#also gave him BIG SHARP TEETH bc he deserves them

[sindrakart]

okay so i havent sketched anything else except these but CONSIDER: an EVEN MORE messed up simon who became so bitter his heart froze.... :)

[stormofbats4224]

This has been sitting in my drafts for a month bc I WAS gonna draw examples (and I’m halfway done with them, so they might still come) but if I leave it I’m Going To Explode

So

LETS TALK ABOUT TEEF

Side note: I’m using design and place ideas from several different continuities for two reasons: I like those versions best, and not all of these bastards are in RiD or Prime.

Other side note: some headcanons were built from reading specific fics, either by roundabout or directly correlated to, and will be credited at the end of the relevant section. Highly recommend them all, tho they are all just straight up porn😅

As it stands, there’s five groups I like to put fang types in (six if you count combined outlier types like Tarn and my Jeep Axle, but we’ll get to that later): Tetrahexan, Velocitronian, Warframe, Rodionite/Dead Ender, and Beast.

These are just where the style is seen most prominently, and most fanged bots from other places fall into one of these categories so it didn’t make much sense to split them any further. If there’s any offshoots you’re curious ab, feel free to ask!

Starting off with the smallest group, we’ve got:

Tetrahexan!

The nearly dead warrior race with a single canon representative gets its own type, why? Bc I gave him and my gal Cross Brace really cool teefers, and I think it separates them very nicely from the rest in more ways than one. Double why?

DOUBLE FANGS. AND SELF-SHARPENING.

Double fangs? Like, a set on top and a set on the bottom?

NO

Four true fangs on top, none on the bottom, made for the sole purpose of ripping through heavy armor with brute force. All four are thick and slightly hooked to better do their job, and so well sunk into a bot’s “gums” that it’s more likely to tear their own helm off than break one.

Thinking comparatively on the self sharpening, the other types of fangs are like needles or swords —needing some kind of outside source to keep them from going dull— but Tetrahexans have their own built-in sharpeners attached to their lower jaw.

Depending on the bot, it can either be a set of false lower canines that sit neatly between the front and the back fangs when the mouth is closed (Cyclonus, his false fangs are decently worn and curved outward a bit), or a set of indents that the teeth rest in like a knife block (Cross Brace, she’s absolutely terrible at not getting her lip stuck between her teeth and the slot). Both sharpen the fangs naturally as the bots open and close their mouths.

Like I said, there’s really only Cyc and CB to use as examples, but it works out bc they have the two different types split between them.

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/54813724">Listen, they deserve a ridiculous amount of Teeth</a>

Moving on, we’ve got:

Velocitronian!

Bc I believe the zoom zoom bastards deserve them, as a treat. Also bc KO exists. He will be lending his service to us today alongside my lovely, spindly asshole, Coast.

The main thing that sets Velocitronians apart is they are what we would consider the baseline. They’re your average two on top, two on the bottom set that most would assume when thinking of fangs. Except that they’re really, really fucking sharp, and the rest of their teeth are basically just incisors, making their whole mouth like one of those guillotine paper cutters.

If guillotine cutters were made to chomp through as much thin plating and tubing as fast and clean as physically possible, which they Are Not, but these bastards are!

The fangs themselves are catlike, fitting together like scissors, and about average as far as fragility goes. Their purpose is simple: take as big a chunk off in as little time as possible without sacrificing momentum.

While most speedsters are built to be light, they’re also made to be aerodynamic and even, most importantly. Chomping off even a little too much from a competitor has the chance to give someone an edge, and while it’s technically not a legal move in racing circuits, you’d be hard pressed to find a bot that doesn’t do that shit.

Knock Out, unsurprisingly, is the textbook for Velocitronian fangs, well-maintained, sharp to the touch, and neat; my little whack job Coast, on the other hand, is all the way on the other end of the spectrum: crooked, chipped, and she doesn’t care as long as they’re sharp.

Moving away from city categories, we have a build type instead:

Warframes!

You love ‘em, I love ‘em, they’re great for size differences, and who better to use than THE Warframe, Megatron? Also, Blitzwing is here because this hc is ENTIRELY his fault.

Unlike Tetrahexans and their cannibal rumors (they weren’t), or the measures Dead End Rodions turn to for survival (more on that later), Warframes are actual bot-eaters. Or, at the very least, they’re designed for it.

Paired with a tank system that can break down just about anything and convert it into fuel and frame repair, Warframes have teeth that are built to kickstart the process.

Like molars mixed with sharp gears, Warframe teeth crush without care and interlock neatly for maximum crunch and proper mouth fit. Their teeth sacrifice sharpness, but it doesn’t really matter in the end when even the strongest plates crumple under the highest psi and thickest teeth of any other fang type (teeth tend to make up almost or more than half of a Warframes mouth).

While Megatron was the textbook average for Warframe fangs at the height of the war, years of getting his aft beat ended up warping his helm just enough that they never quite sat right, and after the war he ended up getting the edges flattened down to a less intimidating shape, though they’re no less dangerous.

Blitzwing, on the other hand…

Blitzwings teeth are just weird. The front’s fine, there’s nothing wrong there, but where the molars would be on a normal set, his teeth move. They’re set on a short track that churns them backwards like tank treads, adding to the level of rip-crush-tear he’s capable of.

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24332080?view_adult=true">The Inspiration</a>

Shifting back to cities, we’ve got:

Rodionites!

Plus their Dead End counterparts! Bc this is the best example of circumstance changing the fangs use. Drift was obviously first pick for examples, and Sweeper ended up tagging along bc I wanted more lore to give him.

By far, Rodionite fangs are the weakest type one can have. They’re long, thin, and shallow-set in front of the canine position like vampire teeth, more for show than anything. They tend to be so long, in fact, that it’s not uncommon for fangs to need special pockets in or below the lower gum line to properly fit. Due to their removability, they’re seen as highly customizable frame parts, sort of like body jewelry.

The one thing they are useful for, though, is piercing lines.

I’m sure you can see where this is going.

Dead End Rodionites do what they can to survive, and if it means sometimes siphoning energon from the already deceased (or still alive, depends on the bot) to keep going, it’s a price to pay. Other than that, most will either sell their fangs for a quick shanix, or lose them in any number of ways (fights, deterioration, thieves, what have you) over the course of their functioning.

Drift was one that managed to keep his —abnormally long— fangs from the start, and not even he is quite sure how that happened, considering both his history in the Dead End and the frame rebuilds, but he’s appreciative nonetheless. Sweeper, by contrast, quickly replaced his fangs with a shorter pair. He found long, needly teeth more a pain than anything (plus dust kept getting lodged in the resting holes) and changed them out not long into his first job.

Lastly, we’ve got my personal favorite:

Animal Based!

Not only does this encapsulate beastformers, but also whatever the RiD ‘Cons had going on, and will be explained as such by my beastformer and a RiD ‘Con, Richter and Steeljaw.

The main trait of this category is that it’s far more fluid than the others. If their frame is animal-inspired, their teeth will imitate said animal within reason, and with few exceptions (the exceptions are usually bug based). Their purpose is the same, function changing with the animal, and it’s all around a rather simple category to wrap one’s head around.

With Steeljaw, he’s got the standard teeth that a wolf might have and uses them in a similar fashion, they’re just more compact and human-looking to fit better in his mouth. Likewise with Richter, though his Sabertooth fangs are the ones he uses in alt, and stick all the way front to back through his helm instead of ending in the gum (they’re also technically removable, but leave an uncomfortably large nightmare hole through his head).

The unofficial Mixed category is a group of bots that, for one reason or another, ended up with two or more kinds of teeth in their mouths. Representative species are Tarn, bc I wholeheartedly believe that man would reshape his mouth hole to better imitate Megs (his original Velocitronian-type fangs and Warframe everything else, but it was a little shoddily done, so they don’t lock together properly.), and Axle, who…technically kept their —normal-sized— Rodion teeth, just added Warframe teeth to the mix in an attempt to ensure a meal at the cost of their frames nervous system and a few non-life-sustaining bits and bobs, but they’re fine. Probably.

I wish I could say my reasons for spending so much time on this were warranted, or that the length was reasonable, but no, all this shit came from a late night fic binge and my longstanding fascination with teeth and fangs. If you read this entire thing, know I am extremely appreciative ❤️😅

[deathvsthemaiden]

Prince Harry, Prince William, Waver Velvet, Diluc Ragnvindr, Jeremy Fragrence, and Childe (Ajax)....uwa I spelled Diluc's name right on the first go!

THE DISGUST THE VISCERAL DISGUST I AM FEELING AT EXACTLY HALF OF THESE.... ur too good and dependable I LOVE u *sniffles* 😔🤕

Harry:

Yikes full stop. Yikes. || I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? || I Do Not Deserve How Could You Do This? Hmm? Et tu, Brutus? 😐

Ok listen being royalty esp modern royalty immediately cancels out any beauty god gave you in my eyes. All the poetry I wax about how there is something to appreciate in every face and body is null and void here. If we take the Some Guy approach and look at him objectively (impossible but I’ll humor you in the name of love and not being a spoilsport).... nothing I feel nothing. Maybe a whisper of contempt and a little voice in my head going “we should avoid him he’s not going to add to our life.” But that’s. IT.

William:

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him. II I’m Far Too Sane And Pretty For This?

*by this point I am shaking and crying from psychic damage* see above 👆🏽😐

Waver Velvet:

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But. I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty (I Suppose) Like If He Floats Your Boat Epic But I Might Not Attend The Wedding || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him.

his younger self awakens big sister instincts in me meaning he would be SO fun to tease and annoy + root for + naively hope he grows into a fine young man. At that young age he is not yet broken so there is no fixing to be done, but I certainly could help set him straight! Like a bonsai 💚 he’s more sinless and (unintentionally) funny and full of promise than his other selves.

His adult self however awakens the misandrist in me. I wanna come up to him unprovoked and tell him to smile or else bc that’s the only time he’s handsome imo.... also when he has vulnerable moments like being sad the shoes he bought with his first ever paycheck got ruined 🥺 or when he gets all triumphant and carefree ever so once in a while, like in the first ep of Case Files... what I mean is sometimes his prickly hard cranky veneer cracks and I catch a dazzling shimmer of handsome but... not often enough for my liking 😑 for my favored pixelated men I get a genuine kick out of their being disgruntled (sign of true love) but his grumbling just makes me want to file for divorce and we’re not even married 😐 like can you imagine road tripping with this man? I can’t I couldn’t I will not! And omg I don’t think you could make him say stuff like I love you without feeling like you’re pulling teeth... I don’t have the patience to reach that point with him. We’d be so bad for each other and not even in the fun way... his sharp way of dress and penchant for red and long hair and passion for certain subjects are just not enough to salvage him for me, if I want to be subjected to a short tempered man all day I have a father 😩 also he has the kind of sense of responsibility that would doom you if you married him I feel. Like admirable but also what the fuck dude. Taking on all of Kayneth’s debt w/o batting an eye? Mr Velvet what about your hypothetical wife and children.... like I can’t imagine him stopping to think about them in such a scenario... he’d have to marry someone like Melvin (or Melvin himself) who would get a kick out of that brash decision and support him and I’m the wrong dame! He feels like if he had a family and he grew into old age, he would end up one of those foreboding slightly frigid patriarchs w/ short fuses who have hearts of gold but you have to dig so long and hard that by the time you have reached it you’re youth has passed you by and your fingers are worn to the bone and you’re tired... so tired..... you should’ve listened to your mother and married that nice doctor within your ethnic group instead... he’s been a widower for a few years now, hasn’t he? Has a summer home in Vienna and a very nice curly beard? Last time you stalked his FB anyway....

Also his little friend Melvin is hilarious but I could never allow him into my home on the reg. I refuse. Reines is on thin ice and reminds me too much of my sister in some ways... Literally the only person he is oft surrounded by that I would not only be chill with but delighted to have over is Flatt Escardos. Love that wild little man, he’s a brilliant riot. But also a bit of a danger to himself and others I think? Idk I barely read FSF bc the niqabi character design pissed me off to hell and back and then some 😔💔

Diluc Ragnvindr:

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him. II You Absolutely Deserve Him, Bestie 🥺🤲🏽 (heartfelt + sincere)

Oh he’s pretty enough.... like def not an ugly man! But as you yourself often correctly say he’s just Some Guy! When you tell me why you love him I absolutely understand how he captivated you 🥺 but I personally am too wild of heart to be ensnared by so sober (ahaha get it? Bc he owns a tave— whatever nvm v_v)/ and stable a man.

Jeremy Fragrance:

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I Could See The Objective Appeal If He Never Opened His Mouth But I’m Too Smart To Be Taken In By Some Conventionally Pretty Features And Some Muscle™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him.

I scroll past his vids fairly fast the same way I often scroll past spider pics that make it on to my dash despite my best efforts.... when I decide to watch his videos I regret it so much and can barely finish. The way he talks and acts and the things he Just Says sans hesitation make me so uncomfy... so performative and out of touch in the unfun way and aggressive... why isn’t he an actor why couldn’t he be named Jeremy Drama... then I could lie to myself and go it’s okayyy Hiba it isn’t real I’m sure he’s sane behind closed doors 😖 anyway I couldn’t willingly stay in the same room with him for 5 min I COULDNT! I’m v confident our priorities and moral compasses are polar opposites and have you heard the way he talks about women? 🤨 I would honestly. Prefer Patrick Bateman. Not even kidding bc at least that man isn’t real and has successfully made me laugh and gets Big Mad over the dumbest stuff so I can mock him before he kills me. Also I think I could outsmart Bateman but... what does one do with JF other than... keep ur distance. Like I’d never trust either BUT. Yeah.

Childe (Ajax):

Yikes, I Don’t See The Appeal || Not My Type || He’s Alright || I See The Appeal But I’m Different™ || Cute But On Alternating Wednesdays || He Has A Kind Face And That’s Good Enough || Pretty || Gorgeous || I— I Love? We Don’t Deserve Him.

HES ERRATIC.... IM ERRATIC.... CAN I MAKE IT ANY MORE OBVIOUSSSS<3 no but rlly I love a lively straightforward man and he’s got red in his character design + is often pictured with whales? And his galactic themed suit of armor is nice 😳 he’d be fun to hang out with and divorce on grounds so outrageous and absurd we both find it hilarious ✅ like I don’t think I’ll ever love love him esp since all my knowledge of him is second hand but he sounds like a blast 💥

[ghost-ghost-baby]

Talk to me // Dabi x Tomura x Reader soulmate au // (poly)

a/n: look,,,, im not gonna lie i had to split this bc i wasn’t sure if i wanted the next part to b angst heavy or smut heavy. or both. so enjoy! warnings: angstish,,, self harm mention,,, yandere themes,,,, i think thats it???  requests: open 

The world hated you, that was it. Was it because of how you used your quirk? Quite possibly, you’d turned to a villains life without batting an eye, hadn’t you? Still, you didn’t think that meant you deserved this. You’d joined the league a month ago, Toga had bugged you until you gave in, it’s not like you had anything better to do. It’d been good, for about a day, and then like your life always seemed to do, it went to shit. Dabi and Shigaraki had come back, all over each other which was frankly what you’d expected from what Toga told you. You couldn’t really blame them, they were soulmates, you were kinda happy for them at first, until they’d spoken to you. 

“You must be Toga’s friend.” 

“You’re not what I was expecting.” 

Words had burned through your soul, you’d been waiting to hear those words since you were sixteen, and now this- this was happening? You hadn’t spoken, not wanting them to know, only nodding before you’d turned back to Toga. 

Luckily you could avoid them with relative ease, you didn’t live at the base, you had a nice apartment all to yourself that you loved. You’d worked hard for it, it was your home. And right now you missed it more than you thought possible. You could be curled up in bed with a drink… maybe some weed, but no, instead you were on some bullshit mission with Dabi. Well, technically the mission was finished, you were walking back now. He hadn’t pressed you to talk, him and Shigaraki just… thought you didn’t at this point.

“So, what’s with you and avoiding me and Tomura.” Dabi’s words had you freezing in place, biting your tongue until you tasted blood.

“I mean, it’s kinda obvious, you’re friends with everyone except us, and I want to know what you’re hiding.” You grit your teeth, you were almost back at the base, Toga was waiting for you and you could-

“Hey, stop being such a bitch!” Dabi hissed, hand clamping around your arm and making you yelp. Your eyes locked on his, mouth still shut tight and worry pounding through your veins. His grip tightened and you winced, sharp pain followed b a warmth that could only mean-

“What the fuck?” Dabi didn’t pull his hand back, staring at the blood that soaked through your shirt, coating his fingers and revealing something you’d managed to keep hidden for years. Fucking dumbass, he should have left you alone. 

“Y/n, is-”

“Fuck off, Dabi. I know what I���m doing.” You hissed, wrenching your arm away and bolting to the nearest club, he’d never go there. 

The club was higher end than you’d usually go, but heroes came here and you were betting on that to hide you. 

“There you are Y/n! Ths place was so hard to find!” Toga slid into the booth next to you, happily grabbing the drink you’d gotten for her. 

“Yeah, but no one we know comes here.” You were already on your second drink, although your friend seemed determined to catch up. 

“Good point Y/n! You were always so smart!”

“Shhhh, Toga we don’t wanna wake anyone up!” You whispered, hand covering your mouth to muffle your laughter. It was almost four am, everyone else was sleeping and you and Toga had decided to go back to the base after realizing there was no way you’d be able to make it your apartment. You made it to her room without incident, thank god, closing the door before the two of you dissolved into giggles. 

“God, we haven’t done this in ages!” Toga sat on the bed, you following without a moment of hesitation. 

“It’s been too long.” You agreed, lazy grin overtaking your face as you leant forward. Toga’s face mirrored yours, she’d always been good at picking up your moods, and her hands wound around your neck as you kissed her. You pushed her down on the bed, god her lips were so soft, hands trailing over her to try and get her clothes off. Toga was just as desperate, her fangs dragging along your lips and you weren’t even surprised when you felt a knife rip through your clothes. 

“You owe me another pair of jeans Toga.” Your tone was light, briefly pulling away before you focused on her neck.

“I always pay you back Y/n, you know that.” Her hands pulled off the shreds of your clothes, fabric littering the bed around you. You nodded,, lidded eyes fixed on Toga as you settled between her legs, pushing her skirt up and hooking your fingers on the band of her underwear. 

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Shigaraki hissed, and you couldn’t help but turn, eyes looking him and Dabi over. 

“You’re welcome to join.” You smirked, watching him tremble at the words. 

“Dabi, grab them.” He turned and left, leaving you with Toga and Dabi.

“You guys wanna have a threesome?” You joked, too drunk to grasp the situation as Dabi scoffed, tugging you up by your wrist. 

“Okay so that’s a no… just lemme grab a shir-”

“God you’re stupid.” Dabi shook his head, covering you in his jacket before scooping you up.

“Okay, easy there big boy, have you see-seen my quirk? I’m great.” You slurred, head too heavy to do anything except fall to Dabi’s shoulder.

“Whatever you say.”

“What the fuck happened last night?” You groaned as sunlight hit your face, hand pushing your hair out of your face. You weren’t in your apartment, and you were wearing someone else’s shirt. 

“God not again, I hope my pants are around…” You pushed the covers off, thankful the shirt was big enough to fall past mid thigh. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Looking for my- Dabi?” You jumped back, arms crossing over your chest. “Oh this is bad, I knew I was shitty but I’ve never gone for taken people… I really need to lay off the booze.” You mumbled, hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. 

“We didn’t sleep together. However, you did come home plastered at four am, and Tomura and I had to stop you fucking Toga and bring you back here. You passed out.” Dabi’s voice was cold and you frowned. Feelings warred for dominance, the strongest being the fact they had no business who you slept with, you weren’t theirs. 

“Okay, good to know. I’m gonna go uh, find some clothes and ask Kurogiri to warp me back home.” 

“I don’t think so. Tomura was crushed last night, and he doesn’t want you leaving the base.”

“Excuse me? Fuck that Dabi, I’m fucking going.” 

“No, you’re not. We’re gonna wait for him to get back, and when that happens we’re all gonna sit down and have a nice little chat.” 

You’d never been in a situation this tense, Dabi was standing by the door and you were left on the bed, trying to cover as much as you could with one shirt. You could have sworn there was an anxiety rash on the back of your neck, and your fingers were itching to find something sharp. Your nails had been getting long, maybe you could-

“Don’t even think about using your quirk.” You startled, eyes jumping up to meet red ones. You’d never seen Shigaraki this mad before. It was… kinda hot you had to admit. 

“Look, Shigaraki, Dabi, I really don’t see the big-”

“How long have you been hiding this from us?” Shigaraki’s voice was cold, hands twitching by his side.

“Uh well… since you guys spoke to me, I guess. You already had a good thing going and I didn’t wanna… screw it up.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make.”

“Yeah, well, I made it anyway.” You were already getting defensive, walls and masks flying back up before you could do anything.

“We’ve been waiting for you for years, brat. How the fuck could you not say anything, you’re our-”

“I’m not yours, actually, and now if you don’t mind, I’m going to find Toga. She owes me some pants.” You were pushed down as soon as you stood up, when had Shigaraki gotten that close? 

“What the fu-” You went silent as Shigaraki clipped a bracelet around your wrist, hands surprisingly gentle and you wanted to crawl out of your skin when his fingers brushed up against your scars.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, arm pulled back as though it had burned. In a way it had, it was too much. 

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Dabi finally spoke, you’d forgotten about him, actually. Wow, you really were a shitty soulmate.

“We can touch you as much as we like, you’re our soulmate.”

“Shigaraki, look-”

“Call me Tomura.” 

“Shiga-”

“Do you really wanna finish that sentence?” Hands grabbed onto your legs and you shut your eyes, waiting for his quirk to kill you, only to be able to open your eyes a second later, still alive.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet makes you immune to my quirk, Dabi has one too.” 

“Keep in mind, your bracelet also cancels your quirk, until we can trust you.” 

“Okay, I’m out.” You shook your head, trying to push Tomura off of you. 

“You haven’t even given us a chance. We’ve been dreaming of finding you since our words appeared and you won’t even give us a chance?” You were caught off guard at that, you’d never seen those red eyes look sad. 

“I uh, it’s not you guys, it’s me! I’m just… really a lot to handle, and uh… you guys seemed so happy I just didn’t wanna mess anything up?” You trailed off as the pair exchanged a look. That couldn’t be good, honestly you couldn’t see it ending up well for you. 

“Well if that’s all,”

“We’ll just have to show you how important you are to us.”

Great, they finished each other sentences. You were certainly in for a treat. 

“It’s no big deal, you guys really don’t-”

“You obviously need our help, need us. Did you know staying away from your soulmate for long periods of time declines your mental state?” Dabi scoffed despite walking over to the bed, letting his hand rest on Tomura’s shoulder. 

Okay, you didn’t know that, and it must’ve shown on your face. Tomura reached out, hand cupping your face, and you didn’t know if you liked the way it burned. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun.”

[des-draws]

it's officially July but I'm still on pride mode!!! can't stop won't stop

Here are my lgbt+/queer hcs for class 1(g)A(y)!!! Here's what they are in case you don't recognize all of the flags (bc let's be real before I started coloring this I wouldn't recognize at least a few of them either ;^; ), strap in bc it's going to get l o n g:

(also they’re listed in the order they’re shown in the deviantart post rather than this one oop)

- Ojiro is trans!! I feel like he prefers being stealth but still celebrates with all his classmates because it's such a special occasion :') - Tooru is pan and a demigirl!!! It's her first pride and she's hyped!!!! And full of love!!!!! Love Is Stored In The Tooru!!! - Todoroki is a gay demiboy!! His trauma has made his experience with gender rather vague and blurry but he's still happy to have a label to somehow describe himself!! He's using End*vor's credit card to buy all of his friends pride merch!! - Midoriya is bi and trans!! He's been so happy to see his friends discover themselves and even more so to see them celebrating :') - Iida is bi!! As the second of the three members of the Rich Kids Club, he also wants to support and reaffirm his friends by buying them pride stuff!! - Kirishima is gay and trans!! I hc that he's been basically the class' go-to for gender identity/sexuality stuff bc he's been out-and-proud since Day 1 until pretty much everyone had a big coming-out ("I'm gay!" "Cool! I think I might be bi! :0c" "I...might...not be a girl???" "I'm pretty sure I'm [ace/genderfluid/etc.]" "What's that?" "Oh, it's [...]" "...might have to look into that. I think it might fit me too?" " :'D !!!!! " ) (he probably cried bc he was so proud of everyone) and then things calmed down a bit . He's a tinsy bit sad ppl no longer come to him for it but he pushes it down because he's just so!!!!!! happy to be surrounded by so many ppl like him!! - Bakugou is gay, trans and demisexual!! The last part was the hardest for him to figure out and he spent a lot of time being confused at other people, it was when Sero shared his own orientations that he thought maybe he wasn't as alone as he had thought :') - Uraraka is bi!! She's spent years thinking her crushes on girls were just her being jealous/wanting to be friends with them/not as important/stong as the crushes she's had on boys. She's getting over that internalized stuff now and I'm proud of her!! - Tsuyu is a trans girl and a lesbian!! She's been very open about wanting people to call her "Tsuyu-chan" because she chose that name herself!! And she's so happy that everyone here is supportive of her and each other!! - Yaomomo is also a lesbian!! This is her first pride, she's so excited to see all these people with different identities and experiences come together, and while she could easily create pride merch herself she much rather prefers supporing the indepentent LGBT+/Queer creators selling their own! (Hence why she bought two different variations of the lesbian flag for both her and Jirou!) (and probably many more of the stuff you see everyone wearing lol) - (Speaking of,) Jirou is also also a lesbian and also nonbinary!! Her only connection to girlhood is her love for other girls, but other than maybe updating her wardrobe a little she doesn't mind presenting femininely. - Sero is asexual, demiromantic and genderflux!! He's v. chill about everything, he probably found out and was like "Oh. Ok cool. I'm hungy" like he has a very laid-back attitude abt his identity/orientation but he Will defend his friends' to hell and back. Group mom heck yea - Kaminari is bi and nonbinary!! He was scared shitless to the point of losing sleep when he started figuring out that he miiiight like boys too, and even more so when he realised he might not even be a boy?? Thankfully being surrounded by so many supportive people (and having Kirishima as one of his closest and more trustworthy friends) helped him accept himself :') - Mina is pan and trans!! She's always been very open about being a Romantic™ but rather than being the Disaster Pan that gets flustered around everyone, she's the Disaster Pan that flirts shamelessly using Terrible pick up lines ("If we were dating...heh.....let's just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore ;) " was the first ever thing she said to Kirishima, which earned her an extremely confused and somewhat flustered "I'm????ga y???? ???????" (it was the first time he'd admitted it out loud so he kinda thanks her for that) ) - Tokoyami is bi and trans!! A while back I read a fic that happened to have trans Tokoyami in it and was like "You know what. Yeah I can see it!" Emo culture is probably what helped him realize, with it playing around with and disregarding gender stereotypes and everything. - Aoyama is transmasculine, genderfluid and aromantic!! For the longest time he'd much rather have people mistake him for a feminine/gnc boy rather than a girl. It took him a while to come to terms with his aromanticism, since pretty much everyone expected him to be gay- he kinda expected it himself too, since he never liked girls that way, so?? But when he found out about the term "aromantic" it was like a weight lift off his shoulders. - Shoji is netrois and androsexual!! He knew he liked boys early but he's avoided dealing with figuring out his gender out of fear that he'd be disappointed- he's only ever seen nonbinary/genderqueer people depicted as androgynous and much smaller in stature than himself, so he thought he'd never fit. Seeing everyone else come out (especially the other nonbinary classmates of his), he stopped hesitating and starting working on coming to terms with himself!! - Satou is asexual and panromantic!! I don't really have much reasoning for this, I never really thought about it (or Satou himself) but when the time came to draw this I was like "Satou likes baking.....and puns are ace culture......FOOD PUNS!!! OF COURSE!!!" I'm sorry glkjhklhfdlkhj; - Koda is a trans boy!! He's had trouble recognizing it at the start because he's always been soft-spoken (almost nonverbal) and timid and kind, and """"those aren't traits of a boy""""" but he was so happy when he hit puberty and started growing So Much in stature due to his genes and people started "mistaking" him for a boy!! He came out to his parents almost immediately bc compassion and kindness seems to run in the family and he knew he'd be accepted even if they didn't completely understand!! He was more scared to come out to his classmates but when two, three, four of them come out and are accepted for being trans boys, he knows he'll be safe with them too. - And finally, last but not least, Aizawa is gay and trans!! He might act somewhat aloof about this stuff, but secretly he's very happy that his kids students all have eachother's support, and most of them their families'. Part of him is a little bitter and wishes he had the same kind of support system in their age, but he's going to be there for them if they need him nonetheless. He has his own support system now, and that matters a lot, too.

But wait!! There's M O R E !!!!! - I always love love LOVE how fanartists/editors give some of the characters more animal-like features, so I did that too!!! I went Full-on-Frog with Tsuyu (and I'm rather proud of how she came out (lol) ), but also I gave Mina some Sharp Chompers and a Fluffy lil' tail bc It's What She Deserves, and Ojiro a lil' toof poking out and ears that sharpen a lil bit at the tips? I hc that as he grows, other than his tail he'll start growing more animal features like that- sharper teeth, longer ears, claws and also, get ready.....pawbeans........the last ones give him Heck when they start growing out, and he needs his palms massaged at least once a day while they do :'( His legs get weird too and they end up looking more like a wolf's back legs :0c - I gave a lot of them freckles!!!! bc I Love Freckles!!!!!! also, as my sister very eloquently pointed out, I gave Uraraka "A R M S,,,,," bc. let's be honest. the girl got martial training she's not a twig - Sero is holding the polyamorous flag behind himself, Kaminari and Mina bc.. u guessed it,, they're all dating each other,,,,, lotsa smooches and cuddling and shenanigans bc there's only maybe one(1) braincell between the three of them and most of the time sero has it - Todoroki, Midoriya, Iida, Kirishima, Bakugou, Tsuyu, Yaomomo, Koda and Aizawa are also autistic. Yes all of them. No I won't explain. (unless you ask in good faith and want to share your own hcs pls ask me then I'll explain everything and you can expect it to be as long as this description!!!!!) (I might draw something about it when it's April again maybe *thinking emoji* ) - Oh!!! and Tooru, Kaminari and Mina are ADHD. Kirishima is also dyslexic. - Bakugou has been losing his hearing ever since he entered U.A.- sure he's always used his quirk but never freely to that extend and with so much power behind it, so getting into fight after fight with such close proximity to explosions that big really did a number on his ears. He can hear a little better with the right one than the left, so Kirishima has gotten used to walking by his right side before his custom hearing aids came in, and then just stuck to that. Bakugou's custom hearing aids block out any noise above a certain volume bc let's assume technology has advanced to do that. When he and Kirishima started thinking about working together as heroes even after they graduate, Bakugou requested custom ear protectors with similar block-out features as his hearing aids for Kirishima so his ears aren't damaged by working so close to Bakugou (Kirishima cried). - I'm actually quite flexible on which of the two I hc as trans, or if I hc both of them to be. The "both gay + demi Bkg" is pretty set in my interpretation of them, but I find it interesting how their friendship/relationship could manifest and grow somewhat differently depending on if both of them are trans or if only one of them (and depending on which one of them it is). They're still the same loud rowdy boyes we know and love but there's different conversations to have and difficulties to tackle between them based on that factor alone, and frankly? I Adore It.

Okay that's all!!!! I think. Thanks for reading, if you did!! And if not, I completely understand lol

I hope you had a great pride month!!

[spacegaywritings]

Communication of Silence - Chapter 9: Ups and Downs

I am rly tired and i think now TWs outside of the general ones for the whole story apply. Except there is food ig? Idk man, shoot me a message when you got sth I overlooked bc I am just big stress rn. linky link :) Story under the cut;

Virgil shuffled under his blanket and pushed his bottom lip forward into a little pout. His head was pounding dully and his vision was just blurry enough to have issues seeing Dee despite her being so close around.

“Talk...”, he repeated softly and nodded. The sleep was still heavy on her limbs, the nap seemed to have left him in a more tired out state than before. Exhaustion was pulling at his body and he extended his arms, making grabby hands like a little toddler who wanted to be picked up. Declyn gave him a smile and carefully moved around to let the other wrap his arms around her neck. She moved and tugged Virgil along.

Logan was far away enough to not directly be disturbed for now. He was still peacefully slumbering in the middle of the couch while the couple slowly moved away. “Room”, Virgil muttered as he held onto Dee who supported him without complaints. She nodded. “Of course.” The elder one carefully helped Virgil up and together they silently sneaked over to the room he shared with Logan. At least now he was sleeping and sure to not come back.

Virgil’s arms were lowered down to be around Dee’s chest by now instead of the neck. It helped him stretch with more comfort and still have the stability of walking around without immediately dropping to the floor like the wet sack of stones he was to his own life. He bit his lip as his partner reached out to open the door with the precision and care he would not have expected from the other considering his eyesight and the fact that it was dim enough to almost be dark at the moment.

The punk muttered an apology as the door opened and he leaned back, rolling onto his feet in a more straight-up position. He held onto the door frame and swung himself into the room, stumbling a little before he patted the light switch with a slap of his left hand that crossed over his chest to reach around to it. Light immersed them and blessed their eyes with temporary hurt in exchange for better vision after a few moments of adjustment.

Dee groaned at the new light and stepped into the room, dragging the door behind her until it was shut and closed them both off the others. Right now, they were alone with the elephant int the room. Virgil carefully slipped onto Logan’s bed instead of making the long way around it. He settled once he slid off it and right onto his mattress that was conveniently close.

Yes, he did not mind sleeping there, no matter how much people got worried about him or told him it was undignified or something. He liked it. Also it was a short-lived thing and he would move out in about a month. He would be fine together with his brother and he would be out of all the bullshit. Then again, he had not even a single problem with Logan.   Far from it.

He could see Dee move to join him on his little bed and she stayed at a distance. “Thank you for the light, Virgil” The art student cast a glance aside and shrugged. “Just spill it, okay? What did I fuck up this time - I.. I can stop, okay?”

Her expression changed from remotely pained to utterly horrified. “Virgil, no.” She breathed out and closed her eyes, her more neutral expression switching back onto her features in an attempt to ease up herself as much as Virgil. “I am worried about you. I do not want you to change for my liking but for your health.”

The student shook his head and gripped his lower arms through his sleeves. Immediately, a rubbing, intense pain spread through his left one and he hissed at the sensation yet denied the possibility of letting it go.

“Just tell me what I fucked up!”, he snarled, teeth ramming into his lip as he desperately kept his gaze on his mattress. The lawyer sighed softly but did try not to aggravate the other too much. Virgil was much like a cat and if it was not fight then it was flight - the mood would change faster than a dysfunctional compass needle could spin under the influence of magnets. “It is less about what you do but what you do not do, Virgil. You stopped eating again. Your friend messaged you and I saw it when your phone vibrated so much, it almost woke up you and Logan. A chain of whether you are alright and reminders of eating and taking certain supplements because you fainted in your self-defence training session.”

Virgil chewed on his bottom lip a if to bite through the situation. White, sharp teeth dug into his pale lips and created a contrast that would only be topped by the copper taste of crimson running from broken skin and destructive habits. “Yeah, so?” He grabbed his arms tighter and winced at the pain yet stayed grounded. It was shooting through him. It was quick like a bunny in the moment of flight and sharper than Dee's words had ever been.

Oh no. “My heart, would you mind giving me your hands, please? I just want to hold them for you.” Virgil looked over, merely glancing over her legs and shrugged eventually. His lips moved off his teeth and he shifted his legs to the so he could carefully reach over to give Declyn his hands. She received them and gently pushed her thumbs into his palms, softly brushing over the area in the middle of his hands that was a tad lower. The touch reminded him of stepping into a tub of hot bath water after a particularly icy and stressful time. It was sudden and he wanted to pull away at all the new sensations. The heat, the comfort, the smells and the hands that grabbed the heavy burden of his problems and worries. He did not pull back. Virgil eased into the touch like he would ease into the welcoming warmth of a relaxing bath. “See? I am not hurting you, Virgil. It is all good. I am just worried around you.”

The younger one nodded carefully and insistently stared into their hands. “Did you talk about it in therapy, darling?” Virgil sniffled and shrugged. “I can skip lesson and go tomorrow”, he mumbled into his hoodie. The fabric soaked up his anxiety and became heavy with his fear in solidarity. “Em lets me have emergency sessions if it is really bad.” Dee continued brushing over his hands, his thumbs moving in a steady rhythm. They travelled smoothly like the waves of the ocean that approached and left the beach curiously. It was a promise to rely on, the kiss of goodbye and the embrace of meeting again after so long.

“You do not have to. But if you feel that you relapse maybe you should talk to someone. If it has to be  professional, then so be it.” Virgil snorted. “You are a professional, Dee.” - “I am talking about a professional for mental health issues more than legal ones but I appreciate your effort.”

A long silence stretched between them like a tired cat. One end reaching up to Dee's knee over to Virgil's big toe. “Why did you stop?”

Virgil felt tears sting into his eyes, the words pushing his lacrimal glands to squeeze out the salty liquid he had stored plenty of in his body. He gasped for air. His lungs were raging and howling within him, demanding more and more air to enter his system without really appreciating it. They were simply throwing a tantrum for the sake of messing him up even further.

He shoulders flinched upwards in a weak motion and immediately dropped down to the lowest level they could anatomically reach without possibly be broken in the first place. His teeth clenched around his lips again. They were stuck and sucked into a grasp of violence and abuse as he stubbornly shook his head. The blood rushed through him in a quick sprint, painting his cold body in panicked flushes like rashes of abused skin.

“N-nothing”, he defended. His voice was deflated, thinner than hair strands that were bleached into oblivion and disintegration. Declyn’s warm eyes took the change into account and watched the rapid speed at which his lungs expanded and, just shortly after, decreased in volume like a popped balloon.

She carefully squeezed Virgil’s hands with a tad more force, acting like a strong life line that may cut into you but ultimately, caused nothing but collateral damage. Glass and metal shreds pressed into Virgil’s feelings as he gasped for air. His legs pushed and pressed his back further into the pillow behind him and the uncomfortable corner between the wall that backed up his mattress, and Logan’s bed bordering to it. He was effectively resting his shoulders against the wall and the bed, his back pushing into the nothing he could not reach due to the angle.

It would have caused more than dull pressing sensations rather than actual pain his body provided as warning signal. However, he could feel the heat coming from Dee as his body seemed to fade. All life and personal warmth was draining from him, down the pipes and into the void he felt eating him away. He was glad for it.

“Virgil, Virgil, listen to me”, Dee called out as Virgil starting tugging at her grip in an attempt to claw his finger nails into his skin and ground himself, just come back to where he should be so he could be faced with every dirt and filth he deserved to be pushed into him. All his sucky habits and horrible attitudes should qualify him to suck up to the damage he had done to others when he brought them down with his mere existence.

He was a bad influence. Virgil should not be, he should be gone gone gone because he kept hurting nice people in his life. He made Kyle worry and have Dee be mad with him - and she was right about it. If she had any sense of right and wrong with her like any other conventional person, she would beat it into him and let him feel just how much pain he had caused her by abusing the feeling she had in herself for his own sorry self.

Gasps and sobs could be heard but Virgil was deafened and muted by his own racing heartbeat. It was beating a lot right now, probably making up for the times it could not beat when he would miss out on all these years he could have but was not worthy of. He had not earned a single day more than beyond the day he was born and had wretched people apart, tearing life down with him and starting his career as professional bringer of misery and death.

It was his fault, his fault, only his fault. If he had not survived, everyone would have had a better and nicer life. If he had not lived in the first place, everything should have been goon and precious to everyone and people would finally be full of joy. Heck, not just individuals but whole countries and systems would be better off without the chaos he had caused. The best achievement in life was truly taking care of a rodent he should probably have never taken in but he just had to be so self-absorbed and convinced he was better than others and would do such a great job when in reality, he was the apparently oh so innocent manifestation of doom.

“Virgil. Virgil, can you hear me?”, a voice called. He barely heard it. His head fell back against nothing and almost rolled off. His joints had him good and instead, it unceremoniously snapped backwards and circled around like an egg. He took the effort to angle his neck a bit just to try and locate the noise that intruded into his system and disturbed his thoughts. The sounds just came in, wrecking the havoc in his mind and tearing down the storms of self-deprecation like an ideal sniper who gave just one sound here, another one there and directed yet another load of sounds into a direction Virgil did not even know he was bombarded from.

It took some more moments for him to let his knocked down mind process that the shit storm of pessimistic thoughts was barely hitting him anymore despite aiming at his form. In true fashion of lethargy, some more time passed before he blinked away the veil of self-directed odium and contempt and could see the distant picture of two hands holding a pair of other hands together. Colours were melting together but he felt as if he knew those were hands.

The artist hummed at the sensation. It was a weak attempt at vocalising the gratitude within him. For some reason, he just felt that these hands were something good, something personally connected to him like a string attached to his heart. It was so strong, he could feel the ghastly phantom touch at the area he assumed to be his own fingers.

“hm..huh...hm..”. Nonsense plunged from his slightly parted lips. His face was static, slow. It was frozen water, a video stopped in the middle of a scene while the rest of the world was still moving on despite his conserved state. Maybe he was in a snow globe. He was the middle. Unmoving, unimportant and surrounded by all that made people wonder and squeak in delight while he was the decoration people tolerated. He was the least of the worst ones.

He blinked, trying to clear up the whitish coat that seemed to not just blur his vision but darken all he could see as well. It seemed so unsteady and moving... It made him sick and...and sweaty and sick... so sick and heavy..

His fingers moved to sign “bathroom”, a word Dee knew at last. Whether or not she had but a few knowledge about the language used, she knew this words as part of a few common phrases she could react and identify at last. She nodded and carefully tugged the corpse-like body of her datemate forward.

He did not know what took so long about making eggs but he was grateful that Roman and Patton took their sweet time preparing things one by one and especially using sweet potatoes because they took a while to get soft enough for comfortable consumption. The couple made it into the room without issues and Declyn quickly shut and locked the door behind them after stumbling through the dark and running a few edges of furniture. It did not hurt too much but she was glad that she usually covered about as much as she could without appearing to be suspicious to other people or mask her face away. She could feel little areas throb in pain at the impact but it was none of her concern at the moment.

Virgil immediately dropped to his knees, arms ready to embrace the porcelain throne before him as he felt heat and sweat break through his body. Sick, nauseous. It was tickling in his throat, trying to provoke Patton’s baked delight out of him.

There was something else. Not within him. Besides his pounding heart, light head and sweating palms, there was the distant sound of another voice. Not his thoughts but another person.

It sounded like Dee but did not feel liker her.

”Sweetheart, you are safe”, she cooed patiently. Her words dropped onto him like water droplets in a cleansing shower. His body temperature seemed to immediately drop.

”It is okay. I would never hurt you. I am sorry for touching you.”

Virgil heard the words and took them in, accepted them with a dazed head and heavy yet light feelings in his body. This was like being drunk but there was no fun in it. There was so much going on within and outside of him, he could barely keep track. It was.. was like standing in the middle of the busy street, tires roaring and engines blaring while the heavy vehicles sped around him. And he was trapped and caged and could not get out and it was dangerous and loud and bad, so bad. Why was it so bad, why was he standing there! This was dumb, he was dumb, he must have done dumb things to make all of this happen and endanger him and others and he was so scared and worried. Oh fuck, he would die a nameless and faceless victim in a dumb car crash and no lane was every free enough for him to run over to the other side and be safe.

He could not even try it, he would never try it because it was doomed. He was bound to fail, he was, he.. he was already

..warm.

A warm hand gently caressed his cheek, brushing over his cheekbone. A silent yet constant sound could be heard. Like rushing of the water. Water did not hurt him.. water was okay..

”It is okay, you are safe.”

Virgil nodded against the heat in his body, the heavy and heat feeling that had him so dizzy. It was hard. It felt so hard.

The water sound returned and slowed down, Virgil concentrated on it with all his might. He tuned out all the sounds, all the voices and the worries. Nothing mattered. Just the water, just the sound from out there. His heart was not going to jump out of his chest, his body was not going to collapse and he would not just die.

What about his lungs-

Panic flared up within him once more. His small figure retreated and hit itself on a wall just to lean into the steady touch of something to lean against, to hold onto.

”Virgil, please, can you hear me?”

He nodded again. The voice was nice, he knew the voice was nice and he was okay... the voice made it okay. It would be okay. His tired eyes closed and he let his body slump against the wall.

”Put your feet down and press them against the ground, feel the floor, okay?”

There.. was no real sense to him or anything at this moment so he just did as he was told, trusting the voice to continue and be nice as he felt it would continue to be. Nice voice... Ground.. ground.. His toes curled and pushed his heels back against the ground with all the resistance he deemed fit. It was ..experimental and careful at first. There was a motivation and understanding that was not in these heels but somewhere else.

”Ease up, again”

He followed the instruction and let himself go limp. The whole tension had served him in nothing but pushing his back against the wall. It was a wall, a cool wall but it was not cold.

”You are here, Virgil. You are right here with me and you are safe.” He nodded again. His head just bopped forward as if knocked out but he was moderately-paced at leaning his head back against the wall once more. ”You are at home, do you know? You are here, in the bathroom. You live here with Logan in a room. Logan is a nice person, right?”

The emo smiled for a bit. He might not feel the happiness like sunshine in his heart but it did do the job to make the dull numbness fuck off a bit more.

“And you are living here and you are safe and you are not there anymore. You are not with them anymore. You are with people like Logan, like myself.”

Virgil felt his lip twitch into a lopsided smile. It was but the flash of a moment, the split in a second and the beat of his heart. Yes, Logan was nice. Dee was nice. She was really kind and made him feel pretty good. Like a natural thing.

“You are safe. Right here, or with me.”

The smaller one carefully nodded and slowly rose his hand to pat the space next to him before he started pushing his heels against the floor again. A grounding activity, he remembered it now. He knew it very well but sometimes it just slipped his mind when his panic curled around his eyes like a blindfold. But grounding was good.

If there was one thing Virgil has learned in all these years, then it was that one panic attach easily paved the way for another. It was important to ground yourself even afterwards and just make sure that you were really safe and back in reality. It was too easy to jump from one into another spell of dissociation.

Dee’s hand carefully pushed its back against the side of his hand and he took the invitation with delight.

“You are here, you are safe. I promise you are safe with me.”

Virgil nodded.

“I fucked up, though.”

Declyn shook her head.

“Oh, why would you say that. It was a silly misunderstanding.”

Virgil scoffed.

“A good enough one to set me off”, he shot back dryly and cleared his throat. His voice felt a bit raspy and his words felt like torture to him. The emo dragged every last breath out of himself. ”Uh, not what I meant, anyway.”

He carefully gestured to his right arm and sighed. Sometimes it felt as if he was the only one to really mess up his life. It was not on others but it was on him. Well, not that he would let himself think into that at this moment. He knew better than to do this kind of foolish thing.

“Aw, don’t be dramatic! We can fix this. Let me see.”

She extended her arm and Virgil rolled his eyes in return but willingly rolled up his sleep to reveal a bunch of colourful marks along with dark streaks. The curves and swings formed words and letters, they were strings putting it all together and forming a big arrow and meanings more than just a literal one.

“I know you pressed on it a lot but it seems fine. Come on, let us get out before the others get worried. You can keep an eye on it, so nothing happens. If you are worried, you can go to the parlour and tell them what happened.”

Virgil shook his at Dee carefully pulled the sleeve back over the tattoo. It was covered by a thin foil that almost reminded him of stickers. When his arm was in certain positions, it would wrinkle up a bit but it was solid. It was there to protect him and his new little treasure.

He hummed.

“I’m sorry.”

Declyn already got up and straighten out her clothes before she leaned down to offer Virgil a hand. He gladly accepted and got up with a bit of help from a supportive wall and his wonderful friend.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetie Vee, I know you are trying.”

The smaller man looked down at his socks and curled and uncurled his toes once more.

“I um”, he started but stopped himself again. Words were so hard. His were just trying to put things into movement he did not know to put into any phrase. It was a wild chase for sense in an intense situation.

“I..it got a bit dumb again and I was worried and had shitty dreams and such.”

Virgil shrugged it off, his head rolling over the side of his shoulder and leaning on it. His tongue pushed against his gums. Words... words...

“uhh.. I will try talking about it next time, okay?”

For a moment, Dee’s face was unreadable. Her lips were moving from side to side. Just a bit, merely more than a twitch. It felt like she was playing with the words, weighing them against one another to construct the perfect sentence as she tasted the flavour of his syllables.

“Okay. Please, try. I do not want to hurt you, Vee. I hope you know this.”

The other blinked up for a moment before casting his glance down again, just for a bit. Only to look up at her and into her eyes with a determination in hi face.

“I-I am safe with you .”

She nodded and carefully stretched out her arms halfway, they looked awkward at that angle but not quite as awkward as fully stretched out arms would be. Well, there was nothing odd or wrong if he just so happened to take another step and walk right into her literally open arms and just let himself be engulfed.

“You are. I am not like them, okay? I don’t want to hurt you, Virgil. I would never want to cause you any harm. I just asked because I am concerned for you. I know you have been so much worse last year.”

She did not want him to go back to that. ...Maybe Declyn did not say it but the sigh that followed her words spoke more hours of audio books could fill.

“Mh... you are so much better”, Virgil argued and carefully nudged her. “We should still go. I have no idea whether they are politely waiting for us or if they are actually taking that look to make some fucking eggs.”

Dee rolled her eyes this time and leaned back a bit, her eyebrows narrowing as she eyed the smaller individual before her. Her heart was filled with warmth.

The two started moving towards the door to exit the room. Virgil hooked one of his arms around his love and nudged his Dee with his head. She was a bit shorter than guys were on average but it was enough for Virgil to reach her shoulder only. His face buried itself a bit in her loving chest as they walked on.

“You really are the best”, Virgil reiterated, his words muffled by the fabric of Dee’s clothing.

“I am still sorry for not talking. Will do better.”

She smiled.

“Go to therapy or you can party alone next week”

Virgil snorted at that. Nobody else would be that dry and just shoot back with an answer like that. Dee was his sunshine, his hope on a fiery tongue. Did she ever do as expected?

Virgil squeezed her into a hug.

“I will.”

“I know.”

Steps outside could be heard and a loud Roman seemed to announce something. It was obviously his boisterous voice but his exact words were swallowed my the door between the two lovebirds and the three friends outside. They were in completely over worlds, different events and feelings holding them together and building up a unique scene of feelings and mutual understanding.

“And I love you, Dee”

She stopped for a moment and let herself look back at her joyful friend.

“You know I do love you too, Virgil. I love you with all my heart.”

Her gorgeous arms would around him and drew him in for a deep hug. Limbs and hearts joined in and let the hymns of the outside just disappear for a little longer. The panic was gone, Roman was forgotten. And if it was not for eggs to have a strong smell, even the meal would probably be fully wiped from their minds but the savoury sensation got to them, got to the bathroom like a sneaky snitch.

The emo took another deep breath, simply inhaling the warmth and love he was willingly provided without trick or secret conditions. It was a mutuality, a natural exchange between them. Constant, equal, balanced.

“Mhmm... the eggs smell good~”

“They better do because you really need to devour some food right the fuck now, my love.”

Virgil unlocked the door and opened it for them to get back into the happenings of this home. Once back into the kitchen, they could hear whatever had been up with Roman before.

The man had grabbed a roll of wrapping paper and pointed it at Logan, Patton in his arms and giggling in his giant demeanour of being ridiculously tall for a person that was a human being. “I demand it one last time, foul creature, hand back the princess!”

Logan blinked at Roman, lightly.. out of place. He looked a bit as if he had been dragged onto stage and he did not know the words to the scene and everyone was staring at him. The glassgreen-eyed man was still giggling in fits while hugging Logan close in a squeaky joy of childish delight.

Before Virgil even got to ask about what was going on, Dee caught on to this and put the back of her hand up to her forehead and let out a sigh, dramatic enough to put Shakespeare into a position of envy.

“Someone stop this violence and bloodshed! This is insanity” Her voice dropped from full and proud to thin, it was about as thin as the patience of a person in an emergency situation.

Roman had to be proud. His eyes sure seemed to sparkle with something undefinable at this moment.

“Please, this beast and I have taken to end this situation. We mortals and the magical beings shall make peace and live in harmony!”

Beast? He was a beast now?

”Hey!”

“Honey, you literally are a small demon.”

“...you are more demonic than I could ever make out to be, Dee”, he pouted in response and let his arms cross over his chest. “Whatever, let’s fucking end a war and shit.”

The princess giggled again. “Yeah, Roman! The dragon makes for really great cuddles! He hugged Logan as if to emphasise just how huggable he was! And huggability was a direct indicator of kindness and peacefulness. Which, again, showed just how low the level of likelihood to ”take-over-the-kingdom-and-enslave-humanity” was. ...At least in case of Logan.

Roman looked at the sudden turn of events, he admitted the twist but would he admit defeat? He might have been wrong, he might have been biased by his own stance as a human being, himself. What if he did? His doubts lowered his weapon and in the moment of vulnerability, his determination faded and Declyn was quick to snatch up a nearby roll herself an smack Roman’s sword out of his hands!

A huge gasp followed the betrayal and Patton sucked in a sharp breath. This blew, this hit so deep.

Virgil already caught the falling weapon and flash-stepped back into his partner’s circle.

“Roman, I challenge you. You are guilty for evoking hostility between the fantastic and simple beings, you are the villain to tilt the balance!”

She pointed her sword at the prince, who was still mourning over the loss of his own shiny weapon. Meanwhile, Declyn’s rich voice was back to the usual strength of a proud man and she stole all of Roman’s determination from him to enrich herself with this resource.

“No, how could you! You disarmed me in my own battle!”, the prince retorted in indignation. Hot feelings flooded his body. His eyes wandered from Declyn to her partner. “And you took my beautifully manicured sword!”

Virgil shrugged at that, his mouth twitching into a lazy corner for a lopsided-grin. ...and then he blew really mature raspberries at him. "Suck up, Princey. War sucks and only the higher-ups seek battle rather than conversation." His voice sounded so excited, it was amazing he did not jump out of his socks with all the energy circulating within him. Clearly impressive. Dee let her hand travel down to Virgil’s grip on the sword he had taken to be his. He had stripped Roman of his word, off his sword. There was barely any left to the pride of this man.

“I love you my dear but I feel we need to take a less violent approach.” She gently squeezed Virgil’s hands and he slowly lowered his sword, eyes sparkling red warnings at Roman who still stood there, frozen and perplexed at how the game has changed in under a minute. Much to his disadvantage.

Logan cut in, for the first time.

”I believe we need to call for equality in this mater. Violence has brought this terrible situation upon us and has made love illegal to us simple beings.”

His words were clearer than glass, they felt cold but in a refreshing manner. Like stepping into the water underneath the frozen surface of a natural lake. It was everywhere and it ran deep into Virgil, dripping slowly yet flooding his mind with meaning in less than a moment. There was an intent behind Logan’s words.

“Equality? You don’t mean some shit like going back on how it used to be, right?”

Roman scoffed at them.

“Equality? You are my subjects and your words are an incredulous audacity to my work and status!”

Virgil glared at the prince. There was enough feeling to burn down the parliament in these eyes. They were dark like the night of mischief in which any resistance group would rise up to revolt against the state as it was. To change everything radically and drastically without warning, without open ears.

“One of us”, Virgil prompted and Roman’s eyes grew wide. Could he taste the disgust for being just as valuable as any other life? “One of us! Yes, Roman!”, Patton cheered happily. His cheeks went wide and he held out his hand to let Roman in.

He invited him.

“I might love a dragon but all in all, I just love his heart. We all have a heart.”

Dee cleared her throat.

“As a vampire, I kind of do not but go on, dearest companion.”

Virgil nudged her to lower her sword which she had pointed at Roman, still. She slowly blinked at the man and arched an eyebrow at the royal. expecting something.

“This is a riot”, Roman started but his words dried up in his throat and he had to clear it, granting himself another moment of pause to consider his words. “You want to abolish the royal family in this land but can you dethrone all royals in this world?”

Virgil dropped the beautiful and freshly manicured sword, still keeping his intense gaze fixed on the struggling prince. The weapon fell down in tragedy, the metal making a clattering sound. (It was a paper roll still, it just made a dull sounds but this was a fantasy world we were improvising here) A quick kick let the sword cry out in abandonment, in rage and frustration.

In war.

“Maybe we cannot but love surely can. And we will try.”

Dee dropped her roll as well and stretched out her free hand to invite Roman as well. Logan joined, extending his long arm to welcome Roman into the life of a common person, the life of struggle and family, the life of everyone. The prince still seemed torn, one foot closer to the group of unusual lovers and one closer to the kitchen unit and the cooling dinner eggs.

“You do not have to be afraid, Roman. You will be respected as a person, not for a crown.”

The prince looked to the side and picked up a small package of big loops.

“I want us to have rings together. I will give up my crown to step down as a royal but I want us to have a new bond. If you want to fight for what you believe is right, then I want to take a part in doing good deed and strive for a betterment of our world.”

Patton squealed and hopped up, nearly shaking the apartment with his powerful hop. He immediately dashed forward to embrace his friend, happy sounds and extensive praise leaving his mouth as he pressed their bodies together and told him about how he was proud of his insight. Logan was dragged along and nobody could deny the obvious smile that turned his usususally rather spacey or stone-cold face into a sweet mask of affection. He still insisted on holding out his hand but this time, he invited a beast and a heartless creature.

They all cheered to getting their respective share of fruit loops and everyone got milk (dairy free or regular cow’s milk). “I declare us to be companions to defy laws and rules for the sake of love and true love only!”, Roman started and held up his cup, raising it a bit for everyone to see and the others mimicked the motion.

“To love!”, the former prince invited. “To our union”, Patton added. “To relationships”, Dee offered and Virgil followed “to the revolution” with a cheeky grin. Logan blinked. “To true love”

Their cups made sounds as they all clashed together in a weird traditional way.

“Anyway, food is getting cold but this was fun, friends!”

Roman whined.

“Patton, you ruined the sceeeene”

His emphasis on the last word was obvious with how much he drew out the syllable. A loud crunching sound drew more attention to itself than Roman to his words with how much he bastardised the pronunciation of certain words in his dramatic flair.

“What? It’s fruit loops and I am hungry”, Virgil mumbled between his broken pieces of a green loop. It was sweet and artificial but he could bet he was already addicted. If he was a kid, he would bet he could see rainbows upon consuming this.

“Yes, Virgil is right. We united a fictional world so now we should assemble to eat at last”

“Thanks, Log”

They finally settled around the table, Virgil and Patton bringing the food over because he kept insisting it was the least he could do for sleeping through cooking. That was a lie. Patton probably knew it. The way Patton smiled at him with his glass green bottle eyes just let him know that he knew. He must have heard the door or seen them sneak over.

He was too scared of sounding weird if he asked how it took them this long to finish eggs but when Logan rolled his eyes and blamed Patton for starting “this ridiculous scene in the first place”, he blinked at the giant. They both knew. Virgil smiled and signed a quick thanks before returning to the table to lay it with food and others.

“Virgil, why do you call Logan ‘Log’?”

Patton glanced over Roman and Virgil for a moment as the latter sat down next to Declyn. She moved her arm under the table but did not put it on the table either. The emo simply fidgeted a bit in his seat, all limbs moving a bit as he adjusted on his chair.

“Uh, because I do?”

Weak answer. He gave it a shrug to emphasise the point. Roman arched an eyebrow at him, his features looking oddly wrinkled in a reaction he did not want to provoke. His gaze seemed distant yet so fixed on him and there was interest burning within him.

“Yes, but how did you come up with it? Is there some kind of story? It sure is a special nickname and I wish to be enlightened.”

Dee chuckled, curled up lips hidden behind a dark hand. The back of it was all the others could see instead.

“Do you feel in the right mood to enlighten the advocate of dragons?”

Virgil shook his head. It was his turn to giggle and he hid his full face in his hands. Declyn retreated her hand and looked at him, her lips still forming a smile of fine amusement. It was the mere ghost of a smile but it was warm and gentle when she observed the little wrinkles that formed around Virgil’s mouth. She could mentally see his nose scrunch up despite it being hidden behind his hands.

“Come on, Virgil, implore the idea of expanding Roman’s horizon with the precious knowledge of your nickname-giving abilities.”

Virgil giggled harder, his sleeves flailing for a bit as he adjusted his hands and rubbed them deeper into his face. His head was nothing but black and purple hair as well black jacket with single neon stripes on each side.

“I- “, he started, words breathless and useless. They were barely audible. Not to mention how torn and incomplete the one tone itself sounded already. He took a deep break and cleared his throat. One last giggle took him back and Logan brushed through his hair. “Dee, stop, I will talk just stop already”

He whined, drawing out the last ‘stop’ as he pushed his sleeves against Dee’s lap for dramatic effect to his words.

“It is just a joke about logarithms because when I met Logan, he was literally reading a book about numbers.”

Roman blinked.

“That does sound an awful lot like our teacher”

Virgil nodded, his head going up and down at an amazing speed. Dee gently squeezed his thigh and caused the other to curl up in his seat and take her hand.

“Needless to say I do not approve of the name. I did not do it back then, to clarify, but I do not approve any more of it by now, either.”

Virgil blew raspberries at Logan but because English was not exactly his best subject and he did not grow into it, he would call this action “farting at someone”. Logan gave him a look but even his glasses on his nose looked delighted.

”You are such an adult, Virgil.”

Patton let out a soft “aww” but did not do anymore but start to give everyone some food as silent indicator that they once had a plan.

Roman blinked.

“Wait, you are an adult?”

Virgil’s brows knitted together into a frown. Apprehension and the disability to understand the other sketched the features of his face into a near-neutral mask.

“Of course I am. I sign contracts and leave countries without parents, learn how to drive. I do all the adulting things. I work with Logan. You should know I am an adult.”

Words burned on his tongues. His sentence turned more and more sour with each word he spilled.

His therapist said it was bad.

Roman shrugged.

“Chillax a bit, Charlie Frown. I did not know that. I thought you lived here because you could not get your own place.”

Declyn dropped her fork, letting it crash onto her plate with a shattering sound against the tensed silence between them.

“I am moving out, like, next month. I got a place to go to. I pay bills here. What is your problem?”

Dee nudged him. He sighed in reply and Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I did not mean it like that, I-”

Logan cleared his throat as Patton reached out to brush over Roman’s arm. His whole posture was straightening out for the fight already. He was a true knight. Always ready to jump into whatever battle he could feel coming up.

“I will be out of your hair soon. I am gonna be busy working anyway so you won’t see me. Don’t worry. Soon enough it will be like I have never existed in your world at all.”

Something marvellous fell from Roman’s face. For a moment, the gleam of an aspiring prince was gone. Virgil’s words had drawn something essential out of him. He just was not sure what i was but it left him feel.. acutely incomplete.

At the same time, Patton was drawing patterns into Roman’s arm and singing melodies of truth and peace with his thoughtful hums.

“Dee, when did you meet Virgil? I never thought you two would meet, considering you are done with your studies already.”

Dee’s fingers were entangled with Virgil’s under the table and they conversed without words. Nostalgia tuned the sound of her words when she decided to speak up after cleaning her mouth with a napkin.

“We have met about one year ago. It was not quite Christmas, though.”

Patton nodded, a smile prompting her to go on as Virgil pushed his plate away and leaned into his chair instead.

Dee squeezed his hand.

“I met her when I was out. She did not want me walking around all on my own because it was late and I was alone.” He shrugged as if all of these words did not matter. His tongue whipped out vocalisations as if they were the laws every person had to abide to. “She brought me home - someone else was with us because I talked to them and they did not trust each other to be nice to me. We fell asleep together and I got her number. That was about it.”

The giant’s lips rubbed against one another. He was tasting the lies of omission in his mouth and mused the value of his deception. He had a knife like a sword and a fork like scaled of justice in his hands and his strangeness was his blindfold.

“That was quite the coincidence, was it not?”

Virgil shrugged.

“Life has always been full of weird events and unlikely happenings, has it not?”

Logan nodded.

“It sure was.”

They ended their meal on this note. Neither the sustenance nor the conversation really had been worth it.

[comradeocean]

I haven't read Arya x Gendry in like ... 6 years. I caught up a bit this week. Here are some I really like! 

[30 some fic recs after the jump]

post 8x01 Arya keeps looking for reasons to visit Gendry in the forge. - mmh post episode askbox fic

Somewhere to Begin, MissAtomicBomb (mrs_nerimon) The Stark sisters share a moment in the wake of some impactful reunions. - lmao my most frequently used GoT tag was "westeROS" (remember Ros???) followed by "Stark famly dynamics." So Stark sisters hashing things out... my kryptonite

Beautiful & Deadly Sharp, vlaurie17 Learning to fight with a sword were some of Arya's best memories. Sansa, however, was hesitant. “What do I do with it?” “Stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Arya smirked. Sansa just rolled her eyes, “Obviously." - also Stark sisters revisiting being Vengeance-made-girls together and practising to knife someone

I'll sing for you, Ravenclawpride06 Set post 8x1. Gendry wants it bad. Arya wants it worse. Was going to more explicit but I left it vague, felt it fit better in the end. All the pining! - I’m soft for the pining

This is my wish, crazychipmink "As he studied the drawing she had given him, he slowly began to let himself believe that she was real and alive and well. He had thought about Arya so many times that the memory of her was worn in his mind. Fragile and faded, like a piece of parchment that had been read too many times. To tell the truth, sometimes, he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, only that she was the only thing he ever wanted, ever wished for.” - season 8 episode companion fic series - ao3 tag: weapons design processes are long and require many iterations - “Davos assumed he was waiting to play his part in the great war to come, but in reality, Gendry was waiting for the next remarkable thing to happen to him. Perhaps if enough remarkable things happened to him, he would finally let himself believe that the most remarkable thing that had ever happened to him had happened.” wow ok

Who are you waiting for? crazychipmink [incomplete] "She had Arya’s face and Arya’s voice and even Arya’s smile. But despite all that, he felt like he had just spoken to a ghost. An unnatural ghost of Arya, pretending to be the girl he was in love with. Gendry had traveled to the end of the world to find her, but now that he finally had, she was gone." - the angst universe evil twin version of the fic above - we will take it bc we love to suffer - and also bc the author promises "fluff" and "eventual romance" ok sounds real but ok

the thing with feathers, yanak324 If anyone is capable of bringing the old Arya back, it’s this man in front of her, which is precisely why she must walk away. - a more (immediately) optimistic read of how Arya's in episode enactments of being No One might have gone

and in the end, jeeno2 [incomplete] Five times Gendry Waters is an idiot and the one time he figures things out. - Gendry being dumb is kind of a thing and I'm not always the biggest fan of how it plays out in fanon but this is sweet!

 The She-Wolves of Winterfell, vixleonard The pack survived. So has the Stark habit of keeping secrets. - 2nd generation Stark girls. Arya's daughter matter-of-factly saying "Stark women don't get married" - a whole ass mood.

Mid-Battle, Mary_West Sandor has something important to say to Gendry - if only Gendry can live long enough to hear it.

season 8 AU My Lady sanctuary_for_all Gendry and Arya find each other again. (AKA the plotline Gendry deserved in 7X07) - fic convention I am 100% here for: Arya scrabbling around Gendry's face looking for the seam. fic convention I am 100000% here for: Arya throwing off her glove in order to do so and then holding her hands against his cheek

Nights are for You (or Five Times Arya Visits Gendry in the Forge and One Time Gendry Visits Arya in the Castle) ASwornStark She hasn’t visited the forge since Jon returned home with the dragon bitch (the Stark sisters’ favored name for her) and him in tow. - reunion fic

season 7 Before We Jump, MissAtomicBomb (mrs_nerimon) Arya Stark's bastard boys bond on their way to the Wall. - anything for some good rowing references and bastard subjectivity

earlier laughing 'till our ribs get tough (that will never be enough), belasteals "Gendry took one look and laughed so hard that wine came out of his nose, until Harwin gave him a thwack alongside his ear." - A Storm of Swords, Arya IV (or, Gendry's POV on Acorn Hall) - real ones can't get enough of book canon and Acorn Hall.

Butcher, elephant_eyelash Gendry and Arya by the fire, discussing jacket potatoes and thinking murderous things. - perfect meditation on food and hunger and care

Dissimulo, Somnio, jeeno2 She is no one, now. But still the boy with the black hair haunts her dreams. - honestly the showrunners are cowards for not going there. let No One be Vagina Dentata Personified 2kwhenevertheBraavosiseasonsaired

post canon/canon divergent Charcoal, elephant_eyelash All about winter and feeling the cold. - weird how I'm obsessed with self-loathing and wintry alienation and the weight of history and ancestry but also devotion also love. super weird totally unexpected

Five Things Gendry Only Says in the Dark, jeeno2 Where no one else can hear him. - loneliness, shame, self-loathing. the important emotions. oh and spoiler alert some joy.

Like Wenda, Furious_Winter "...she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs." - my favourite canon AUs are Arya and Gendry with the Brotherhood and my absolute favourites of those are when they are apart (who's ever heard of a marauding smith??) but have some of miserable bittersweet understanding and they glower at each other and make each other jealous and everything is unspoken but this is it this singular love they have for each other that doesn't quite work out. I've just realized that most of these recs are highkey angsty oops. anyway, this fic is like the most complete and perfect distillation of everything I want. - also this is so richly detailed and complete in itself. immensely satisfying. - yeah ok Furious_Winter is actually the master of post canon together but not Arya/Gendry love is not always enough fics. I'm just going to recommend all of them: - The Wolf's Head Helm [The Starks are back in Winterfell and Sansa is Queen in the North. One day, Arya receives a gift from an old friend... - Arya is in Sansas's queensguard.]  - A Means To An End (incomplete) [Arya Stark has returned from Essos and has been staying at the Inn at the Crossroads. Things are not nearly as simple as she sees them. - fuck this one hurts so good] - A Bastard At Heart [Arya and Gendry marry other people for the good of the kingdom 'cause they're self sacrificing like that. the last line took me outtt]

the truth is, baby you're all that I need, belasteals “You were jealous,” he laughed, almost shocked. “Arya Stark of Winterfell, jealous of a whore.” - sirens This One Is Not Angsty sirens

A Girl Meets a Boy, Hotpie A girl takes a face; a girl takes a lover. - possibly my favourite Crossroads Inn fic. love the Faceless Man stuff. love the detail of Needle having a smallest spot of rust, from Braavosi Steel Pox and Arya feeling a ways about it. love picking up the Melisandre thread.

So Easy To Love, Val_Creative She misses Gendry's complaining, too enthralled with staring. "You smell like Dennett's underarms," Arya murmurs, leaning in, going for blunt honesty. Gendry opens his mouth, beginning to laugh, turning uproarious and smiling. She's never seen anything more beautiful than this. More kissable than Gendry's mouth. - the summary makes it seem like it's all kissing when there is actually a big chunk of plot - in service of eventual kissing, yes, - but! spoiler alert! they don't even get to it in this fic! not exactly - maybe why I love it a lot??

With Bells in Her Hair, semicolonlife [incomplete] The further south they travel the more Gendry starts to wonder if he truly knows this woman who wears Arya Stark's face. As he begins to doubt himself more and more, Gendry becomes obsessed with the strange bells she wears in her hair. - ruthless slightly wonky Arya is my favourite Arya.

Wayfaring, Rainfallen An accidental series centered on the same basic headcanon of how Gendry found himself in the North and how Arya found her way back to it. - wolf girl Wolf Girl WOLF GIRL

Seen, sanctuary_for_all Being important matters less than who you're important to. - He wasn't sure what that verdict was, however, until she returned the unfinished sword to rest position with a deeply satisfied expression. "I am going to kill so many people with that sword." It was probably a bad sign for his long-term sanity that Gendry felt deeply complimented by that. "Happy to help." my useless heart: pikachu face - see! I like fluffy HEAs too

Hearts, sanctuary_for_all Arya comes home to her family. (Future flash) - look, I just think it's really important that even married and with children, Arya continues murdering people uwu

other AUs/misc I'll Run (Run To You), belasteals “You would rather marry a lowborn knight than a high lord, then?” She grinned, all bared teeth and sharp eyes. “I’d rather marry no one at all, else I'd not play at this mummer’s farce.” “What about the man who outruns you?” “Nobody outruns me.” (Greek mythology fusion: Arya as Atalanta, Gendry as Hippomenes. Arya vows only to marry the man who can outrun her in a footrace) - Atalanta, Mononoke, Arya. same energy.

[emosnakeboy]

Hello again!! 🤗 So I was thinking tiny Roman is unchecked creativity & whatever he thinks about just appears in the mindscape. The others are trying to figure out how to get him to sleep bc that's the only way to get his creations to disappear, unless Roman does it directly. And if you can please include a scene where little Ro is chasing after a little puppy.🐕 I don't know why, it's just a cute image!!! Thank you!❤

Logan gingerly stood up and walked into the living room. Roman and Patton sat where they had been, playing with Lincoln Logs. Logan braced himself and stepped into the mess of the room, but before he took more than two steps, a sharp pain shot up his left leg. The logical trait hissed in pain, lifting up his foot and staring at the ground where it had been. Around his feet were the legos that Roman had been playing with previously. Logan relaxed slightly when he realized the lion meant no harm. Roman must have created him to be kind and gentle. He glanced at Patton, who was also slowly beginning to look less terrified for Roman’s sake. Patton looked towards Logan, and when he saw that Logic was calmed, he took a deep breath and let his shoulders fall to their normal position. The moral trait took a few hesitant steps towards the lion before gently touching its mane. It lifted its head suddenly, turning slowly towards Patton and giving him a sniff before allowing him to continue petting it. Patton’s face lit up, and he turned to Logan with an expression of pure joy.?Patton giggled suddenly, and both Roman and Logan turned to look at him. Patton didn’t shy away from their gazes. Instead, he looked at them brightly and said, “Sorry. You guys are just cute and I love you both a lot.”After all this time I finally finished it.. sorry it took so long!

Warnings: yelling, minor swearing, physical attack, claustrophobiaShips: platonic/familial LAMP/CALM (mostly platonic royality, platonic analogical, platonic logicality with some platonic logince)Word Count: +3.3k

Logan sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. He’d done that a lot already, and he knew he’d do it a lot more. The sounds of endless giggling echoed around him to the point where it was starting to drive him crazy, and Patton was being no help whatsoever.

“Can you please -” Logic started, but his eyes widened suddenly. He darted to the side, narrowly missing the iPad that flew past him. His face curled up into a sour sneer, and he stomped once on the floor. “Patton! Can you please stop encouraging him?”

Patton looked up from the floor. His face was colored in certain places with vibrant colors that shouldn’t be on one’s skin. Several open vats of washable paint sat on the ground around him. His fingers were colored with pinks, greens, blues, purples, and basically most other colors. He wasn’t the only one.

Logan reasoned that it was indirectly Virgil’s fault. The anxious trait was nowhere around, and as his caution tended to balance out Roman’s yearning to bolt every which way possible, the lack of that caution was… a slight problem. With no one keeping Roman in check, the creative trait had regressed into a sort of childish mindset…

… and a childish physical state.

He couldn’t be older than about seven, but were he a normal child and not a facet of Thomas’s personality, he would easily be diagnosed with ADHD. Every time the child wanted something new, it would appear and he would squeal with delight. He would discard whatever other toy or object he had previously taken interest in, usually with a toss over his shoulder. His shirt was entirely too big, his sleeves pushed up his arms so that his tiny little hands could grasp at whatever toys he felt like playing with. Patton, being the, quote-en-quote, “father” that he was, decided that Logan’s attempts to control the child were futile and unimportant. He had instead opted to play with Roman while Logan was left to find a solution.

Logan desperately wished Virgil would come back from… wherever he was.

“Logan, it’s not like I can provide much of a solution,” Patton said, glancing towards the floor. “We both know that. It’ll be better if I can entertain him and keep him out of your way. If I somehow do think of something, I can tell you, but I doubt that I will.”

Logan wanted so badly to tell him he was wrong, but he knew that having Roman distracted would surely be best. Having someone to bounce ideas off of would be productive, but not being distracted would help more.

Logan let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine. I suppose you’re right about keeping him distracted. Thank you.” Patton flashed a sad smile. Logan walked into the kitchen in an attempt to avoid the mess in the living room. He began to think, but the constant giggles erupting from the living room were endlessly distracting. He gave up quickly, deciding that waiting until another trustworthy side could appear to help was the best plan of action.

“This room is a mess,” he hissed through gritted teeth as he came back into the living room. Most of the floor was covered with toys that the creative child had conjured impulsively. Stuffed animals. Toy trains and rockets. A princess costume. A dragon costume. A giant cowboy hat and a lasso. Dolls. A wooden snake. Containers of play-doh. Coloring books and broken crayons. Disney-themed toys. A GameBoy system with an Animal Crossing cartridge. Roman sat in the center of it all, his white jacket stained with paint and ink. He was actively playing with plastic food and a picnic basket.

“This is your toast,” he giggled, pretending to spread jelly onto a plastic piece of bread with red jam. He handed it to Patton, who let out an estatic laugh and pretended to take a bite out of it. Roman smirked as Patton “chewed”, and after Patton swallowed the smirk grew wider.

“Tasty! Thank you, Roman,” Patton exclaimed, glancing at Logan. The twinkle in his eyes told Logan that this was what Patton was meant to be doing. Logan gave a soft smile.

“That was Smuckers jam,” Roman said smugly, his smirk growing. “I get Crofters because I’m the best.” Patton let out a fake gasp. Logan’s gasp was real. He stormed through the piles of stuff on the floor, kneeled down in front of Roman, and picked the child up by the armpits.

“You are not,” the logical trait seethed, “to besmirch the name of Crofters. Crofters is superior, and Patton deserves only the finest of Crofters. How dare you mention any fruit spread other than Crofters?!”

Roman’s face was almost enough to make Logan regret it. Almost. The creative trait looked terrified, his eyes wide and his lip quivering. Logan let out the slightest sigh, about to apologize, when -

“Hah! Gotcha. You thought I was scaaared, you thought I was scaaared.” Roman snickered, grinning brightly. “It’s my job to act, calculator watch. And I did good!”

Logan inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. I might kill him. I might - no, don’t kill him. Just… ignore him. Logan’s lips quirked upward. That will actually piss him off more. Perfect.

Patton giggled suddenly, and both Roman and Logan turned to look at him. Patton didn’t shy away from their gazes. Instead, he looked at them brightly and said, “Sorry. You guys are just cute and I love you both a lot.”

Roman grinned widely and turned to Logan. “Patton said he looooves you,” the child snickered, a devilish glint in his eyes. Logan let out a sigh. Patton giggled once more.

“I can’t understand how you can do anything with this mess,” Logan muttered, standing up and carefully picking his way through the maze of toys towards the couch. Roman snapped his fingers, and the plastic food disappeared and reappeared in the corner. A mass of Little People appeared on the floor in front of him, and he squealed in delight. Logan rolled his eyes. “At least, y’know, delete some of the things you’re done with? I can’t think in settings like these.”

Roman looked horrified. “B-But I’m still playing with it!” he objected, gripping a tiny green alligator tightly in one hand.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “All of it?”

“Yes!”

Logan let out an exasperated sigh. “I doubt that. Delete some of it, now.”

“No!” Roman yelled, throwing the plastic alligator at Logan. It hit the logical trait in the side of the head, and Roman let out a triumphant bark of laughter. Logan stood up again, about to start yelling at the child without remorse, but Roman’s eyes fell onto a tiny plastic lion on the ground. He picked it up, a grin spreading on his face. “Y’know what’d be better than a toy lion?” Logan’s eyes widened with horror as Roman yelled out in excitement, “A real lion!”

“Roman, NO!” Logan and Patton yelled at the same time, both moving forward towards the unchecked creative trait, but it was too late. A single click of Roman’s fingers later, a very real adult male lion sat on the floor amidst the toys. Roman squealed in delight, reaching out towards it. Horror overtook Patton’s face as the lion reached its head towards Roman’s outstretched fingers, but it merely gave them a quick sniff before licking them with a broad pink tongue. Roman giggled happily, reaching up with his other hand and petting its furry mane, which looked far softer than any normal lion mane should.

Logan relaxed slightly when he realized the lion meant no harm. Roman must have created him to be kind and gentle. He glanced at Patton, who was also slowly beginning to look less terrified for Roman’s sake. Patton looked towards Logan, and when he saw that Logic was calmed, he took a deep breath and let his shoulders fall to their normal position. The moral trait took a few hesitant steps towards the lion before gently touching its mane. It lifted its head suddenly, turning slowly towards Patton and giving him a sniff before allowing him to continue petting it. Patton’s face lit up, and he turned to Logan with an expression of pure joy.

“It’s so soft, Lo! Come pet it!” Patton gushed, reaching up to his face with one hand to rub his nose. This could be my only chance to touch a living lion, even if it’s a synthesized one, Logan realized. He gingerly took two steps forward before the lion’s slowly-flicking tail stiffened. Logan froze as the lion turned around, any former gentleness gone from its stature. It began to prowl towards Logan, a menacing look in its eyes. Logan’s expression turned to terror as he stepped backwards across the floor. His foot hit a poofy purple princess dress and slipped, causing Logan to fall flat on his backside, and the sudden movement was enough to make the lion to bound forward. Its mouth opened wide, revealing a horrifying set of pearly white and very sharp teeth, and Logan opened his mouth to scream in terror before Patton let out a loud sneeze. Something in the room audibly clicked, and the lion froze before shrinking down into a stuffed animal. Logan stared at it for a moment, breathing heavily and shaking slightly.

“I forgot, Patton’s allergic to kitties. And lion are cats.” Roman sighed, scratching the back of his head and looking up at Patton sheepishly. “Sorry, pops.”

“Roman!” Logan yelled, his voice much higher than he’d meant it to be. “What the absolute f--” he broke off, remembering that Patton was around, “--frick were you doing to it?! Why did it try to kill me?!!”

Roman shrugged nonchalantly. “Cause I wanted it to.”

Logan’s jaw dropped, but again, before he could begin to yell at Roman, the creative trait snapped his fingers. On the floor in front of the three sides was a small, fuzzy, black and white dog. Logan’s mind blanked on anger as Patton let out a delighted squeal and picked up the miniscule creature, holding it against him tightly. Logan opened his mouth, his eyes on Patton and the dog, and he suddenly wished he could remember exactly what he’d been about to say. Roman, still sitting on the floor, smirked and folded his arms. Logan ignored him as the dog wriggled out of Patton’s grip and bounced to the floor again. It walked over in front of Logan, who braced himself for it to viciously attempt to rip his leg off, but it merely yipped twice and sat down in front of him. Logan hesitantly reached down to touch it, and after sniffing his fingers a few times the dog allowed Logan to scratch it behind the ears. Patton smiled softly, and the dog glanced up at Logan before attempting to bound along the living room floor. It didn’t get far before it stepped on the tiny plastic alligator with a loud yelp of pain, and Roman immediately made an apologetic noise and snapped his fingers. Logan gave a sigh of relief as most of the stuff disappeared from the floor and didn’t reappear in a corner. The dog let out a tiny, happy woof before running around the living room once and bolting into the kitchen. Roman laughed happily, getting up and running after it, and as he followed it back into the living room he caught up to it and grabbed its sides. He lifted the dog up, a huge smile on his face, and the dog licked every inch of his face that it could reach.

The dog took up Roman’s attention without being a giant mess on the entire floor, so Logan was satisfied with its presence. He managed to relax enough to the point of calming down from the lion attack, and after a while Patton came over and sat next to him, though he still watched Roman play with the dog.

However, like all of Roman’s other toys, he got bored with the dog at some point. With a click of his fingers, the dog dematerialized, and Patton let out a noise of protest. “Relax, Pat. It’ll be fine. I put it in your room.”

Patton answered Roman with some words of thanks, but Logan was distracted by the slowly reappearing mess on the floor. Piece by piece, everything that had vanished was coming back, cluttering the living room once more. Logan felt his frustration beginning to pile up, but he forced it back. Roman snapped his fingers, and in front of him appeared a large pile of Legos. He began to build something, but Logan decided not to stick around to find out what it was. He stood up, picked his way through the piles of stuff on the floor, and eventually stood safe in the kitchen. Instead of stressing himself out over looking for a solution to this, he allowed himself to stop and take a breather. The kitchen was clean and void of children. Roman’s entertained giggles were quieter. Logan felt like he could breathe, finally.

The logical trait let out a sigh, leaning against the wall column separating the walkway from the wall between the living room and kitchen. He sank down to the floor, his forehead falling onto his knees. Perhaps I should look into the possibility of having claustrophobia. It seems rather like that is the case, Logan mused, an idea coming to mind suddenly. If I let Patton know this, perhaps he could convince Roman to clean up the mess….

Logan gingerly stood up and walked into the living room. Roman and Patton sat where they had been, playing with Lincoln Logs. Logan braced himself and stepped into the mess of the room, but before he took more than two steps, a sharp pain shot up his left leg. The logical trait hissed in pain, lifting up his foot and staring at the ground where it had been. Around his feet were the legos that Roman had been playing with previously.

Logan’s head snapped upward, his gaze burning into the creative trait’s back. Patton looked away from Roman and up towards Logan, and his face assumed a sympathetic frown. Logan opened his mouth, ready to yell, but Patton’s gaze travelled up and away from Logan to the top of the stairs behind him.

“What the hell happened here?!” Logan turned around carefully and looked up to see Virgil standing at the top of the stairs. His eyes were wide with a mix of shock and horror as he looked out at the sea of toys on the floor.

“Virgil, thank goodness,” Logan said with a sigh, picking his way across the floor to the bottom of the stairs. Virgil met him at the base, and Logan leaned towards his ear and whispered, “I don’t know what happened, why, or how to deal with this. He has it out for me and I don’t understand it at all. He won’t clean it up and I cannot think or breathe because of the mess. Please help.”

Virgil gave Logan a cross between a grin and a grimace before turning towards Roman and Patton. “Roman,” he said firmly, his tone sharp with traces of anger. The creative trait turned around and saw the anxious one standing on the stairs. “Clean it up. Now,” Virgil seethed, his eyes dark and furious. Roman shrank back, his eyes falling to the floor. Virgil raised an eyebrow, and Roman murmured a noise of assent before raising his hand and snapping his fingers. Piece by piece, everything slowly disappeared into nothingness until the floor was completely cleared.

Once the floor was clean and pristine again, Virgil walked over to where Roman sat. The creative trait looked up, his eyes wide with fear. When Virgil spoke, his tone was smooth but laced with anger.

“Logan says you’ve been incredibly rude to him.”

Roman’s eyes flickered to Logan before meeting Virgil’s gaze again. “I’m sorry -”

“I’m not the one who needs an apology. What gives you the right to abuse Logan’s comfort like that? Knowing him, he told you multiple times that the mess was bothering him, and you decided to ignore him. What the hell makes that okay?!”

Roman didn’t answer. He looked towards the ground in shame, his mouth remaining shut.

“I’m waiting,” Virgil hissed, folding his arms.

Roman looked up, his eyes glistening with regret. “N-Nothing.”

“Nothing makes that okay. You should know that. You might not be the brightest, but Roman, you’re not stupid. You’re not helpless. You know that -”

Virgil continued scolding Roman, but Logan lost track of what he was saying as he noticed Roman’s appearance literally changing before their eyes. His limbs began growing longer, his shoulders broadened, his torso stretched out, and his facial features began to sharpen. His gaze remained on Virgil the entire time, seemingly oblivious to his own appearance shifting. When Virgil finally concluded his yelling, Roman looked just as old as the rest of them. His paint-stained shirt fit once more, but his pants were nowhere to be found.

“Apologize to Logan, immediately,” Virgil ordered coldly.

Roman stood up, his eyes moving to Logan. He inhaled and said quietly, “I’m sorry, Logan. I was acting out and I did some awful things to you. You didn’t deserve it, and I shouldn’t have done that. I hope you can forgive me, especially for the lion -”

“What lion?” Virgil asked sharply, his eyes narrowed but bright with fear.

“I - erm - may have sent a lion after Logan -”

“You WHAT?!”

“I survived because of Patton’s allergies. It happens from time to time, Virgil,” Logan said quickly as the anxious trait opened his mouth to yell at Roman once again. Roman grinned sheepishly, but his expression fell as Logan turned towards him. “I can’t forgive you immediately, as you did attempt to kill me and you succeeded in hurting me in other ways, but…” he sighed, “I can forgive you with time and when I have a reason to.”

Roman gave a half smile, looking down. He spotted his own lack of pants and grinned before snapping his fingers. The colorful stains on his shirt vanished, and his white pants appeared on his legs at once.

Patton giggled lightly, standing up off the ground behind Roman. “Gee Virge, you’re almost like a dad yourself. I’m proud of you, kiddo. Now sit tight, I’m gonna make us all some food. Good to have it all back to normal.” Patton disappeared into the kitchen. The other three sides exchanged a glance.

“What happened to you? Where were you that caused Roman to change like that?” Logan asked Virgil a few moments later. The two sat on the couch as Patton worked in the kitchen. Roman had disappeared upstairs.

Virgil shrugged. “Sleeping. I wanted to give Thomas some time without me bugging him. Guess I shouldn’t do that, or Roman gets all… nuts.”

Logan nodded. “True. We know that it is necessary to have some anxiety, or bad things tend to happen. Such as Roman getting out of control.”

Virgil looked down, a soft smile on his face. Logan couldn’t help but smile slightly too.

Something upstairs let out a loud bark. Virgil looked up towards it before looking over at Logan. “Patton’s room is barking, by the way. That’s what woke me up.”

Logan laughed. “Yes, there’s a dog in there.”

“My puppy! DADDY’S COMING FOR YOU, SWEETIE!” Patton yelled, charging out of the kitchen, through the living room, and upstairs. Logan and Virgil exchanged a glance as they heard Patton’s door open, then close.

“Someone should watch the stove while he’s up there,” Logan said pleasantly, standing up. Virgil nodded, waving his hand, as if to say go on, do your thing.

Things were back to normal.

Bonus! For waiting so long I decided that you deserve to see a little something extra...

I drew a tiny Romano for you! It looks kind of really bad but eh *shrugs* I tried. I hope you enjoyed the oneshot! Thank you for requesting and again I’m sorry for how long it took me to finish this

[wheezyboykaspbrak]

could it be lemon?

i wrote a fic on ao3 and i finished it so i thought i would post it up here but uhhh i will also post the ao3 link bc it’s probably easier to read up there

words -> 7,914 (i keep wanting to add another word bc this isn’t a pretty number)

pairing -> eddie/richie BUT stan/mike for the 3rd chapter as bg cuties

it’s dated in 93′-94′ bc i mentioned a medicine being fda approved or w/e

ao3 link

here we go Bois sorry if it ain’t gr8 i haven’t written smth that wasn’t poetry or essays for idk a few years

Richie thought about Eddie a bit too much in class- so much so, that he was beginning to worry himself. Once he started fantasizing about dark brown eyes, bruised shins, pink shirts, scabbed yet clean, covered elbows- he knew he was going to be in for an unproductive class. But god, what did Mendel even do for the world that could compare to the effect that Eddie had on Richie’s life? Biology had no priority over the pretty boy Richie held so fondly in his heart.

Yes, the pretty boy, who wore sometimes overalls, and sometimes short baby blue shorts. Who had eyelashes that would knock brick houses down in less than a second, and had lips that shined with what Richie could only assume were the balms of pure bliss (probably lip smackers- lemon, if he had to guess; but he wanted to know). A pretty boy who looked very, very different to the dirty boy that Richie knew he was.

Richie didn't wear the powdered blues and bubblegum pinks that Eddie would flounce around in. He wore gray, red, and black instead- as cut off shorts and ripped jeans, bruises always peeking through the holes of the knees. Instead of the soft brown waves that Eddie had, Richie had thick ringlets in his almost black hair that were all tangled together; like girthy, inky roots of old and dying trees. His shoes were not held together by velcro, nor were they regularly cleaned by a boy a bit too high maintenance for his own good. Richie’s laugh was not as bright, his hands were not as soft, his skin was not as warm-

But just because they were so different didn't stop Richie from so desperately going after Eddie, and all he had to offer.

After the class bell blared, and he wiped at the warmness in his cheeks, he found himself on a mission. He usually didn't cross paths with Eddie after this class had ended, but he had fawned particularly hard over the boy this go around and he needed to actually feel him. He needed to press his chapped lips against a freckled cheek and ruffle the hairs that danced around his ears. Ears that would sometimes have pencils shoved behind them, ears that burned bright red when he was frustrated and also when he was cold. Ears that would listen to Richie’s joke, a nose that would crinkle in disgust and amusement, lips that would purse and spout- a full Eddie that would give him attention and drag him down into another pit of what seemed like unrequited hell.

But in actuality he was an Eddie who loved him just as much as Richie loved, but wasn't sure how to say it. Especially as he watched the now jogging gangly boy trying to endearingly catch up to him before his next class.

His words, Eddies, always seemed to get stuck in his windpipe. But he couldn't help it all that much. The same way that Richie thought of Eddie, Eddie dreamily thought of the dirty boy himself.

The dirty boy, yeah. The one with boots that came halfway up his scarred and cigarette burned calves. With a smile so big and beautiful that it could replace the face on the moon. With glasses thick enough to amplify the sparkle and crinkle and small twinkle in his eyes, which Eddie would find himself getting lost in without much of a reason to. The dirty boy who smelled like bad cologne and arcades and menthols- the boy who somehow always managed to take Eddie’s breath away (if only for a moment).

Richie managed to get to Eddie from across the hall, his long- long, long, long- arm wrapping around the smaller set of shoulders on the duo, pale fingers squeezing into Eddie’s bicep. The long awaited peck Richie was previously drooling over was given, but instead of the cheek he just barely reached for Eddie’s temple- planting a sloppy one right on the smoothed surface of his forehead. His nose brushed against the hair that framed the pretty boy’s forehead and he took a discreet sniff, to remember for later.

Strawberry. It was always strawberry, and it was so, distinctly Eddie at this point. He still wanted to get to know what he assumed was lemon, but Richie would always take what he could get with Eddie. And Eddie would do the same.

Every touch that Richie gave felt like it burned- but Eddie loved it. It burned like the pleasant rays of the sun and lingered like freckles or a nasty sunburn. He loved when he could feel the slight spasm of Richie’s arm or hand against his back. Like a rabbit jumped over Richie’s grave, just to help remind Eddie that the boy was still there. Or, especially, when he could feel the light exhale of breath just after his soft yet sparse face kisses. This time around there was no exhale, but there was a warm patch that seemed to spread across Eddie’s face. It felt like a gift, but he wasn't sure for what, or if he particularly deserved it.

A present it was, for sure, but a curse it felt like it could be as well. He couldn’t react as he wanted- as he needed to, by melting into Richie’s side and looking up into brown eyes much more inky than his own. Especially in the hall, in public, Eddie immediately knew he had to act disgusted. His nose did the crinkle that Richie loved so, so much, and his hands went up to Richie’s chin, to pinch and push him away. There was a light popping sound when the wet kiss had been detached that the pretty boy felt in his quick beating heart.

"Wow, gross. Did you really haul your flat ass here to give me some other girls mono? I am touched-“ he looked at the hand that still was tightly wrapped around his arm, “in more ways than one- but I think I already got it from your sister, so there's no point in trying to infect me now." Eddie scoffed, releasing the grip he had on Richie’s chin- but not before giving it a squeeze. A squeeze that made Richie’s chin sore but his breath flutter.

"The special lady I got it from was your mother, so hell Eddiebear, you probably infected your mom yourself! I see the way you kiss her on the cheek, you oedipal complex motherfu-"

"Hey, hey Richie?" Eddie’s voice interrupted him before he could finish speaking. his tone was softer than what he had expected to come out of the pretty boy’s mouth- it almost shocked him, making him go quiet. Richie’s grip on eddies arm loosened and slid down to be closer to the crevice of his elbow, taking his time to look down at Eddie. He witnessed Eddie’s lip twitch, his brows becoming furrowed- and Richie just knew he had to take him seriously, if only for a second.

"Yeah, Eddie, what's up?"

"I just wanted to make a suggestion to you,” he let out a soft exhale before reaching to the hand that was still cradling his arm. He began to slowly pry the fingers off one by one, before pinching Richie's pinkie in between two sharp nails, “learn how to shut the fuck up- beep beep, if you will. My mom doesn't have mono, especially not from me, you sick fuck. Now go to class, because the fact that you’re here and not halfway across the building by now is tragic in regards to your dwindling focus on your education."

Richie clenched his teeth at the pinch before yanking his hand away, giving it a shake. He grimaced, making that beautiful, expressive face all the more froggy, before cracking a smile and letting out a small laugh that came from deep within in his chest.

“Wow, kinky, Kaspbrak! And yet so caring. Maybe next time we get this rough, I can give you a safe word. And maybe next time, I’ll let you graze my voluptuous tits instead.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, rolled them hard, before giving Richie a push to the direction of his class. Just in the middle of his back is where his hand had rested for just a second too long, and he was able to feel the curves in Richie’s spine beneath his layered shirts. He wanted to follow the curve up, follow the curve down- down, down, down?- but he yanked his hand away so that he could properly dismiss the other before they were both going to be horribly late to class.

“In your dreams, Tozier. How about you start actually washing your shirts after you wear them five times, and then we’ll talk about your tits. Now, shoo.”

And with that, they went, both heads swimming and skin warmed by the others obvious yet unnoticed affections.

It almost seemed hopeless, Richie would countlessly think to himself, to try and lasso Eddie in. As if he would give in to Richie’s constant affections- as if Eddie was actually gay, or liked anyone or anything at all for that matter. Could it really be so fruitless? He hoped not, but it nagged at him- it made him tug at his own curls as the thought constantly tickled intrusively in the corners of his mind.

Self-doubt continued to stew throughout him during the day, and with it he began to assume. He assumed that Eddies cheeks, where the rays had given soft kisses and left small love marks, only really turned red from frustration whenever Richie was around. He assumed that the longing and lasting looks, from eyes that reminded him of the big and glossy pebbles they would skip across the quarry, were only in response to every rotten thing that Richie had ever done, suddenly playing back in the pretty boy’s mind with scorn. He assumed that Eddie didn't love him, never could, that he never would. But he also knows what assuming does, and he's been an ass since the dawn of time; for nearly too long.

Richie decided class was pointless a long time ago, but it felt like it was especially today. Richie knew that he wasn't going to be listening to the droning that fuzzily overtook the silence that would otherwise be filling the room (unless the students left a quiet roar). There were better things to mull over, easier things to imagine and picture in his mind beyond the graphs that his teacher would have displayed against a chalkboard later anyway. He began to dream of what he assumed would be a sweet, bitter, smooth kiss. A kiss he thinks hasn’t even come close to, yet a kiss he’s come closer to than he knows. His hands seemed to linger to his lips throughout the day, squeezed and puckered between his fingers occasionally. And like the flick of a lighter, a warming, pleasant thought suddenly breeched into his mind, crawling in his stomach; and he briefly wondered if Eddie would be a biter. Eddie had a quick wit, and a fight response just as or more potent than his flight. He was almost sure Eddie was a biter now, and it was such a heavenly thought to hold on to.

It wasn't until lunch, which he arrived late to, that his head reached back to rest at his shoulders from their journey in space- only just so he could look at the beautiful boy to his left, that being Eddie Kaspbrak himself. It was the third time he had saw him today, but damn, if it isn't three times a charm to help one learn how desperately in love they actually were.

Richie wasn't eating anything today- he dined on a pleasant dish of two cigarettes from earlier and the inside skin of his cheek. Eddie however was eating celery, and even offered Richie some (as he noticed Richie wasn’t eating, he always noticed), but he declined. Richie claimed he didn’t like the stringiness of it, and would occasionally take a jab and say an ‘I told you so!’ anytime he saw Eddie frustratingly trying to pick at his teeth- teeth that Richie had pictured earlier eagerly gnawing at his lips, instead of the bastardly stalks.

Richie noticed Eddie would wipe his hands between each piece, oddly rolling the napkin in between his fingertips. Delicately, Richie found the action to be synonymous with the word, although he wouldn’t admit to it- he knew the pretty boy thought of the word with some aversion. But he also found it to be an endearing ritual, that he had never really commented on.

"So, Eds, are you planning on rubbing my blossoming boobies like that later? If so, we are gonna have a problem, you know how I like it rough. I’m sure you’ve heard your mom and I- my screams were ones of pleasure, I assure you, Eddie my love!" he winked, before leaning across the table towards Stan and nudging him with his elbow, “’Cause momma Sonia really knows how to whip it, doesn’t she boys?”

Whoops, make it never minus today. He of course made it a joke, but the thought of Eddie’s hands on his bare skin made his boot clad feet turn inward. The thought of the pretty boy in his pastel tops and half calf socks, butterfly clips holding his bangs back, sitting on Richie’s lap and fiddling with the skin of his chest- it made stomach clench. Eddie's clear coated nails making angry marks down the dirty boy’s side, his balmy lips leaving smears along Richie’s jaw- his breath stuttered on an exhale as he dug his dirty nails into his palm, inwardly cursing his overactive imagination, especially in front of his friends. He felt as if he had broken out into a sweat; he hoped he didn’t look it.

Eddie made a disgusted face as he open mouth chewed on his celery, setting his napkin back down onto his lap. Richie glanced down at it after it had fallen; it landed against lightly tanned thighs, Eddie’s shorts riding halfway up in a way that made the dirty boys palms even more sweaty. Richie dreamily thought about tracing the flat moles that decorated Eddie frequently, especially the ones littered on his thighs, but he turned his attention back to eddies mouth the moment he began to speak again.

"-like Jesus Christ, Richie, I’m eating. In fact, everyone here except you is eating. No one wants that image invading their thoughts, especially ME. Try being a little bit more considerate the next time you try being a complete trashmouth." Eddie swallowed the bit of celery he had in his mouth before sealing the sandwich bag that held them. He glanced at his watch, and then at the door, biting his lip before turning his attention back to the group. Richie noticed, glancing to the door himself with a small movement, but he was interrupted by Stan before he could say anything about it.

"Honestly, Richie, shut up. No one wants to think of your nonexistent ass getting flogged by a middle-aged woman, especially in a place as holy as the Kaspbrak residence." Stan bit back at Richie, and Eddie gestured to Stan with his hand holding the bag, haphazardly slinging it around. He looked as though he was briefly considering smacking Richie with what was left of his vegetables, but decided against it.

"See, look, at least two people at this table are done with the garbage pouring from behind your goofy ass grin. Here," Eddie took the napkin from his lap and pushed it into Richie’s hand, patting the arm that trailed up from it, "use this to wipe the bullshit that is somehow constantly spewing from your mouth. You're going to need it if you plan on saying literally anything else today."

With that he grabbed his backpack off the floor and shoved the rest of his celery in there, straightening out the collar of his t-shirt before waving off at Bill and Stan. For Richie, he gave him a small pat on a leathered shoulder, his fingers brushing against the tangled curls.

"Bye, losers, like I said earlier I have an appointment today. Tell the kid who, most likely, decisively coughs in my direction in sixth not to miss me too hard. I know I won't be the one crying about it later." His hand was so warm, even through Richie’s layers-

And then he squeezed. He squeezed Richie’s shoulder and it made him feel so grounded, yet it was also dizzying. He didn’t say a farewell in response, instead Richie started to move his hand up to cover the pretty boys; but it was gone before he could reach it. He just settled on pulling out his lighter from his breast pocket, since it looked like he was going for it anyway, before shoving it back in awkwardly.

He hardly noticed Bill starting to talk to him.

"-abandoned lot duh-downtown. You i-interested?”

Richie snapped back down to Earth and rubbed at his eyes from behind his glasses, looking to Stan for a bit more clarification as he began to speak, following along with Bill.

"Not too keen on the idea myself, but I know Mike will be there. I think he found a way to get fireworks here, into Maine.” Stan paused, before leaning forward a bit from the cafeteria bench, “Ben is going to bring bud, if that compels you even more to join. Although I will forever prefer you didn’t, it would be dickish of us to offer any less."

"I've always been interested in checking that place out, but now the deal is sealed and it couldn't be any sweeter. Fireworks? Bud with buds? Y'all really know how to make a sweet girl like me cry." Richie fake sniffled before pursing his lips, "Did you invite Eddie?” he squeezed the napkin in his hands, mimicking the way the other had rolled his fingertips before, this time under the table.

“Y-Yeah, of course we did. duh-didn’t you hear him? He- he’s going to an appointment, s-so he’ll probably drop buh-by later if he can escape the i-iron curtain that is his muh-mother. What, was your mind t-t-too focused on the pulsing of your baby dick every t-time he ‘caressed’ you that you couldn’t bring yourself to lis-listen to him?” Bill teased, before continuing, “Just j-joking- but we did talk about it buh-before you got here and he d-did say he would try.”

“Hilarious as always, Denbrough- but I'm glad to know you kept the spaghetti boy in your hearts.” He quickly shoved the napkin from Eddie into his left pocket before giving Bill a wink and running a now free hand smoothly down his own chest, “Also, baby dick who? Y’all know I’m packing a meter-long King Kong dong, don’t play yourselves!” The bell rang just as Richie had finished his sentence, and they all collectively stood, hovering around the table to wrap up their conversation.

“Pfft, shut up, Richie. So, we will see you tonight?” Stan asked while straightening out his backpack, situating it on his shoulders.

“You bet your kosher ass you’ll be seeing me tonight, Stanley!” and he dreamily hoped that he would be seeing Eddie tonight as well. He was already picturing his face lighting up from the fireworks, looking up from the ground- whether he be laying down, sitting, on his knees; he would look perfect, and if there was even a chance Eddie would be there, Richie wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Eddie spent the next few hours in the pediatrician’s office, fiddling with the sparse napkin used to cover the patient bench. He never understood why it took two hours to do an asthma appointment, but he feels like it would be more bearable if he had better company. He glanced at his mother in the chair across the room, beginning to doze off, and he briefly pictured the one and only dirty boy there, taking her spot. He loves his mother, he really does, but when it comes to being trapped in a room with someone, while he hated to admit it, Richie was far better company than Sonia or none at all.

He rolled his peak flow meter around in his hands, shaking it to hear it rattle, before there was a knock on the door. His mom stirred, but didn't wake, and the doctor walked in. Her smile was sweet, and her eyes crinkled the same way Richie’s did- all while also hiding behind thick frames. She wrote down a prescription for Eddie to get refills, and briefly mentioned a new medicine called Salmeterol. It was approved by the FDA this year, apparently, and would eventually replace the need for a rescue inhaler. Eddie bit his lip and glanced at his sleeping mother before back at the pediatrician, shaking his head no and giving her his own small smile. He didn’t want another medicine under his belt- or rather, shoved in his fanny pack, because he knew it was all fake anyway. What’s the point in feeding more lies?

He already knew that he didn't really need his inhaler, but he had grown so dependent on it. The thought of getting a new one and his somewhat of a placebo addiction getting worse scared him. He grabbed his one and only prescription slip before going to the chair his mother was in and briefly giving her a small shake. She woke up, with a start, before smiling at the prescription that was in Eddie’s hand and beginning to stand.

The ride to the pharmacy was quiet, but the ride back to the house was when Eddie tried to bring up a question he'd been meaning to ask in the office; albeit nervously.

"Mommy," he started, fiddling with the hem of his shorts, "is it okay if I go out with my friends tonight? We were going to go to Ben’s house, to study old maps together." it wasn't the best scenario, but he tried to make it sound at least a bit different from his other lies- before his mother could catch on to the repetition.

Her hands on the steering wheel tightened, and she looked over to briefly glance at Eddie up and down, before bringing her eyes back to the road. "Alright, but!" Eddie looked down at his thighs, waiting for the conditions, simultaneously happy and filled with apprehension, "I don’t want you out too late, young man. If you're out past 11 o'clock, you're going to be in trouble and make mommy real mad. understood?"

Eddie gave a curt nod, releasing his shorts. It seemed his mother wasn't satisfied with his response.

"Am I understood?" she repeated, raising her voice a bit.

"Sorry, yes, mommy- ma'am." Eddie said, clearly, raising his head to look at his mother’s profile.

At least he had her approval- that was a step in the right direction. Although he wished he didn’t have to ask for it, for the simplest of things, he also wished that he didn’t have to lie to her in order to obtain it.

When he arrived home, he did his best to get ready. He didn't change much of his outfit, but he did manage to switch his socks, from half calf to knee highs, for the chillier night they were expecting in Derry. He then set his watch for 10:30pm and shoved his medicines into his bright, yellow fanny pack, later reaching in between his mattress to pull out his spare lighter. Almost everyone in the loser’s club had a lighter, but he would be damned if this was the one day everyone somehow forgot theirs-

Richie though, he knew would never forget his. Eddie tried not lie to himself too much anymore, but it was still hard to admit that he actually loved when Richie smoked around him. He found the smell welcoming on Richie’s clothes, in his hair. It followed him, and while he wished Richie would stop, he knew that it was a beloved part of the dirty boy’s familiarity. Eddie found it cute when Richie would have cigarettes shoved behind his ears in place of the pencils that Eddie would usually have. He wanted to touch the cigarette burns on his legs, kiss his thumbs every time he managed to touch the hot metal of the lighter- and sometimes he wanted to grab the cigarette from Richie’s lips and stomp it out, just so Eddie could replace it with his own lips if only for a brief moment.

He shoved his lighter in his pockets before checking his watch. It was 5:00pm, and the sun was beginning to noticeably set. He walked down his steps quietly before walking over to his mother in the kitchen and giving her a brief kiss on the cheek, waving her off after grabbing his beige sweater hanging from the hat tree and walking to the porch. Once he was out, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, reaching for the front pocket of his fanny pack to reapply his chapstick- a rundown tube of lip smackers, with a faded label and bite marks on the cap from the use.

Instead of walking he decided to bike, finding his bicycle nestled against the side of his house. He grabbed it by the handlebars and yanked it out, before beginning to peddle to where he was told the abandoned lot was.

On his way there, he began to think. He thought about the times that Richie and him would share bikes and bike rides, Eddie usually being the one to squeeze himself onto Richie’s bike seat with Richie barely on the tip (no matter how dangerous it was). It's been awhile since the last time, but he remembers the moments fondly. They had only fallen off a few times out of what must've been hundreds of rides, but the scabbed knees and crushed medicine bottles were sometimes worth it when it meant being so close to someone you trusted so dearly.

He arrived at the lot in about ten minutes, and the only other person there so far was Mike. He had a box in the basket of his bike, replacing the meats that were usually shoved in there, but it looked clunky and as if it would fall to the ground any minute. He waved at Eddie when he pulled up, and Eddie grinned before getting off his bike and waving back. He went over to Mike and started to mock tap the box, standing off to its side to speak.

"Wow Mike, where the hell did you get these?" he already knew the box contained the fireworks, even in its nondescript packaging.

"New Hampshire! My old man and I went down there to check up on buying a few bales of hay for real cheap, and we stumbled across a tent with tables just stacked with these things on the way back! Let's hope they work, right?" Mike laughed, warmly, taking the box out of the basket and setting it down on the ground, crossing his legs as he sat on the ground behind it. The setting sun framed him beautifully, as he began to fiddle through the now open box of fireworks with mild interest. For being one of the strongest of the group, he seemed to handle things with such a delicacy and grace- comparable to if not even more so than Eddie’s own mannerisms (especially more so, when it came to grace).

Eddie was slightly nervous about the fireworks, but he pushed the small anxieties down in favor of a good time (but not before groping the front of his fanny pack, as habit). He kneeled and sat beside Mike, as they continued to talk about how clear the night was, perfect for seeing every little spark. Eddie himself even picked up a few of the pieces, grinning to Mike and holding one of the bigger rockets to the other boys forearm to compare the length. Mike did the same, but he would pick up something small- like a smoke bomb- and then hold it up to Eddie’s head, them laughing together between small shoves. Eventually, they had stopped talking and messing around when they heard more bicycles coming up behind them, turning their heads back to look and see who was approaching.

At first they just saw Ben and Bill, but then they saw Stan and Richie trailing behind them. Mike and Eddie both waved to the four of them, yelling out their greetings before getting up. Eddie dusted off his knees, while Mike dusted off the backs of his jeans, leaving the box and its contents on the dirt.

All the losers, once they had reached the two boys, glanced at the slightly opened box on the ground with lit up eyes, a whistle and a hand clap coming out of Richie. But, before Mike could turn back around to start rummaging and grabbing a rocket to start the lightshow, Bill raised a hand and gestured to Ben, who had a messenger bag slung over his shoulders and was fiddling with the flaps of the front pocket (supposedly with the stash).

"We are all excited for the fuh-fireworks, but it's probably best if we l-light something else up, fir-first." he grinned, and everyone collectively nodded. It was around 6:00pm at this point, and dark enough for them to get huddled around in a corner and start to roll.

Ben knew how to roll the best, but Richie always insisted that he try. Eddie and Stan would always roll their eyes at him when he attempted to 'pearl' it, only to have something ragged and uneven looking come out. Usually someone (Ben) would be getting the second ready right then, instead of later, and Richie would scoff jokingly and cross his arms across his chest with a grin. He would mumble, something along the lines of 'a blunts a blunt, right?', before shoving it into the hands of someone else. He usually gave it to Stan first, but this time he lit it himself, taking a few short puffs and exhaling up while the others talked to their friends beside them. The way Richie pursed his lips and tilted his head with so much fluidity made Eddie’s face warm, and the smile that he was given when the blunt was passed to him seemed to only make it worse.

He took a small inhale, and then another, holding it in and burning the back of his throat. Eddie coughed while his eyes watered, before passing the blunt to Mike with a sniffle. Richie laughed and rubbed near Eddies shoulder blade, and Eddie suddenly remembered how close they were, his sock clad knees bumping with the others beside him. He wiped at one of his own eyes and looked over at Richie, grimacing at him and doing a small shrug of his shoulder at an attempt to shake off the hand (but it was noncommittal).

"I hope none of you guys are sick, because god knows I don't want to catch whatever's crawling in your loser mouths." Eddie said, and Mike laughed and coughed simultaneously beside him, passing to Stan. If Richie were to pry his eyes off of Eddie, he would've seen Mike and Stan brush hands- with both of their faces tinting red. But Richie was a bit too preoccupied at this point, looking at those glossy pebble eyes again that stared at him, expecting for the quip back.

"Trust me, Eddie bear, there's probably something way worse crawling in that mouth of yours than any of ours." Richie mumbled, moving his hand down Eddies back. He tickled against the pretty boy’s spine through his shirt, tracing it before moving to the divots of his ribs. His sweater was moderately thick, but he could still feel it like bumps in a road.

"And what are you implying, fuckwad?"

"The only person I’m imp lying with is your mom- surprise surprise, I’m just a lil devil in bed."

"Wow, gross. I already knew you lived without basic human decency, but I didn’t think you would admit to being a demon. Regardless of your honesty, I still think you should shut that loser trap of yours.”

Eventually the blunt made its way back to Richie, and he took a couple puffs again, but this time he exhaled onto Eddie’s face. He laughed at the way the pretty boys face scrunched up and he batted the stale smoke away, thick eyelashes fluttering to prevent drying eyes.

“Rude.” Eddie mumbled, as he took the blunt away from Richie, only getting one hit in before passing it to Mike once again. It was beginning to reach their fingertips at this point, and Eddie was beginning to feel a bit lightheaded. He ended up leaning against Mike for a moment, with no protest from the other, before being tugged over to fall against Richie.

Eddie didn’t react too much, but Richie’s leg was visibly shaking from his own boldness. His hand was now resting on the crook of Eddie’s elbow instead of his back, where he was giving gentle squeezes. He was sure Mike didn’t mind having Eddie ripped off of him, he seemed too infatuated with the way Stan gently held what remained of the blunt between two finger tips, but Richie felt all too jealous in the moment and brash in the afterthought. That’s just something he would have to work on, himself.

Richie continued to rub his arm, sometimes going all the way down to his wrist, just feeling his skin and his warmth with the contrast of the brisk Derry air. When his hand was on his wrist he would sometimes slide the beige sweater wrapped around him up, feeling along the veins in his arm and the slow- yet oddly, sometimes stuttering- beating of the smaller boy’s heart. He wanted to feel the pulse on his lips, when he would kiss from his knuckles and up. Richie just wanted to be so goddamn tender with the boy, feel the way the skin covering his ribs would shift as he calmly breathed when he would hold him. He wanted to bury his nose and kiss his seemingly always fruity smelling scalp, with his hands holding his soft jaw. He just wanted to love him, and he felt it especially with the Eddie that he saw now, so calm and yet looking so frazzled, eyes red and usually perfectly parted hair curling up and reaching towards the stars.

It seems the second blunt was lit while he was musing over the boy, and it had managed to make its way back to Richie again. He almost didn’t notice, too preoccupied in the oddly dazed boy wrapped under his arm, but he gladly took a toke before bringing the blunt to Eddie’s lips. He almost rejected, doing a small shake of his head, before shrugging and mumbling a ‘fuck it’, leaning forward and lightly wrapping his lips near where Richie’s fingers rested. Richie felt the faint brush of lips before Eddie pulled away, coughing on another exhale and slinking forward. It lasted for one more rotation before mike started to stand, slumping over to the box with a small smile.

“Alright, you guys,” he nearly yelled, bringing his hands together in a loud clap, “I think it’s a good a time as any. Let’s get it.” he starts small, and throws a box of sparklers onto the ground in front of the other losers, before pulling out one ample sized rocket.

“Wow, that’s almost as big as my dick…” Richie said, astonished, pulling Eddie tighter and closer to his side once he felt the other start to groan and pull away.

“Are you talking about the fuse? Good to know you’re at least three inches, I’m sure it makes the ladies swoon as soon as you drop your pants.” Stan murmured, earning a laugh and a slap on the knee from both Eddie and Ben, while Bill was too busy spacing out and fumbling with his frayed aglets.

Mike barely heard them, zoning out himself with his tongue prodding between his lips as he attempted to set up the place to light the thing. The other losers began to open the box of sparklers, Richie managing to grab one for both him and Eddie and placing it (unlit) into the hand that Richie was not messing with/cradling. Eddie felt around in his pocket for his own sunshine yellow lighter, a small lemon drawn on the front of it, before clumsily trying to light the sparkler.

He succeeded in doing so, and wielded it away from him, looking at the way it popped as he twiddled it around in a circle, before the other losers used his sparkler to quickly light their own. Mike figured that he had put enough space between the first rocket and the band of his friends, so he pulled out a box of matches and quickly gave a thumbs up to the others, before lighting it and running back to the huddled sitting circle. Mike didn’t sit back down with the others, just squatting, ready to run up and light another just as soon as this one faded.

With the sparklers in their hands and the beautiful dispersal of the lights in the sky, the losers all looked on and made small noises in awe. Stan looked at Mike, dropping his sparkler into the dirt before standing and speaking, “Hey, can I go do one with you this time?” he asked, wobbling a bit on his knees. He kept on looking at Mike, and saw the way that the sparks would reflect in his dark eyes, mimicking the sky itself. It seemed like Richie and Eddie weren’t the only ones completely infatuated with each other.

Mike turned to face Stan and laughed, going over to put a hand on Stan’s shoulder, nodding, “Yeah! Let’s go ahead and do one, right now, since the other one’s already so far gone by now.” and so he tugged him along, taking him over to the box as they pulled out one of the more girthier ones- they weren’t completely sure what any of them would do until lit, but this one didn’t see like a rocket to either of them.

While they tried figuring out on how to use the damned firework, Eddie looked up at Richie with a glazed look on his face. He didn’t smoke often, but he knew that he was a lightweight without much experience. He was beginning to have small moments of fading in and out, where he was remembering very little and just tried remaining calm and collected on the dirt. It was surprisingly pleasant, as if he was just dozing on and off, but it did make his heart skip with short-lived anxiety when he wasn’t at least half focused on something else. After his sparkler had gone out, and there was a brief interlude between the display, he chose to focus on how Richie would look on- at everything and at absolutely nothing- with such a dreamy look in his eye. His brows would raise, and his mouth would quirk, and Eddie thought that he just looked so damn pretty in the moment. Pretty in a way that he felt that he himself could never be.

When the next firework went off, it was one of the ones that stayed on the ground- but it’s effect was breath taking. It had managed to grab Eddie’s attention once again, but about half way through Richie managed to glance at Eddie…and he saw exactly what he wanted to from before.

He saw Eddie’s mouth slightly agape, while the lights lit up his face and shone on the balm coating his lips. He saw his brown eyes, although lidded, flecked with golds and reds, reminding him of amber. He saw a beautiful boy, sitting, look on in awe at something Richie saw every day, that being a phenomenal burst of light and ball of fire- that being the embodiment of Eddie Kaspbrak in Richie’s mind.

His sparkler was abandoned, and his free hand went and grabbed Eddie’s jaw…but Eddie’s reaction time seemed a little too slow for Richie’s liking, for the kiss he was so hopelessly planning. Instead he just slipped his hand down from his jaw to his shoulder, and gave him a small hug. Eddie seemed a bit perplexed, but he returned the hug the best he could- and while doing so, turning himself more so that he was closer to Richie. While the other losers chattered away, Eddie managed to actually fall asleep, finding almost too much comfort in the others hold.

He was woken up by Richie an hour and a half later when his watch was beginning to beep, signaling that he had to start heading home.

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered, untangling himself from the now one arm that was around him instead of the two that encompassed him earlier. He looked over at the other losers, who at some point had laid down in a line in front of Eddie and Richie, while making a slow attempt at standing. “Wow, sorry I fell asleep-“

“It’s fine,” Ben mumbled out, breaking from his concentration on the stars, looking over his head and up to the small boy shifting behind him, “but we were all sort of surprised. The rockets got a little loud at times!”

“Yeah, no, I don’t know how the fuck it happened. I’m just as shocked as you are, but I gotta get home now. Thanks again for letting me be a part of th-”

“Wait, hold up, Edward Spaghedward-“ Richie stood, straightening out his jacket, “Let me walk home with you, don’t want anything to go bump-in-the-night, do we?”

“Do you really think that it’s necessary that you do that, Richie? Any of that, at all.” he asked, before trudging off to go and grab his bike.

“Yes, yes I think I should do all the things, all the time, and this one particular thing that I should be doing tonight is making sure that you get home in one piece: fanny pack and all.” Richie managed to get a few members of the losers club to agree with him before he got a dejected sigh from the pretty boy.

“Alright, fine.” and with that they both grabbed their bikes and began to walk them home, handle bars gripped tightly the whole way by both on their way to the Kaspbrak residence.

Eddie seemed like he was doing better, slightly more sentient than he had appeared previously, but Richie was unsure if tonight would be a good night to bust a move on the small boy. As they walked, bickering back and forth, trying to knock the other off balance by shoving their bikes in the others paths, Richie continued to mull over it. It wasn’t until they reached Eddie’s house that he quickly thought of a situation that he slide himself into. He followed Eddie to the side of his house, as the other shoved his bike into its usual crevice, all the while Richie was awkwardly fiddling with the lint in his pocket. Richie’s bike had been left to lean again the Kaspbrak mobile, to leave his hands free. Once Eddie had released his bike and turned back to Richie, one of the dirty boy’s hands left his pocket and was back on the others face again.

He saw Eddie shiver, his eyebrows raise- he could feel that quickening pulse again just barely below his pinkie, and Richie had to hold himself back from planting his lips (probably clumsily) on the other boy immediately. He looked into Eddie’s eyes, then down to his mouth, then back to his eyes; and he was sure he was breaking a sweat (again). Eddie was confused, but damn if he wasn’t immeasurably flustered by the others gentle touch.

“Jesus Christ. What- what is it, Richie? Could you stop being so weird for ten minutes.” he mumbled out, but he sounded a little breathless.

“Are you still high as a kite, Eds?” Richie nearly whispered, hand moving up to his cheek. He thumbed at the freckles and the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes, sometimes accidentally bumping his nose, making Eddie’s mouth quirk.

“Ugh, not really? I don’t know, but this is a little weird Richie. What- are you still high or something, idiot?”

“Probably, who fucking knows- I just, fuck, would it be okay if I kissed you? Right now, because I’ve felt like I’ve needed to all day and it’s starting to get downright ridiculous, but I’m so nervous- can you feel how sweaty my hand is on your face? I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s face began to light up even more at his words, under Richie’s hand. Instead of speaking he just nodded, firmly- but Richie didn’t seem completely assured, so he huffed out a small breath and looked up at Richie’s forehead.

“Please just go ahead and do it, before I end up drowning from your premium palm perspiration, Richie.”

And then Richie’s lips are on him, and it’s so soft, just barely grazing- it’s apprehensive. Eddie brings his hands up to push up Richie’s glasses, pulling them off before he presses his lips against Richie’s even harder. He disconnects, Eddie, but he keeps his eyes closed; and he doesn’t see prior to connecting back once more than Richie’s eyes were on him, doting and glossy and utterly full of love.

Once they were back together, Richie took the opportunity to discover the answer to his age-old question. He lightly sucked on Eddie’s bottom lip, his tongue doing a small swipe, before he pulled back and pushed his hand through Eddie’s hair. He lightly kissed his forehead, and then he tried tasting the balm on his own lips but it was…weird. Not too entirely similar to the artificial lemon flavoring he was expecting. He squinted at Eddie’s hair, perplexed, but Eddie was doing just the same for the same reason (different circumstance).

“Uh, question- why aren’t you still kissing me?” Eddie murmured, his hand that wasn’t holding onto Richie’s glasses grabbing at the other boys arm, while he reached up to kiss at Richie’s jaw.

“What is it, Eds?”

“What’s what, dumbass?”

“Your chapstick, dude! It’s throwing me for a loop…I guess the thought of kissing you felt so gay, everything about it had to scream fruity,” at that Eddie stopped kissing his jaw and pulled back to glare at him, while Richie gave a smack of his lips, “But this is queer in a whole other way.”

“Tozier, you’re heaven-sent but god if you don’t know how to ruin a damn moment.” he cursed before putting Richie’s glasses into his own pocket, releasing the others arm and unzipping the front pocket of his fanny pack. He pulled out that quizzical tube of lip smackers, hesitating before popping the cap and applying it to Richie’s lips himself. Richie let him, with no protest, with his hand still carding through Eddie’s hair.

“It’s Dr. Pepper, Richie.” and then they are kissing again- and he supposes that’s even better than the lemon he imagined, because god if that wasn’t so, uniquely Eddie.

[askylark]

A/N~ how do you reply to replies h e l p

I couldn’t decide and someone asked for reaper mei so I just?? Like its difficult but I’m gonna combine these two bc idk and I’m indecisive as hell

He didn’t quite know when she had become a part of his routine. Perhaps it had been that she had been his polar opposite with her cheerfulness and talkative ways. Perhaps it had been that while everyone else gave him wary glances or pitying looks she only smiled and asked if he wanted a slice of the cake she made for her own birthday because she wasn’t sure anyone else would remember. Perhaps it had been because she had once drawn a childlike picture of the Overwatch team and taped it to their fridge and she had included him in it despite the strain he’d caused with his tentative return. 

Perhaps it was that there was something about her that reminded him of his mother--the short height and plumpness of her body, the brown hair and large brown eyes and the way she could care less when he tried to act tough. 

She felt refreshingly uncaring of his deteriorated state, of the fact that they didn’t know whether to jail him, murder him or pretend he was his old self--the only things preoccupying her ever busy mind being researching climate change, books and sweets. 

“Gabriel,” She murmured with her thick accent, and he paused at her lack of glasses. “Would you like to go get some ice cream?” 

He felt everyone else in the room fix their gazes upon them, the silence making him uneasy in a way he loathed. There was a heavy wind outside, the sidewalks and streets covered in black ice from last nights snowfall--and they all had a bounty on their heads from the many enemies Overwatch had thwarted--and she wanted to walk to the ice cream shop a good fifteen minutes away?  

“No.” He looked away from her, his back to everyone’s worried looks. 

She smiled, oblivious to the tension she had caused. “Okay! Be back soon!” She walked towards the glass door--and then into it, the smack of her face sharp and almost comical. She covered her face with gloved hands and laughed loudly. “Sorry sorry sorry. Haven’t found my glasses yet.” She giggled and adjusted her sweater primly. “Snowball will help me, won’t you snowball?” 

The small machine’s eyes curled in happiness, whirring an eager approval as she pet him. 

Gabe let out a soft groan and went for his coat.

She was a complete disaster.

She’d nearly died several times--either from slipping over ice or nearly walking into oncoming traffic--and what set his temper the most was how she babbled incessantly through the whole thing, as if him jerking her back hadn’t just prevented her from becoming a bloodstain on the street. 

“My friends and I used to eat ice cream all the time!” She let him open the door for her as she began to unbutton her coat. “People thought we were crazy since it was always snowing. But ice cream always makes me feel warmer. Isn’t that silly?” 

He kept his coat on as he followed her to the glass covering the buckets of colorful ice cream, wondering which one she’d choose. The shop was a cozy one, different from the steel counter tops and machine run facility of their headquarters. 

The walls were painted pinstriped like candy canes, a thin strip of silver  separating the reds and whites. The ceiling was made of large metal squares, their reflection as clear as if it were a mirror.    

“Can you guess my favorite flavor, Gabriel?” He looked down at her question, wondering if she could read his thoughts. She was standing much too close to him--perhaps because her blurred vision prevented her from seeing much--and he was suddenly very aware of the porcelain color of her skin, of the petal pink color of her full cheeks and small lips. 

When was the last time he had kissed someone? Even pulling her up after she’d slipped--for the brief moment he’d had her small body in his arms--had felt like a shock of heat, a curl of warmth unfurling deep in his stomach. 

“Fresa.” He murmured, his breath hovering just over her mouth. 

Her frown was child-like. “Does that mean chocolate?”

“Strawberry.” He corrected. 

She hummed. “It’s not my favorite. Is it yours?”

He nodded ever so slightly. 

She smiled, the brightness of it confusing. “I would’ve guessed coffee since everyone drinks it so much!” She faced the young boy behind the counter with the happiness of a child choosing a brand new toy. “I want the toffee, William--that is you, right?” She squinted at him.

“Yes!” The boy grabbed a large waffle cone and began scooping diligently.  

“And you Gabriel?”

“Gabe.” He muttered. “I don’t want anything.”

She giggled and he wondered what exactly was so funny. 

“He will have the strawberry!”

 There was a reason he had not wanted ice cream. 

He sat much too still across the cherry stamped table from her, the pink scoops slowly beginning to soften and glisten from the warmth of the shop. Mei was already half way through with hers, scraping the edges of her toffee soaked waffle cone with a small neon green spoon. She’d been quiet for some time now as she made quick work of her scoops but now her big brown eyes focused upon him.

“Is something wrong, Gabriel?”

He despised how many times she said his name in a day. He’d let the sound become something he looked forward to. 

“No.”

She put her spoon down beside her coat and scarf--and he noted the ice cream stains on them dully. 

“Then why are you not eating?”

He looked out the window, the reflection of his bone white mask much too clear.

“If it makes you more comfortable I will not look.” She promised quietly, a mixture of carefulness and hope in her eyes. “I am also quite shy.” She admitted, color flushing her small features. “Maybe not with talking but...” She gestured to her coat. “My body. It’s why I wear so many layers.” She laughed. “My mother always tried to stop me from eating sweets. Especially in my teenage years.” Her smile was small. “Kids in school are merciless, you know.”

 He reached up slowly, deliberately, his thumb hooking beneath the chin of his mask. Something flickered in her gaze as he lifted it up--and when he peeled it off and looked at her she had her small hands clamped over her eyes. 

“I promised I wouldn’t look!” Her voice warbled. “I keep my promises.” 

The cold air felt electrifying on his raw skin, his body thrumming with an anger she did not deserve. He clenched his teeth together to prevent from speaking, fists curled. A minute passed with taut silence--and she slowly dropped her hands, eyes closed shut. 

“Look at me.” Gabriel muttered. 

“No.” Mei frowned. “I promised--”

“I didn’t ask you to.” He interrupted, knowing after tonight she’d keep far far away from him. “Look at me. It’s the least you can do.” It’s easy to be around me when I have my mask on. 

With her breath held, she opened her eyes slowly. Her large brown eyes traced over him helplessly, her brow furrowing in confusion at his scarred and raw visage. She blinked rapidly--and suddenly a huge grin split across her lovely face. Her shoulders shook and her hand covered her mouth as she tried to stifle her--is she laughing? 

“Oh, Gabriel!” She gasped between her chokes of laughter. “I can’t see a thing!” She laughed harder, her face cherry pink. “I can’t see a thing without my glasses.” She laughed until she gripped her own stomach in pain and he couldn’t help but be completely baffled by her reaction. 

Why am I so relieved?

They walked out of the shop some time later in complete silence, her small hands pressed against her lips for warmth. 

“Here.” Gabe wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, tugging it down between them. She didn’t seem to understand just what he was doing--but gratefully stayed silent when she understood. 

He held her hand the entire way home.