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[bluegiragi]

pull yourself together.

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[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Time passes in ways Eddie doesn’t fully understand, in the aftermath of Steve’s injury.

A few days are spent lounging around the hotel room with Steve drifting in and out of sleep, for the most part. Then they graduate to small day trips. Squeeze in some touristy shit; museums and landmarks not too far from the hotel, in case Steve gets a migraine or starts feeling nauseous. 

Day 6 features a follow-up at the hospital, where Steve is told the bandage is no longer necessary to cover the worst of the injury, surgery won’t be necessary, and he’s clear to fly home or wherever else he wants to go. Which means Eddie is also free to leave LA, but he’s already stuck it out this long, so he decides to continue to follow Steve’s lead and spend another day.

He gets a call from Steve before he leaves his hotel room on Day 7, informing him that Max is leading a trip to the beach before they leave California again. Steve insists it’s the least he can do since Lucas flew out to spend the last few days with her, so she could stick around until Steve was clear to travel again.

And that’s how Eddie finds himself wearing lavender board shorts from the surf shop that looked the least like a tourist trap, dousing himself with an entire bottle of the highest SPF he can find before stepping out of the store. His black ripped jeans and the Judas Priest shirt he’d worn, not anticipating a trip to the beach, are folded into the bottom of a large tote Robin is carrying with ease, as she picks out towels for everyone to lounge on. She catches sight of him and raises an eyebrow, but he holds his hand up to stop any commentary.

“Black is just going to make me burn even more than I’m already going to burn, and the blue pair I liked were the wrong size, so lavender it is.” He defends, but she just shrugs at him, keeps smiling and walks over to pay for the towels and her bathing suit.

Behind Eddie, Lucas clears his throat. He spins to find Steve, blushing and glaring at Lucas, who’s grinning. 

“What? Don’t tell me I need to defend the trunks to you guys, too. I thought you’d be on my side.” He whines.

“Oh, I don’t think Steve has any issue with your shorts. Or lack of a top.” Lucas teases, then laughs as Steve swings a soft punch into his shoulder.

“I just…” Steve trails off, turning his attention back to Eddie and Eddie can see the heat rise from Steve’s cheeks up to the tips of his ears, coloring him a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t realize how many tattoos you actually have, I guess.” He eventually settles on, before immediately occupying himself with finding sunscreen.

Eddie lets it slide, and they all pay for what they need, before crossing the street and trekking toward the water. Max is the first to toss her shorts and sandals into a pile, running toward the ocean and diving into the first wave she encounters. Lucas is just a step behind her, and he’s quick to catch her waist and throw the two of them back into the water just as she’s resurfacing.

Robin shoves a rented umbrella into the sand and Eddie helps expand it, as Steve lays out his towel so his face is covered by the umbrella’s shade, but his torso down is exposed to the sun. Eddie, on the other hand, huddles up so most of his body is concealed by the umbrella.

“Oh shit, dude, I didn’t even think to ask. Are you worried about getting seen out here or something?” Steve asks, and Eddie frowns. It takes a moment before he realizes it probably seems like he’s hiding from any potential paparazzi.

“I get bothered so little by media that I hadn’t even thought about that if I’m being honest.” Eddie shakes his head but smiles at how thoughtful Steve is. “I’m just a little too pasty to trust the sun on a cloudy day, so direct exposure like this always makes me nervous. But I like laying in the sand and I’m happy you wanted me to tag along. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he assures Steve, who smiles at him until Robin mocks a gagging noise and makes them both blush and look away from one another.

The salt air and crescendo of waves and bellowing laughter kick up a surprising amount of inspiration for Eddie, and he fishes his phone out of Robin’s bag, typing away while she and Steve sunbathe. 

He’s so caught up in the piece he’s working out that he doesn’t realize anyone has spoken to him until Steve’s pressing a hand to his knee, looking a little concerned. 

“What? Sorry, I got an idea and I had to get it out before I forgot about it.” He mumbles, typing out his final thoughts before giving Steve his full attention.

“We’re going to return the umbrella and grab food before heading back to the hotel to pack up, if you’re hungry?” Steve asks, smiling at Eddie. He looks back at his phone to realize their hour with the rented umbrella is nearly up, so he nods and helps clean up the space they’d taken over, before they find a beachfront restaurant that doesn’t mind that none of the guys are wearing shirts, or that Max’s hair is still dripping wet, leaving a trail behind her as they move to their seats.

Once they’ve eaten, they go back to the hotel. Eddie asks if he can shower to get the sand out of his hair before he changes back into the clothes he’d had on pre-trip to the beach. When he re-enters the room, almost everything is packed up and Robin is on the balcony, talking on the phone.

“Nancy called,” Steve explains from the sofa, as Eddie flops beside him, towel-drying his hair gently. He hadn’t bothered to put his shirt on yet, not wanting his hair to make it all wet while it air dries. “Did they hurt?”

“Hm?” Eddie’s confused instantly, looking at Steve before realizing he’s eyeing the tattoos across his chest. “Some of ‘em more than others, yeah. But it’s a good kind of hurt.”  Eddie explains, and Steve frowns, but that’s okay because Eddie knows not everyone gets what he means whenever he explains the tattooing experience like that. “It’s… kinda like if you have itchy sunburn and you accidentally scratch it? It feels good to have scratched it, but it also hurts.” When Steve still looks confused, it’s Eddie’s turn to frown. He looks over Steve’s exposed arms and takes in the soft golden color they’ve turned and his eyes narrow. “Do not tell me you’re one of those genetic anomalies that doesn’t sunburn and always has a perfect tan, Stevie.”

Now Steve is grinning, throwing a shrug in Eddie’s direction. “Blame it on the 8 years of swim club during the summer off-season.” Steve laughs as an explanation, and Eddie instantly wants to know more about everything Steve has ever done in his life, but doesn’t know where to draw the line at how much is too much to ask to know, so he ultimately doesn’t ask for any further information. Which is fine, because Steve is leaning closer and taking hold of his left forearm, twisting it and tracing a finger along a snake that wraps around his skin. “Do they have meanings?”

“Some of them, yeah. Some of them I just got because I liked how they look.” Eddie admits, watching Steve’s fingers trace along the delicate lines of the snake. “That one’s got its mouth open like it’s hissing and about to bite.” Eddie considers what comes next, and decides to just lay it all out on the table. Steve had been open and honest with him, Eddie could return the favor. “Snakes are supposed to be a symbol of inner strength and perseverance, and they look sick. I got it after my first stint in rehab.”

Steve doesn’t falter, doesn’t even blink, and if Eddie didn’t know better, he would think Steve had already known about his trips to rehab before he’d said anything. Instead, he moves on to trace a blackout band around Eddie’s bicep. “Do any of them have stories you want to share? You don’t have to if it’s too personal.”

He’s stunned to silence for a moment, something that doesn’t often happen to Eddie. But he’s so used to everyone pressing to hear more about rehab and addiction and recovery that his brain physically needs a moment to catch up to Steve. “Oh. Uh. I mean, the one you’re touching doesn’t have a meaning or story, I just liked how it looks.” Eddie thinks for a moment, then, before he holds out the inside of his right forearm. “This one is a puppet master. Master of Puppets is my favorite Metallica song, and when I learned to play it is when I realized that music could actually be a career path for me.” They run through a few other tattoos; the Wyvern, the spider, the “you bow to no one” in elvish down his spine. While still working up the courage to tell Steve more, he switches his approach. “Do you have any tattoos? Or have you ever wanted any?”

“I’ve never thought about it in a serious way, because I’m not sure I’d like having something on me permanently like that.” Steve shrugs, flipping his arm over to point at his right wrist. “The few times I’ve thought about it, it’s been like. A robin, here. The Roman numerals for 94 somewhere. That kind of stuff.”

Eddie smiles softly, nods. “It’s adorable that you’d want one for Robin.” He teases and lets the moment breathe for a moment before he circles back to the tattoo of the snake. “I’m not ashamed of my story, or my history, but we hadn’t really talked about, you know. That aspect of things, yet. But, I mean. I made terrible choices when I was younger, and I got in over my head with drugs harder than I realized. And it’s happened more than once. And I’m not naive enough to think I’m magically cured because drugs haven’t raised an issue for me over the last few years. But I’ve been mostly sober for almost 4 years.”

“Mostly?” Steve asks, concern clear in how softly he speaks, and Eddie can’t help but grin and shrug a little.

“Still some weed sometimes. Still drink beer sometimes. Both in moderation, not anything out of control. It, uh, probably sounds weird but those weren’t substances I had issues with, so I don’t… I don’t really think about drinking or smoking as cheating, but I know some programs would call it that way.” He shrugs, and Steve nods, processing the information.

“Well, thanks for sharing that with me. I know it’s probably not easy to talk about, but. I learned a few new things about you today.” He offers with a little smile, and Eddie nods back. They slip back into silence, until Robin slips back into the room, looking between the two of them expectantly.

“Did you ask him?” She asks, and when Eddie turns his attention to Steve, he flushes.

“No, I uh…” He trails off, picking at a fingernail before looking up at Eddie, then back down at his hands. “We’re flying back to Chicago tomorrow, and we were wondering if you had your plans set for heading back to Nashville?”

“Oh, yeah. When you guys initially said you’d be leaving tomorrow, I booked a flight home for tomorrow afternoon.” He says and watches Steve’s lack of reaction. Wonders if he should have asked about joining them in Chicago until Steve gives an awkward smile. 

“Right, that makes sense.” He nods. “Well, we can all head to the airport together, at least?”

“Yeah, sure.” Eddie agrees, turning to look at Robin in the hopes of finding an explanation, but she turns away to take her turn in the shower, leaving Steve and Eddie together on the sofa.

~~~

Gareth picks Eddie up from the airport once he’s touched down in Nashville, and they head back to his house. Eddie throws himself into the comfort of his sofa, huddling up to a pillow with the intention of taking a nap, but his phone buzzes in his pocket. When he fishes it out, he smiles.

Stevie: Dustin has taken over the apartment, but we’re home. Hope you got home safe, too.

“Why are you smiling?” Gareth asks as Eddie is typing out his response.

“I’m not smiling,” Eddie responds instantly, schooling his expression and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh, so Steve texted you,” Gareth says, matter-of-factly, before scrolling on his own phone. “Want to order food? I’m hungry and you don’t have anything edible.”

“Why do you assume Steve texted me?” Eddie asks, frowning and sitting up straighter.

Gareth raises his eyebrow and glances over his phone at Eddie before he sighs. “Because you were making that face you’ve been making for the last month every time you text him, and you just got home from a week with him, so obviously he’s texting you again. Your turn to answer; food?”

Eddie stares at Gareth for a moment, watches as he turns his phone around to face Eddie, showing off the Uber Eats screen, before he scoffs and takes the phone to place his order. Before he hands it back to Gareth, though, he holds it just out of his reach. “What face am I making?”

“C’mon, Eddie, don’t play dumb.” Gareth laughs, but Eddie frowns deeper. Gareth frowns back, then. “You really haven’t put it together?”

“Put what together?” Eddie asks, finally handing Gareth his phone back. Gareth takes it, but doesn’t look away from Eddie until he answers.

“Dude, you’re in love with him.” He says, like it’s obvious, before going about placing his own order.

Eddie thinks for a moment. He knows he has feelings for Steve; finds him attractive and interesting and definitely wants to see if something is there. But to know that his friends can see through him puts him on edge, makes him defensive. “I’m not in love with him, we’re just friends.”

“Eddie,” Gareth laughs before he sees the serious look on Eddie’s face and he sighs. “Look, man. I’m not trying to start a fight or make you spiral or anything. I’m just saying. You leaned into a TikTok trend for him, voluntarily learned about the sport he plays, helped nurse him back to health after he got hurt and spent an extra week in LA to be with him longer. And now you’re texting him, again, like you did after we left Chicago. There’s something there, whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe it’s not love yet, but that’s where it’s heading.”

Silence settles over them, just the sound of Gareth’s short nails tapping against the screen of his phone, for a long moment. Eddie processes what he’s said, thinks it over, before flipping back to the text messages from Steve. He reads the words over and over before he decides on an answer.

Eddie: Glad you’re home safe. Miss you already.

He doesn’t have to wait long for a response, as Steve answers no more than two minutes later.

Steve: I miss you already, too, Eds.

Eddie considers responding but decides to tuck the phone back into his pocket instead. He drums his fingers against his knee, settling into a melody before he nudges Gareth’s leg with his foot. 

“Wanna help me set up the studio downstairs while we wait for the food?”

Gareth meets his look, raising an eyebrow. “Inspiration strikes over Steve Harrington?”

“I’ve got, like, four different ideas I started fleshing out in LA without instruments,” Eddie answers instead and ignores the smug look on Gareth’s face as they stand and make their way to the basement Eddie converted into a recording studio to get it ready while their food is delivered.

[batwynn]

A merman with a plan. (Featuring a Walk on Role with characters by Nik)

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[anicream]

[mars-wuz-herez]

“We did it Shadow! We saved everyone”

I turn to face the planet we just saved. It’s full of so much life. A memory plays in my head, where we would sit in front of a giant window and she would tell me about the beauty of earth. The wonders, the oceans, the life everything that made earth such a gorgeous planet. And after everything I saw, she wasn’t wrong. It truly was a beautiful planet.

If only she was here to see it.

My vision of the planet slowly blurs and I feel my eye lids getting heavy. So tired…

“Shadow!”

I feel arms quickly grab my waist.

“Shadow what’s wrong? Why is your super form fading?”

“My body…it can’t handle so much…”

My eyes are slowly closing. They are doing it before I even notice it. The grip around my waist tightens as I feel myself getting heavier and heavier.

“Hey hey hey stay with me. Everything is going to be okay. We’ll make it back please just hang on”

I force one eye open. I can see his super form is fading, his quills slowly turning back blue. He’s struggling.

We’re not going to make it.

He’s not going to make it

“Hedgehog…let go of me. You’re not going to make it carrying me”

“No! We’ll make it. I know we will just please hang on just for a little longer…”

I close my eyes and when I open them again. His quills are quickly fading back to his normal blue.

“Faker save yourself. Don’t die saving me. I’m not worth it and you know it”

“Don’t say that. Your life matters and if I have to die to save it then so be it. In the end I know it was worth it”

I smile at that. It’s nice to know that someone else cares about me. But I know what I must do.

“Sonic”

There are tears in those emerald eyes as he looks at me. I cup his cheek and wipe the tears going down his face. I pull him closer and our lips meet. The kiss is everything I imagined it to be and much more. I pull away.

“Forgive me…”

“What?”

I push myself off him and start falling. Fast. I hear him yelling, crying out my name. I’m sorry Sonic. But I won’t have anyone else die for me, not again. It’s selfish I know but I hope one day you’ll forgive me for doing this. My eyes shut and then it’s nothing but darkness……

“NO!”

I feel two arms wrap around me. I slightly open my eye to see Sonic. He’s hugging me and the last of his super form is fading away.

“I made a promise to you Shadow. You aren’t alone not this time. I’m staying with you until the very end”

I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. I close my eyes and all I can feel is the warmth of his hug. The darkness takes over and then everything goes black.

[weevmo]

I Have A KO-FI Now!

With some Hi-Res downloads and supporter-only sneaky behind- the-scenes art (Plus WIPS!) If possible and if you enjoy my content consider supporting my art efforts! Things are a bit rough right now and I'd love to keep making for-fun art.

ALSO Updates on Corduroy Stew Progress will be placed here as KMODO and I get it rolling!

[passivenovember]

Sharing again!

--

mirrorball

--

“You’re irate,” Robin says. 

And Steve can’t pretend that he knows the definition or that somewhere, past the churning noise of the party, and the wafting heat from the dancefloor, Steve has the slightest clue what to say other than, “Probably.”

Because in all the months he’s known her, if Robin says he’s irate then he probably is.

Steve wants to go home. He’s been over this scene for a while now, holding an empty red cup so no one asks him if he’s up for seconds and thirds. His eyes sting from the smoke. He’s never liked that about parties that don’t rage under his jurisdiction. 

If they were home right now, cutting the night away at Steve’s house, he’d tell them to take it outside. Not everyone’s a smoker. Not everyone wants to die early from nicotine poison, at least not from something as insignificant as second-hand smoke. 

But these are Tommy’s digs. And apparently, anything goes, here. People smoke and drink and fuck right out in the open, probably depositing colonies of lost children on the shag carpet underfoot, and Steve’s had enough. 

“This is really bothering you, huh?” Robin asks. 

“What are you talking about?”

On the other side of the room, past a string of holographic flowers cut from cellophane that dangles in Steve’s line of sight, Billy’s got a kaleidoscope of color dancing on his eyelashes and he’s standing really close to a guy with pretty hair.

That’s all Steve can clock about him.

His hair is nice. Long and brown and curly. 

And Steve’s been told a million times by his grandma that he’s got more to offer than a head of thick, Italian locks but with only a red cup and Robin’s fifty-cent words tethering him to this basement, Steve isn’t so sure. 

Robin knocks their shoulders together. “Billy,” She says. 

Steve can’t tear his eyes away from Billy’s eyelashes. “Where?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not stupid,” Steve snaps. “I just don’t see him.”

As if on cue, Billy steps closer to the guy. Gets right in the crook of his neck 'cause either. He knows Steve is watching or he’s trapped in his own little world.

Steve can’t figure out which is worse. Serving as the gasoline that fuels Billy’s night and earning a front-row seat to whatever happens next or being locked out. Forgotten. 

A sliver of perfect, golden skin peek-a-boos between the hem of Billy’s slashed Metallica tank top and a pair of leather pants Steve’s never seen before. Not in this basement. Not in his entire life.

He knows instantly he wants to see them trapped around Billy’s thighs. And on his bedroom floor. And melting, coughing up smoke until they’re memory when brownie-locks tugs Billy closer by his belt loop.

Steve crumples his red cup. “Let’s go,” He says. 

Again, Steve’s legs don’t move. 

“You should talk to him,” Robin says. “You should do something before–”

“Billy’s not going to fuck him,” Steve tells the shag carpet. He looks at Robin, and peers into her red-rimmed, pitying green eyes, because. “Right?”

She’s probably worried.

She’s probably tearing her hair down from its edgy updo in fear that their very own ray of Californian sunshine is going home with a stranger tonight. 

Robin’s lips disappear between her teeth, “I don’t know,” She says honestly. 

Robin cherry-picks her words. It’s such a contrast to the way Steve bulldozes his way through grand statements and sweeping apologies. It’s comforting. He hangs on her every expression to know he’s not crazy. He tracks the way she stares past those goddamn cellophane flowers until her eyes get big.

Robin glances over, cheeks red as speeding firetrucks even in the shitty light of this shitty fucking basement.

“What?” Steve demands, and he stares at the horizon to find, that. 

Billy and his Motley Crue knockoff have disappeared.

Steve sucks in a sharp, desperate breath. 

“Steve,” Robin says. 

He can’t feel his toes. He knew this would happen. He should’ve told Billy he loved him when he had the chance, and now.

Robin rubs his knee. 

“Maybe they just. Got swallowed by the wallpaper, or something.” And Steve sounds almost believable. He almost believes it himself, you know? Because how could his entire sex life have gone up in smoke in the last thirty-six hours? It doesn’t make a lick of sense. He was inside Billy Hargrove thirty-eight hours ago, and now--

The room might as well be empty.

“This is such bullshit,” Steve shakes his head. “He better wear a condom.”

Robin snorts, “You really think Billy’s gonna top?” Her fingers snake around Steve’s shoulder blades, rubbing at the knot of muscles in the side of his neck. “You can’t let it get to you, Harrington.”

Steve has to swallow the immediate desire to protect his shoddy, half-assed fortress of Cool Guy that has been falling apart, brick by brick, since the first time Billy sported hickeys on his neck in the shape of Steve’s mouth and told him that this meant nothing.

Steve wants to bury his face in his hands. 

He wants to pull his hair out by the root and scream and scream and never stop screaming until finally Billy admits that this is love.

That they’re in love with each other.

Whatever that looks like. Forgetting the condom, maybe.

Robin rocks their shoulders together. “Do you want another drink?”

Steve wants that, too. 

He hands his cup over, instead, “I’m going out for a smoke,” Steve mumbles, because even though Tommy’s parents have money and could replace it no-problem, he still pretends to respect the wallpaper he knows Mrs. Hagan chose special.

--

Billy only lets Eddie get his hands under his shirt because Steve’s watching. 

Only. Steve misses it, because he doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything. He’s too busy talking to Robin, and it’s fucked up that the cocktail of vodka and cheap dope has Billy jealous about that, too. 

Like it’s not enough that he's consumed by jealous hatred of Steve’s sweater for draping itself over him all day, but Billy’s gotta drag his favorite lesbian into this. 

Nothing is holy, anymore.

The angry, love-drunk, pissed-off part of himself whispers that Steve and Robin are going home with each other tonight, even though Billy knows that means hideous fleece pajamas and no grabby hands.

It doesn’t matter.

Eddie scrapes a nail over Billy’s nipple and Billy thinks he’s gotta get even. 

If Steve is going to sit on that fucking couch and uphold their agreement that this means nothing, Billy’s going to fuck this stranger.

Done deal.

So Steve looks away and Billy tugs Eddie’s hand to his waist to get his mind off the mole on Steve’s cheek. 

“Got a condom?” He slurs. He’s fucked up. Can’t even stand straight without the wall or this guy propping him up. 

Eddie detaches himself from Billy’s neck, and. “A condom?” He asks, not understanding.

Even in Tommy’s shitty basement, he’s got nice eyes. 

Big and brown and kind, like Steve’s, but. He’s not Steve. 

That could be good, right? Billy could work with that. “You don’t wanna fuck me?” He bitches. Hurt, maybe.

Eddie shakes his head, “No, I do it’s just,” He catches Billy when he stumbles and puts him back on the wall like Billy’s mom used to do with loose paintings when Neil pushed her into them. “Shit, darlin’, you’re drunk.”

It’s kind of hilarious. 

Billy snorts. Knows if Steve heard him he’d say Billy’s cute, and Billy wants to go home. Not to Cherry Lane, but to Steve. He wants to live there forever, and Max could come, too.

“I am drunk,” Billy admits. He leans forward, wetting his mouth and grinning when this poor country idiot can’t help but zero in on the shine. “I’m real easy when I’m sloshed.”

“I don’t know–”

“C’mon, Harrington says I open up nice when I’m blackout.”

Eddie blinks at him. Straightens his spine, all noble, so he can stare down his button-snout at Billy to demand, “He fucks you when you can’t stop him?”

Like he knows Steve.

Like he knows them like Billy’s his mom and he needs to be rescued.

It pisses him off. Gets his dick to lay flat, for once, and Billy’s fucking tired. “Oh, like you were about to?” Eddies cheeks flare. Billy waddles forward. Says, “I don’t even know you. Stop acting like you know shit about shit because you don’t.” Because. “I love him,” Billy adds, “I’m in love with him because he deserves it.”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “Oh yeah?”

“Maybe.”

“That him over there?” And Eddie jerks a thumb over his left shoulder. Steve’s watching them, cool as a fucking cucumber, and that does something to Billy. 

Makes him look at the situation from outside of it. 

Like, he just offered to fuck this guy, this random dude, and Steve doesn’t even care. And he’s not stupid. Likes to pretend he is, though, and that’s worse. He may be having a grand old time over there with Robs, lounging like a king on the same couch Tommy fucked Billy on last summer, but he knows.

He’s gotta know. 

Billy shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” He gasps. 

It’s not Eddie’s fault. 

He’s a nice guy. He’s been sweet all night, asking about music and movies and books and only touching when Billy begs him for it. 

Eddie’s baby browns get big. He says, “There’s nothing wrong with you, sugar, people act crazy when they’re in love.” He pushes the hair off Billy’s forehead, looking sweet and concerned, “Do you wanna go outside, maybe? Get some fresh air?”

Across the room, Steve isn’t even watching them, anymore. 

He’s lost interest.

Maybe he never had it in the first place. And it stings. 

Strangely, Billy doesn’t feel like drawing blood when Eddie leaks kindness. He offers his hand and Billy is too drunk to do anything other than take it.

--

Billy’s edges are sharp enough to cut. 

The truth, though, is that Steve likes it. Every drop of venom tastes like gin burning down his throat, hungry for more because it leads to Billy.

Truth is, Steve sees through it. He’s been close enough to that incendiary spirit on dark midnights to notice the fireflies that gather for warmth around the hearth of it all. And the reality that Billy would even let him get close enough for danger to  flash red against Steve’s skin in the first place--

Maybe that’s one of the things Steve likes most. Even if it hurts, sometimes, there will always be proof that Billy was there. And that for a moment, their edges had fit together like pieces of a puzzle. 

Maybe it’s just the beer talking, but Steve can’t let him go.

So Steve busts out of Tommy’s shitty basement, ready to tear springy brown curls from the scalp of that handsome, flirting stranger, when he steps into a puddle of rainwater, instead.

His skin is on fire. The shock of cold puts things into perspective, Steve’s chest opening like a summer tulip to the enormity of the universe.

There’s a calm spring mist, settling like diamonds across his skin. The Earth smells forgotten. Like for years and years, someone took the fabric of the city and rolled it up and stored it away, and now it’s free again. Resting, moth eaten and threadbare, against the backdrop of Steve’s shitty fucking night. Steve’s awful realization, that. 

He loves Billy. Earth-shattering.

And Billy’s going to fuck someone else. Apocalyptic. 

And even if Billy doesn’t make brownie-locks wear a condom, Steve will sit by his bedroom window all night just in case Billy decides that it means nothing, too. Just like them.

“Goddammit,” Steve hops out of the puddle a minute too late.

There’s water in his sock, squishing like fresh mud between his toes. He imagines being home. Warm and showered with a full belly, dozing in front of the fireplace. In Steve’s daydream, he’s naked from the waist down while Billy pushes and pulls his leg hair and calls him colonizer shit spawn for having a marble hearth in his living room. 

It doesn’t sting. Nothing hurts because in Steve’s fantasy, they belong to each other. Every impossible summit has been scaled and they’ve sidestepped waterlogged potholes to get to the truth. Their relationship means something. Everything.

Steve’s heart shudders, reality eclipsing the moon until everything's so bright he catches on fire. 

He stalks to the side-fence, peering into the watery darkness for a shock of American-made blue.

Billy’s car is nowhere to be found. 

And historic, champagne-pink revelations aside, Steve fishes around for his pack of smokes and refuses to admit that he’s out here to kill the guy who wants to get Billy’s mouth on him.

Steve would lose, probably. He’s fucked up. This probably isn’t healthy.

He wonders if Billy would plan his funeral. If he’d cry for him and swear off guys forever and visit Steve’s grave every morning with a hard on. 

Steve hopes so.

He’s embarrassed, to the very root of him. He needs a light.

So Steve bites the butt of his cigarette and pads around the yard, trying to find someone with a matchbox. The Earth is beautiful. Mrs. Hagan is an excellent gardener. All around, bushels of lilacs and marigolds are set to bloom. He studies the fullness of each blossom, eyes tracking the deep green of their clinging branches. 

It’s not even April yet and they’re thriving. That’s just the expert of Mrs. Hagan. She’s a smart girl, she knows how to nurture difficult saplings through hardships and winter months with careful hands, and--

Relationships are kind of like that, people have said.

Someone said that, once. Right?

Steve almost drops his cigarette. He yanks a handful of marigolds from the soil. They come up with their roots still attached.

That's gotta mean something. Bad poetry that feels like the ‘acknowledgements,’ page in one of those books his mom is always reading. Chicken Soup for the Soul. He imagines what Billy would say about this revelation after he’s chewed on it for a while.

Steve pets over the bleeding roots of his bouquet. He's never had gentle fingers. He tries to, with Billy and with everything else, but it always lands a little crooked. 

If Billy knew how hard Steve was trying, he’d probably call him an asshole. Chew on his thumbnail and ask how it is that Steve can read minds, all of a sudden, if Billy didn’t teach him. Because Billy taught him everything he knows, apparently. How to skateboard, how to bake pies from scratch, and how to fuck. 

Which flowers are his favorite.

--

Billy’s nails are sharp enough to pierce the skin. 

He’s never tried to do it on purpose, but he always manages, somehow. 

It’s raining. And Eddie’s hand is soft and warm and his fingertips are calloused just enough that when Billy nearly falls on his ass trying to side-step the tasteful rocks in Tommy’s side-yard, Eddie’s got traction to steady him.

“Nails are fucking sharp,” Eddie says. But he’s smiling.

There’s no shit, in that grin. He’s not aiming to eat Billy’s heart and soul or anything else. Nothing at all like Steve. Billy doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Not like I need to worry about keeping ‘em short,” Billy grins back, sighing in relief when Tommy’s parents had the good sense to invest in picnic furniture, “I’m not a top. I was, until Harrington--”

“I think if you say his name one more time he’ll appear,” Eddie teases, “Like Beetlejuice.”

Billy flops onto a sun lounger. “Think I’m gonna be sick,”

Overhead the stars vibrate, undulating until it feels like God is trying to hack and slash his way through the dark night sky to get at Hawkins. 

“Do you want me to run and grab--” Eddie pauses, staring around the yard with exaggerated care, “Harring--”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“Told ya,” Eddie grins, “Beetlejuice.” 

And maybe it’s just the vodka talking, but Billy’s stomach is stuffed with butterfly hearts when this dumb, sweet, beautiful boy smiles at him.

Eddie perches at the base of the lounger. His boots plant themselves on the ground, nice and respectful, so if someone were to see them they might think Eddie was aiming to rescue Billy from alcohol poisoning right before he calls him a slur and takes off, cackling into the night.

He won’t, though. Eddie’s a nice person and even if he wasn’t, Billy knows when a guy’s caught.

Kid’s been watching him all night. Even now, Eddie peers through a curtain of springy curls, baby browns flitting all over Billy’s face and catching on the things Steve likes best about him, probably. His cum-gutter lashes and dick sucking lips--

“You eyes are really blue,” Eddie squints and slides closer, all, “Like, creepy blue.”

It’s written all over his face. Hook and line, blind with hope for things Billy could only ever give to Steve. "Creepy?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, full of wonder.

“Well fuck off, then,” Billy snaps. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

“You’re not a baby, and I’m just sitting, alright?” Eddie's silver-lined fingers rise to pat around his vest. Billy squares his jaw when he pulls away with an unsheathed cigarette. “I’m smoking,” Eddie tells him, “Just sittin’ down until I can get the cherry sparked.”

“You’re a dumbass.”

“Probably.”

“It’s annoying,” Billy shakes his head, staring out at the trees that line the Hagan’s side-yard, a hop and a skip to the neighbor's place. “You’re a good guy. Why are you so good?”

“’M not good,” Eddie admits softly. “You’re just. You’re fucking gorgeous, alright? And if you don’t wanna go home with me, I gotta keep you safe until the Prince can get to you.”

Billy’s eyes snap, heated, to Eddie’s grinning face. “This isn’t a fairytale,” He says. Because it isn’t.

But Eddie looks so hopeful. 

His eyes melt like chocolate kisses. 

“No, but it could be,” Eddie scoots a little bit closer, hand falling to rest on Billy’s knee, fingers slipping along leather. “Can I ask you something, gorgeous?”

“I’m not gorgeous,” Billy snaps. When Eddie grins again, Billy’s face warms. Hot as the sun. “Spit it out, Munson.”

“Why are you in love with him?”

“I’m not in love--”

“Billy.”

He’s uncomfortable, like this. A bug under a microscope so he’s gotta show his stinger and scare kindness away.

But Eddie’s too dumb to notice.

A thousand words bubble and rise like champagne at the back of Billy’s throat, each one fizzing out before it can shuffle past his teeth. All of them will land like fists. Split skin and draw blood, so.

Billy shakes his head. Settles on, “He’s not what I expected.”

“Yeah, but why him? I could be different than what you expected. I mean--”  Eddie’s fingers dance along Billy’s thigh. Touching but not quite, at the same time. Making his skin dance. “I already am, right?”

Billy shivers. 

“Yeah,” He admits. It burns like alcohol on open wounds to say out loud.

But the thing is-- 

“Steve’s different than you. Than everyone. He’s sweeter and brighter than anyone I’ve ever met. Event though it took forever to get there. He’s got layers. He’s not what you’d expect, because. He’s got this big fucking house, right? And it’s full of shit. Name-brand poptarts and every vinyl you could imagine and all his blankets are soft enough that they’re probably lost clouds, or something. And even when I’m with him, like. Even after we fuck and Steve gets what he wants from me, he always asks if I’m hungry. And he doesn’t believe it when I say that I’m full. That I’ve gotta jet. He cooks really good pasta. He sings. He’s got a good voice, and he puts my name in the song, sometimes. He lets me eat in bed and he plays with my hair while I fall asleep, and. That’s the biggest thing for me, you know?”

Eddie’s fingers wrap, like warm summer vines, around his own.

“I don’t sleep good anywhere. I get cagey, ‘cause of my old man. I’m always on alert. There was a while, last summer, where I slept with my shoes on. ‘S why I’m such a bitch all the time, I’m fucking exhausted, but with Steve,” Billy’s shaking. He’s gonna vibrate out of his skin. “Steve is my home town. He’s home, on a Saturday morning. I’ve never felt safe with anyone else.”

Billy’s going to cry.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Eddie doesn’t notice. And if he does notice, Eddie refuses to care. His eyes are intent on Billy’s face when Billy admits--

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Eddie tells him, “It’s alright.”

“Vodka turns me into a chatty bitch. I’ve never told anybody that, before,”

Eddie’s thumb strokes soft over Billy’s palm. “The stuff about Steve, or--”

“Any of it,” Billy looks up, caught in waves of warm, sweet brown. He sniffs, suddenly more nervous than he’s ever been in his entire life. “If you fuckin' yap to anybody about this, Munson--”

Eddie’s smile is like the setting sun. “Put your teeth away, baby, I’ll take it to my grave.”

Billy opens his mouth to say thank you. To admit that this night, for all the good and bad and embarrassing, has made everything feel easier. 

Eddie seems to hear it. To feel it in his bones.

He kisses the back of Billy’s hand, lips sliding warm and soft along Billy’s thumb, to the pad of each finger. 

Billy’s heart hammers, unsteadily in his chest, when those lips press lewd, against his palm.

“Eddie,” Billy mumbles, sounding frail even to his own ears. “Eddie, I--”

--

A bomb goes off. 

Steve thinks the sky might as well be full of mushroom clouds because war’s waged when brownie-locks takes all of Steve’s knuckles across the bridge of his nose.

Steve’s not left handed.

The punch, it’s. It’s awkward and more force than anything else, and it hurts like hell. Something’s probably broken.

“Fuck,” Steve hisses, same time Billy’s new boyfriend says, “Shit,” and Billy puts both of his calloused, strong, stocky, perfect fists on Steve’s chest to shove him back.

Steve goes easy, because he deserves it. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this. 

But. He’s seeing red, and he’s gotta know. “Billy--”

Billy looks like he wants to kill him, and he could. Steve would let it happen. He thinks about sinking to his knees right here, dropping the marigolds, begging to get his speech out before the light goes out in the sky forever.

Steve’s still got the unlit cigarette in his mouth. A bouquet in his hands. He takes it out. Drops the flowers. Steps closer and says, “Billy, did he kiss you?”

Because he has to know.

Billy stares at the marigold petals in fear. They're coiled snakes. They're the end of the world. “You’re drunk,” Billy says, same time his new boyfriend bolts upright and fucking cackles. 

“Harrington, huh?” Brownie-locks spits on the ground. It’s red. Steve tries not to feel proud. “Really are Beetlejuice, man.”

Steve ignores the boyfriend. He stares at Billy and tells the truth, “I am drunk. So are you.”

Billy doesn’t look at all like Steve imagined, now that his anger’s planted itself on brownie-lock’s face. 

Billy’s shaking. 

He’s got tears clinging to his lashes, and Steve knows everything’s his fault and he wants to die for that, but all the guilt in the world doesn’t stop him from turning on Billy’s new boyfriend and taking a step forward when brownie-locks says, “I wanted to fuck him until you came along.”

At least someone answers Steve’s question.

He feels a little bit like throwing up and a lot like going for round two. Turning this guy’s face to hamburger meat, but. 

Billy gets between them.

And he’s vibrating.

And no matter what they’re dealing with or how much they’re refusing to talk about, Steve never wants to be the reason Billy can’t hold still.

Regardless, Steve scoffs. “You’re seriously protecting this guy? From me?” 

He’s furious.

He’s so hurt and bleeding inside and angry--

“Go home, Steve,” Billy mutters. He’s not shaking anymore. He stands his ground, looking every bit like an avenging angel, and.

Steve loves him. He’s proud of him, but. “You don’t want me.” The words sound wrong. Garbled and stretched out.

The boyfriend stand ramrod straight all of a sudden, like, “Wait, that’s it?” And he looks so confused.

Hurt, even.

And that pisses Steve off, you know. Gets him feeling brave.

“What do you mean ‘that’s it,’” Steve paces forward, stopping only because Billy tacks a soft, warm hand to the center of his chest. “Are you really asking to get your dick knocked off, freak?”

Billy’s boyfriend laughs, “God, you’re so pretty and so, so fucking stupid.”

Steve knows. About the second part. So he rolls his neck and says, “Why are you still here?” Because--

Billy gets in front of him. He looks so beautiful, with moonlight painting his curls more bronze than gold. And his lashes are clumped together. “Why?” Steve asks again, because he has to know.

And suddenly it’s like everyone runs out of words.

They stare at him. Billy’s boyfriend rocks a little on each foot, eventually peering at the ground like there’s no place he’d rather be than nestled under it. "What's the with the flowers?" He asks.

The longer they ignore him, the more Steve’s set on digging the guy a hole in the ground. Burying him and leaving the marigolds there as a memory.

Steve’s losing his mind.

He’s going crazy, he--

“Why is this guy here with you, Billy?” Steve demands.

Billy stares at him, pretty pink mouth open. His palm is so warm on Steve’s chest, it’s like a sun spot. 

“Why do you want him here and not me?” Steve grabs that hand. Holds onto it, says, “Do you love him?” 

Billy bares his teeth. “Does it matter?”

“Billy,” Steve whispers. “Are you--of course. Of course it matters, you. You have to know, that--”

And he’s grateful to Billy’s boyfriend for not laughing at the way his voice, fucking. 

Cracks.

Bleeds.

Steve takes a deep breath. Tries again. “You’ve gotta know, right?”

And.

Apparently not.

Billy blinks at the stars, blue like the ocean set to spill. He takes his time. Gets his feet under him. Eventually, Billy bares his fangs and stares right through Steve’s skull. 

“Thought I meant nothing to you, Harrington,” Billy says.

And Steve dies.

He might as well not even exist. He might as well be a window. 

“Thought you just wanted me because I’m a warm place to slide into a night,” Billy rumbles, and. 

Steve. He’s never had teeth pulled when he could feel it. He’s never snapped a bone in half. He’s never seen God, either, but. 

He imagines it would all feel the same when he finally has the courage to say--

“I was just following your lead,” Steve’s so embarrassed. And ashamed. He can’t believe he made Billy feel like that, like a figment. 

It hurts worse than any pain he could conjure for himself, so.

"I. I mean, I picked marigolds for you, baby." Steve toes the edge of the cliff. “I love you," He tries, and. 

Falling feels a lot like flying, apparently.

Billy’s boyfriend disappears. Steve considers it a sign that even though Billy won’t look at him, he hasn’t pulled his hand away, yet.

[kidney9-9]

Visions - Peter Parker

@theslayerofthevampires asked: Hey! You asked for requests so here I am:) I was wondering if you could do a Peter Parker x psychic reader one and this could take place around homecoming era where the reader has had the gift of premonitions ever since she was little. She attends school with Peter Parker and friends unaware that he's Spider-Man. One day when she helps Peter pick up something that he dropped and she has a premonition that involves the Peter being trapped under rubble the premonition is so violent that it cause her to faint

Hey there! I hope you enjoy this oneshot. It went kinda long and I cut it off at an odd moment because I wasn't sure how to continue it without it being super long! Thanks for sending this one in :)

Peter Parker x Reader [Fluff and Angst] Warnings: Violence, visions, mention of death, fainting

-

Starting a new school again made your head hurt like hell. You and your family had to move to this new area because of your dad’s job and thankfully, this was supposed to be the last time you guys would move. Hopefully, you’d enjoy this new school you were going to, as a sophomore. It was upsetting that you had to leave your friends once again, after living in your old home for about two years.

Your head was hurting even more than normal, since you started to have more and more premonitions after moving to such a big city. Your dad’s job usually took you all to somewhat remote places. The most remote place you had to live was in a small town in Alaska for about three years, when you were in elementary school.

These premonitions started the night your grandmother passed away. It was awful, the first ever premonition you had was the view of your grandmother’s funeral and you hadn’t known at the time that she had just passed away.

Thankfully, there had been a little box set aside for you from your grandmother that explained why you had this supposed “gift”. It passed onto every other generation of women born in your family, after the last person with the gift had died. You were “blessed” (you had believed yourself to be doomed) with the gift of seeing the future. You would get random visions every day, lasting only a few seconds at a time. Sometimes touching something or someone would trigger a more powerful vision, one where you’d feel like you were really there.

This big new city had been causing you to have visions every other hour of the day, it was terrible.

And this school was huge! You had applied to it when you heard you were moving and thankfully your application was accepted. Each classroom had about 30 people in them, and the courtyard was twice the size of the football field.

The start of the first day was a bore so far. You were in your fourth class, right before lunch, and you stared at the board as the teacher droned on and on about following their rules.

“All borrowed pencils will go back into this container here. I count all my pencils at the beginning and end of class, so please return them. You will need access to a laptop this year for my class, because we will be writing a lot of essays. If you need a laptop, you can always rent one in the library here on campus, using your student ID number. We will also be using a textbook and various online sources, so please look on my syllabus to see which textbook to pick up at the library sometime this week.” He continued and you took a few notes to remember the things he was talking about.

“This is so boring.” Someone whined behind you, and you mumbled back, “Right?” This spurred on a surprised laugh from the person behind you, so you turned around to see who it was.

It was a guy, with dark brown hair parted at his forehead, wearing a graphic t-shirt of an old cartoon character. “I’m Ned, it’s nice to meet you.” He whispered to you, eyes going back and forth from the teacher to you.

You nodded politely and smiled to him, telling him your name, “It’s nice to meet you too. Cool shirt.”

Ned visibly brightened up and you smiled even more back to him. You turned around when you heard your teacher clear his throat and continued the lecture. A few minutes went by and finally the teacher said to introduce yourself and talk with others around the classroom.

You turned your chair around to face Ned and smiled at him again. “Hey, so we have history together. Do you know anything about this class and teacher?” You awkwardly bring up, trying to start a conversation.

“Oh yeah! He’s kind of a jerk when he doesn’t have an energy drink on his desk. And his breath stinks really bad, so prepare yourself if you ever need to talk one on one with him. But I think he lets people choose their own partners in class.” Ned rambles, then looks at your notes, “Wow. You’re prepared! Are you like, good at school? You should join our team for the Academic Decathlon this year!”

You laughed slightly, “I mean, I just write down what seems important and remember the dates.”

“That’s perfect, we’re always looking for new people to join. Are you good with math and science as well?” Ned asked and you nodded.

“I am, I was actually in a math club in my last school.” You shrugged, and Ned’s eyes widened.

“If you join our team, I will literally do anything you want as a favor. Seriously, we only had like 3 girls last year, it’s always good to diversify our team! Please, join. You seem cool too, since you recognized who was on my shirt.” Ned begged, leaning closer to you on his desk.

You let out a surprised laugh, “I’ll think about it. Maybe if I meet more of the members, I’ll join?”

“Stay with me during lunch, I’ll introduce you to my friend Peter! He’s part of the club too. And Liz Allen’s part of the team too if you heard of her.” Ned mentioned.

You shook your head, “I don’t know anyone here. Just know the classmates that sat next to me during class.”

“Oh, okay! Yeah, I think you’ll get along with the rest of the team, they’re pretty nice.” Ned shrugged.

-

You sat next to Ned after grabbing some food. The cafeteria was somewhat busy, but it seemed like everyone was grouped up mostly, and getting ready for Homecoming. You took a bite out of your food as Ned spoke up to someone, as they sat next to him on the bench.

“Oh hey, this is Peter Parker, my friend I was talking about earlier.” He introduced you and Peter together. You smile and wave politely to him, finishing your bite.

“Hi Peter. It’s nice to meet you. You’re on the Academic Decathlon team here?” You started the conversation between the three of you and Ned launched into explaining to Peter how you two met and how he thought you’d do great on the team.

“Yeah! I think the teacher would welcome you on the team anytime during the year, so it doesn’t matter if you’re new. Plus, I think there’s a trip soon, for our competition, so that would be fun. I’m not sure I’ll be there for it, but you should totally go with Ned.” Peter told you and you nodded.

“Oh sweet. I think I’ll join you guys for a meeting then and I’ll see if I like it.” You responded and took a sip of water.

“Why do you keep cancelling things, Peter? It sucks, you’re like my best friend and you’re always going on about your internship. Tony Stark’s gotta let you off the leach sometimes.” Ned complained, noticing Peter’s words about possibly not going on the trip.

“Woah, Tony Stark?” You asked, impressed. Tony Stark didn’t hire high school interns, you had researched that a while ago when you lived somewhere in California. There was a Stark Industries building a few streets away from your old school and you wanted to intern there for a little but was told it wasn’t possible.

Peter must be super smart, you figured, to get an internship at that company.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy with that. And I always have to make sure I’m available for Tony Stark whenever. He could need me anytime, so I want to make sure I can help him out.” Peter replied, making Ned pout.

“That’s so annoying. Can’t you like tell Tony to chill out or something?” Ned groaned, rolling his eyes as Peter shook his head.

“I can’t just blow him off like that. And… besides I talk to his assistant, or something more than I talk to Tony since he’s really busy.” Peter huffed out.

“Still, that’s so cool you know him and have an internship. What do you guys do?” You asked, and Peter lit up, starting to talk about robotics and technology he was working on.

“Well, he’s got me reading and learning about MIT’s newest robot. I think he’s working on something with the Avengers too, so we only talk every so often about this stuff.” He brought up and you oohed in interest.

“The Avengers are cool, I heard something’s up with Captain America though. I don’t think we know all the details though, since the news keeps repeating what they’re saying about him.” You said, and Nod hummed in response to your words as he chewed on something.

“I used to think he was awesome until he did those videos for gym classes. Now he’s just some weirdo boomer.” Ned groaned.

Peter laughed, “He’s kind of strong regardless of that.”

-

A few weeks went by as you started to get used to living here. You became friends with Ned and Peter, along with MJ, who had started to tag along whenever you brought her into the conversation. You joined the Academic Decathlon team, and also started to become friends with a few of them there. You mostly hung out with Ned outside of class, going to his place and building some Lego sculptures as you two watched old timey shows on TV.

Peter would sometimes join along, always appearing to be sweaty for some reason. You and Ned would tease him about running errands for Tony Stark, but Peter would brush it off and say he was just busy a lot now. You met his aunt, May, who was such a sweetheart. She had squealed in joy when Peter said you were his friend, which made you all laugh.

“Peter typically only stuck with Ned all the time! I’m just so happy he’s growing up and getting more friends in his life.” May remarked afterwards.

You introduced May to your mom one day since they both had similar interests. May’s job with a charity organization had connected her with one of your relatives out of state, which led to her connecting more with your family and you. It felt like a small world when you found out about her connection!

You, Ned, and Peter (and sometimes MJ) started going to a deli near the school to finish up some homework and then hang out and decide if you guys would go to Ned’s place or Peter’s place, since both you and MJ lived a bit further away from the school.

You got pretty close with MJ, outside of the group when both Ned and Peter would hang out to do stuff together. MJ was someone who really recognized there was something different about you, when she caught onto the fact you’d randomly know if there would be something special about the day.

She had mentioned it in conversation once and then kept quiet about it after you got a little antsy about the fact she was onto your secret.

“Yeah, I see when you blink out of our conversations sometimes and come back looking a bit different. It’s like you went somewhere, didn’t you?” MJ said, to which you quickly laughed loudly and brought up another subject.

She would wink at you whenever you randomly say not to do something or go somewhere. It made your heart jump a little in concern, but it made you happy that she didn’t do anything else about it.

Sometimes, just you and Peter would be hanging out when Ned’s family needed his help with something, and you and Peter would quietly stay together in Ned’s room while he went and helped. It was never awkward, but it felt peaceful and you two got along great.

He talked about Star Wars a lot and even lent you one of his special edition versions of the second original movie. You would bring up a lot of random facts you learned about Star Wars, something you’ve started doing to see if Peter also knew that much about Star Wars, since you were a fan.

Sometimes he would bring up some inventions that he was thinking of. When you responded once to one of his ramblings about making something stretchy and sticky, with “Isn’t that what Spiderman uses?”, he turned red and apologized about being nerdy with science.

You didn’t think he needed to apologize for something that seemed to make him genuinely happy, and when you said that he laughed and said it was a bit of a habit. He seemed to talk more about stuff that made him happy after that and smiled more openly around you.

-

You had an appointment today to talk about moving your English class to an Advanced Placement English class with your counselor, which was lucky because Peter had an appointment with the same counselor today as well. You both walked together to the office, and you sat down outside the counselor’s office while Peter walked in first since he had his appointment before you.

You pulled out your phone to scroll through as you waited. After ten minutes or so, you glanced up at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

“Okay Peter, you seriously have to consider at least hanging onto a few extracurricular clubs if you want to be taken seriously for consideration of a scholarship to Ivy League schools. I know you have your internship with Stark Industries, but you should keep your options open.” The counselor spoke up loudly as the door opened.

You stood up when the door opened, smiling at Peter as he walked out the door. He looked a bit upset, but still smiled back, “Your turn. I’ll wait here for you.”

You nodded silently, wondering if he was alright. You’d speak to him after your appointment. The counselor welcomed you in by saying your name.

“Hi, it’s good to finally see you again after emailing you a few weeks ago. So, how are you settling in? Do you like it here?” She asked as you sat down, and the door closed again. You shifted in the chair as you set your bag down on the floor.

“It’s going well, I like it here. I’m actually friends with Peter.” You nodded back towards the door, and she smiled in understanding.

“Aw, I’m glad you guys get along. I see here you’re also in the Academic Decathlon as him. Are you enjoying that? I think there’s a trip in two weeks! Are you going?” She asked a few questions and you fiddled with your fingers as you answered.

“Oh yeah, I’m going there and yeah, it’s really fun. Everyone’s pretty sweet in the group.” You answered back.

“Well, I’m happy to hear you’re settling in nicely. So, you wanted to move classes to a higher placement? I thought I saw you had a little trouble with reading in your file, do you feel ready to move to a higher class?” She asked, and you almost flinched at the question, being reminded of your visions. They happened more often while you were reading, and during school, that caused a few problems.

“Oh, it’s getting better, I think I can handle it. I just have a little trouble with reading out loud sometimes, I have trouble focusing on the words.” You explained, avoiding outright telling her the reason why you had trouble with that.

“Okay, well we can always have accommodations be made for you if that ever becomes a problem in the classroom, but I think it’s good we met up, so we understand where you want to go now. I’ll place you in the advanced class and I’ll email you in about a week to check in on how it’s going. I’ll send you your new classroom number and your new teacher’s email address. You’ll start going to the new English class tomorrow, does that sound good?” She spoke and you nodded along to what she said.

“Yeah, thank you. That’s all good!” You responded happily.

“Well, I think that’s it for this meeting. Thank you for coming in, I’ll see you later. Let me know if you need anything or want anything, dear. It was nice to meet you.” She said as you started to get up.

“Okay, thank you again. Bye!” You started to leave but she quickly gasped, “Oh wait! I forgot, give this paper to Peter for me, please. Thank you again.”

You took the paper she was holding and walked out the door, smiling politely at her. You didn’t look down at the paper, fearing it was something private and only for Peter, so you gazed up and walked towards the chair Peter was sitting in.

You hold the paper out in front of you as Peter gets up from the chair. “Hey, did it go good?” He asked, as you hand him the paper.

“Yeah, I got into the class I wanted.” You nodded, then added on, “Oh yeah, she wanted to give this to you, she forgot to give it to you before you left.”

Peter blinks down at the paper and sighs, then drags his bag down his shoulder, onto his arm and opens up the zipper.

“Shoot. I got to show this to Aunt May.” He said as he grabbed a folder from his bag, He flimsily opened it and started to put the paper into the folder. Just then, the door opened loudly from the other side of the office, causing Peter to flinch and drop his folder and papers.

He groaned loudly and leaned down, and you leaned down with him, helping him pick his stuff up. “Oh, is this all the stuff to study from the team?” You asked, seeing a few papers about some subjects’ you guys have been studying for.

You pick up one of the papers and hand it over to him, his fingers sliding against yours as he accepted the paper and your eyes glazed over as a vision hit you when you were unprepared. You stayed frozen in the moment, trying to blink off the vision but none of that worked, especially since it hit you so strongly this time.

At first, all you saw was darkness and heard deep rumbling and cracks, then you refocused your eyesight, blinking at what appeared to be a person struggling underneath rubble. You gasped as you walked forward in the vision, noticing it was Peter, your friend. He was stuck, struggling, and heaving as a piece of huge concrete laid atop him.

“I gotta get out of this, I gotta…” Peter gasped, over and over again, trying to breathe in fresh air. Blood was leaking down his face, and he was slurring his words, and you knelled down near him, your heart pounding harder than ever before.

“Peter!” You cried out, trying to help him but you couldn’t, you were ghost like in your visions. Your vision turned black, as if staring at the ocean during a dark night, waves of worry hitting you.

Your body hit the floor before Peter could even react, absolutely surprising and worrying him as your body lay down. Your eyes were closed, and you were incredibly pale, looking sickly. Peter quickly dropped his things, calling out your name as he picked you up.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The counselor gasped loudly, as she stepped into the room.

Peter shrugged, feeling panicked, “I think she fainted! Can I take her to the nurse?” He looked down at you, softly putting his hand near your wrist to check your heartrate. He sighed in relief to see it was mostly normal, just a little lower than an average teen’s heartrate.

“Of course, please do.” The counselor responded and Peter picked you up completely, leaving his stuff on the floor for later.

He took you to the nurse’s office as fast as he could, putting you on one of the beds in the corner of the room. He explained what happened to the nurse as he started to freak out a little more, sitting down next to your bed.

“Should I do anything to help? Can I call her mom? I know her, she’s really good friends with my Aunt. Is she going to be, okay? Can I stay here with her during class? I don’t want to leave her alone, especially if she’s hurt.” Peter rambled, putting his hand near yours and holding onto it tightly. He didn’t want to let go, he was worried.

The nurse sighed, “Well, you can stay, go ahead, and call her mom for me. She should be fine. It sounds like she might have just had a little fainting spell. Maybe she has really low blood sugar, but we’ll know when she wakes up.”

Peter thanked the nurse and called your mom, explaining what happened. In the meantime, you slowly started to wake up, still reeling from what you saw.

“Peter!” You gasped as you started to fully wake up, and he squeezed your hand softly, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

You felt horrible and scared for him, your eyes searched up and down his face, trying to see if there was any blood there, but you knew it was going to happen in the future. You were terrified. “Are you okay?” You still had to ask, still scared by what you saw.

“Wait – what, of course I’m okay! Are you? You fainted! Do you need some water? I called your mom and she’s coming by to pick you up from school so you can stay at home. Are you feeling alright?” He rambled, face slowly red from not breathing in.

“Mm, good. You need to stay safe. I’m okay, just… tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You lied to him. His face contorted worriedly, as he squeezed your hand once more and you tried to smile at him.

“I promise I’m okay Peter.” You wanted to say it was him that would not be okay, that he needed to stay safe, but you couldn’t. You were glad your mom was coming to pick you up. She was one of the only people that understood your visions.

She didn’t have them, but having grown up with her mom having visions, she knew what they were, and understood that they were passed on through the family. In fact, she was probably going to ask you once you guys were in private if things were okay and if you guys needed to do anything.

There was only two other times your visions had helped prevent tragedies and emergencies.

The first time was when there was an earthquake in California when you and your family lived there, and the vision warned you that the large tree in your backyard would collapse against the house and severely injure you and your dad. You had the vision eight days before the earthquake, and you all made sure to be away from where the majority of the earthquake would hit.

The second was during your cousin’s first birthday party, where she had reached out and grabbed the lit candle off the cake and dropped it into a bush, where a large fire started and caused an explosion in your uncle’s house. You got that vision after touching the birthday invitation note, ten days before it happened.

They both terrified you and your family. And you were so very grateful that you guys managed to avoid it.

You hoped you’d be able to prevent this from happening. You tried to look for clues of your vision to see where it happened and when it would happen, but you hadn’t really gotten over the shock. You’d look over it when you could, but for now you couldn’t really recall the details.

You really didn’t want Peter to get hurt so badly like this. And since this was such a big city, it probably would hurt multiple people, instead of just Peter. You were terrified.

You blinked back into focus when Peter said your name, and you looked over at him. “You good? I’m really worried about you. You seem really sick.” He asked worriedly.

You shook your head, “It’s fine, I promise. Thank you, Peter. Really, thank you for helping me and bringing me here. You’re a good person.”

He blushed slightly as he gazed back at you, “Of course. I know we just met this year, but we’ve become really close, so I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. I care about you, you know?”

You felt your heart flutter slightly at his kind words, “I really care about you too. You’re special to me.” His eyes widened at that, and his hand unknowingly went slack in yours, and you quickly added on, “Uh, you and Ned and MJ… yeah. Really special.”

He quickly smiled softly to your words, but his eyes seemed a little duller than they did a moment ago. “Yeah, of course. I feel the same way about you. And them too, I guess.” He shrugged at the end silly, causing you to chuckle just a bit.

A knock at the door caused both you and Peter to look over, to see your mom walk in. You grinned at her as she came in, and silently nodded back to her when you saw the silent question in her eyes.

She signed you out of school for the day at the nurse’s desk, “Thank you for taking care of her.” She said to the nurse, but she snorted and pointed over to Peter.

“This boy here is the one that really cared for her. They’re so sweet, what a lovely couple.” The nurse said sweetly, and you coughed as Peter’s hand moved out of yours swiftly.

“We’re not a couple!” You yelped out at the same time Peter said, “Not together!”

Your mom and the nurse laughed at the two of you. “Oh, it’s alright, either way, you guys seem close. I’m glad my daughter has met someone so kind.” She said to Peter in a grateful tone.

Peter’s ears turned red at your mom’s words, and he nodded back, “Oh yeah, she’s kind too.”

“Hm, well anyway, say goodbye to Peter. I’m taking you home to rest. I can tell you need some rest.” Your mom said towards you, and you nodded and glanced over to Peter as you slowly got up from the bed. He helped you up, using his hand to support your back as you stood up.

“Thank you again. You’re really sweet. I’ll see you tomorrow maybe. I’m not sure if I’ll go to school tomorrow.” You spoke in a low volume to Peter, who smiled sweetly at you. You wanted to reach out and hug him, but you held off.

“Yeah, it’s no problem and text me after you get some rest! I’ll tell Ned and MJ you went home today.” He responded. You and your mom left the office after a few more moments, and Peter watched as you left.

He couldn’t help but worry about you, wondering why you fainted. He was scared to see you look so sick at that moment. It was also at that moment that he realized how much he really cared for you, much more than a friend would care. Either way, he was happy you went home to rest. He just hoped you’d feel better soon.

[violinist-rachel]

"...Zzz...."

[mynamesaplant]

Friendship Smells like Pizza and Laundry Detergent

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

Japanese is not my native language, so if I've made any errors please let me know. Also, I'm sorry for the phonetic spelling for Clay in advance.

Don't like to read on Tumblr? Read it here on AO3.

Enjoy!~

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Tonight was the night.

Elesa was coming over for a sleep over.

Drayden would have found it amusing that his nephews were running all around his house preparing for their friend’s arrival, but they were quite particular about how they wanted the house to look, and it was turning his house upside down. Already the linen cupboard and beds were ransacked for every sheet, blanket, comforter, and pillow that he owned. All around him, the boys meticulously constructed a pillow fort, and it took every ounce of willpower in his body to ask them not to make such a mess of his living room.

He sucked it up. They were excited their friend was coming over – their only friend.

Listening to Ingo’s meandering request to have their friend over for a sleep over, Drayden could tell this meant a lot to them. Even Emmet, who was hard pressed to pipe up his opinions to him was bobbing his head along in time with his brother’s speech and offered stilted yeps to emphasize his brother’s points, eyes glittering with such hope that it physically pained the Dragon master to say no.

“Verrrrry good!”

Emmet chirped, crawling out by the tv, which also had a sheet over it. They had tried to put a quilt over it and Drayden pointedly told them no. Although not the newest model by a long shot (he hadn’t been able to be as frivolous with his money since his nephews had been dumped come to live with him), he didn’t want to risk the television falling over and breaking, or worse injuring one of the kids. Emmet and Ingo were exceedingly careful with everything in the house, they treated everything like glass with a steady mantra of ‘safety first’ that he was sure would be seared into his brain for the remainder of his days.

With this one exception, the twins frequently kept to themselves and their own possessions, either roaming his property, Anville Town, or in the woods just outside town. This brief and altogether understandable lapse of judgement Drayden could overlook – just this once.

“Ingo, are the snacks secured?”

“Affirmative!”

Ingo moved into his periphery with an armload of bags, ducking beneath the patchwork fort to deposit them, and the other was bouncing on the balls of his feet, working out his excitement through movement. Drayden watched this all go down from his armchair that he had dragged out of the way for them to build, steely eyes glancing over the top of his drooping newspaper every so often. The boys surveyed their work, beaming in their own ways at the admittedly impressive arrangement.

“Please try not to spill anything on to the carpet.”

Their uncle rumbled and they both assured him that that would not happen. They had already planned for any accidents by retrieving a towel and handheld vacuum to clean up any messes that were inadvertently created.

“We shan’t.”

Ingo promised and Drayden grumbled something unintelligible behind the rag, staring at the same article he’d been reading about the delays for the new rail lines out of Nimbasa. Something about permits and a minor scandal with the head of transportation using Pokémon laborers that weren’t native to Unova.

Warm weight settled against his legs and Drayden lowered the paper to his lap, narrowly avoiding Emmet and Ingo as they stared up at him. He braces himself because he knows this look – although it was not presented in this double whammy form – and it usually came with an out of the ordinary request.

“Yes?”

“We would like to request three pizzas tonight because we are not sure if Elesa will like the toppings we like.”

Drayden had to bite his tongue because nobody liked the toppings the twins liked. Most children didn’t like white pizza with broccoli or Alolan style – but Emmet and Ingo did.

“You’re not going to eat three pizzas worth of pizza. It’s bad for you.” Not to mention all the junk food that they bought in preparation for the sleepover. They’re kids Drayden, he told himself, they’re excited and their eyes are literally bigger than their stomachs in this case.

Compromise.

“I’ll get you some personal pizzas. How does that sound?”

They looked positively ecstatic.

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The bedraggled looking man who escorted his young daughter to his door had a glassy look to his eyes, waving to his daughter as she offered Drayden a polite bow and foreign greeting to Drayden before tearing over to Emmet and Ingo. Her Blitzle tottered in after her cautiously with a red backpack draped over the Pokémon’s back. If Drayden had to guess from the flared nostrils and the darting eyes, the small equine creature could smell the Druddigon lurking in his room on the second floor and was nervous. His Druddigon was too well trained to attack, but smaller Pokémon tended to get nervous around most dragons.

“Thank you for having my daughter over.”

Drayden had almost forgotten the man was there, so small and quiet as to be completely unnoticeable. His voice was flat, almost toneless, which reminded Drayden of Emmet, who had a hard time conveying his emotion through his words unlike his brother. This man sounded exhausted.

“Sure…”

There was an uncomfortable pause as the man blinked at him, Drayden almost thought he wouldn’t supply his name – instead, just pass out in his doorway.

“Rin Kamitsure.”

“Drayden Gray.”

Rin’s torso was already bending forward, clearly a reflex he had developed from a lifetime of practice before he jerked to a stop. His arm lurched up, perfectly straight to the point of looking uncomfortable, holding out his hand and staring expectantly for Drayden to take it.

The handshake was cold, absolutely nothing friendly to the stiff fingers, and went on for far too long, neither of them seemed capable of breaking the shake first.

“さようならお父さん.”

Rin’s daughter’s voice sounded flinty, almost as though she was annoyed that he was still there. If her father noticed the chill to her voice, he didn’t acknowledge it, although Drayden guessed he most certainly did not from the slow way he let go of the Dragon master’s hand.

“Bye Ellie.”

He nodded to Drayden and trudged back up the walkway and down the street. When he turned around to face the children, Emmet and Ingo were thumbing through some books while the girl scribbled feverishly on a whiteboard. With her tongue stuck between her teeth, she was scribbling symbols that were unfamiliar to Drayden with careful strokes of the marker before her hands moved in a flurry before her. That he recognized as sign. The boys had been practicing together. This girl must have been the reason.

The signing was actually helping his nephews a lot, each had their own unique challenges with how they communicated with the world around them, and signing was helping them bring a different option for verbalizing their thoughts and feelings. Emmet in particular was fast to pick it up, his lack of inflection was made up for by his expressive features, which helped emphasis his signing. Ingo’s language was emotional from the word go, but his face was like stone, that’s where his gesticulations and other body language helped him articulate his sign better.

Drayden never could read either unless they told him how they felt. It also didn’t help that the brothers were so in sync with one another that they often left their uncle metaphorically scrambling to catch up to understand them.

“Oh! Elesa, you must meet our uncle.” Ingo insisted, ushering her over to him where she bowed again. Her face scrunched and she glanced toward his nephews, Emmet silently mouthing the words ‘hello sir’ while Ingo announced that this was their goof friend Elesa. “She moved here recently with her father from Sinnoh.”

“Hello… sir?”

She said slowly, watching Emmet mouth the words one more time, before looking up at Drayden. Most children found him intimidating between his stature and inscrutable expression, but this little girl looked him in the eye with nothing short of fierce determination. She refused to be intimidated. That made him smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

Ingo frantically flipped through the pages of the book still in his hand and squinted at the page – dear Reshiram, was Ingo going to need glasses soon? Yet another thing to add to the ever-growing list of things he didn’t sign up for but found himself doing. The text was inches from his nose,

“はじめまして.”

It must have been a translation into Kantonese and Elesa gingerly corrected his pronunciation. Drayden had prepared to get virtually no sleep tonight because the kids would be loud, but it appeared he had nothing to worry about.

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Their uncle said he would be in his study if they needed anything after ordering their pizzas for the kids and Bouffalant burger for himself. He handed Ingo some money to tip the driver and reiterated to be careful with any food and drinks on the carpet.

Ingo offered him a smile, something that made Drayden’s heart warm a little because that did not always sync up properly with his eyes to make the expression seem so genuine. He truly wished he felt that way more often, but that kernel of resentment he felt for Kaita and Lucielle – especially Kaita. His sister all but dumped her sons on him, their parents too elderly to look after them and Lucielle’s father rendered incapable of care due to dementia.

His burgeoning career nearly came to a screeching halt when Emmet and Ingo were unceremoniously dropped into his life, Drayden was lucky he had such good friends like Clay and Lenora who offered him endless support and advice.

------

“s’not their fault, ye can’t blame ‘em fer what their mas did.”

Clay had told him, taking a long pull on his cigar just as Drayden stamped out his half-smoked cigarette. A habit he had only recently picked up and was not trying too hard to quit. The clove scented smoke soothed his nerves like nothing else could these days.

“Be patient. Kids like them can have a hard time expressing themselves.”

Lenora advised when Drayden came to her with the twins’ charts, panicked because he wasn’t sure he would be able to sufficiently take care of children like Emmet and Ingo. Audiobook and podcast recommendations always arrived in his emails when he felt the weight of the situation suffocating him.

------

He was glad he listened to her because they had bloomed into such wonderful boys.

Although that bitterness was still rooted in his heart, he did his very best to never expose it to Emmet and Ingo, because they had done nothing to earn his ire. It shamed Drayden to no end that sometimes it did come out in the form of hands-off parenting, in his absence where his nephews needed a parent (one which he was never quite prepared to be).

Drayden did the unthinkable and lightly tousled Ingo’s hair, reminding him to get the door when the delivery driver came, and to give the driver their tip. When he removed his hands, Ingo’s eyes were round and shining, his mouth was slightly open as he looked up at his uncle. His nephew managed a nod, lifting his hands to pat his hair, and slowly made his way back to his brother and their friend.

About thirty minutes later their pizzas arrived and all three kids pelted toward the door, lurking just over Ingo’s shoulder like hungry Sharpedo in anticipation. A chorus of ‘thank yous’ sent the delivery driver on her way, grinning a little at the kids as the door closed. With the personal pizzas divvied up properly, the trio clambered into the fort and settled in for the preselected documentary.

Tynamo and Blitzle were under there, already snoozing as the kids ate and watched the screen transfixed with the visuals. Emmet and Ingo had selected a documentary about Unova, selecting Kantonese subtitles for Elesa so she didn’t have to rely on the audio. Although it wasn’t their preference – that was reserved for trains and professional battling – the boys chose this documentary to help acquaint Elesa to the unfamiliar region she found herself in. She didn’t really seem to have an interest in Unova at all, so they wanted to change that.

To them, Unova was the most beautiful place in the whole world, but admittedly, they hadn’t been to many places. Galar sounded amazing, but Emmet and Ingo had to acknowledge that they were biased because there were just so many trains there – so it had to be amazing, right?

They had come to love Unova through the pictures and trinkets that their mothers sent to them. Glass paperweights that contained stylized Frillish suspended in a permanent bubble from Humilau. Frayed ticket stubs from the sports arenas in Nimbasa. Luminous crystals that refracted a thousand tiny rainbows, and still contained a little bit of static hidden in their crystalline depths, from Chargestone Cavern. Pressed flowers and leaves that still smelled as fresh as the day they were picked from Pinwheel Forest. Vibrant, but uncomfortable t-shirts advertising the famous Casteliacone alongside the stand’s Vanilluxe mascot, Mochi.

But their most prized possession? Two slightly tarnished, golden subway tokens with a stamp of the front of Gear Station on one side and the NTA symbol on the other. The transit system operated on automated cards and scanners and digital tickets nowadays, but these? These things were ancient. Mom had found them and sent them back with burgundy lipstick smudged at the bottom by their names.

Found in an antique shop a few blocks from the station. A set soon to follow, my loves.

The train set had never come, so Emmet and Ingo learned to be satisfied with the tokens.

“エモンガ?”

Elesa jerked forward with her eyes wide while she gesticulated at the screen with a ferocity that made the Pokémon wake with a start. Blitzle nickered softly, stretching his neck to rest on Elesa’s knee and nuzzling her skirt until her hand came to stroke his flank absently. Tynamo flitted over to Emmet, tucking himself into the loose collar of his trainer’s sweater and buzzing Emmet with a faint electrical charge.

A pair of Emolga were skittering across the screen; chittering and squeaking while they darted through the trees of Lostlorn Forest without a care in the world at the humans filming them. The next shot cut to two males with their hackles raised and massive incisors displayed in their yawning maws, the smaller one was getting bullied out of the other male’s territory. Another shot took the documentary to a whole tree hollow full of feathery down, fur, leaves, and dry grass with small, glittering black Emolga eyes blinking back at the lens.

Elesa covered her mouth to stifle a little noise of adoration, unwittingly leaning forward with undisguised interest at the flying squirrels that plagued the whole of Unova. Emolga were few and far between in Anville Town compared to the rest of the region, they were more at home in the trees, which their hometown lacked to accommodate the rail yard and its acres of track.

“I… love…”

Elesa said the words slowly, feeling how the Galarian syllables felt in her mouth. It sounded like such a mouth full compared to 好きだ. The name of the Pokémon sat fresh in her mind as she watched them on the screen, so carefree and happy that it made her smile softly with a fondness she thought she only held for Pachirisu.

“エモンガ. Eh- what… is エモンガ?”

Emmet and Ingo exchanged looks, although they didn’t understand Kantonese, and they were at times hard pressed to understand other people’s thoughts and feelings, Elesa was telegraphing all they needed to know with how her blue eyes stared with longing at the screen.

“Emolga.”

Emmet said slowly and watched Elesa incline her head, acknowledging that she had heard him but not looking his way.

“Emolga…”

She repeated the word, drawing out each sound as she heard it from Emmet’s lips. They sat in silence for a moment, the documentary had moved on to Venipedes and their natural instinct to curl up when in danger.

“They’re delightful little scamps.”

Ingo finally said, putting down his slice of pizza on a neat square of paper towel and scratching his cheek, hesitating on even bringing it up when Emmet piped up.

“Mom has one. Her name is Daisy. She likes to groom mom’s Stoutland’s coat. Brutus likes that verrrrry much.”

Ingo pursed his lips, balling his hands up in his lap, waiting for the question that inevitably came up when anyone heard about their mothers. Uncle Drayden rarely spoke about them, only passing off the mail that one or both had sent to their sons. People were curious to say the least when Drayden suddenly had two boys in his home and when their guardian didn’t satisfy their curiosity, it meant Emmet and Ingo were often asked directly.

“Where are your mothers?”

Emmet would stare at the ground, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands, and Ingo would go unusually quiet, fumbling for words because he didn’t know what to say. Their mothers dropped them off here one day and they hadn’t seen them since, plenty of letters and trinkets, but never their mothers.

They didn’t know why. They tried to be good kids. They tried to be the best kids. They got good grades. They never caused trouble. They always did their chores and took care of the Pokémon.

It must not have been enough for them to stay.

Emmet shifted on the spot, tapping his nails against the plastic cup to fill the silence, and wordlessly murmuring something under his breath. Ingo knew it was the train schedules in and out of the rail yard. Emmet recited them when he said or did something that he didn’t realize was uncomfortable.

If Elesa noticed the weird pause, she didn’t mention anything, but she did say,

“I… want… one. Emolga.”

The moment of tension passed, and the twins felt like they could breathe again. They didn’t know that Elesa felt those same things about parents and had just as hard of a time putting those feelings into words. For now, they didn’t have to talk about it. They didn’t have to do anything, but sit back, eat pizza, and go to sleep late into the night in a castle of blankets that smelled like fresh laundry detergent.

“Have no fear! We will locate a nest and you can catch as many Emolga as you want.”

“Yep yep! A whole team!”

Elesa caught maybe every other word, but her mouth curled and her eyes crinkled at the excited murmurings of her two friends.

[anewcalamity]

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A New Calamity: Page 464 Chapter 16 Cover

I'm back! (Dec. 6 2023) It's been a VERY rough road since the end of Ch 15. I found out I have two new tumors in my brain. Soon I will have to do precision brain radiation on top of the chemo I've been receiving. I'm not sure what the side effects will be, probably memory loss, pain, shaky hands and confusion (if my experience with brain radiation in 2019 turns out to be similar). I'm just going to take it slow and try to make really good work. Thank you to all my readers and patrons. :) Donations are appreciated. Patreon / Ko-fi / Paypal

ANC Ghirahim @stylincheetah

Leonus @sparksplitter

Va Eheníhv @gerudoshikyapril  

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • Chapter 9 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 11 • Chapter 12 • Chapter 13 • Chapter 14 • Chapter 15 • Chapter 16

[chaosduckies]

Rising Tides (Chapter 1)

So basically this is just a piece for Mermay. A very late piece, but if you guys like it, I’ll continue it! Honestly, this is very fast paced, and I’m very sorry, but it is STRESSFUL out here.

Word Count: 2.8k

CW: Mentions of Death, A little bit of violence (just getting chased my a shark), that’s pretty much it I think!

1-Nico 

The ocean was a dangerous place. Even for someone who has lived here their entire life. 

Living in the ocean meant knowing how to survive on your own. It meant knowing just how desperate other creatures were to survive. I knew that. I knew just how much of a light snack I was. I knew that I was small. Incapable of being strong or even giving one glare at someone and making them swim away with their tail fins behind their backs. 

Such is the life of a very, very insignificant, mer like myself. 

The little reef I lived in was small, but quaint. My parents love it. I don’t live very far from them. Occasionally I would go over and have dinner with them. Even if I wasn’t hungry. They would ask how my day was, and I would say: “It was good.” we would catch up since the last time we ate, and then they’d ask me if I finally made any friends. I would tell them no. 

Today, really wasn’t a good day. 

My job for the community was to gather kelp. Weird, right? Only some mers eat kelp, like myself. I’m weird. But that’s besides the point! I gather some at least once a week and give it to another person who just delivers it somewhere I don’t even know. I feel like I should probably figure that out, but I’m pretty sure that didn’t really matter- 

Everyone had their own designated job to do for the community. We didn’t have any currency, but the people who lead us told us to do our part, and usually mers are very reluctant to listen so, no one complained. It’s not like I didn’t like my job. Every time I eat I think to myself “Maybe this is the same patch I picked myself-“ Stupid, right? But, everyone has their jobs so they can keep on peacefully living in this community. Though, sometimes it’s not all that great. 

Some mers don’t like each other. When a fight happens, they like solving it civilly so it doesn’t encourage anymore to happen. That’s not it for my case. A lot of people don’t like me. Not because I did something wrong to them. Nonono. I could never hurt a person. Even if I tried. It’s mainly because people outcast people with brightly colored tails. Like mine maybe? They say it’s a liability. That it’ll only get me killed if I’m ever on my own. They’re probably not wrong either. 

Despite my parents having a dark purple colored tail, mine was a bright purple. It’s not good at all for camouflage, it reflects some sunlight when I’m closer to the surface, and it’s just basically like a sign to other mers saying “Hey! I can very easily be killed from a large predator!” And no one wants to be with someone like that. As for the soulmate thing? Despite humans having to find their one true love, mers just have to make a few friends, and if the universe decides that you were meant to be with someone, then there would be a matching tattoo on your wrists after a single contact. Again, weird, right? 

——————

I was swimming off to my small, but humble house hidden inside a huge piece of coral. I don’t even know how I found this place, but I remember loving it because it had a perfect view of the sun above the ocean, and it was far away from most people except for the occasional kid who was just exploring. It was a nice place. I just carried up some sand here made it look nice and decorated with some shells I find while gathering kelp. Turns out you can make a decent home if you really try hard enough. 

There were two shells I had today, a nice light blue one that was probably just a piece of an old clam shell, and a mixture of an orange and yellow one that came from a hermit crab that abandoned its home. I was going to give these to my parents later since they also love seeing the bright colored shells, but they were too scared to travel far from the little village we live in. There are predators out there that would love to snack on a helpless mer, and no one was going out unless they knew they could live on their own or they were hunters getting fish for the others. My parents were none of the above. They preferred the village life. They practically new everyone here and they were both soulmates. And here I am the entire opposite. What a great son I am, right? 

I grabbed a little satchel from my home and started to slowly swim off to my parents. The sun was setting, the water above reflecting a bright orange hue. It was a nice evening. Hasn’t been like this in forever because of all the storms happening above. It’s a wonder how those fishing boats humans have stay afloat when all the waves are just trying to rock them over. Well, maybe it’s because they have some help from other mers or something like that. It wasn’t unheard of. 

The path to my parents’ humble abode was lined with clumped up seaweed and some colorful rocks. Their house was dimly lit, but I knew that they were still awake. My mom was probably making some kind of bag while dad was eating happily in his chair. I swam in. 

“Hey mom.” I mumbled. 

“Nico! Your plate is on the table!” She cheered back at me. She was always happy to see me. Even if I came at least two times a week to visit. I was old enough to take care of myself. Or… at least in the community we live in. 

I looked at the plate on the table, shook my head and swam into the main room where they were doing just as I had imagined. Mom was almost done making a very small bag that she would probably give to one of her friends. I looked through my own bag, grabbing the two small shells I found and placed them on one of the side tables near my dad. 

He inspected them before smiling to himself. I knew he liked them more than my mom did. He said he used to bring buckets back home to his parents and just have a collection to himself. I see why he did. It was fun to find some. Better than sitting around the house all day and not having anything to do. 

I stared at the matching tattoos on both of my parent's wrists, slightly rubbing my own. I knew I wouldn’t find someone who would actually like me. I can’t even picture myself with anyone else. It was the sad, but indisputable truth. And I’ve accepted that fact. 

——————

The next morning, I woke up with my dark hair in my face and streaks of light I shining through some cracks in the little coral cave I lived in. I forced myself up, lazily rubbing my eyes. What should I do today? The question practically begged for an answer. I could just go swim around, but that does’t really sound all that fun if I were being honest. I mean, people would just sit and stare at me all day or do the exact opposite and whisper hurtful comments and rumors about me. Not that I really cared about that though. I said to myself that once I was able to, I would move away from here and just live on my own. 

Today I felt adventurous though.  

I grabbed my little satchel, and headed out, the morning sun still rising above the waters surface. The ocean felt great today. Today just felt like a good day. Something that’s rare to come by when you’re all on your own. 

Where was I swimming out to you may ask? Well, for your information, I was currently heading outside of the community I live in. It’s not like it’s prohibited, but most mers don’t find a need to venture out further when they already knew what was out there. Predators, other mers, food, fish, water. There really wasn’t anything new to find out here when you’re in this ocean. I guess what they really feared were the sharks that were found near the area though. But most don’t even bother with us. Mostly because no small mer like myself is crazy enough to venture out here alone. Yeah, I’m crazy enough. 

To a large shark, I’d probably be like, half it’s size. Most likely shorter. A purple tail is a sign that you’ll be a small mer, but big enough to be on your own. I was the exception though, given that I had a brighter color and was actually the size of like a small human basically. Yes, I was made fun of by some old classmates and sometimes my parents when I was still a pup, yes I know I’m small, and yes I can reach the top shelf on the counter (I mean I can swim so-) 

Swimming along the ocean floor along with the many overgrown plants and small anemones where I saw several clownfish leave to go get whatever is was that they needed. I had found a huge coral reef far into the ocean, there were tons of colorful fish everywhere I had looked. 

I want to say it was maybe an hour long of just roaming and admiring the many colors of the reef I had just found before my eyes drifted off to something big and dark in the distance. I squinted, slightly swimming closer where, for some reason, none of the fish dared to do. 

Filled by my curiosity, I swam towards the large object, wondering what it was. It was a long ways from the reef. It was dark, only seaweed and some kelp patches were the only plants. There were some starfish and snails, some crabs, but that was all the life I could find. It seemed like this part of the deep ocean was pretty much deserted. Strange. 

I kept going, seeing that the object I was looking at looked like those metal ships humans make, except it was wooden and had a bunch of holes. I swam cautiously in, minding that this was a place far away from home and there would basically be no hope in escaping a shark or something if I encountered one. I took a look at my tail, still bright when the waters here were dark and the sun was covered by a layer of seaweed. This would be fine. Nothing was going to find me here… Hopefully. 

The shipwreck didn’t leave much behind. Just some broken pieces of old wood and some old pictures. I doubt there would be anything of worth in here honestly, but I kept on looking, fueling my curiosity. What else was I supposed to do? If I do end up finding something maybe I can show it off to the mers back at home and maybe then they’ll stop ridiculing me and making fun of me for having a bright tail. There is no way I was the only mer in the entire ocean like this! 

There was a room that looked much like an office. Broken pieces of a desk, a little container that once held ink. What I was really intrigued about was the little open chest that revealed a round pice of flattened gold. I grabbed it, studying the rust colored piece of metal. Humans used this as currency once before, right? I’m sure they don’t use whatever these were anymore. Or if whatever I was holding was even a kind of currency. It just seemed like something a human would use. 

I stuffed the gold piece in my bag and continued looking. At least until I saw a large shadow swim fast in the corner of my eye. I kept my arms close to my chest, keeping my breathing controlled before I overreacted. It was probably just a big fish… yeah. Just a really, really big fish that can swim amazingly fast. 

I saw the same shadow swim by again, but this time it bumped into something, making me let out a little surprise yelp. I immediately clasped my hands over my mouth, hearing another thunk! Before I saw the full shadow of whatever the hell was outside. It was a shark. A huge shark. And it looked hungry. 

My hands were shaky, I couldn’t move. I wasn’t going to die, right? I didn’t actually think something like this would happen! I thought those were just rare occurrences that people were making rumors about. Was I actually going to die? No. There has to be some way out of this. 

Looking around, I found a small little crack I could probably fit in if I really tried. I swam slowly closer to it, noting that the thunks outside were getting closer. Please let me get out of here alive… I kept telling myself as I hurried to fit myself in the tiny crack. As soon as I was out, something fast was coming my way, and I was swimming just as fast to get away. 

It was hard to swim when you were in a life or death situation. I never realized that until now. I stole a glance behind me, letting out a weak yelp when I saw the sharks mouth open wide. Great. It seemed like I could fit perfectly in that thing. Imagine being killed by those sharp teeth- No don’t think about that. Not right now at least. 

The water around me only grew darker as we headed deeper into the ocean. There were some small caves, but I didn’t want to really trap myself in there. I had no idea why this shark was so desperate in the first place. It was so much bigger than a regular shark, couldn’t it find something else to eat other than a mer? Like a big fish or something? 

Eventually I realized why the shark seemed so interested in me. They like bright colors. I remember being told something like that when I was younger. It’s just great that my tail is just sooo bright, right? Wow I am so unlucky. My only hope to lose the shark (Who was gaining on me really fast, ohmygoshwhatdoIdo?) is to somehow lose it in a cave or something. Hopefully there was a small space I could get into that the shark couldn’t. And of course hope I don’t run into anything else that was hungry. 

There was a huge cave in front of me, and I took my chances. I felt the sharks jaws snap behind me, just mere inches from snapping on top of my tail. I shuddered, but kept swimming fast, trying to find some kind of small cave to fit myself into. Please oh my gosh I’m getting so tired I don’t want to die-  Stop thinking like that. I’m not going to die. At least not today. 

Just a couple feet ahead of me, I spotted a tiny hole that looked like it could fit me if I squeezed in fast enough. I stole another glance, seeing the shark right there behind me. I let out a scream, grabbing the bag around my neck and throwing it back at it. It slowed it down just a tiny bit, but it kept after me. Maybe just enough time to get myself safe. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.” I muttered to myself, not noticing that something big moved in the dark. 

Right before I could fit myself through the crack hopefully leading to a small cave, I felt a sharp pain in my tail, The part I actually needed to be able to swim. I was forced out, seeing that it was caught in between the sharks sharp teeth. It let go for just a split second, before a loud growl was heard, making the shark almost instantly swim off. Tears stung my eyes (Weird because we’re underwater right?), but I blinked them away and stared at my tail fin, seeing all too many rips and tears. It hurt so, so much. 

That was when my mind had finally clicked and wondered why the shark had left in the first place. The growl. The two huge sets of dark blue eyes trained on me. The slight hue they gave off. Oh. It was just a really, really, really, huge mer. The ones that eat other mers? That destroy community’s for no reason? The one’s that were outcasted? That’s just wonderful. 

I tried swimming away, but the tears in my fins didn’t let me, making me whimper like a lost puppy. My breathing was fast, as I stared back into the eyes that would soon be the death of me. Oh I am so going to die. 

And suddenly I was encased in darkness again. 

——————

Yayyyy new characters. No worries, the giant mer is good. But oh noooo I totally didn’t hurt Nico’s tail on purpose for future purposes… Okay but I feel bad for my little mer. I’m not that sadistic.

But anyways, thank you guys for reading this little Drabble, and of course I know it’s not my best writing, but I was rushing and it’s just these last few days of school that are KILLING me. I hope you guys liked this, and thank you for reading!

[coladaminx]

he's gonna temporarily die and kacchan better catch him (╥﹏╥) i'm not lookin forward to this but i sense something crazy is happening..

[selkienight60]

💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕

Chapter 4 of Aftershock

Posted the most recent chapter up on AO3 a couple of days ago, but I did quite a bit of work on chapter 5 tonight, so I thought I might signal boost while it was on my mind.

Spread the word if you like seeing Conner/Kon being put in situations, or if you like Clark to suffer. (Lots of "Oh no! I'm your dad, boogie woogie woogie" in this one!)

💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕

🌸 If you liked this work please feel free to let me know by leaving a comment here on tumblr, or on AO3 - they make my day every time!

🌸 Please feel free to subscribe to me on AO3.

🌸 Translations/remixes/edits/fanart, etc. are always welcome of this work!

🌸 Thanks for reading!

💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡💕

[sparrowsworkshop]

"Screened" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: TFP, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Major Character Death (referenced), Megatron & Soundwave Summary: A tribute to Frank Welker for providing the iconic voices of Megatron and Soundwave—among many other characters across animation—over the years. Told from the perspectives of both TFP Megatron and TFP Soundwave, during and after the events of the episode "Crossfire." Part of the "Peace Through Tyranny Zine" hosted by @allsparkzines ! Please check out everyone's artwork and stories! They're amazing! Read on AO3; paired artwork here Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The bridge of the Nemesis revved with unchecked tension, like a jet engine that grumbled and screamed and refused to leave the ground despite the time for liftoff.

“The reason for our inability to locate Breakdown’s signal is all too clear...but how is it that you were unable to recover his remains?” Lord Megatron snapped.

Dreadwing avoided his gaze, fixating his attention on the floor instead.

An incoming message set the computer trilling with urgent beeps. Soundwave turned to open the notification.

“What is it?” Lord Megatron barked, just as the call connected.

A saccharine voice sent a teasing greeting echoing around the room. “Heard from Breakdown lately?”

Laserbeak twitched against Soundwave’s spark chamber. Silently, Soundwave looked to his lord.

“Trace the communication,” Megatron snarled. With practiced grace, Soundwave’s fingers flew over the keys. The onscreen cursor ricocheted around a virtual globe as frequencies were examined and swiftly eliminated, one after another.

“Megatron, truly,” Airachnid said through the speakers, as merrily as if she offered advice to an old friend, “you sent simple henchmen to terminate a high-ranking officer. I thought you reserved that honor for yourself.”

Soundwave’s fingers hovered in place.

Megatron stomped towards the dashboard, words aflame with vitriol. “Is that a challenge?”

“An invitation,” Airachnid corrected, mildly. “And, since Soundwave is, no doubt, tracing this signal, you know where to find me.”

Right then, the monitor flashed with the coordinates.

Megatron stared at the screen. Soundwave watched a thousand emotions smolder in his optics before he spoke with an air of finality.

“I’ll be back.”

“Allow me to accompany you,” Dreadwing proposed. “You already had your chance,” Megatron snapped. He stormed from the bridge.

Dreadwing hung his head, thoroughly chastised. Soundwave almost pitied the failure.

~

Cracks of lightning split the sky around Megatron as he flew—verily, the fury inside him come to life. As he glided into the cavern where Airachnid surely lurked, Megatron growled to himself. If you desire proper execution of a task, by the Antispark, you need do it yourself!

“I place too much faith in those who follow me,” he muttered. “The war has despoiled my troops of competence. I imagined my expectations lowered enough, and yet…!”

The mouth of the cave swallowed him. Megatron vanished into darkness.

~

Soundwave knew Lord Megatron was a fierce combatant, fully capable of handling his own. However, he also knew Airachnid. Airachnid was not your typical opponent. Even among Decepticons, she was diabolically cunning, darkly creative, and downright ruthless. Moreover, as an uncommon eight-legger, she wielded a fighting style that sharply disadvantaged Megatron’s. Whereas Megatron exuded might and force, Airachnid thrived in speed and guile. She was a trickster, an ambusher, and above all, a predator.

If Airachnid had the gall to consume Breakdown’s husk, Soundwave did not doubt her readiness to dismantle his lord as well. Airachnid was surely weaving trickery between her needling fingers, a net with which to snag Megatron in his anger. No matter his proven battle prowess, Lord Megatron would not be returning unscathed.

Against his spark, Laserbeak hummed in agreement.

Soundwave commanded the computer to sleep and drifted from his post.

~

When the Insecticon tackled him, Megatron had been thrown backwards.

Airachnid’s secret champion had slammed his neck at an awkward angle, setting it aching. Now, the Insecticon whinnied inches away from his face, mandibles waggling. Breathing heavily, Megatron seized all his strength, and thrust the creature far enough away to fire his fusion cannon.

Before he could shoot again, a web blast from Airachnid’s perch rendered his cannon useless. Utilizing the diversion, the Insecticon transformed into beetle mode, zipped forward, and tossed him into the air. A stab near the spark chamber left Megatron gasping. He hit the ground, showered by his own energon.

Instinct ignited as pain kicked in, accompanied by sheer adrenaline. When the Insecticon charged for another blow, Megatron timed its attack, and smacked the beast away with one fell swoop of his arm.

Airachnid hissed in displeasure. He cast a smirk towards her distant platform.

“You and your beast would do well to remember,” Megatron yelled, “I honed my skills in the Pits of Kaon!”

Furious as he was at Airachnid’s scheme, part of him thrilled in the unexpected matchup. Many of his memories of the Pits had been blocked out; but there was still much that he recalled. ~

Rather than stride the halls, Soundwave opened a ground bridge and teleported himself directly into his private quarters, while Laserbeak sequestered himself in the rafters outside to alert him to approaching vehicons.

Soundwave’s tentacles easily found the package, stacked in the corner among dozens of decoys. To the unsuspecting optic, the package appeared to be an ordinary Energon Cube. Courtesy of his visor, however, Soundwave could clearly identify the invisible symbols stamped all over the container, backlit by the artificial glow. A simple deception, engineered by Shockwave, meant for his sight alone.

He tapped the symbols in their proper order, unlocking the seal. The item inside snapped neatly into Laserbeak’s rest. The Minicon would fit right over it; no one would notice the extra mass on his frame.

At that moment, Laserbeak trilled on a frequency only Soundwave could hear. He tilted his head at the news.

So the failure does have some brass in his bearings.

~

“Rescue” was not a word Megatron regarded fondly; but, he decided he could live with an assisted tactical retreat.

“You disobeyed my orders in following me here,” Megatron growled.

He waited just long enough for worry to overtake Dreadwing; then, Megatron transformed his tone, almost sounding…jovial.

“You will make a fine first lieutenant,” he said through a wide, concealed grin.

~

Lord Megatron returned limping.

The average Decepticon would never have detected this; yet, Soundwave had spent enough time with him to identify when something was off. A miniscule change in his gait was all the proof Soundwave needed.

Megatron straightened his back as a group of Eradicons passed by, saluting him. As soon as they left, he grumbled and pulled a strand of web from his fusion cannon.

Knock Out welcomed Lord Megatron into the med bay. A few wayward drops of energon trailed behind him, at Soundwave’s feet.

A single tentacle unfurled, claws sweeping over the floor to wipe the energon away—out of sight.

At Knock Out’s beckoning, Lord Megatron sank onto the examination berth. Soundwave noticed how his knees quavered under him, but chose not to say anything.

~

Knock Out’s examination was prompt, as Megatron demanded. No Decepticon should ever know all his wounds or weaknesses...even his medic.

Once Knock Out was dismissed, Megatron narrowed his optics at Soundwave. “Did you send Dreadwing after me?”

“It was his own stupid idea!” Knock Out’s voice protested from Soundwave’s speakers. A favorite recording, from yet another occasion of Starscream’s troublemaking.

Megatron laughed, hoarsely. “So there is hope for Decepticon competency, yet.”

Yes, Soundwave thought, at last we have found someone faithful to your cause.

Towards his lord, he nodded, signaling Laserbeak to deploy.

Into Megatron’s open palm, a tentacle placed the item that Soundwave had guarded since their time in the Pits.

His lord’s knee brace. ~

[giggly-squiggily]

Caught In The Smoke (My Hero Academia)

Heyo! I wrote this little ol' fic for the wonderful @cupcake-spice13 a while back and- much like the fic from earlier this week- forgot to post it! Hehe, it's been one of those weeks y'all. Anywho- I hope y'all like it! :D

CW: Swearing

Summary: Dabi finds Hawks during a fight for a quick chat. In the process of that, he discovers something quite interesting about the bird man.

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @baby-tickles2022 @backy-san @nutzgunray-lvt @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo

“No! Nohoohohohohoho, wait plhehehehhehhahhhhse!”

“Aww, can’t take it, birdy?” Dabi’s voice was a low rumble, close enough to his ear so no one else could hear him. “Such a proud hero, taken down by a few flicks of my fingers. Come on birdie, sing me a song~”

~~20 Minutes Earlier~~

“Hawks, MOVE!” Endeavor called out, the only warning the Number 2 hero received before a flaming tin soared their way. With a leap and shout, Hawks was in the air, just narrowly avoiding the explosion that followed. His vision was filled with smoke tinged with blue, choking his lungs and making his eyes water. 

“Shit- Endeavor? Endeavor, where are you?” Hawks yelled, trying to find a beacon of red among the smoke. There was the faint sound of screaming- civilians. He needed to get to them- he needed to help them escape-

“Where are you going, birdy?” A new voice purred from behind. Hawks twisted- finding none other than Dabi standing among the smoke. “Surely you aren’t planning on running away so soon?”

“Miss me already?” Hawks pulled out a sword of feathers, readying the blade. “And here I had the impression you didn’t like me that much.” He shot forward, sliding under a blaze of flames that Dabi released. The sword caught fire almost immediately, burning into a crisp before fading into ash. Alright- no weapons then. We’re doing this barehanded.

“Possibly.” Dabi’s lips pulled into a grin as he evaded Hawk’s various attacks, dodging flying kicks and fists. “Figured since I was in the area I might as well surprise you.”

“You really shouldn’t have.” Hawks ducked down to kick his feet out- but the clog of smoke was thick, and his swipe was too short. “Most people prefer flowers as their surprise- not exploding tins of oil.”

“Good thing we’re not most people.” Dabi grabbed his ankle, yanking once. Hawks slipped, his hands scraping into gravel and cooling tar as the flame-villain dragged him over. “Come here, Birdie. We’ve got quite a bit to talk about.”

“Flattered, but I’d prefer candlelight dinner to this.” Hawks twisted to his belly, readying his wings. A flick of them will send the gust away- giving Endeavor the chance he needed to attack. “Why don’t you ask me on a proper date next time, eh Hot Stuff?”

“Now now- what’s the rush?” Dabi’s hand shot down to Hawk’s wings, pushing down slightly. “Ready to leave so soon-”

“EEH!”

Both of them paused. It suddenly seemed like the chaos around them faded away as they both took in the sound Hawks let out. Dabi blinked, eyes wide. Hawks felt his face burn.

“Oh wow.” Dabi finally spoke, something sly and mischievous in his tone. “What do we have here?”

“N-Nothing!” Hawks yelped trying to wiggle forward, but a knee to his lower back kept him there. “Nothing at all! St-Stay back!”

“Nothing? Then why do you sound so nervous?” Dabi teased softly, his voice close as fingers began slowly walking up Hawks spine, starting at the curve of his hips to the dreaded spot between his shoulder blades; just where the base of his wings sat. “I think you’re hiding something from me birdie; and you know how I get when secrets are brought up.”

“This is hahahrdly the time for that!” Hawks barely held back a giggle when the fingers against his back rested directly between his wings, tapping softly. “Leheheht me up, we chahan talk about it lahahhater!”

“Hm…no. I wanna talk about it now.” Dabi smirked. “Come on, let’s see just how ticklish you really are.”

~~Current Time~~

Endeavor wheezed around the thick fog of smoke, waving it away from his vision as he searched for Hawks. He heard him yell out, he couldn’t be that far. “Hawks! Hawks were are-”

“EEEH!”

The high pitched noise made him freeze, spinning on his heels. That was Hawks for sure- did he get hurt in the explosion? The civilians were escorted out- it had to be him. He charged forward. “HAWKS-”

What he witnessed left him speechless.

“Ahehahahahhaha! Nohoohohohoho! Nohooohohh, sthahahhahaap ihihihihihihit!” Hawks was on the ground, kicking and flailing like a child having a tantrum. Above him sat a figure, his face hidden by the smoke. What wasn’t hidden was his hands, currently massaging the space between the Pro-Hero’s wings like a trained masseuse. “Geheheheheht oohohohoohohff!”

What the actual- Endeavor blinked, shaking his head. Was this person a villain? Were they the cause of all this? And if so…why tickling? Was he trying to get information?

He should run over there- swat away this supposed tickle villain; capture him for interrogation. That’s what a number 1 hero does, right?

And yet…seeing Hawks on the ground laughing so hard, his face red as a beet and cheeks dimpled…it was an oddly wholesome sight. Satisfying even, given how Hawks was constantly finding ways to get under his skin. He hoped the smoke hid his grin as he shook his head; amazed by the sight.

Hawks eyes shot to him, widening some when they met Endeavors. “Yohoohhoohohhou! Nohohoohohho, lohoohohoohohohk aawhhahhahahahhahy!” He cried, face flushing an even deeper shade of red. He tried to hide his face, but this mysterious attacker dug their hands into his armpits, making him arch with a squeal. “ENDHEHEHEHEHVOR HEHEHHEELP!”

Snapping out of his reverie, Endeavor nodded. Right- middle of a fight. He shot his arms out, sending a burst of fire overhead.

~~~

“Shows over. Gotta go, Birdie.” Dabi, watching the smoke start to fade, smirked down at the giggly hero. In a rare show of fondness, he leaned forward, kissing the top of Hawk’s head before climbing off. “Find me later.”

The smoke cleared, leaving Hawks lying across the pavement with the ghost of Dabi’s lips against his hair. He winced when Endeavor’s feet came to view, slowly peeking up at him with a flushed face. “Dohoohhn’t say…a woohohohrd.”

Endeavor, to his credit, stayed silent. Even if his lips were twitching with restrained mirth. Even when he averted his gaze to hide a chuckle with a stern cough. Even as he helped Hawks up to his feet, his hand “accidentally” brushed against his wings, making him jump with a squeak.

“Are you a-alright?” He grunted, taking a short breath. Hawks glared, hoping it would hide his mortification. “Not hurt?”

“Besides my ego? Nah. Though these are gonna sting.” He held up his hands, wincing at the red lashes against his skin. “Is there any way we can leave out…that?”

“I’ll just say you were unconscious due to the smoke.” Endeavor concluded as they made their way back to their randevu point. “On one condition- you stop making dumb jokes about me for the next few weeks.”

“What?...Okay fine.” Hawks gave in, wings tucked firmly against his back. “Hey erm…thanks, Enji.”

“Anytime.”

Thanks for reading!