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hijirikaww · 2 years ago

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Ooooh now you're *really* onto something there (you have a really nice way with words btw??) - myu's ice + masa's water + kira's dark energy = the coolest combo!!! They'd have such an elegant mysterious vibe to them....I SO want to see this now!! Aww you're right and I *so* want to see them having a tea party, bless (just don't tell natsuki okay?)

THE HORSEBACK AND THE SWORDS THOUGH?? Absolute peak, your brain is 👌👌 magnificent. Going back a bit here but the way I Need to see Camus doing Hwa's wonderland symphony part....the grand sword gestures......it was made for him 😭

With how much Camus suffers around quartet night, I think he'd appreciate the moment of peace Masato & Kira could offer 😂

On a different tangent here: do you think Sannie & Cecil would get along? Since San loves cats and he's basically an irl cat too.....him & Cecil = same wavelength maybe? 😆

Okay but you're so right, it's impossible to bias one member of the demon line & not stan the rest too!! Sanhwa are especially powerful when they're together 😵‍💫 Ateez as a whole are incredible performers, I'm actually a stay but Ateez quickly became my second ults, I couldnt resist them 😭 Do you stan other groups btw? 👀

I'm sorry but I actually don't know that video 😭 but I'll look for it!!!! But gosh, hwa in a wig.....I'm immediately thinking like, do you know when lee know from stray kids wore the long wig? I'm seeing the vision here....hwa with long blonde hair please we need it 😭😭 can you imagine him doing a dramatic hair flip??

The way I saw mamma and instantly thought you were talking about hwa (the mom vibes y'know??) 😂 I love your thoughts please keep them coming 👌✨✨

Okay ahem so AAAAAA while reading this ask I went through so many emotions and became so happy ok?? I need a minute to gather myself back together lol.

Firstly thank you so much for the compliment - this is literally the unfiltered flow of my brain through a keyboard sksjdjsjs but most importantly, I really LOVE rambling with you about this!! Thank YOU for that!!

Dear Broccoli, when do we get this trio plz?

And god forbid Natsuki finds the tea party (something tells me his natural chaos would manage to do it somehow)!!! He would literally crash it with happiness and enthusiasm and sparkles and rainbows and honestly? Chances are he had just been carrying a batch of self-baked cookies that he just HAS TO SHARE.... let's just say they switch locations after that event, and remain ever vigilant..

Literally the next week Natsuki would have probably appeared again this time with an entire angry-cat-Syo to join the party.

Actually, something tells me Kira would develop a Natsuki sensor. Like, without a word he would get up and walk off to like a back room and leave Masa and Myu (gotta rant about this in a sec hold up) in their confusion before they look out the window and see Natsuki round a corner 5 seconds later and just KNOW he KNOWS. From then on they use the Kira detector as a safety feature, it is very reliable :)

SO MYU. I FORGOT ABOUT THAT NICKNAME, *THANK YOU FOR BRINGING IT BACK TO MY ATTENTION*!!!

Like I love Moose passionately, but Myu is so endearing!!! 🥺 precious ice prince mode activated 💙

Ps.. I love how tall he is??? People do not appreciate that enough about this man me thinks. What are your thoughts on that matter?

//I love how every one of these gets longer than the last lol this is so wonderful ~♡

Okay so... I HATE how on point you are about San and Cecil. This should not be allowed. Omg. They would seriously be great buds. They would tune into each other's unique aloofness and work so well. I feel like they wouldn't like, be joined at the hip (like Woo likes to do hahaha) but - much like a real cat-human relationship - be super happy and close with each other when they see each other every so often? Like they are comfortable with the little breaks in between but whenever they are spending time together they are the bestest of buds.

.....

Sanhwa is the absolute BEST.

That is all I've got on that. No words needed. Amazeballs. Mind blowing. Holy floof.

.....

I THINK I remember seeing LK in a wig?.. Not entirely certain if my mind maybe made it up though. Was it Halloween costume related by any chance? Bet he looked stunning. Is he your bias in Skz? Owo

I am soooorrt of a multi stan?? Like I really stan ATEEZ way above all, I don't super follow other groups with every single release etc. But I do know a lot of other groups and listen to soooooooooo many different groups I can't keep track :)

Skz is perhaps the group I know the second best?????? Me thinks?? Might be shared with Enhypen. Anyway, 3racha is the bomb. They are all super talented and badass too. My wholehearted approval. The other day I actually learned the 143 challenge!!! It is so fun to do!! :D

Anyways, speaking of boys in wigs, boys with LONG HAIR THO. I sure love those ;)

.. Camus totally gets that right 👌🏻��🌠

Even mullets! It is really unbelievable just how fabulous boys can be :)

Btw this is the video I was talking about! Very funny and worth watching haha~

I 100% approve of the mom Hwa vibes because really? Does it get any more wholesome than that? He is a blessing to this world seriously. So sweet, so caring and kind :)

Speaking of all these mammas, made me think of Mama - like the show each year - BOY DID YOU SEE THEM KILLING IT WITH THOSE STAGES!?!?!?! THE SECOND YEAR!?!? HWAS OUTFIT???? (EVERYONE'S OUTFIT?!?!?!?!?)

Omg. Like, they sure let out the demons in that one. Beautiful work of art that stage is from front to back, I'm still so blown away by it.

SINCE I CAN MAKE THIS POST EVEN LONGER:

Did you follow Kingdom???? Skz and TEEZ slayed so hard. Tbh all groups did tho. Amazing content. Blown away.

Special mentions go to WOLF cover with their mixed members (and Peniel slaying) was so good. Can still not believe there is such awesome content out there just like that.

Hope your day is going well, you sure are improving mine! Sending happiness your way! ~☆

#ask!#loooong ass post #should probably add a read more hold up #yayy #strawberry-ren #Emmy babbles #uwu #happy inbox noises #happy Emmy times #how do you add read more on mobile again #I remember going through this struggle before :(#sorry yall #edit: HUZZAH

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years ago

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Home for Christmas

This is my fic for the @aftgexchange winter round for @andreil-minyasten

I had so much fun writing this and I really hope this lives up to what you wanted! I actually had an idea for a part 2 to this from another bit of your prompts. If you want me to write that for you, feel free to message and ask, I’ll be quite happy to do so:)

Enjoy!!<3

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December 22nd

“What the hell do you mean that you aren’t going to be here for christmas, Andrew?”

Neil was beyond, angry. He was pissed. Their holiday plans had been decided back in November. Andrew would come to Neil in Boston from New York and they’d host Aaron, Katelyn from the twenty fourth before they’d meet Nicky, Erik- who were spending Christmas with Eric’s family in Germany -and the rest of the foxes down in South Carolina to spend New Years with Wymack and Abby.

But apparently, that was all going to shit, now.

“I’ve tried Neil, but flights are delayed and there’s a storm coming in. I don’t know if I’ll make it, the Mas definitely won’t.” Now he was beyond consoling.

“If you had come two days ago like you said you would, this wouldn’t be a problem. We haven’t seen each other since September.” He missed his partner, missed soft touches when they’d reach for one another in the night, he missed laying his head in Andrew’s lap while the other man read one of his newest books. Overall, he just missed Andrew.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it was Kevin’s fault I couldn’t come out when I had planned?” Neil scoffed.

“What Kevin wants has never stopped you before. Whatever, Andrew, I’m going to bed.” He ignored Andrew’s reply, hanging up and flinging his phone onto his bedside table. He was so tired of everything. Neil carried out his nighttime routine quite aggressively, flinging back the duvet with force, ignoring the constant buzzing of his phone. Tonight, the bed felt uncomfortable, lumpy and cold, so awfully cold. It had been three years of this, of the long distance, scheduling time to see each other, of having to be without one another for the majority of the year after spending four years attached at the hip while they were at PSU. The two of them, being how stubborn they both were, had sworn that the distance wouldn’t be an issue. Neil had to play with the Bobcats for two years minimum, considering it was the best contract he could get straight out of college and the closest to Andrew’s team.

Everything was great at first, wonderful even, they saw each other on as many weekends as they could, called and texted every day, and Skyped at least twice a week. But then shit went down hill. Practice built up and up if the team’s performance declined, promotions and photo shoots and team signings started taking up their free time. It was shit, they knew it was shit but, what could they do? He hated this, he hated everything about it.

His sleep that night was fitful and restless, and he was wide awake when the sun rose the next morning, yellow and orange rays of light hitting the empty spot beside him.

December 24th

Neil hadn’t spoken to Andrew since he abruptly ended their phone call two nights ago. There were several missed calls from the blonde on his phone, and many unread texts. He saw them as they came through, sometimes just his name, sometimes they asked if he was alright and ‘why won’t you pick up the fucking phone, Abram?’

Every part of him wanted to, fucking god, did he want to, but he had no idea what his brain would spout from his lips. He was terrified that the anger, the hurt of the separation, would come back full force and he’d say something awful that he’d most likely regret. That was his personal default when he was mad, finding exactly what to say that would hurt and hurt hard. So, no, he didn’t pick up the phone, he just left it alone and listened to the odd buzz as it vibrated against the kitchen counter. It was almost 8:30pm and Neil was making, or hoped to be making, cinnamon sugar cookies that would with any luck, still be warm and not burnt by the time Aaron and Katelyn arrived. They were apparently Kate’s latest pregnancy craving and he wanted for her to have them on hand so Aaron wouldn’t have to leave at some ungodly hour to get store bought ones.

There was flour everywhere and he was pretty sure there was some cinnamon on his forehead somehow, on top of that, he’d used more bowls than were actually needed for the ingredients the recipe called for but he wasn’t exactly surprised. Anything to do with cooking or baking was Andrew’s area of expertise: Neil just liked to watch, a giddy smile on his face whenever his partner whispered ‘staring’ without even looking at him. Shaking his head before he started to wallow in his own self pity, the timer to the first batch went off just as the buzzer to the apartment did. Quickly pulling out the baking tray, he placed it on the side, barely taking note of how the shapes he cut out now resembled blobs as he rushed to the door and pressed the button for the speaker. “Hello?”

“Neil! It’s Kate, Aaron is just sorting the bags and told me to come up first.” He smiled despite his somber mood for the past week.

“Come on up, I’ll buzz you in. Do you want me to wait outside the elevator for you?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine!” He agreed and let her in, wiping his hands before propping his front door open and waiting for her anyway. Before long, he was greeted with an eye rolling Katelyn, but there was a grin on her lips nonetheless. “You’re nearly as bad as my husband, I’m surprised he even let me come up on my own, but thank you.” She said, as he held out his elbow for her to take. She had begun to waddle a little now with how big she had gotten. Neil supposed that having twins made the whole process a little different.

He helped her settle into the armchair in the living room and asked, “can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thanks. Also, is that cinnamon I smell?” He felt his cheeks go hot and knew he was blushing.

“You mentioned at one point on the phone that cinnamon cookies are your newest craving and so I made some for you. They’re still warm if you’d like a few?” Katelyn nodded excitedly, murmuring how grateful she was at the thoughtful gesture and he hurried off, placing a few questionable looking snowmen and coming back into the other room just as the buzzer went off again. He left the pregnant woman to devour her food and admire his sparkly Christmas tree and went to let Aaron in. When the elevator opened up on his floor once again, he was met with a ruffled Minyard twin who was surrounded by bags.

“What the hell do you bring with you?”

“Shut your mouth and help me carry this shit, would you?” Neil kept his mouth shut and hefted a couple of bags into his arms. Most went into the spare room where the couple would be sleeping and then Aaron unloaded a big bag of presents to sit underneath the tree while he went back to put more cookies in the oven, and to load a few more onto Katelyn’s now empty plate. When he came back and sat himself on the couch, Aaron seemed out of breath, hugging as he lay on the wood floor.

“I’ll ask again, how much did you bring?” The woman stuffing her face giggled as her husband giggled and replied;

“We have your presents and Andrew’s presents from us, mine and Aaron’s that we’ve gotten each other, and we brought all the gifts for when we see the others next week. Also our clothes and my hospital bag even though I have about two and a half months left.” He nodded, though he was confused on the amount of clothes. They only lived an hour away from him and could go back for more clothes before they headed to South Carolina. Neil was about to mention just that when Aaron interrupted.

“Where is my brother anyway?” Ah yes, he’d forgotten to mention that. He let his face go blank as he told them what had happened. That Andrew kept pushing it back until he couldn’t come, that they’d argued and that they weren’t currently speaking. Katelyn had something akin to pity on her face and Aaron looked as though he was angry on behalf of Neil. “What the fuck? He’s seriously going to miss Christmas with his family, with you?”

“Looks like it.”

“But since when has what Kevin wanted ever mattered to him? Unless it benefitted his own needs of course.” It was weird slowly becoming friends with Aaron and seeing that occasionally, they could be on the same wavelength and agree with each other. It was a little bit dangerous, in his opinion.

“That’s what I said.”

“Is he still going to come to Palmetto next week.” He didn’t know what to say, because Andrew could still turn up at Abby’s despite not being here now. He also hadn’t spoken to him, so he hadn’t got the chance to ask. Neil stayed quiet. Aaron looked like he was about to press for more when Kate suggested that they watch a movie together and started setting up the tv without waiting for either of them to reply. Twenty minutes into the movie, Katelyn had picked A Christmas Carol because it was a classic, Neil got the final batch of cookies from the oven and cleared down the kitchen for tomorrow. Another ten minutes after that, Katelyn disappeared to put on pyjamas and Aaron grabbed him and Neil a beer from the fridge. By ten o’clock they were debating on watching one more film or going to bed when the apartment door opened and closed loudly.

The three of them half jumped out of their seats, turning violently to see Andrew Minyard standing in the doorway, and Neil’s breath caught in his throat. He was bundled up in a thick black coat, the collar pulled up around his neck, and his black knitted bobble hat Neil had brought him last year was pulled down over his ears that he just knew would still be adorably pink at the tips. One of his hands was tucked into his pocket and the other held a large duffel bag.

“Well well, look at what the cat finally dragged in.” Both Neil and Andrew glared at Aaron, who only rolled his eyes in response to their annoyance. Turning back to Andrew he gave him one last once over before standing slowly.

“Why don’t you go and sort yourself out,” he pointed to the bedroom where their en-suite was, “I’ll be in there in a minute.” Andrew gave a curt nod in confirmation and disappeared down the hall, bedroom door shutting softly. Katelyn was speaking to him, saying that she and Aaron were going to head to bed, kissing him on the cheek and pulling her husband along. Neil’s first instinct was to run to the bedroom, wrap his partner up in his arms, kiss him until they were breathless and then never let him go again but he was still mad at him. So, he cleared the few empty cans from the coffee table, and took Kate’s dirty glass and plate to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink. He locked the door and the windows out of habit and switched off all of the lights and slowly walked to his bedroom where he knew Andrew was waiting.

When he reached the door, he froze with his hand on the handle, closing his eyes and breathing deeply several times before he forced himself to step inside. As he suspected. Andrew was now in a pair of grey sweats and, he noticed with some satisfaction, one of Neil’s long sleeve cotton shirts. This one was a navy blue and Andrew had never looked more beautiful than he didn’t now, in soft clothes, hair ruffled and his nose and cheeks still a little pink from the cold air outside. He tugged on his withering self control and stopped himself from climbing over the other man and just holding him. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Taking that as a cue to start first, Andrew spoke, though Neil never expected for those words to ever come out of his partner’s mouth. “I lied to you.”

“What?” The blonde looked down at his hands, sighed, and then stood, walking and walking until he was a mere few steps away from Neil. Before, before there would be no need for that distance, because they’d healed and grown together and barely used ’yes or no’ unless it was a bad day or they were trying new things. Fuck long distance relationships.

“I lied. Kevin was never the one to keep me back in New York the first time, and there was no storm coming in to stop me from coming this time.” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck? How could you lie, you swore you’d never lie to me. Why didn't you want to come, and why turn up at the last minute?” Andrew did step into his space then, on hand gripping his hip and the other linking their pinkie fingers together.

“Because there was something I was trying to sort out but those god damn stickball coaches are a pain in my ass.” Neil blinked, and then blinked a couple more times, before he was led to the bed where Andrew let go of him to dig out a stack of papers from his duffel bag and handed them into his scarred hands. “Merry Christmas, Junkie.” Okay, now he really was confused as he stared at the item in his hands with a furrowed brow. His anger was still there, but dying out slowly. He flicked through page after page eyes widening and mouth dropping open before he looked back at Andrew whose lips were quirking at his dumbfounded expression.

“You’re serious? You join the Bobcats when the new season starts?” His lover nodded.

“I’m tired. I’m tired of being away from you, of all the fighting. I’ve been working with your coach and mine to trade me with your goalkeeper, Angie. They hated it at first but I got there in the end. That’s why I’m so late, they were still hesitant about signing the damn forms.”

“So you started yet another fight with me?” In one swift movement there were hands on his cheeks and words were being breathed against his lips, sending pleasant, incredibly missed shivers down his spine as he wrapped his arms around Andrew’s waist.

“Not my finest moment, but I was trying to surprise you. Clearly, I’m not very good at it.” Neil chuckled wetly, and pressed their foreheads together.

“This is really happening?” He whispered gently.

“Yeah. I’ve still got to move all my stuff out here and things like that, but it’s real, Abram.”

“Then kiss me, you asshole, and make me forget your very bad surprise.” Andrew laughed then too, walking him backwards and pushing him down onto the bed, straddling his waist. They kissed for what seemed like hours, wrapped up and lost in one another. When they finally pulled apart, his lips felt tingly and his breathing came in pants.

That night, he fell asleep to warm sheets, a soft body behind him and cradled in a strong pair of arms. Despite the rocky start, Neil thought this might have been his best Christmas yet.

-------

I really hoped you liked it and if you do want that part two, I’ll be more than willing. I’m actually quite happy with the idea:)

#aftg exchange #andreil fluff #andrew minyard #neil josten #katelyn #aaron minyard #christmas fic #long distance relationship #angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #aftg fic #my fic #all for the game #my writing #haz writes

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thekytchensynk · 4 years ago

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Choices (Fictober Prompt 11)

Prompt number: 11

Fanfiction Fandom: Ducktales

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings

Read this story on AO3

Gyro paced.

When Mr. McDuck, holder of the pursestrings, had determined that “Gizmoduck” was the “hero” that Duckberg needed, Gyro hadn’t agreed, but he had agreed, if you take the difference. The idea itself? Pure madness. The thought that some half-baked intern in a mechanical utility suit would somehow many the city safer rather than in far more danger struck him as the same sort of fairy tale nonsense that led to children staying up late at night enthusiastically waiting for some allegedly benevolent creature to break into their homes and leave free items, as though there would be no strings attached to THAT down the line.

But while Mr. McDuck and Gyro were on the same wavelength regarding the jolly fat man, they were not seeing eye to eye on the superhero thing. And since Gyro didn’t hate the idea of … ugh … Gizmoduck enough to potentially jeopardize access to his benefactor, he’d gritted his beak and tried to sound enthusiastic about it.

He liked to think he’d done a good job.

But the idea of actually managing the day-to-day nonsense of a superhero had turned out more complicated and irritating than he’d even imagined. For instance, despite being an intern with Gyro himself, the pilot of the suit wasn’t really a mechanical sort of thinker -- he could do passably well with wiring or a circuit board, but there was far more of a chemistry and physics bent in that one. Which meant while he could patch up the suit, and even make changes to it, he wasn’t as comfortable in that world as he was wearing the darn thing.

Which left it all to Gyro, of course. And did anyone think about that? Did anyone thank him? No, of course not. That wasn’t the flashy bit, why should anyone care if the suit was working well when Duckburg needed it?

And that was only the beginning.

There were the letters. Because people allegedly didn’t know where Gizmoduck lived (a fact Gyro assumed had to be a lie, the guy couldn’t keep the secret from literal children), they sent letters for him to McDuck Enterprises, since it publicly sponsored him. And the corporation wisely wanted nothing to do with them, so what did it do? It sent them here, to his place of work, where they were nothing more than a processed-pulp annoyance. Thank you for helping me cross the street, Gizmoduck! Thank you for finding my puppy, Gizmoduck! Thank you for swooping in to grab the gunman holding those kids hostage, ending the incident without any injuries Gizmoduck! A parade of saccharine paper waste.

And then there were nights like tonight. When Mr. McDuck and his family had hared off to some obscure corner of the world chasing money or mysticism, and some weather-based villain or something had attacked city hall (Seriously, there were so many weather baddies at this point, Gyro didn’t even bother learning names).

Gyro got notification on his phone whenever the suit started activating its more combat-oriented functions. Because combat functions meant combat. And combat meant the suit getting damaged.

And that meant Gyro up late repairing the darn thing, because if he let the city’s superhero fall into disrepair while Mr. McDuck was away … well, neither he nor his expensive invention ideas wanted to think what would happen after that.

The feed was mostly audio and a series of indicators showing the integrity of various systems -- power, the bigger weapons systems, propulsion, core movement, pie filling levels, etc. Mostly, watching them felt about like watching UV-protective resin coating dry. Sometimes he tinkered while he watched, but sometimes?

Sometimes he paced.

Tonight was one of those nights. The weather guy had attacked after a city council meeting about the curriculum in the Duckburg City Public Schools. Apparently he wanted meteorology to be a full year of study for every class in the fifth grade, and when the city council refused to vote on it (because the school board and not the city council would be the ones voting on a curriculum, Gyro assumed), he had decided to throw a tantrum and was holding the council, two reporters and everyone who’d shown up for the meeting hostage with an overly excited lightning storm.

The reason he’d chosen to pace instead of tinker this evening was that all the lightning was wreaking absolute havoc on the wifi that was beaming all this data back to the lab. He had the readouts on one of the larger displays, and the audio feed piping in through the lab speakers, but every once in a while the inane banter between hero and villain would break up in an absolutely ear-splitting burst of static. The sound invariably made Gyro jump, then he’d hop over, checking the readout and waiting for the feed to stabilize. And each time, it would come up -- power dropping but at an expected rate, pie filling holding steady, movement systems at ninety-five percent with some limited movement in the left shoulder which had been injured, as far as Gyro could tell, when Gizmoduck had dived to save someone from a blast of lightning. Nothing to be worried about. They just had to wait it out because getting hit by lightning was perhaps one of the worst things for the suit to handle.

Gyro paced.

“Professor Gearloose?” came a voice over the comm -- not the loud, self-assured tones of Gizmoduck, but the quieter, more urgent ones Gyro was more familiar with.

“Intern,” Gyro said by way of reply, expecting his word -- and tone -- to be picked up by the mics in the lab.

“I think something’s going on.”

“Things have been going on for almost an hour,” Gyro replied, unimpressed. “You should know, you were there.”

“No, I mean … something else.”

As he said this, Gyro finally picked up on a few facts. First, this marked the first time tonight the comm had been used for communication, not just monitoring the sounds at the scene. Second, it sounded like the intern was trying to keep his voice low.

And third? Well, even underwater, Gyro finally noticed the pickup in lightning activity. Echoes of lightning bolts were even making themselves seen all the way down here. It looked almost like a strobe light going off up there.

“What?” Gyro said, doing his best not to sound irritated or impatient despite being both of those things at the moment.

“He’s building up for something big. I don’t know, it’s looking apocalyptic up here. I think he’s going to try to take out the whole building with some sort of supercharged lightning bolt!”

“What makes you think…” Then Gyro’s mind wandered back over the past hour of ranting he’d half-heard from this weather villain and he answered his own question. “He told you that, didn’t he?”

“He did, but I didn’t think he actually had the power. Take out some of the brickwork, maybe, but he wasn’t showing anything like enough power to bring down a building.”

“What changed?”

“He pulled something out of the storm generator he’s using, and everything started ramping up.

“Describe it.” And as the intern did, Gyro’s suspicion quickly switched to certainty. Some sort of limiter. He’d put something similar in his own weather changing device before Mr. McDuck shut that avenue of study down. The problem was the limiter also acted as a regulator, and without it, the machine would cycle into ever-higher levels of power until…

“He absolutely can take down city hall with that machine,” Gyro said, urgency building in his chest like a physical pressure. “If that thing is allowed to continue, it might take out the whole surrounding block with it.”

“The whole … oh no, what am I going to do, what am I going to do?” The intern was clearly not talking to him anymore.

Not being directly addressed had never stopped Gyro before. “You need to get out of there,” he said. “Get the people and get out of there.”

“I can’t!” he hissed back. “There are too many. Not just in City Hall, but in most of the buildings around here, people got trapped by the fight. There have to be a hundred that I can see from here, and … I’ll just have to move it”

“What, through the streets?” Gyro asked, trying to emphasize just how terrible an idea this was. “It’s going to follow you. All you’ll be doing is picking a new spot for the guy to destroy.”

“If I fly-”

“You’ll just speed up the process,” Gyro said, frustrated that his intern didn’t understand the workings of a weather machine just because he’d never build or worked on one before. “It’s like magnets, the closer the machine is to the storm, the sooner that mega-bolt is going to come down.”

A pause. Then, “But it’ll stop at the machine, right?”

“Of course it’ll…” Gyro realized what he was unintentionally condoning in the middle and threw the brakes on hard. “Wait, wait, you can’t do that. The suit can’t handle it.”

“The city can’t handle it,” the intern came back quietly. And he was right.

Gyro tried to think. “The body of the suit should be able to take a lot of the load,” he said, voice dropping into a clinical tone, words coming fast. “But this isn’t like a normal lightning bolt. Do you have time to bond anything to it that could work as a static wick of sorts?”

“There’s no time,” he said. “And I don’t have a properly conductive bonding agent anyway.”

“Then how about-”

“There’s no time,” he repeated, and the sounds in the background shifted. He could hear the copter blades in the background, and the weather guy shouting in unintelligible rage.

“That suit is tied into your brain,” Gyro practically shouted. Why wasn’t he listening? “If you throw yourself directly into Thor’s temper tantrum, then-”

“Dr. Gearloose, you worked on this suit dozens of times,” the intern said.

“Yes, so you should listen to me when I say-”

“I think it’s stronger than you think it is. I think you underestimate your work. “I think I’m going to be safe.”

“You idiot intern, you-”

KA-BOOM. The sound of lightning striking the suit and the machine and the intern lanced deafeningly through the lab, so loud that it made Gyro jump, startled, and left his ears ringing.

The volume made the silence that followed all the worse.

“Intern?” Gyro asked into the quiet, even though a strike like that had to have taken out the systems. It might have kicked to auxiliary for a safe landing, but communications would be gone. The readouts from the suit had gone dark.

So Gyro paced.

Two hours later, the elevator started up. Gyro looked up from where he was working over the suit’s blueprints to see the doors pop open and reveal his intern, a little worse for wear and lugging that familiar duffle bag. The guy’s eyes roved over the lab before landing on the invetor.

“Dr. Gearloose!”

He sounded entirely too chipper. Gyro carefully tucked the blueprints into a waterproof sleeve and stood up. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing!” The intern sounded super enthusiastic about that answer. “The cops said I should go to the ambulance, but … hahaha no.” He started giggling, and for a moment, Gyro wondered if he’d spent the last two hours out getting drunk. If that were the case he wouldn’t have to fire the guy, he;d have to make sure he met with an accident before Mr. McDuck came back instead because Gyro was not going to put up with being left here, alone, wonder if-

“I told you so,” Fenton said, grinning at Gyro. “The lightning didn’t get to my brain. The suit handled it fine! Well.” He paused, then corrected himself. “Not fine. Like a blackout, too much light then everything goes dark and whoooosh, down I went.” He simulated the descent with one hand, like a child. When his palm impacted the work table, he almost knocked himself off balance.

Gyro blinked. “The auxiliary didn’t auto-loose the parachute?”

The intern squinted at him, mouthing the word parachute like someone who’d never heard the word before. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! Yeah, the parachute happened. But then it caught on one of the gargoyles and riiiiiip.” He really drew the sound effect out. “The last bit was fast. Really fast. Bumped my head.” He giggled again, one hand going to the side of his head.

Where, Gyro could now see, a bit of dried blood crusted among the feathers.

“You gave yourself a concussion?” Gyro demanded.

“Teeechnically the ground gave it to me,” The intern corrected him. “But it caught me, so I can’t be too mad.”

“Come on. We need to get you to a hospital. Now.” Gyro said, walking over and turning him back toward the door.

The intern followed him unsteadily but with clear determination. “Right,” he said. “Hey, did you know you build in a breaker? Up there?” He tapped at the air where the Gizmoduck helmet would normally have been.

“I what?”

“It disengaged when the surge came,” the intern told him with the severity of a child explaining a very serious diorama of toys. “Disconnected from my brain. Just as the lightning hit. You don’t remember?”

And now, suddenly, he did. He’d put that in almost as an afterthought -- a clearly forgotten afterthought. But once the intern said the suit had been rewired to use an organic processor … well, all those thoughts of things going wrong had swirled in his head, and he had spent an afternoon putting together a couple different prototypes. Testing. Installing the best. Forgetting about it. Worried about literally nothing.

Well, not worried. He hadn’t been worried. Of course not.

“Let’s go,” he said, ignoring the fact that they were both already in the elevator. He hated that the night was about to become a lot longer while he got the concussed idiot medical care, to make sure his brain wasn’t leaking out the side of his head.

But one thing for sure. He was absolutely done pacing for tonight.

#fictober20 #11 #ducktales #fanfic #gyro gearloose

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jombocostello · 5 years ago

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hey!! can i request a Polnareff x Reader where it’s basically set after the events of Stardust Crusaders where they go their separate ways and Polnareff goes to back to France but the reader decides to go with him cuz it’s been her dream to go to France and now they’re just a lovey dovey couple doing romantic things that deserve a happy ending after the events in egypt. (ik in pt 5 he said he travelled europe in search of the arrows but i just wanna see my french man all goofy w/ a happy ending)

hi, thanks so much for the request!! i am so happy my first request is a polnareff one lmao. this is such a cute idea! and i agree- polnareff deserves a nice relaxing life on the french countryside with the love of his life more than anything!

perfection (polnareff x reader)

"So... You're sure about this, right?"

"Yes! God, how many times do I have to tell you?"

That had been three months ago, after you and the other crusaders had defeated Dio. You stood at the airport, one hand securely holding your luggage and the other held tightly in Polnareff's. "I don't have any family, so we'll be on our own. It's quiet where I'm from."

"It's not gonna be quiet if I'm there," you said, and he laughed a little. "I'll brighten up your little neighborhood in no time, trust me."

"I'm glad." He leaned down and kissed your forehead, and despite being relatively new, the gesture felt like the most familiar, comfortable thing in the world. "Our plane'll be leaving soon, (Y/N). You ready?"

You nodded, setting your luggage down on the ground and gently letting go of Polnareff's hand. "One second." You walked over to Joseph and Jotaro, who were getting ready for their own flight a few feet away, and pulled them both into a hug. "Bye, guys," you murmured into Jotaro's shoulder, grinning. "I'll see you around."

You all pulled back and took in each other's expressions. "Good luck with him," Joseph said, gesturing to Polnareff. "He can be a real pain in the ass."

Jotaro cracked a smile. "But so can she, so I think they'll be alright." You all laughed and, after one more hug, said goodbye.

Polnareff handed you your bag when you got back. "So, are you excited?" you asked, grinning up at him as you walked. "I am. I'm really happy."

Never one for suppressing his emotions, Polnareff smiled widely down at you and again took your hand in his. "I can't even describe how happy I am. My heart is so full." You felt your face heat up and you sighed, raising his hand and kissing it gently. "I promise I'll make you happy."

You had no doubt that he would fulfill that promise.

---

"Shit! Ah, uh... Jean, on a scale of one to ten, how important is this mug to you?"

Three months later and you've settled into domestic life wonderfully. Polnareff's hometown really isn't much of a town - every house in the area is a five minute drive away - but it doesn't bother you one bit. The gorgeous scenery and the peace of total silence is a welcome change, especially after what you've both been through.

There had been a couple bumps in the road during the first month; you'd taken your relationship pretty quickly, to be fair, so there was a bit of awkwardness and readjusting as you learned to live with each other. Still, though, you both make each other so happy that those problems sorted themselves out pretty quickly.

And now you're here, holding half of a bright red coffee mug while the other half lies shattered on the ground. Polnareff pokes his head in from the other room and you meet his gaze, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry."

He looks from you to the smashed mug, and before you can get nervous, a grin splits across his face. "It was ugly anyways! And now we have an excuse to get a new one." He walks over to you with long strides and crouches down, carefully picking up the shards. "We can get one in your favorite color, which is... Uh..." You watch him with raised eyebrows as he wracks his brain for a few moments. Finally, he tries a color, and to your surprise he gets it right! He smirks as he stands back up and tosses the mug in the trash. "We're on the same wavelength, ma cherie," he says with a laugh.

"I guess so. Definitely on the right track, at least." You grab a different mug and VERY carefully bring it over to the counter. As you pour your coffee, you watch Polnareff lean against the kitchen counter. His hair is nearly touching the ceiling; it's so funny how he dwarfs everything in his own home.

"I didn't know you drink coffee," he comments.

"I haven't been able to sleep for the past two months so I figured I probably shouldn't," you answer as you spoon sugar into your cup. "This week has been pretty good sleep-wise so I'm bringing it back!" You take an obnoxious sip and burn the hell out of your tongue. Polnareff laughs loudly as you swear, but you just set the mug down and laugh a little with him. "The coffee doesn't agree with me."

"Apparently not." He walks over to you and wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on the top of your head. Part of you hates the fact that he's tall enough to do this, but the other half absolutely loves it. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, and you feel your heart skip as he takes your hands in his.

"Yeah, it's fine," you breathe, smiling. "It'll take more than a cup of coffee to get me."

"I know." He presses a kiss to the top of your head and sighs. "Well I might as well start drinking coffee too, huh? I never used to but I can try."

You smile as Polnareff walks over to the coffee maker and squints at it for a moment, as if judging by its appearance whether he would like it. "Jean, I'm not making you take up coffee drinking. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"But I want to try!" he declares, and he decides to steal a sip of yours. He picks it up and quickly drinks a minuscule amount; almost immediately his face scrunches up. You snort as he sets the cup down, grimacing. "Maybe it's not for me."

"It figures you wouldn't like something so bitter," you say, a cheeky grin making its way onto your face. "You're just too sweet!" He groans loudly with a huge smile on his face as you wrap your arms around him. "I couldn't resist, sorry."

He sighs. "It's gonna take me a week to get over that one." You let go of him and sit down at the kitchen table with your coffee. "But I forgive you." You look down at the wooden table as you drink some more, while Polnareff looks through the cabinets for something to have for breakfast.

You haven't been sleeping very well for the past few months - ever since you got back from Egypt. Most nights you get a few hours, but sometimes you can't even bring yourself to close your eyes; whenever you do, you're plagued by images of the horrors you witnessed and the friends you lost. Kakyoin's strangled scream as he was killed plays almost constantly in your dreams, and the fact that Avdol hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye hurts more than anything. You shut your eyes and take a deep breath. Polnareff is going through the same thing, so you both spend a lot of time comforting each other, but it's still ridiculously hard. You're so, so, lucky that you have him, but not even he can keep you from falling into all those memories on some days. You clench your fists when you feel your eyes well up with tears; maybe this grief is never going to fade -

"Holy shit! When did you buy brownies?"

Polnareff's elated voice tears you from your thoughts, and you laugh loudly. He looks at you with wide, excited eyes. "Seriously! Did you know they're my favorite?"

"I know now."

"Let's make them," he says definitively.

You raise your eyebrows. "Jean, we haven't even had breakfast yet."

He looks from you to the brownies and back again. "...We could have brownies for breakfast...?"

God, you love him so much. With a laugh, you grab the box from him. "I'm not gonna argue with that." He grins and thanks you as you open up the box.

After a breakfast of slightly-burnt brownies, you and Polnareff spend the day around the house, fixing up the yard and rearranging some furniture. If someone had told you a month ago that you'd be living out this perfectly domestic life, you would've laughed out loud - but somehow, you found yourself in a cottage on the French countryside with the man you loved more than anyone in the world. Days just fly by, because you have so much fun being with him. It's honestly perfect.

Later in the day, you're in your bedroom reading when Polnareff steps into the room. He places his hands on your shoulders and leans down, kissing your cheek. "Hi," he murmurs.

You turn to face him and kiss him, wrapping your arm loosely around his torso. "Hey," you reply. "What's up?"

"I have a request, dear." He gently takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair with a gentle smile. "Put on the nicest outfit you have and meet me at the door."

You squint at him. "What's this about?"

He smiles. "It's a surprise!" You stare at him for a while longer; you know secrets only last about 30 seconds in Polnareff's brain. He finally relents, sighing and letting go of your hands. "I made a reservation at that restaurant you said you wanted to try."

"What?" You hug him tightly, grinning. "Thank you!"

"Of course." The softness of his voice makes you smile; he's just so sweet. "I figured since it's been three months of being together, we should celebrate!"

"Three months..." You lean back and look up at him, cracking a smile. "It's really been wonderful. I love being with you, Jean."

His eyes widen, and he slowly leans down and kisses your forehead. "Three perfect months with the perfect person," he murmurs.

He leaves to get ready, and you get ready yourself. Just thinking about all the wonderful gestures of love Polnareff showers you with makes you blush. Taking you to restaurants, showing you all the best parts of his hometown, the little hugs and kisses he gives you all throughout the day... He's truly a master of romance, that's for sure. He wins you over more and more every day.

You're ready to go, and you head for the door. Polnareff is waiting for you in a crisp button-down shirt and a nice pair of pants; he looks handsome every day but this is just ridiculous. When he sees you his eyes widen, and his mouth just barely turns up at the corners. He stares at you for a minute and then blinks, as if he's forgotten how to speak. "(Y/N), you're so beautiful," he says quietly, taking you in.

Your face flushes and you glance down, unable to hold his gaze. He takes a couple steps towards you and places his hand under your chin, guiding your face up to look at him. "I mean it," he tells you, and you know he does. His voice is so earnest and adoring and you feel your heart nearly burst from your chest. "I love you."

You stand on your toes and kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. As you part, you reach out and fix a strand of hair that had somehow fallen from its immaculate style. "I love you too, Jean," you say softly, as you briefly run your hand over his cheek. "Thank you for being with me."

He suddenly puts an abrupt end to the gentle moment by leaning in and giving you a loud kiss on the cheek. "The pleasure's all mine," he says with a warm laugh, and you snort, punching him in the arm. You can't imagine a life or a love that's better than this.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #polnareff x reader #jean pierre polnareff #jojo imagines #ahh polnareff is such a king.#and again thank you for the request!! i hope you liked this! :)#my writing

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deunggol-reactions · 6 years ago

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BTS reaction: their s/o is 99% impulse

Anonymous asked: Not sure how busy you are, but if you could, could I get Bangtan with an s/o who is kind, goofy ect; but is also PEAK dumbass culture, like, their brain is 1% braincell and 99% impulsive instinct

{Did you mean: me}

Kim Seokjin

Exasperated 24/7. He sometimes wonders how it’s possible for one person to be so…that. Yes, you’re kind and funny and beautiful, but Jin refuses to believe that you’ve never seen a microwave in your life. “(Y/n), we have a microwave at home! You’ve seen one before!” And then it clicks in your head and you do remember seeing that cooking device in your shared home on multiple occasions. Jin just shakes his head and sighs. He has no idea how you’ve managed to stay alive for all of the years you’ve been on this earth.

Min Yoongi

He’s so used to it by now that he doesn’t even register it anymore. “Yoongi, did you dye your hair? It looks different!” “(Y/n), it’s been dyed for two weeks now.” In his mind, it’s useless to try to comprehend how…interesting you are, so he doesn’t even try. Whenever you do something without thinking it through (which is, like, 99% of the time), he just watches you in silent disappointment. He loves you, of course, but he has no idea how you ended up like this.

Jung Hoseok

He’s able to keep up, and it lowkey kinda scares you. “Hobi, where’s the lil stabby thingy?” “The fork? It’s in the second drawer on your left.” Seriously, how does he always seem to know exactly what you’re talking about? Can he read your mind? You wouldn’t put an ability like that past him, honestly. Namjoon sometimes jokes that it’s because your and Hoseok’s brains are on the same wavelength, and you have to agree.

Kim Namjoon

At this point, he’s used to this kind of thing. After having spent so much time with the chaotic energy that is bts, he’s pretty unfazed when you do silly things. “Namjoon, I left my phone in the car!” “It’s in your hand, (y/n).” These types of situations happen a lot, and he’s learned to get used to them. Not that he minds, of course. He loves you more than anything. He just wishes he was able to understand what is going on inside your head sometimes.

Park Jimin

Lowkey gets secondhand embarrassment from you, as he does with all of the members. If you’re out in public together and you do something silly in front of everyone, Jimin’s face will be buried in his hands in a matter of seconds. He thinks you’re like a little kid sometimes, and it’s cute. He wishes he could have half of the confidence (or is it unawareness?) that you have. Either way, Jimin loves you for you, and even though you make him super embarrassed sometimes, he still thinks you’re absolutely adorable.

Kim Taehyung

He’s pretty much just so whipped for you to the point where he doesn’t care anymore. Taehyung just lets you do you, it’s not like he’s going to try to stop you. He usually prefers to stand close by and watch as you go about your day. You’re just so interesting to him and he loves that. If he could just sit there and watch you be yourself forever, he would love that. You’re just so unique and unapologetically you, and he can’t seem to get enough of that. He knows he’s whipped.

Jeon Jeongguk

He’s usually right there beside you doing dumb stuff, especially when it comes to bts. At dinners, you and Jungkook are trying to balance spoons on your noses. While watching movies, you and Jungkook try to see how many lines you can predict. And the thing is, the members love you too much to get mad about it. I mean, who would stop your fun when you both seem so happy?

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #imagines #reactions #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #fluff #jin #suga #jhope #rm #jimin #bts v #jungkook

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quickspinner · 2 years ago

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First of all, I'm just a huge fan. I really, really am. You're like a fanfic celebrity to me.

Secondly, for the writer asks, 25, 29, and 30, please.

Ask me a weird question

😊 Aww you're super sweet and I'm really just a big dork but thank you 💜💜💜

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Ummmmm hm. Well, it has actually come up here and there but I always love the idea that Anarka shunned traditional childcare and put Luka and Juleka in whatever classes fit the times she needed them watched, so they both have all kinds of random skills. Juleka does a mean softshoe routine. 😆 It's how Luka got so good at ice skating. I am on board with them knowing how to do the most absolutely random things. So, in Motorcycle Fairy, when Luka lifts Marinette up onto his shoulders, it's because he spent a summer in cheerleading camp and knew how to do the lifts. Does that count? I think that counts.

Also, Luka is secretly petty. It may take him years to get back at you for something, but he will, in the least straightforward way possible. 😆

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

Maladaptive daydreaming 😆 Whenever life gets a little too unpleasant for me to deal with I put my brain somewhere else. Like at the dentist office. Body is there getting teeth dealt with like an adult. Mind is hiding in a different universe where everything is romantic and beautiful and ends happy.

Seriously, though, a little bit from everywhere? A song that comes on, or something that I saw driving by. There's like a billion little moments in the day where your body is dealing with the real world but your mind doesn't totally have to be present, and I always joke that my mind works like a pinball. Some totally random thing will start a train of thought that careens off a bunch of different things until suddenly there's an idea for a scene in my mind.

Also, other people. Chatting with people in the disco, or seeing something I agree or disagree with online, or some line in someone else's story, or someone's headcanon where I'm like wait that's cool or wow I never thought of that before but I would totally go the opposite way, and then the pinball's bouncing and eventually I end up with a thought that turns into an idea.

When I don't have an ideas, I just...do something else. That's when I'm more likely to consume media. I don't actually watch or read a lot of stuff while I'm in writing mode because a) it takes up mental energy to consume something new b) it's kinda distracting from the thing I've been thinking about and I don't like my thought process being interrupted. So when I don't have anything in my mind, that's when I might decide to watch or read something new. When I'm not necessarily out of ideas but I'm just stuck, I sometimes come here on the blog and ask for ideas, or do a sprint fic. Sprint fics are amazing for getting into the flow of writing because when you're mindful of the timer, you don't overthink things, and it's a good way to disengage that self-sabotaging judge mode and get right into the 'madman' mode.

If all else fails, I go whine at my discord buddies. Having writing friends who vibe with you is so helpful and important. I emphasize that because it's not always enough to just find another group of people who write. That can be helpful, but there's such a difference between finding a group of people who write the same subject as you, and finding a group of people who are really on your wavelength, who can flow with your ideas. If you find that a lot of your thoughts are met with 'I don't see it that way' or 'huh that's not how I envisioned it' it's not because there's necessarily a right or wrong view--nobody is wrong for having their opinion, but it does make it hard to really get that give-and-take flow of ideas. If that happens it's totally okay to go find a different group of people and try again.

Ahem. A little unsolicited advice there, I guess. 😅 Moving on!

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

I don't really think I draw much from my dreams for writing. I don't necessarily have repeat dreams, but I have a lot of repetitive themes in my dreams. Like, I frequently dream about houses. Either buying a new house, or we have just bought a new house, or we found some space in our old house that we either didn't know existed or had forgotten about, frequently that needs some kind of maintenance. Lately there's been a lot of water involved? Like there's a lake or a beach near the house?

And dear God I graduated from college like nineteen years ago and I am STILL dreaming about it. Sometimes I can't find a class, or I'm in the wrong class, or I'm lost because I can't find my dorm room because all the hallways in the place look exactly the same and I'm usually missing at least one critical item of clothing.

I have had a couple of really fantastical dreams that would have made epic blockbuster movies if I could remember more than the vaguest details when I wake up...but I never can. There's at least one I would really like to because it seemed like an amazing story but I got nothing except clans of different colors, bird wings, and getting knocked off a super high bridge as we marched...somewhere. I've been on oxygen at night since the pulmonary embolism back in January a few times my oxygen cable has fallen off while I was sleeping, and I had some really cool sci-fi dreams where I was thinking all the while 'dang it's so hard to breathe in these spacesuits!' 😆 One of them was like this weird mash up of Star Wars and Mass Effect and the Martian that would have made a really cool story. (I'm not in danger when the oxygen falls off, just to be clear, my pulse ox just dips a little low at night. I'm actually seeing the pulmonologist this week so I'm hoping he will tell me I don't need it anymore.)

So, no, not a lot of material from my dreams that makes it into stories. They're either frustratingly mundane or very hard to remember. I can't think of a time when I was writing in my dreams, either. I know some writers get lots of inspiration from dreams, but they don't really seem to help me very much.

#quickanswers #quickmeme #weird writer questions

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ddproductionsw77 · 7 years ago

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Do You Trust Me?

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing(s): Reddie

Characters: Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak

Rating: T

Description: “Do you trust me, Eds?” No. “Yeah, I guess,”

First ‘I love you’s are hard for some people... (Aged-up to high school)

Author’s Note: Dedicated to my Queen, who is always willing to talk through my different ideas with me <3

Trust wasn’t something that came naturally to Eddie Kaspbrak.

It never really had, honestly.

His brain was too full of second-guessing, paranoia, and worry for him to ever get too comfortable. Probably yet another side effect of being raised by Sonia Kaspbrak, the Queen of Helicopter Parenting and, as it turned out, Deceit. It felt impossible to just take someone at their word when his mother was always telling him the opposite…

And in his defense, how was he supposed to trust anyone after discovering aforementioned mother had also lied to his fucking face for 13 years?

You’re sick, Sweetie! You need me to take care of you!

You’re too delicate, you’ll get yourself killed!

You need your medicine, Eddie Bear! Please!

So, yeah, Eddie Kaspbrak had trust issues.

He never really trusted his friends when they told him that they wanted him around. He never put himself in positions where he’d have to solely rely on someone else. He ignored and brushed off any compliments sent his way, dismissing them all as jokes or lies.

And probably most problematic as of late, he didn’t believe Richie Tozier when the boy muttered into the dark of his bedroom that he loved him a moment ago.

They’d just been laying there in Eddie’s bed. It wasn’t unusual since they’d started dating two months ago for Richie to come over after Eddie’s mom was asleep. Eddie knew Richie hated sleeping at his own house and, well, maybe Eddie found it easier to doze off when listening to Richie’s noise.

The analog clock by Eddie’s bed displayed that is was 2:34 in the morning and Eddie could have fucking sworn that Richie had been asleep for at least the last twenty minutes. He’d stopped tracing the bones of his boyfriend’s arm so as not to disturb him and he’d been just about to drift off when he’d heard it.

“I love you.”

It was barely a breath, not even a whisper and it still made Eddie’s heart stop in his chest. He remained incredibly still, not daring to move a single inch and risk alerting Richie that he was awake.

A second later, Richie sighed almost longingly and muttered, “Maybe I’ll actually have the balls to tell you sometime, hmm, Eds? Then again, you probably already know, so…”

No!

No, Eddie did not already fucking know!

Love was… fuck, it was a big deal, right? The real deal.

Not just messing around, not just being boyfriends, not just I think I more than like you. Love meant something more than all that.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe suddenly, fear so intense he’d have gotten vertigo were he standing engulfed his brain, and he very seriously considered shoving Richie away. Maybe he could pretend to wake up from some nightmare and tell his boyfriend he wanted to be alone? Maybe he could wait until Richie really fell asleep and slip downstairs to sleep on the couch?

Eddie figured he’d be able to breathe if he were on the couch…

But he forced himself to stay put under half of Richie’s body weight.

There wasn’t a problem. Not really. Richie hadn’t technically told him anything. He’d just said it to a sleeping room as far as he knew. Eddie didn’t have to think about LOVE and all that came with that.

And so what if Richie had said it anyway? He didn’t mean it. He could think he did, could really believe the words were true, but Eddie knew that they weren’t. They just… couldn’t be.

The next morning, Eddie rolled out from under Richie the second his alarm sounded and rushed to grab clothes from his closet. He shoved his boyfriend on to his back with an annoyed sigh, “Get up. You need to go if you plan to change clothes before school.”

Richie groaned, shielding his eyes from the sun pouring from Eddie’s window, “Fuck, I swear I should just leave shit here. Running back and forth is fucking annoying.”

I love you.

A jolt of panic left Eddie breathless as he squeaked out, “No! No, you shouldn’t!”

“Whoa,” Startled, Richie looked up at him in confusion, “I was just joking…”

“Right,” Eddie muttered, turning back away, “Right, whatever, I knew that.”

After a long stretch of awkward silence, Eddie could still feel groggy, concerned eyes on him and relented with a sigh. He looked over his shoulder to indeed find Richie watching him with a raised eyebrow.

“What!?” He asked, throwing his hands up.

Richie sat up, cocking his head to the side, “Is everything okay?”

I love you.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” Eddie asked, keeping his eyes on the clothes bundled in his hand and contemplating just making a break for the bathroom down the hall so he could get dressed.

“I don’t know,” Richie shrugged before looking at Eddie even more intensely. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Eddie felt like he was under a microscope which was pretty fucking ironic since Richie hadn’t even put his goddamn glasses on yet and so could probably only make out his silhouette. Still, the feeling of suffocation came crawling back up his throat.

“You know I hate that— answering questions with questions… You need to go anyway,” He said, cringing a second later at hearing how harsh his words sounded. Quickly, he tried to amend, “I mean, because of school…”

Richie got up, slipping his glasses on, “Yeah, okay.”

He made his way over to Eddie, resting a hand on his boyfriend’s waist and leaning in for the traditional morning/see-you-later kiss that they shared every morning before Richie slipped back out the window.

Instead, Eddie’s hand came up and gently pushed him back.

“You haven’t brushed your teeth yet,” The boy mumbled before leaving the room himself, his clothes in hand, to go change in the bathroom. When he came back to the room, Richie was gone and the window was left open, blowing in chilly December air.

I love you.

Eddie was furious with himself.

He was going to let three stupid words ruin his very first, real relationship? Three words and suddenly he felt like he was drowning whenever he caught sight of Richie? They were just words! Words that didn’t really mean anything!

Still, he’d spent all day running in the opposite direction whenever he saw his boyfriend coming down the hall and inching as far away as possible in every class they shared.

Someone should just punch him in the fucking face.

He felt like he was about to explode though whenever Richie was around and he normally felt that way but this was different. There was a desperation in this panic that had never been there before.

He wanted to… say something but he didn’t know what… and he also didn’t dare to say anything for fear that it would change everything.

Eddie was a little on edge, to say the least, by the time he took his seat in Advanced Placement Chemistry beside Ben. His friend greeted him brightly, despite having just seen him a few hours ago at lunch.

Oh fuck, lunch… that had been just great, too.

Eddie had sat between Bev and Stan instead of going through the line with Richie like usual and had ignored his boyfriend’s bewildered and hurt expression the whole half hour.

“So… we must have calculated the half-life wrong because it does not match Mr. Dawson’s rate of radioactive decay,” Ben said with a sigh, tapping his pencil on the spine of his notebook.

Beside him, Eddie shrugged silently.

“I mean, I guess Dawson’s hypothesis could be wrong…” Ben baited, expecting Eddie to roll his eyes and say something like Dawson’s the actual teacher, dumbass. We’re the ones who are wrong.

He didn’t. He just nodded and said, “Maybe.”

Ben sighed and shrugged, “I can rework the proble—“

“Has Beverly ever told you she loves you?” Eddie blurted out, gripping his pencil in white knuckles and staring hard at his blank notebook page.

Ben blinked, eyebrows drawing together, “Uh, well, yeah. She’s told me she loves me.”

Eddie bit his lip and glanced up at the ceiling, looking a bit as if he hated himself for continuing but he did anyway, “And when she says it do you… do you, like, believe her?”

There was a long pause as Ben tried to put the pieces all together. Eddie had been weird all day and when Eddie was off, Richie was off — the two seemed to live on the same wavelength — and now Eddie was asking this. The taller boy cleared his throat, cheeks flushing, “Of course I do.”

“But why do you believe her?”

“Because I love her too and I know she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t mean it.”

“But, Ben, how do you know she means it?” Eddie pressed on, sounding more and more desperate by the second. He turned to his friend with terrified, unsure eyes, “What if it’s just a spur of the moment slip-up to her or a joke or a— a lie?”

Eddie cut off at the last word, just barely breathing it.

Ben watched him cautiously for a moment and contemplated how to answer. He didn’t want to pry but it felt as if he had no choice. “We, uh, we’re not really talking about Beverly are we?”

Eddie’s eyes darted away before slamming shut. With a long sigh, the boy slumped back into his chair and remained quiet. Ben tried again, “Did Richie tell you that he… loves you?”

The boy cringed and shrugged, “No, not technically, at least.”

Ben raised an eyebrow and Eddie sighed, “He thought I was asleep.”

“But you weren’t,” Ben concluded, nodding. “Oh, well, that makes it a little more complicated.”

Eddie gave a short, humorless laugh, “Yeah, just a little.”

“What makes you think he didn’t mean it? If anything, him not knowing you were listening is more evidence that he did.” Ben reasoned, leaning his elbows on the desk.

Eddie gave him a look, “When have you ever known Richie to sincerely mean anything, Ben? Hmm? Everything’s a fucking joke to him and that’s fine — I knew that when we — my point is that I know he laughs everything off, I just wish that this wasn’t something else for him to joke about.”

Ben cocked his head to the side, admitting that he did understand this about Richie, before shrugging, “Look, you know Richie better than me but… It just seems like you’re not giving him enough credit here. I see how he looks at you, Eddie, and you can’t fake that. You should at least give him the chance to say what he’s got to say when he knows you can hear it. You should listen to him.”

When the final bell rang, someone crashed into Eddie as he was crossing the parking lot toward his car. Arms wrapped around him to stop him from falling and a skateboard skidded away across the pavement.

“Shit! Sorry, I meant for that to be smoother, Eds.” Richie’s warm breath ran down Eddie’s neck in the contrasting cold air and made the boy shiver for entirely different reasons.

Shoving his boyfriend away and looking around worriedly for prying eyes, Eddie glared at Richie, “What the fuck, Trashmouth?”

Richie stepped back, glanced at his skateboard and quickly stooped to pick it up, “I don’t know, what the fuck, Eds?”

“You know I hate when you answer questions with questions!” Eddie gave the boy another annoyed look before spinning on his heel, “I have stuff to do, Richie. I don’t have time to stand here and screw around with you.”

Richie watched for a moment as Eddie walked away from him before kicking himself into gear and striving to catch up, “Can I have a ride, at least? It’s cold as balls out here and I’d like to not freeze my dick off skating home.”

Eddie bit his lip hard to stop from smiling at the dumb joke before he finally sighed and gave Richie a curt nod. He regretted it almost immediately when Richie turned to him the second he started the car and said, “Did I do something to get your panties in a twist?”

Eddie sighed, focusing on backing out of his parking space, “What would you have done?”

“For how much you hate it, you answer with questions a lot, too.” Richie mumbled before exclaiming, “See that’s what I’m saying! I mean, I’m a fucking awesome boyfriend—“

“—Okay, now wait—“

“—And I don’t think I forgot anything lately—“

“—You didn’t—“

“—And I even helped you practice that new cheerleading routine for a fucking hour last night so I don’t get why you’re pissed at me!”

“Who says I’m pissed at you?” Richie gave Eddie a look. Questions with questions, rang through the smaller boy’s head and he sighed. Squeezing the steering wheel nervously, Eddie shrugged, “I’m not.”

Richie was quiet for a long time, looking out the window before he sat up straighter in his seat, “Do you trust me, Eds?”

No.

“Yeah, I guess.” He muttered with a shrug, popping his turn signal to indicate his impending turn onto Richie’s street.

“Then when we get to my house, come inside with me,” Richie said, looking over at him. Eddie opened his mouth to argue but was hushed immediately, “My mom and dad left town today for a long weekend—a work thing for dad. No one will catch us, no one will see… Come on, Baby.”

Baby, Eddie thought, cheeks flushing, What a fucker…

He rolled into Richie’s driveway and nodded, “Fine.”

The boys made their way inside and Eddie fiddled nervously with his keys. He’d decided to leave his backpack outside in the car. Whatever grand scheme Richie had in mind, it wasn’t going to involve school work Eddie was sure. He watched his boyfriend shuck his own bag off, dropping it to the floor and leaning his skateboard on it.

The Tozier household wasn’t all that bad when Maggie and Wentworth weren’t around, Eddie had decided. When it was just him and Richie in the house, he could almost imagine a day when there wouldn’t be a Maggie or Wentworth to worry about anymore. Eddie could nearly see a day where it was just him and Richie all the time in a little house like this… cleaner, admittedly, and preferably with less empty beer bottles.

Richie turned to him, crossing his arms over his chest, and looked him up and down. Eddie knew he should be used to Richie’s gaze by now, having been the center of his attention for weeks, but he still shifted uncomfortably, “Stop it.”

“I’m looking at my boyfriend,” Richie defended, cocking an eyebrow and sighing like he was annoyed, “Didn’t know that was a federal offense now.”

“Don’t be such a baby,” Eddie snapped, rolling his eyes. “Some people prefer to not be stared at like they’re being stalked, shockingly.”

“Stalked? I’m not fucking stalking you, Eds! I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with you!”

“Can you not hear, Trashmouth? Nothing is wrong! Just drop it already!”

“I’m not dropping it! It’s not fair for you to just be mad at me and ignore me for no goddamn reason!”

“I have my reasons!”

“So you admit it then? That you were mad today and ignoring me?”

Eddie stopped, sputtering and trying to backpedal, “What? No! I— I just— Look, I came inside because you asked but if all we’re going to do is argue then I’ll just leave.”

He started toward the door but a hand caught his arm enough to stop him but purposefully gentle enough to not hurt him. He looked back at Richie and deflated. His boyfriend looked hurt, desperate for answers, and seemed to be silently pleading with him not to go.

Eddie didn’t move for a long time before to eyes dropped to the floor. Barely above a whispered, he admitted, “I heard you last night.”

Richie looked confused for a moment before realization crossed his features and he dropped Eddie’s arm, “Oh… that. That was just— I was just—”

“Kidding? Yeah, I figured.” Eddie broke off, looking anywhere but his best friend and boyfriend.

“What?” Richie asked, his voice loud and making Eddie jump and look right at him. “Eds, I wasn’t kidding. Why the fuck would I joke about that? I— I do love you.”

I love you.

Do you trust me?

I love you.

Eddie blinked and swallowed hard, thinking about reaching for his inhaler for a moment before remembering he no longer carried one.

Richie really loved him? But Richie couldn’t love him! He was Eddie Kaspbrak, the little gay boy with a homophobic mother and a list of anxieties longer than a football field.

Anxieties about germs. Anxieties about school. Anxieties about the medication he knew he didn’t need. About his mom. About his height. About his friends. About letting people down. About failing. About going out of his comfort zone. About being in a relationship for the first time. About speaking. About being ignored. About being seen. About being seen through.

About Richie. Disappointing him. Loving him and being loved by him.

Why would anyone want that?

How could anyone love that?

“No, you don’t.” Eddie shook his head, vision blurring. There was no fight in his tone, none of his usual wit or snark. He didn’t want to fight… he already knew the truth. There wasn’t a point.

“I do.” Richie argued, more adamant this time before he gave Eddie a considering look, “You… you just don’t believe me.”

“Of course I don’t. I mean, why would I? Why would you?” Eddie shrugged, clearing his burning throat. “I’m— me. You liking me was one thing and I got used to it but you can’t— you don’t—“

“I love you.”

“Stop it, Richie! I’m not fucking kidding!”

“And I’m not either, Eds! I told you before: you are not a joke to me! I meant that and I mean it when I say that I love you! I am in love you with, even when you’re whiny and annoying and don’t fucking believe me or listen to me and ignore me! I’m still in love with you!”

Eddie stood there, his brain whizzing by at a million miles an hour. His mouth was open but no words came out. He didn’t know what to say again. He wanted to believe Richie, he wanted it to be true, he craved Richie’s love like a man dying of thirst in the desert… and yet it was too daunting to admit any of that.

Richie sighed, looking away and swallowing hard.

“Well,” The lanky boy started. His voice broke and he cringed, mentally scolding himself for looking so damn pathetic, “Sorry I ruined your goddamn day, Eddie Spaghetti. You can leave now. I know how much you want to go.”

…But he didn’t want to go.

Eddie closed his mouth and glanced over his shoulder at the door before clamping his eyes and fists shut and counting to ten. When he opened his eyes, Richie was starting down the hallway, “Wait! Rich, please!”

The other boy stopped, threw his head back to the ceiling, and slowly turned with his eyebrows raised, “What, Eddie?”

No nickname… no underlying tone of understanding… it hurt but Eddie understood.

He’d been the one to push Richie away this time and he would have to be the one to mend them back together. Maybe he didn’t know how to quite yet but he didn’t have a choice. Not fixing things with Richie wasn’t an option.

Not now that he finally knew, without a doubt, that Richie was telling the truth. That Richie really did love him, even if he couldn’t understand why.

“I’m… new to this, okay?” Eddie mumbled, looking at his shoes. The white Keds looked incredibly out of place on the grimy carpet but Eddie still knew that they belonged there, standing right where they were. “I’ve never… done this before.”

Richie remained silent for once in his life, crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for the other boy to continue.

“Shit, fuck, that was dumb to say, you already know…” Eddie sighed, pinching his nose, “The fact is that not a lot of people have ever told me that. And the ones that have… I never really thought they were telling me the truth because— because—“

He groaned in frustration and tried again, struggling to keep his breathing normal, “I don’t even like me, okay? So, why would anyone ever love me? There’s nothing here,” He gestured to himself, “that’s all that great. Me being hopelessly, pathetically in love with you? Sure, that makes sense but you feeling the same… just doesn’t.”

Richie moved forward until he was close enough that Eddie could have reached out and touched him. He wanted to but he didn’t. Looking down at him with a glint in his eyes Eddie’d rarely seen before, Richie swallowed, “Say that again?”

“It doesn’t make sense for you to—“

“Not that! That was just fucking dumb,” Richie shook his head, waving his hand, “The thing before that.”

Eddie thought back for a second only to stop breathing. He hadn’t meant to say that though. And he didn’t know if he could do it again with Richie looking at him like that and nothing else to distract his mind as the words slipped out.

But what did he have to be afraid of?

Richie loves you, he thought as a reluctant smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Fiddling with his hands, he tried to sound nonchalant, “The being hopelessly, pathetically in love with you thing? Come on, Trashmouth, everyone knows—“

Arms were crushing him and a tongue was in his mouth before he even had time to finish his sentence.

Eddie groaned, reaching up to grasp Richie’s face in his previously trembling hands. He kissed back with a matching bruising force, not even caring about how dirty the ground was when Richie yanked his jacket off and tossed it to the floor. Instead, he followed his boyfriend’s lead and tugged at the zipper on Richie’s hole-y, disaster of a hoodie.

Richie got impatience and simply broke their kiss shortly to toss the thing over his head. Eddie chuckled only to be immediately silenced by the return of his boyfriend’s lips on his. Richie’s teeth grazed his lower lip and Eddie yelped into the other boy’s mouth, who took the opportunity to return his tongue to its previous battle with Eddie’s.

Realizing how much control Richie had gained in their current situation, Eddie decided it was time for a little shift. He bit back, clamping down on Richie’s lip hard enough to hurt just a little without really causing injury.

Turning them, Eddie shoved Richie away so that the other boy stumbled back to his couch, toppling over the back of it and landing on the cushions.

Richie groaned loudly, only his legs dangling over the back of the sofa in Eddie’s view, and said, “Fuck, I am so in love with you.”

The words should have scared him, but they didn’t. Not anymore.

Eddie just laughed before going to peer over the back of the couch at his boyfriend with a teasing smile. “Yeah? Well, I might be a little in love with you, too.”

“As much I love hearing you say that, shut the fuck up,” Richie ordered, grabbing Eddie and pulling him on top of him on the couch, bring him back in for another heated kiss.

They laid there, tangled up in each other and in love, for hours. They kissed, breaking occasionally only for breath and to say those words once again to each other.

I love you.

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