Barry spends time with his body in the morgue struggling over how he died, what might have hurt him, observing that "whatever got him must have just slowed him down" (all the while softly whispering to and gently touching Eobard's body).

I can never not be insane over how tenderly he's caressing Eobard's forehead. Might I add that he spends just so much time in the morgue that he's late to his own birthday party. Might I also add that whatever Barry did in that morgue, it brings Eobard back to life. This man literally told his nemesis "come back to me", and Eobard obediently did.

The last panel, that's Eobard's powers reactivating as he's revived, moments after Barry left.

(panels from The Flash Vol.4: Running Scared)

.Exhibit C!

When Godspeed starts killing people, including the woman Barry was dating, Barry is shocked but keeps being willing to forgive if August is willing to stand down. Barry gets beaten up and humiliated and still worries for August, trying to appeal to his rationality and compassion.

But then August makes the mistake to threaten to find Eobard (who at the moment is being tortured a prisoner in Iron Heights), and kill him in front of Barry's eyes. And if Barry has been rational and willing to stop fighting, after the umpteenth time August tries to get to Eobard he loses his entire shit, grabs August by his head and neck and is just about to kill him, in a scene which is a direct parallel to when Eobard forced him to break his neck.

That's apparently what Barry does when someone insists on threatening to kill the people he loves and make him watch. He doesn't kill August of course, but he gets close to it - the moment Barry lets him go August is unconscious for lack of air, he was being choked to death even without the neck breaking part. All because he had threatened to murder Eobard.

This is Barry breaking Eobard's neck to protect Fiona, Barry's fiancee at the time, after he's been incessantly threatened to be forced to watch as he kills her. He did not want to kill Eobard, he felt extremely guilty to the point that now, having killed him is one of his worst nightmares, but he was essentially forced to do it (why Eobard did this to make himself get killed is another interesting and unhinged story for another time). So as you can see, this is how Barry reacts when he gets threatened with the death of someone he loves.

And this also is Barry reacting to the threat of a speedster killing someone he loves. I am in awe with the parallels drawn between these two panels. The same font and stile has been used for Barry's "Not again!" and "No!", and there is the same brutality coming from someone who 99% of the time tries everything but violence to solve any kind of situation. He's entirely out of his mind when he does this.

(panels from The Flash Vol.1: Lightning Strikes Twice)

IN CONCLUSION

Somehow, IDK HOW, Barry does reciprocate in some form. At least in Joshua Williamson's run he does. ...I actually have my theories on the how, which entail these two being each other's lodestone, being irremediably connected through time and space, and Barry having been loved&desired so much and so strongly for so long, both outwardly and through the natural connection of their powers, that at some point he just... started feeling back.

"But Thawne killed his mother!" LISTEN. I KNOW. I think Eo is as confused by this as you and I to be honest. And that's also something about Barry which is very fascinating imo: he will love in spite of everything. Even if the other person doesn't understand it, even if it makes no sense, even if BY ALL MEANS HE SHOULDN'T, even if he hurts, he will still love and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Luckily for Eobard, because there is no one else in the omniverse that ever loved him, and likely ever will.

[lovefrombegonia]

Whenever I read about Yuder using his awakener powers, I think of him fighting like Aang from ATLA or Sypha from the Netflix Castlevania series. Their powers visually are quite similar with them using all the elements. At least, that's what comes to my mind when I hear "can manipulate all natural elements". But it's not the same. I have a bit of trouble visualising how Yuder would look. Sypha is a mage and Aang is a bender. From what I have read until now from the novel, Awakener's powers are very much driven by simple will and instinct. So, for Yuder, especially, after being a commander for almost a decade at a time when his powers were used extensively, as he himself says it's more like being a commander for 20 years experience wise, the use of his powers would be more like using his hands and legs.

Sypha's movements look fluid and effortless but still very mage like. She is using magic she learnt. Aang's is very choreographed too. Obviously, the moves are based on real martial arts.

Disclaimer: In no way am I saying that these two are more or less powerful than Yuder. Just to be clear. This is strictly, a visual thing.

With Yuder Aile, I feel like his movements must look less choreographed and very natural. Like when you allow a skilled dancer to go free style with her favourite music that she listens to every day. Not just effortless, but also almost like muscle memory, or like instinct. Still, I can't think of a visual reference. In the manhwa, his movements are very simple, his just like 🫳🏻🫴🏻✨ and boom! Which does make sense, he has done it over a hundred times. Why would it look like these feats would take effort.

Still, I am eager to see more dynamic movements from him. With the future chapters being more action packed, when he fights the star of Nagran or the western region monsters. When he will unleash his inner "Yudrain", being so fierce that the enemies almost think of him like a scary demon LOL

I also wonder what his wind-water protection shield SOUNDS like? It's said that the shield he creates is so powerful, it can strip skin and flesh from bones if you try to touch it. So, the shield is more like a force field. It should sound like strong stormy winds you hear at night, the sound that enters your room in a thunderstorm through the slight openings of closed windows, almost sounding like a whistle. When creates minor earthquake, his hands shouldn't tremble much but would look like how we move our hand when listening to slow music that we like. But when trying to cut down a whole cliff, like when fighting pethuamet, would it look like he is trying to push down an invisible floor into the ground? Would his hands grab the air like he is actually able to feel the ground from a distance and then feel incredible physical strain when pushing down?

When he is running with the help of wind helping him speed up, what would that look like? Like he is skating in the air, perhaps. Or will he looks like just how we see speedsters run in comic book films. And when he jumps high with the wind, I imagine he would like the martial artists in Wuxian cdramas, jumping and gliding across the bamboo trees. Similar to the characters in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I really can't wait to see him flying into Kishiar's open arms in the Tainu arc *sighs dreamily*

One of my most anticipated uses of Yuder's powers is definitely when he will use it to see Kishiar's different powers surging through his body and enveloping him. It's gonna look so beautiful but the description in the novel was also weirdly ominous. Like the anatomically precise diagram of muscles in the human body. Red, gold, and blue swirls flowing through someone he loves with knots present in various parts, like a blocked artery. Can't wait to see what it all looks like in the manhwa!

Now, imagine if this ever gets animated?? Damn. I will ascend to heavens if that happens!

[tacagen]

did you know that negaduck from darkwing duck was based off reverse-flash? yeah, that doesnt even BEGIN to describe what's actually been going on between their character histories..

first, negaduck wasnt just inspired by or a reverse-flash parody. he's a literal copy-paste of silver age thawne with a very few changes of origin place from future to parallel universe and identity from some random future guy to main hero's evil twin, because originally eobard was fixated on being a Criminal and not particularly flash's nemesis. back in the day, thawne constantly mentions how much he loves his criminal life. half of his lines are negaduck-worthy purely because the rest is related to being a speedster scientist. my personal favorite as an example:

he passes the speed limit law in central city so that barry couldnt use superspeed without breaking it but thawne still could because he is 'a hardened criminal'. he invents rays that turn everything inflicted evil (something even negaduck has never done (ig solely because megavolt's already done it in the negaduck episode where he accidentally splits darkwing into good dw (posiduck) and bad dw(negaduck, with a black and gray color scheme), and while yellow negaduck is a different character this is basically how the idea of him was born and the writers just decided to keep him in a different form bc the gray one merged back into normal dw at the end which is super funny. imagine coming up with a duck villain and going 'oh this guy actually reminds me a lot of reverse-flash with all that opposite/negative thing. LET'S PAINT HIM IN THOSE COLORS AND GIVE HIM THE SAME PERSONALITY AND SIMILAR ORIGIN THIS TIME'), altho he DOES test the power gem on a cat in jail bird like thawne did with evil rays). he repeatedly tries to get poor former dr alchemy back to crime just because 'crime fun. why cant you see that. im doing it for your own good' and negaduck tried something like that with morgana in feb 14th episode my valentine ghoul (+that brief scene with gos from 2016 comics run where he believes she must be bad deep down inside out of comparsion to nega!gosalyn). negaduck also travels from a whole other world just to fuck around here for fun (there was this bronze age flash issue called flashback where thawne gets lost in the timestream because barry pushed the wrong buttons in his time capsule which is almost exact negaduck's fate in life, the negaverse and everything) and one of another few differences related is that negaduck is shown to be a dictator of his universe's St. Canard who is bored to live somewhere he already has all the power so he travels to another universe to cause problems on purpose.

second. dc's new52. eobard is rewritten again, now he and zoom are kind of one character. but guess what else is new in this version that never happend neither in zoom or professor zoom's lives? thawne is a fucking dictator in his own time. and people tried to fight his rule in flash's name just like friendly four needed darkwing as inspiration to finally fight back for their world.

he gets his own team, acolytes of zoom (i wish i could call them local fearsome 4 but there are 5 of them, making it more of a sinister 6 if you count thawne) which he trains for centuries to fight the flash and betrays later by trying to steal their powers just like negaduck stole f4's in jail bird to become mega-negaduck and if all that wasnt enough, without the mask he straight up looks like negaduck humanization. look at him. this mf is only missing a hat and a cape.

also these sudden black parts in his new speedster suit design? either it is some absolute fucking bonkers of a coincidence or someone on the flash writing team really went 'hey guys you know what would be real funny? lets base new thawne off negaduck. like he was originally based off thawne. i swear no one will notice' and everyone went with that. (i could also mention he has the same dumb motivation for being evil (having shitty childhood/being deep down sad about mistreatment and loneliness) as 2011 dwd comics run negaduck but imo that's too far of a stretch to actually be included)

third. yall know the deal of the first season of cw's the flash? yeah, what if i told you the whole thawne messes with the particle accelerator and causes barry to gain superspeed thing already fucking happend in darkwing duck, episode going nowhere fast?

(the way i lost my mind over this back in the day when i decided to watch dwd just because negaduck reminded me of thawne(i didnt even know he was a direct rip-off, i just went 'oh wait dt universe has this evil fuck that wears the same color scheme as reverse-flash? girl i AM checking the whole thing out just to see if he's anything like thawne'.) and first watched the episode... priceless, still haunts me to this very day. how the hell was that written in 1991. did cw writers just take the idea from dwd too. honestly i cant be sure about anything anymore).

and remember in the duck knight returns (2011 comics run arc) flashbacks there was a super funny thing with negaduck not knowing dw's secret identity and being so proud he cracked the case? remember cw!og!thawne looking for flash's time period and not knowing his identity in 2nd season cameo episode? what the hell was even up with that!!! like guys. guys one of you is the most devoted flash fan from the future and there is NO way none of that kind of information was left a CENTURY after (i mean come on dude couldntve you just asked gideon. she literally had that 2024 newspaper about vanishing and thats at the very least not mentioning she was created by barry) and another is straight up the same fucking person as the hero with the same fucking relatives and enemies. idk take a wild guess??? ((i really wonder if anybody on the wirting team of 2011 dwd run saw not just life, the negaverse and everything but any episode featuring negaduck at all. not only do they ignore the existence of nega!gos in the 'oh he mean bc alone :(' approach, they ignore the very definition of negaduck's character which is literally evil drake mallard. i mean sure hes dumb and may miss obvious clues because of being the same dw just evil but come on, such a comedic situation and never addressed by drake whos literally been in the negaverse and knows they are the same person or by anyone else he coluldve told that? oh well unless drake is also dumb af and thought there never was any drake mallard in the negaverse in the first place and that negaduck is some other guy. which is a real probability i suppose))

also. negaduck's death by being split on billions of evil particles in crisis on infinite darkwings and thawne, being 'exorcised' from nash's body in a form of a negative speed force stream with sparks in 6x15 of cw's the flash.

fourth! yall did watch ducktales 2017 reboot, right? specifically the duck knight returns episode? they introduce a whole new version of negaduck there! and guess what. jim starling, an old darkwing duck (in-universe 90s tv series) actor obsessed with his role, goes fucking nuts because there is a new darkwing duck actor in a new movie and he didnt even know. because he feels forgotten. because no one remembers neither him nor original series (objectievely not true bc obviously launchpad and drake but to jim they just dont count bc reasons. he seems to count only children but calls lp his fan when anthagonizes drake for taking even that from him in the end). because he was replaced and no one even bothered to tell him. he causes a fire on the set, almost kills drake but does have a change of heart at the end after launchpad's speech about what darkwing duck stands for and seemingly sacrifices himself to save drake and lp from the explosion. then they have the worst idea they could have in relation to jim's character ever: for drake to be a real life darkwing duck to honor jim's sacrifice. so naturally he hears that from the sewers or wherever he was hiding to see their reactions(look i am. 100% sure that this is what happened bc that makes so much more sense than jim getting brain damage or whatever from that explosion and waking up to choose violence again for no other reason). he gets hit with the being replacable and forgotten thing once again and renders back to negaduck tendencies, for all we know for good this time as his darkwing suit changes to the yellow-red one. yk who else went on a rampage because he felt forgotten and replaced? you guessed it! the return of barry allen, a 90s classic where thawne goes to 21st century for the first time, thinks he's barry (original-ish flash) because dissociation from trauma of seeing himself being killed by his hero and acts exactly like starling, having the same issues as motivation aka him/barry being forgotten and replaced by wally. he implies wally taking on the flash mantle is most disrespectful to barry. he rants about how he's the only flash and threatens to destroy not only the flash family but the whole central city for forgetting that. he and wally have a conflict of legacy similar to jim and drake's conflict in dt17. he is The starling blueprint only a lot more mentally ill. also we've heard something like the duck knight returns in running scared (this one is less reminiscent of jim but still features some things that werent in the return of barry allen). it's a rebirth arc that introduces another new origin of reverse-flash. now, he's been hyperfixated on barry allen his whole life (on a whole new level i mean) and there was the first meeting in 25th century where they Connected like thawne always believed they would. that day ended up in a fight and thawne's imprisonment because he set up casualties to get attention and praise for being the flash of 25th century but unlike all other versions this thawne has a change of heart after the fight, too. he promises to 'fix everything' including himself, he even goes to therapy afterwards. then he goes to the 21st century to tell barry how much he accomplished since they last met and then sees barry saying to wally one meaningful phrase he said to thawne that perfect day. like it wasnt something special only barry and eobard shared. like the day they met never happened. like he forgot thawne ever existed. like he was replaced as barry's speedster partner/friend/whatever he thought they were after that day by wally. and that shatters thawne so much he runs back to 25th and just decides to become the reverse-flash and make barry suffer until he gives him attention and recognition he deserved. frank angones, i am inside your walls. you CANT deny you based your versions of dw and nd off flash comics and thawne particularly. and more, you legit made reverse!eobarry au and put it in dt in duck forms. i have been losing my mind about it for 3 years now. i am exposing you and there is nothing you can do to escape that.

fifth(ish). yeah, and btw about friendly four from life, the negaverse and everything. did you think they actually escaped being mirrored in the flash? ha. i present to you reverse-rogues from the 25th century aka the renegades, carefully created by zoom and thawne himself, thinking it would somehow be funny.

cant believe hunter once saw it on tv put 2 and 2 together and went 'eobard my dude we need to go full negaverse with the 25th century. we need a friendly four to your negaduck. i swear it'll be Hilarious'. god the only thing they lack at this point is nega!gosalyn (i mean. hunter actually did try something like that with inertia, saving him from the museum and trying to teach him how to torture flashfam into improving them but thad was more of a nega!honker and reverted hunter to crippled powerless state just because. love that kid)

and that's all i have so far, if anyone here also into both yellow-red mfs with no life feel free to comment or even add more because there sure is or at least will be more and no one has the power to stop it.

[captainsophiestark]

Magic Trick

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2022!

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: “You’re looking, but you’re not seeing.”

Summary: Pietro and Y/N have been dating for a while, and have often been put in charge of watching Wanda and Vision's kids. When they're left to spend some time watching Billy together, it might not be long before they're thinking about having kids of their own.

Word Count: 1,017

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I smiled to myself as I watched my boyfriend, Pietro Maximoff, hold up a coin in front of his nephew's face. Billy frowned in concentration, staring hard at the coin in his uncle's hand. Pietro had done this trick twice already, but since Billy was still a toddler, he hadn't quite caught on to Piet's secret.

"Are you watching?"

Billy nodded intently, clearly taking this deadly seriously.

"Good. Then in three... two... one..." Pietro moved the coin closer to Billy and then further away with each number. Finally, after one, he moved his hand again and suddenly the coin was gone!

Since I'd dated the speedster for a few years now, I knew he'd just used his super speed to toss the coin into his other hand without Billy seeing. But Billy didn't have super speed, and he'd only recently turned four, so he didn't know that.

"What! Uncle Piet, where'd it go?" cried Billy. Pietro just grinned.

"Haven't you learned by now?"

Quickly, Billy's hands flew to his ears. Pietro (again with help from his super speed) had pulled the coin from Billy's ears twice in a row now.

Pietro shot me a smile while Billy felt his ears, and I smiled back. I always loved spending time with Wanda's kids, especially when Pietro and I were working together to babysit. He was just so good with them, it never failed to make my heart melt.

"Uncle Piet, it's not there!" Billy finally declared. Pietro just grinned at him, and reached forward slowly. With a super speedy wrist flick, he passed the coin from his off hand back into the one reaching for Billy's ear. Like the last two times, Billy didn't notice. Pietro paused a moment for dramatic effect, then pulled his hand away and showed Billy the coin resting in the palm of his hand. Billy's mouth dropped open in awe.

"Not bad, eh kiddo?"

Billy stared at the coin for another minute, then his head snapped back up to look at Pietro.

"How do you do that?"

"Magic," Pietro answered with a shrug.

"Uncle Pietro, you don't have magic! Only Mommy has magic!"

"How can you know that for sure? Your mommy's my sister. Maybe I have magic like her and just never told you."

Billy paused like he was really considering Pietro's words. Then, after a few moments of careful thinking, he looked back at Pietro and shook his head confidently.

"No, you and Mommy would have told me. You're fast and she's magic, just like Tommy's fast and I'm magic!"

"Hmm..." Pietro put his hand on his chin and pretended to think carefully. He looked at me like he wanted help finding the answer, and I nodded my agreement with Billy. Piet and I both looked back to Billy, who seemed very pleased to have made such a good point. "I guess you're right. I'm not magic. So you must need to pay attention more carefully when I do the trick."

Billy's mouth dropped open in outrage. "I paid attention! I was looking the whole time!"

"Ah, that's your problem," said Pietro, leaning back casually on his hands. I smiled and settled in to watch him. "You're looking, but you're not seeing."

Billy frowned, clearly not satisfied by his uncle's answer, so Piet sat forward again and held out the coin to show Billy.

"When I wave the coin in front of your face with my hand, I'm trying to get you to look at my hand, and only my hand. What you need to do is see what I'm trying to distract you from."

With that, Pietro went through the motions of his trick again. Billy watched intently, and when it came time for Pietro to toss the coin to his off-hand, this time he didn't use his super speed.

Billy's eyes went wide. "Were you really doing that every time?"

"I was, with a little more flare." With that, Pietro tossed the coin from one hand to the other again, this time using super speed. Billy's eyes went wide, and then he laughed.

"Uncle Pietro, that's cheating!"

"How is that cheating?" asked Pietro, playing mock offended. He put his hands on his chest like he'd been wounded, then turned to me. "My love, was I cheating?"

I shrugged. "You said you were doing a magic trick, and sneakily using powers definitely counts as a trick. Sorry Billy, my verdict is no cheating."

Billy threw up his hands like he couldn't believe us, and Pietro and I shared a laugh. I could've spent hours doing nothing and everything with these two boys, but unfortunately, we were supposed to get Billy back to Wanda in time for dinner. With a sigh, I stood and went over to Billy, holding my hands out in a peace offering.

"Come on, after all that magic I think it's time for us to go get some ice cream and get you back to your mom," I said. Billy instantly perked up, smiling at me excitedly as he took my hand.

"Yay! Let's go!"

He hopped off the chair he'd been sitting in and used his other free hand to grab Pietro's, pulling us along as he walked in the middle of us. As we headed out the door, I shared a soft smile with Pietro, my heart practically melting at the scene I got to be a part of.

As we walked Billy down the street to his favorite ice cream shop, swinging him between us as Pietro cracked jokes and Billy laughed like a maniac, I couldn't help imagining what it would be like for the two of us to have a kid of our own. And when I caught Pietro's eye as we handed Billy back off to Wanda and Vision a little later, I could tell he was thinking the exact same thing.

We were going to make great parents, whenever that day came.

[finalgirleddiemunson]

Letters to You (Eddie Munson x Reader)

summary: You’ve been trying to tell Eddie that you love him, but can never find the right words. Or, the story of you and Eddie, told through letters you’ve given each other. (wc 6.3k) 

warnings: swearing, kissing, miscommunication, they’re idiots in love, childhood friends-to-lovers, time skips between the past and the “present.”

a/n: this is my longest fic yet. I was originally going to write the whole fic in just a letter format, but that felt wrong for the story. My inbox is always open :)

masterlist

-----

You’ve been handing Eddie Munson your heart in the form of letters for as long as you can remember. 

From the very first time you interacted with the boy, you’ve been stitching little pieces of yourself into words, hoping he would finally see through the message on the page. That he would understand the one you’ve actually been telling him the whole time. 

That you loved him. Loved him in a different way than you did when you both were kids and you gave him that first note. 

You’ve been trying to tell him all summer. 

Well, you’ve been trying to tell him for years, but you’re determined that this summer will be different. You just haven’t found that perfect moment. The moment when the stars align, you have all the right words, and you finally aren’t terrified to tell him. Because- out of everyone on the Earth- Eddie Munson deserves a perfect moment. 

“Speedster,” Eddie’s voice breaks you from your musing. You know what you must look like, all curled in on yourself on the steps leading to his front door. “What are you doing out here? You know you can just come in.” Eddie’s dirty sneakers come into focus as he steps beside you. 

“I was just thinking,” You hum. 

Eddie plops down on the steps next to you. “Care to elaborate?” 

The sun is setting and the whole world is getting dipped in the last orange-tinted rays of warmth. Soon enough the lightning bugs will make an appearance, pinpricks of light against the twilight. You shake your head at his question. 

You’ve got a note in your pocket, written on notebook paper, like so many before that you’ve given to Eddie. But this note is different- it’s the one you’re not sure you’ll ever be brave enough to deliver. It burns through the denim of your pants, sears your skin. You watch the sunset so that you don’t have to look at Eddie. 

From your peripherals you catch him resting his chin in his hand. He sighs forlornly, “There she goes. She leaves me for a year of college and all the sudden she’s all philosophical. Thinking about the great mysteries of life. No time to explain them to poor old Eddie.” He puts the back of his hand to his forehead, collapsing his weight dramatically against you. 

“You’re crushing me!” You cough, an over exaggeration designed to earn his sympathy that’s ruined by your laughter. 

“It’s not like I’m her oldest friend in the world!” He tells the sky, a Shakespearean quality to his movements. “No, no, no. She has secrets from me now! After all we’ve been through…” He trails off. 

“Eddie-” Your voice is too shaky, it makes you stop, swallowing hard.

Eddie sits up properly, but doesn’t separate from you. Instead, he throws his arm around your shoulder, tucks you in close to his side. The smell of cigarette smoke, leather, and something sweet that’s just Eddie surrounds you. 

You throw your legs sideways across his lap, head finding the crook of his neck, while Eddie’s other arm wraps around your knees to keep you from tipping off the steps. 

“There we go,” Eddie’s voice is softer, just a rumble under your ear from where you’re melted into him. 

It’s simultaneously worse and better to be near him this way. You close your eyes and listen to his breathing.

You wish you were a better actress. After Eddie had been held back in school, and suddenly the two of you were on track to graduate at different times, you knew you would spend semesters away from him and Hawkins while you were at college. 

You still wrote, called, and talked to him nearly every day, but there was a secret part of you that thought maybe the distance would finally dispel your feelings. That the miles between you would act as a balm to the ache in your chest. 

As if you could ever be so lucky. 

The distance only aggravated your feelings. It felt like poking at an open wound, being separated from Eddie. You went around everyday, bleeding out, with your only treatment locked away in Hawkins, none the wiser about your predicament. Or so you hoped.

Eddie has always been too good at reading you, the symptom of a lifetime of friendship. The minute you arrived home for the summer, it was as though he could sense it coming off of you in waves. He hadn’t pieced it all together yet, but you had a gnawing, anxious feeling that it would only be a matter of time. You were an open book to him. A worn novel, dedicated and annotated just for Eddie. How could he not know?

“Do you remember when we became friends? When we were kids?” You hum an affirmative to his question. You can hear the smile in his voice when he continues, “You were always wearing those god-awful blue shoes.”

You dig your fingers into his side in retribution, “They were not god-awful! My mom bought me those shoes. I liked them.” Eddie squirms a little at your prodding but doesn’t let you go. 

“You left a letter on top of my backpack,” he muses. Even though you’re still wrapped up together, his voice sounds far away. Distant. 

“I liked the drawing you put at the bottom,” You tell Eddie. 

He leans back so he can look at your face, brows furrowing, “I did a drawing on that one?”

You nod, “Yeah, a smiley face. It had vampire fangs.”

Eddie chuckles softly and recognition lights up his features. “Oh yeah!” His nose scrunches up, “I remember now. I agonized for the longest time on whether you would think that was cool or weird.”

You can imagine little Eddie, black crayon in hand, tongue poking out in concentration as he drew as steadily as he could. 

“You were metal even then, Munson.”

Eddie pats the side of your knee, his grin now with a little more edge, “We all gotta start somewhere.”

—

The first note you gave Eddie was, in fact, left on top of his backpack. You were both in elementary school.  

School was too loud, too big for your liking. And while you had always noticed the young boy with the buzzcut and mischievous smile, you preferred to stay out of everyone's way. 

Eddie, obviously, did not prefer that. 

He was always up to something. Whether that be trying to sneak a lizard he found on the playground back into the school in his pocket, or drawing detailed images of dragons and wizards across what was supposed to be his homework, Eddie Munson was not born to melt into the shadows. 

But despite all the bravado he carried with him, even as a kid, you noticed the way he held himself when he thought no one was looking. It looked a lot like the way you felt, when the world was too loud, too big. You made note of the way he took his school lunch and sat at the far side of the cafeteria; or, the way he went off by himself at recess, content to explore on his own near the tree line.

And so after months of plucking up your courage, you finally decided that maybe Eddie could use a friend. And maybe you could use one too. 

You picked out your favorite colored pencil from a box that your parents bought you for school. A bright, baby blue that matched your favorite pair of shoes.  You ripped out a sheet of notebook paper and set to work.

Dear Eddie,

You were sitting aloon alon ? by yourself at lunch. Do you want to sit with me tomorrow?

Check yes or no

You signed your name at the bottom in proud, tall letters, wanting to make sure Eddie knew who it was from. You folded the paper half so that it looked more like a real letter, like the kind your mom pulled from the mailbox in the afternoons, and your hands only went a little shaky at the thought of giving it to Eddie. 

When recess ended that day and the teacher began ushering kids still brimming with energy back into the classroom, you slipped to the side as quietly as you could. You placed the note in Eddie’s cubby, right on top of his backpack where you knew he would see it at the end of the day. And then you scampered back into the crowd with the rest of your classmates, heart thumping loud in your ears. 

You hoped that Eddie liked the smiley face you drew on the bottom of the note.

—

At the end of the school day, you were surprised to see your note on top of your own backpack. You were almost certain that Eddie wouldn’t see it until the end of the day, and then he would have to put the note back into your cubby in the morning. But, you guessed you weren’t the only kid who could slip around unnoticed by the teacher. 

You clutched the note in one hand, knowing you had to hurry down the halls if you wanted to catch your bus home in time. Only once you were safely on the bus did you finally unfold the note. Lines creased the paper from how tightly you were holding it, but there in the meticulously drawn out boxes lied your answer. 

A little “x” scrawled in the yes box. 

And beside your blue smiley face, drawn in black crayon, a matching smiley face. His smiley face sported what looked like vampire fangs. You thought that was very clever. 

—

“My favorite drawing, though, was the one you sent to me at summer camp. You remember when I went away to camp? I thought I was going to die there,” you say suddenly, as the memories of the weeks without Eddie and living on letters alone come to the surface.  

“Summer camp,” Eddie groans. “Wayne started getting so annoyed with me. Everyday I’d stand at the end of the road when I knew the mail was supposed to show up.” Eddie’s voice drops down an octave, a gravelly impression of his Uncle Wayne, “‘Eddie! The mail will get here when it gets here. Standing around is just gonna make you sick.’”

“You never told me that.” Your gaze trails off the end of the road, where a younger Eddie must have run to, hoping the post would show up that day. 

“And grow your ego even more? Absolutely not.” 

Eddie swivels the two of you so he can lean back against one railing and you against the other, your legs meeting and crossing over one another in the middle. There’s not really enough room on the steps to sit like this, but you and Eddie make it work. Fold yourselves together until you’re not sure where you start and he ends. 

—

After the first note you and Eddie were nearly inseparable. 

And then in middle school you went away to summer camp. 

Your parents promised you it was going to be amazing fun, a trip you would remember for the rest of your life. But the weeks that led up to you leaving were spent glued to Eddie’s side and trying your best not to cry when you eventually had to go to your respective homes at night. 

You knew you wouldn’t be separated from Eddie for forever- it’s just that suddenly five weeks seemed like the longest amount of time in the universe. Five weeks of no Eddie. Five weeks of trying to make new friends. 

You could hardly stomach it. 

So the very first night at camp instead of going to claim a bunk like the rest of the kids, you marched up to the nearest counselor. There was a righteousness in your stance not befitting of your middle school stature.  

“How do I mail a letter around here?” You asked.

The counselor blinked down at you, perhaps a little shocked at your sudden appearance. Her name tag read “Sarah” in looping, bubbly handwriting. When she finally registered your question, she explained, “I can take it to the mail drop off in the office and I’ll get it sent for you.” 

You were already shaking your head before she was finished with her sentence. “If you don’t mind, I would really like to drop it off myself. It’s really, really important that this gets to my friend.” You brought the envelope close to your chest, unwilling to be parted with it until you knew it would reach Eddie. You had spent a long time making sure that his address was printed clearly, double and triple checking it against the address that he had written out for you to make sure it was perfect and wouldn’t get lost in the mail. 

Sarah smiled down at you, and you liked her smile. It wasn’t that tight-lipped, weird smile that some adults had when you wanted to do something a particular way. Her smile was patient and understanding. 

She nodded, “I think we can do that. You want to follow me and I’ll show you where it is?”

You fell into step behind her, splitting your attention between watching the wooded trail where you were walking and staring down at the envelope. You hoped you spelled the name of the camp correctly on the return address. What if Eddie couldn’t write you back because you’d made a silly mistake? What if Eddie forgot about you while you were away? Five weeks seemed like a horribly long time. What if-

“You must have a pretty special friend to already be sending them cards,” Sarah interrupted your spiraling. 

“Eddie is my best friend.  I want to make sure he can write back to me while I’m here.” Your voice quieted, “And I don’t want him to forget about me.”

Sarah’s hand ruffled your hair a little, and you found that you didn’t mind it. 

“I’m sure he won’t. You seem like a good friend. It would be awfully hard to forget someone like that.”

Sarah let you slide the envelope into the mail drop-off. The metallic clang on the letter flap closing shut finalized the moment and reassured you that the note would reach its intended destination. 

You glanced up at Sarah. “How long does it usually take to get letters here?”

She thought about it for a moment. “It’ll take a few days for your letter to arrive, and then a few days for him to send one back.” Your shoulders deflated a little at that. “But, how about this? The mail always gets sent right here to the front office. I’ll check every day for you, and as soon as I see a letter addressed to you, I’ll give it to you straight away myself. Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds okay.”

—

True to Sarah’s prediction, you didn’t receive a reply for just over a week. 

You’d already begun the mourning process of your friendship when Sarah found you at the arts and crafts table. 

“Hey, I got something you might be interested in,” she said as she approached, that kind and patient smile in place. She held up an envelope and you couldn’t contain your squeal of joy. 

She handed you the letter and before you could think through the movement, you were throwing your arms around her middle. “Thank you, Miss Sarah!”. 

She patted your shoulder with a laugh of her own, “You’re welcome, kiddo.”

You found a tree not too far from the other campers to read your letter. There, under the shade with the leaves creating a crisscrossed pattern of shadows down on the paper, you opened the envelope. 

Y/N,

I’m glad you didn’t forget about me. I wasn’t sure if you were making tons of new friends at your fancy camp. I hope you’re having fun even though I wish you were here. 

Nothing interesting has been happening here. I’ve been reading those books that Uncle Wayne bought me. The one that had the dragon like I told you about. When you’re back, I can give you the first one and you can tell me what you think of it. I know you would love it, there’s adventure and family and magic. 

You’ve always been better at writing than me. I wish I had superpowers and could travel into the future when you’re back. 

Eddie

P.S. look on the back.

You turn the sheet of paper around and cackle at what you see. An elaborate drawing of a dragon wearing sunglasses and a camping hat. 

You hold the sheet of paper close and start planning what you’re going to write back to Eddie.

—

“Grow my ego?” You scoff, shaking away the memories. “That’s rich coming from you. My mom still talks about when she grounded me and you just flew right over her rules.”

Eddie’s answering grin is smug and entirely too pleased with himself as he remembers.

“Aw, your mom could never stay mad at me. She likes me too much.” He bats his eyelashes, hands cupping his face, “I’m too sweet, Speedster.” 

—

A few months after you turn sixteen, you’re grounded for two weeks. 

You biked all the way to Eddie’s home before you remember that he had told you he was going away for the weekend with his uncle. 

Without any better ideas, you ripped a sheet of paper from your backpack and scribbled a quick message on it before shoving it in Eddie’s mailbox. 

Eddie, 

I got a speeding ticket and my parents are taking away phone privileges and my car. My sentence is two weeks. The next time I see you I might be irreparably different. I’ve heard doing jail time changes a person.

You initialed the bottom and biked home, knowing you wouldn’t see Eddie until Monday at school and by then he’d have hopefully found your note. 

—

It was not Monday at school when you next saw Eddie. Instead, it was Sunday night. 

Your mother knocked on your bedroom door, a folded sheet of notebook paper in hand. You sat up from your bed, head tilted in curiosity as she waved the paper. 

“Want to explain why this was in our mailbox?” She cocked a hip, one eyebrow raised. 

“I promised I didn’t call him!” You immediately defended yourself. Even from across the room, you recognized the familiar chicken scratch handwriting that printed your name across the outside of the folded paper. 

Your mother fought back a smile, brows set as she tried to look intimidating, “We should have said ‘no Eddie privileges.’” She pointed at you with the paper, “I don’t know what’s in this, but knowing Eddie, I want you home by nine. Sharp. I will not have you and Eddie conspiring against us. You’re still grounded and it’s still a school night.”

She then deposited the note at the foot of your bed, still shaking her head even as she exited your room. 

The door hadn’t even clicked shut before you unfolded the note.

Speedster,

Jailbreak. Meet me at the corner at 7. 

Eddie

You looked at the clock. 7:05. You were out the door before you could even finish tying your shoes. 

—

“Speedster! I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” Eddie greeted you through the opened window. His hair was longer now than the cropped look he kept when you were kids, and he spent an inordinate amount of time shaking it out of his eyes. 

You pulled open the door and the hinges creaked. While a little worse for wear, the van was his pride and joy, a combination of hours spent working odd jobs for extra cash and birthday money given to him by his Uncle to get it. 

You clambered into the passenger seat, “Mom says I have to be home by nine, but she likes you so we could probably stretch it a little past if we need to.”

Eddie grinned wildly, “For a minute, I thought maybe you wouldn’t get the note. Or your mom would see it first and put you under lock and key. I was prepared to scale your house if necessary.”

You snorted, “As if you could climb to my window.”

Eddie pushed your arm as he started up the car. The engine whined for a second before roaring to life, “I resent that.”

“I resent being called Speedster.”

“Well it’s that or Road Runner, so take your pick.” It was your turn to hit him. He was still laughing as he finally started driving. 

—

“I think you could probably come up with something better to call me than Speedster.” You knock him with the side of your foot. “Don’t you think it’s getting a little old by now?”

“What should I call you then?” Eddie leans forwards towards you, arms swinging over his knees. The sun is disappearing behind him, but the last rays of it create a hazy halo around his head. You dare to say he looks a little angelic. 

His eyes darken and his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Maybe I should try out sweetheart again.”

Your eyes widen a bit before you can school your expression, but you can’t stop the way your face heats at his words.

“You can’t call me ‘sweetheart,’” you choke out.

—

You were seventeen when you finally realized that maybe you love Eddie. 

Truly it was all Matthew Anderson’s fault because he leaned over the side of his desk one day in class to whisper a joke to you and you giggled just a little too loudly at it. 

Matthew was nice. Smart. He smelled like laundry detergent and the cologne coveted by every high school boy. And he smiled at you in a way that you didn’t necessarily mind. Sometimes, you had found, it was nice to just be smiled at. 

Your giggles caught the attention of the teacher who paused in his lecture to shoot you and Matthew a stern glare. 

As soon as he had turned back to the chalkboard, Matthew snickered again, which caused you to let out your own quiet giggle. 

A paper ball soared across the room, landing perfectly on your desk. Before uncrumpling the paper, you were already rolling your eyes, knowing who it was from. 

You turned in your seat and caught Eddie’s eye from the back of the classroom. The two of you had been separated weeks ago in the seating chart. Something about “both of you disrupting class.”

“Open it,” Eddie mouthed, as he mimed unraveling the paper. He had an annoyed set to his brows as he slumped back in his chair. 

You smoothed out the paper ball, slouching over your desk to shield the note from prying eyes. 

Stop flirting with Anderson.

Are we still on for tonight?

Tonight- Corroded Coffin was playing a gig at The Hideout. A new venue for them, but certainly not the first Corroded Coffin show you had gone to. 

You scrawled a response.

I’ve literally never missed a show, why would I start now?

You tossed the note a few rows back to Eddie. Your aim was much poorer, he ended up scooping the paper ball off the floor while the teacher’s back was turned. 

You watched him read it. His posture straightened some, and you knew Eddie well enough to know that the half-smirk he was now sporting meant he was pleased. You just weren’t sure why he was so smug all of the sudden. 

“Oh,” Matthew’s whisper caught your attention. He was watching the exchange between you and Eddie. “I didn’t realize you and Munson were a thing. Sorry.” He seemed genuinely sheepish, which confused you even more. 

“Me and Eddie?” Your face warmed even at the idea. “No, we’re just best friends.”

“Really?” Matthew didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Because if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man walking right now.”

You glanced back at Eddie, who buried his head into his notebook to pretend as though he was not staring daggers at Matthew. 

The blood raced in your ears. Why did that please you, the thought that Eddie noticed you talking with someone else? That he might care if you flirted? 

You leaned over to Matthew, “He just gets like that sometimes, it’s-”

“Does someone have something they’d like to share with the class?” The booming voice of your teacher at the front of the room cut you off. You ducked your head, arms crossing as your face burned in embarrassment. Hearing no further murmuring from the classroom, he swiftly returned to his lecture.

You slid down in your seat, determined to make it through the rest of the class unscathed. But that also meant you had the rest of the class to think about the way your heart was trying to escape your ribcage. You were left with a swirling feeling in the pit of your stomach as every molecule of your being seemed to scream Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.  

Please do not let me have a crush on my best friend, you sent your silent plea out to the universe. 

The universe must have laughed at you. 

—

As soon as class was over, Eddie swooped over to your side, cutting between you and Matthew. He threw an arm around your shoulder and you tried not to mull on it. It was just Eddie, that’s how he always acted with you. 

But then the arm around your shoulders was pulling you in even closer, and he was dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, sweetheart. I was thinking we could stop and get some dinner tonight before we go to The Hideout. Does that sound okay to you?”

Behind Eddie’s back, you caught Matthew's eye. 

“Sweetheart?” He mouthed at you, looking as though he were fighting back a grin. A grin that screamed I know something you don’t.

You couldn’t dwell on it without going insane, so instead you wrap your own arm around Eddie’s waist as you always did. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Before you could pick up your bag, Eddie reached out and slung it over his shoulder with his own backpack as he led the two of you out of the classroom.

“I’ve heard Anderson is a dickhead,” Eddie mumbled as he held open a door for you. 

“Don’t be jealous, Eddie,” You’re not sure why you said that. Maybe it was because of the word “sweetheart” still ringing in your ears. 

You expected Eddie to laugh. To jump to his own defense. To roll his eyes and make fun of you for ever thinking he could be jealous. 

Instead he just scrubbed a wayward strand of hair from his face and tugged you along behind him. 

You could have sworn you saw him blush. 

—

Eddie leans back on the railings, creating distance. “I’ll stick with Speedster, then. It’s more you.” You have to be imagining the disappointment that sneaks across Eddie’s features and leaks into his voice. 

A silence falls in the space between the two of you. 

The sun is completely set now. Soon enough the remnants of the summer heat will fade away into a cooler night, but for now the breeze is still warm.

You try to shake away the memories of school days, summer camps, aimless drives, and classroom crushes. 

Eddie reaches out, palm molding to your knee. The warmed metal of his rings press against your skin. “You’ve been acting weird since you came home.” There’s a hesitance in his voice that almost makes you feel guilty. “I won’t make you tell me what’s wrong, but you’ve gotta tell me if I’ve done something, okay? Because if I did something wrong I need to know so I can fix it.” His mouth presses into a firm line, and he looks so heartbroken, so worried, it launches you into action. 

You move his hand from your knee, knocking his legs to the side so that you can pull him close. You clamber up, erasing the air between you as you hug him. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, crushing you to his chest. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Eddie says. 

“I know I can. It’s just stupid.” You rub your cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt, a worn band t-shirt that he’s had for ages. “I’m being stupid.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my best friend that way.” He squeezes you tighter, a disappointed lilt to his voice. 

The note weighs a thousand pounds in your pocket. You’re considering walking into the lake and letting the weight of it pull you to the bottom. You hope the paper dissolves in the waves and erases any trace of your words. 

“I’m glad I’m back for the summer,” you tell his shoulder. “I missed you.”

“I guarantee I missed you more.”

“That’s not possible.”

“So is. Don’t argue with me.”

“But I’m so good at it.”

He lightly jostles you, prompting a smile from you. 

The paper in your pocket crinkles the tiniest bit, reminding you of its existence. 

You think about little you, who was brave enough to write that first note to Eddie. 

“Eddie, I’m going to tell you something. And maybe it would be good if you didn’t say anything until I was done,” You whisper. He tries to pull out of the hug, probably to look at your face and gauge your emotions, but you hold fast to him. If you look in his eyes you’ll lose whatever nerve you’ve managed to scrape together. 

His hand traces up and down your spine, fingers traversing a path against the vertebra. “Okay, I won’t interrupt.”

“Okay. Okay. I, uh, I wrote you a letter,” You start haltingly. “I have it with me. And… I’ve been trying to write you this letter for a really long time now. But everytime I wrote it, it wasn’t right, so I thought, ‘Oh well, I’ll try and write it later.’ Because I never had all the right words and all the perfect ways to phrase it and I just think that you deserve the best letter that I can give.” You’re working yourself into a state, your voice pitching up as your breathing shallows.

“I know I said I wouldn’t interrupt, but you’ve gotta breathe,” Eddie’s chest moves exaggeratedly underneath you as he takes a deep breath. He feels like a furnace against you. “Breathe. It’s just me, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart!” You explode, pushing off of him. You stand up and move down the stairs, plant your feet on the solid ground at the base. You decide it’s definitely not easier to be near him. To feel the hum of the word “sweetheart” under your ear as he holds you, breathing in air that smells like him. How are you supposed to concentrate in these conditions? “Sweetheart, again! You don’t get to call me sweetheart when it’s a joke to you, Eddie Munson.” 

You're righteous now, finding it easier to lean into a spark of anger than into your own vulnerability. Eddie’s eyes are wide, arms still stretched out in surprise from your sudden flee away from him. 

“I never said it was a joke. Did I sound like I was joking?” Eddie scrambles to his feet, hands pushing his hair from his face. 

“Well, you’re not being serious,” You cross your arms. There’s a suspicious tingling in the back of your eyes, one that you try to blink away. Your throat feels as though it’s closing up. You gesture wildly, your hands not cooperating with your brain. “I wish I could just- just- say it!” 

Eddie stumbles down the stairs, long legs tripping over themselves in his effort to get to you. He grabs your elbows from where they tuck into your sides as you try to shrug off his hands.

It’s easier to be upset than to be comforted by him. “Hey, no, don’t do that,” Eddie chides as you twist away, “Don’t shut me out. Talk to me.”

If you talk now you’ll end up crying, so you shake your head vehemently. “I don’t want to talk. I wish you just knew-” Your words are jumbling together. You press your lips together, a hard line to keep your mouth from running away from you. 

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to talk. I’ll talk, I love talking. I’m fucking awesome at talking.” 

You smile the tiniest bit against your own volition, and the action lights Eddie up. 

“I’ll talk about how much I missed you while you were gone,” He starts. He hasn’t let go of your elbows. “I’ll talk about…how Wayne would come home from work and find me passed out on the sofa so I could be near the phone in case you called. I’ll talk about… how I really want to read this letter that you wrote for me, the one that I’m sure is already perfect no matter what you say.”

Your heart is participating in a marathon. 

Eddie’s hands trace down from your elbows to your forearms. Your nerve endings light up everywhere he touches. “I’ll talk about how I’ve got a shoebox of every letter you’ve ever sent me in the bottom of my closet.” 

That makes you pause and Eddie can tell. This is something he’s never told you before. He breathes deep, taking your wrists in each hand and uncrossing your arms for you. They fall limply between the two of you, held in his grip. 

He’s killing you slowly. It’s an agonizing death because he’s so kind with your demise. “I’ll talk about how I’ve been trying to write you a letter too. Since I was…oh, I don’t know. Sixteen?”

No. 

Your chest heaves as you try to squash down that terrible and tumultuous thing called hope. 

He ducks down, catching your eyes. Your faces are so close, you're breathing in the same air. His thumbs rub circles against the insides of your wrists. 

“Pretty girl, stop upsetting yourself and just listen to me for a minute,” Eddie pleads, taking in your wide eyes and stuttered breaths. “Because I think we’re talking about the same thing. At least,” he lets go of one hand in favor of cupping your jaw. His gaze feels heavy, “I really fucking hope we’re talking about the same thing, and I’m not making an ass of myself.”

“You’ve never called me ‘pretty girl’ before. I like it,” you choke out and hate yourself for it. But, you can’t bring yourself to regret it when it makes him step in closer to you.

“No?” The beginnings of a grin are pulling at his mouth. You think maybe you catch a glimmer of hope swimming in his eyes too. “That’s a damn shame. I’ll have to use it more often.”

And then the hand at your jaw pulls you in and you can feel his lips just barely brush against yours when he whispers, “If you don’t want this, tell me now.”

You think you’re finally ready to be brave. 

So, you don’t say anything at all, just thread your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and close the space between you. 

His lips are chapped, and your noses bump against one another awkwardly for a moment in a way that steals an unexpected giggle from you. But then you turn your head and Eddie kisses you deep and-

You burn.

He busies himself with learning the exact shape of your bottom lip. You curl a finger into his belt loop, bringing your bodies flush together. Everything is warm, warm, warm. The press of his fingertips against your face and his arm that’s finding a home around your waist and his tongue tracing the seam of your lips. You want to live in the heat of his exhales.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie sighs, pulling away only a fraction. You chase after him and he indulges you. He kisses you once, twice, three more times before his mouth presses to the corner of yours. Then to your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose, across both of your closed eyelids. A scattering of kisses that feel like pinpoints of flames. 

“This is all wrong,” You say when you open your eyes. Eddie looks horrified, moves to pull away from you completely, but you don’t let him. “I was supposed to tell you how I felt! I have the letter with me and everything.” You fish the paper from your pocket. It doesn’t burn you now, doesn’t feel heavy in your hands. 

Eddie throws his head back, laughter ringing from him. His hands settle on your hips. “Jesus Christ, you scared me. I thought you were going to say I’d just ruined our friendship and that I needed to fuck off.”

“No, no, no,” You roll onto your tiptoes so you can kiss him again. “Definitely not that,” you mumble against his lips. You press the letter to his chest, your palm covering the carefully scrawled To Eddie on the outside. “I guess I don’t really need to give you this anymore, huh?”

His hand covers your own, holding it to his chest. The paper crinkles under your fingers, “Oh, you’re definitely not taking it from me. It’s mine, addressed to me. I’m saving it, ‘til we’re old and gray and shit.”

“You’re just going to put it in a shoebox, remember?” You tease. 

“And take it out to read everyday,” Eddie says amicably. 

“Everyday? That’s a bit excessive.” You kiss his jaw. “I’ll end up thinking you have a crush on me or something.”

Eddie hums, curls flying wildly as he shakes his head. “Crush isn’t a strong enough word. Guess we’ll have to call it ‘or something.’”

You’re both still smiling when he kisses you again.