#eddie you two faced motherfucker. what are you lying to us about

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

ohhhhh god not Eddie's costume having his face split yellow/purple like the fucking clocks

#ohhhhh eddie. ohhhhh mr dear. oh man #my immediate first thought was “two face”. and then the clocks. and just. mmmmmm #oh boy oh boy that has to be So On Purpose #wh speculation #welcome home speculation #homebogging #absolutely unprompted #eddie you two faced motherfucker. what are you lying to us about #or do you even know? do you remember? is it purposeful or even conscious? #SHAKING HIM VIOLENTLY GIVE US YOUR SECRETS MAILMAN #k no but really what the fuck is his costume #is it supposed to be a puppety frankenstein's monster? but then whats the curly thing on his head? #im just sitting here whispering Oh No in great distress and excitement.... oh eddie....

[omegaversesteddieweek]

STEDDIE OMEGAVERSE WEEK DAY TWO: OMEGA/OMEGA or ALPHA/ALPHA -- ROUND UP

Here are all of our amazing submissions for Day Two of Steddie Omegaverse Week 2023! Find them under the read more. You can find all of these on our collection on ao3 or at the links below.

But to open my arms and give it all to you by Caroline_is_not_here

Explicit, complete, no warnings, 12.3k

Steve has always had this emptiness inside him, an emptiness that he was never able to fill, until Eddie came into his life. After all, omegas are made to live together, it's clear that no one but an omega could fill that void, but for Steve, who knows that this relationship should be nothing more than platonic, he knew it wasn't enough. Steve wanted more.

hearth in my home, heart in my chest by catknives

Teens & Up, complete, no warnings, 2.2k

Steve and Eddie have been friends forever. Steve is pretty sure he never wants to be with anyone else. Nothing, not even designations, can change that.

I Was Made for Lovin' You by HawkinsBNBG

Explicit, complete, chose not to use warnings, 8.1k

Just a good ol' story of two friends who had it bad for each other.

to build a home by Atleastwritingisfun

Teens & Up, complete, chose not to use warnings, 3.4k

Steve's failed at a lot of things in life, and without anywhere to go now - he goes to the one place he feels whole. And perhaps in that home, he finds a part of him heals that wasn't truly broken in the first place. aka Steve gets kicked out of the house and ends up living with the Munsons.

Track Service by PersonalLies (BleachFox)

Explicit, complete, no warnings, 4.1k

Steve was panting, sweat dripping down his face as he ran laps in the blistering summer heat. The school track was mostly deserted this time, the darkening sky doing nothing to relieve the day's humidity. Feet aching, heart pounding, Steve loved the rush that came from running. He’d already done several laps, the burn starting to become uncomfortable as he neared the school again. As he passed the bleachers, the wind began blowing in his face, and although it was refreshing, it also made his pace falter. Freshly cut grass, the smell of the woods… Steve could feel his teeth sharpening, aching to bite, and he glanced around as he slowed to a stop at the dirt line. The scent was starting to fade, so he began running back up the track in the opposite direction, following the scent now. It was coming from behind the bleachers, and as he rounded the end, he found Eddie Munson smoking beneath them. Eddie jumped at his sudden appearance, and the tantalizing scent soured. “Harrington?”

How to Fool an Alpha Into Dropping an Outrageous Sum of Money on your Lying Ass (For Depserate Motherfuckers Only) by hullosweetpea

Mature, complete, no warnings, 1.8k

1. Find a stack of “Past Due” bills from the gas, water, and electric companies in the kitchen hidden in an old Ritz tin. 2. Curse your uncle for not telling you. 3. Do the math. It’s more than your paycheck from Melvald’s and your side gig of selling ditch weed to high schoolers and burnouts can afford. 4. Roll a joint with your best weed. Smoke yourself straight into the stratosphere. 5. Come up with a beautiful plan. 6. Recruit long-time best friend into said plan. 7. Pick up alpha suppressants and omega scent enhancers from your supplier. 8. Open a new bank account. 9. Write your uncle an apology note. You’ll be back in a month or two. 10. Drive to Chicago to make the worst (best) decision of your life.

Bring Me Back Down (Safe in Your Arms) by LenjaminButton

Teens & Up, complete, no warnings, 1.6k

Steve?” Dustin’s voice was hesitant as he crouched nearby, looking over the scene with worried eyes, “Is he okay?” “He’s scared.” He murmured back, not pausing in the way he was petting through Eddie’s hair, “He’s kinda…feral at the moment.”

this thing that builds by vivisea

Teens & Up, complete, no warnings, 5.9k

“They need to move me to his room,” Steve says. Joyce’s eyebrows jump toward her bangs. “What?” “We learned about it in my EMT course. If his pack isn’t here and the doctors can’t administer a hormonal treatment, the next-best thing is nesting with another omega. Usually it'd be someone close to him, but… we have to try.” OR Eddie Munson drops in the hospital. Luckily, he’s not the only omega in the Party.

But to open my arms and give it all to you by Caroline_is_not_here

Explicit, complete, no warnings, 12.3k

Steve has always had this emptiness inside him, an emptiness that he was never able to fill, until Eddie came into his life. After all, omegas are made to live together, it's clear that no one but an omega could fill that void, but for Steve, who knows that this relationship should be nothing more than platonic, he knew it wasn't enough. Steve wanted more. Steve wanted a taboo.

Prodigious birth of love it is to me, that I must love a loathed enemy. by ohstars

Mature, complete, no warnings, 1.7k

Steve Harrington could have any omega he wants at Hawkins High, but not the man he really loves.

Nothing Tastes Better by StarsHideYourFires

Mature, complete, no warnings, 1.6k

Wayne’s tired. He just worked a double and he’s ready to hit the hay. Only problem is he’s come home to a house stinking of Omega in heat and it sure as hell shouldn’t be Eddie. A look at love through the lens of Eddie Munson and the two most important men in his life.

make for me a soft universe by griesly

Explicit, complete, no warnings, 9.1k

When Eddie gets tapped to check in on a very ill Steve, he expects the flu - not touch-sickness. That, at least, Eddie can do something about.

Twitter Threads:

@ paopu_kudamono's Day 2 Thread @ andalways7's Day 2 Thread

Thanks to all of our amazing contributors this past week!!

#steddieomegaverseweek #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie week #stranger things #stranger things fic

[innermuse24]

SymBrock Fanfic: 'Symbosis Entwined Like Thorns of a Rose Wrapping Around One's Body, But Not Harming One' or  'Love Thy Venom'

----------------- Summary:

Symbiosis - interaction between two different organisms living in close physical association, typically to the advantage of both.

This is what Venom and Eddie have and this is their story on how it become more.

---------------------------

Notes:

Eddie Brock and Venom Relationship

A/B/O dynamics e.g Venom is an Alpha Symbiote and so Eddie to him is an Omega

Eddie becomes a Omega for Venom

Eddie still keeps in touch with Annie

Venom speak in in bold italics when it Eddie Brock's P.O.V and normal italics when Venom's P.O.V

Sexaul intercourse or Mating

Mpreg

Violence, Gore and Heads being bitten off in future chapters to be written up

Carnage will make a appearance e.g. the person that we all saw at the end of the film that Eddie met in the San Quentin Prison

---------------------------

Part 1 - Prologue: 'An Alpha always Protects their Omega, even if Both are being Hunted by another Predator' ---------------

Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

Eddie.

"Hmmm…..Five more minutes, please?…"

EDDIE!!!!

Venom shouting that in my ear at about 5 telepathically in my head makes me shoot up in my nice, warm cosy bed with shout of "CHRIST SAKES, YOU BLOOMING MOTHERFUCKER!!!" then lay back down, hearing him shifting to lean over me.

His symbotiate body rippling like ink in water or oil spreading outwards because literally it was so fluid and almost to mind seductive-looking then ruffling one hand through my hair, yawn to wake myself up and check the time seeing it is about 6:03 in the morning with sunlight filtering through a gap in the curtains of where I now live.

I had moved to nice street house, close to Annie and sold the the Apartment - the old one, that had got trashed literally after escaping from Carlton's goons and Venom well being what he was being the one who had done the damaging in the first place.

Calmly I look up at him. He soon leans down, nuzzling affectionately against my cheek - which truth be told he been doing a lot and without any explanation or reason why - and licking my lips to wet them decide to test myself to see how Venom will react to it.

Turning my face, I kiss him on the cheek lightly and pull back, feeling him peel away from me in the process. This surprises me at the action, because previously he just said "Hungry" when I had done that once and I would get us something both to eat then watch him now solidify until becoming a skinny version of himself almost.

Lying there seeming to want to say something to me in almost could I even say seductive 'Come-hither' pose.

"What's wrong? Venom, talk me to me." I ask, sitting on the side of the bed and he seems to be complementing what do next then his clawed hands reach up to take hold of both of my cheeks.

I'm pulled closer to him, while he seems to be trembling slightly like whatever he is feeling is frightening him him and it is me who makes the first move pressing my lips against his to test his reaction then feel him kiss me back, lifting me up onto my knees so were chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis.

He makes the sweetest mewls in the kissing, when I change position each-time to deepen it and flicking my tongue over his lips feel him open his mouth as I do the same for him then his very long tongue entwines with mine.

It becomes slow dance of exotic, strange harmony as saliva is either exchanged or dribbles down the side of our mouths and yet, neither of us are wanting to stop what were doing even when their is knock on the front door followed by shout of "PIZZA DELIVERY!!! HELLO, IS ANYONE IN!!! ALRIGHT I'LL LEAVE IT ON THE DOORSTEP." then Venom purrs softly in our kissing, grabbing my ass-cheeks with both hands and giving them a tight squeeze making me release my lips to moan heavily at the action of it.

He sits back, pulling me down into his lap and begins to rip of the t-shirt and boxers to shreds until I'm bare for him then moves one hand between my ass-cheeks where strangely I feel some kind of strange wetness!!!….No, Eddie….it feels more like slickness…..Maybe Venom will know….starting to seep out of my puckered entrance to trickle down the inside of my thighs.

"Eddie. Omega." He purrs out, making me in some strange way understand because of what and where he came from as he calmly and gently, lifts me up slightly as I decide to look down seeing the erect cock he has a bead of what could pre-cum already forming.

Slipping a hand down, I touch it gently hearing him purr softly and wonder what would it be like to taste - the pre-cum - or have it in my mouth to lick, suck and swirl my tongue around then he moves my hand out the way, going back to spreading both my ass-cheeks to expose the gaping, twitching leaking pucker with slickness dribbling out of it.

He slams me down hard, causing me to arch my back slightly with an exclamation of "OH GOD, VEN…OM!!!" at the feel of him entering his cock into me in one single thrust then lower my head to look down at him, seeing only…..Love for me.

"Does it hurt?"

"No….it feels really good actually. You can move. I won't break, Parasite."

"You are going regret saying that word to your Alpha."

"Then you better punish your….naughty Omega, then Alpha."

"Hmm….let's see how many times I can make you cum and scream in pleasure than."

------------------------------------

Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

"Hey, Mrs. Chen."

"Eddie, did you bring Ve-Ve?"

"Here I am."

Mrs. Chen smiles at the sight of seeing Venom again, when he appears from out of my shoulder throwing him some of her home-baked chocolate cookies - one thing he loved eating, along with biting of heads of bad guys we stumbled into or upon or they stumbled upon us - then scratches under his chin - another thing he liked as well - making him purr heavily in delight.

"What you been doing, Eddie? You look…well….well-fucked to be said." She asks me, making me blush to high heaven and doing a pretend coughing fit as memories of Venom filling me again and again until I was as she just said "Well-fucked" by him into the mattress come to the forefront of my mind.

This causes Venom to turn a bright shade of pink, quickly giving an excuse by eating more of the cookies hearing the shop bell gently tinkling as a another customer comes in making him quickly go back into my body.

Grabbing the plate, I make it look I was eating the cookies and take a bite out of one, finding them surprisely better than supermarket ones as old man with salt and pepper hair, plus glasses as small dog on a lead keeps close to them.

"The usual, Mrs. Chen." They say, making her smile softly and get some packet of custard creams and teabags from behind the counter, while finishing off the last cookie decide to head home.

"Thanks for the cookies, Mrs. Chen." I say, handing her back the plate and head out of the shop into the busy street where people are going back and forth their daily lives, while I head in the direction of home.

Eddie, were being followed.

Venom saying that in my head, makes me go on full-alert mode feeling him rippling slightly under my skin like water waiting to burst out of dam and keep on walking reaching for my phone to make it seem I'm just getting a phone-call from a friend and answering it.

"Yeah. Oh, what? Really, No way, man…just talking about that last night with my neighbour. Yeah, big shit wasn't it. Hmmm…hmm….I hear you."

Turn to the left.

Doing as Venom says, I quickly turn to the left and sink into an alleyway filled with darkness has the person passes by making me stiffen when I feel Venom coming out of my shoulder, inhaling silently their passing scent then satisfied they have gone slips back into my body.

I go to step out the alleyway when suddenly bloodcurdling scream fills the empty silence and quickly running out see a sight that makes me look in shock and how was it possible.

Crimson, pulsating and writhing mass looking like Venom only the vibes coming off them like literally it was like whoever was the Host of this Symbotiate was mad as they grab another person tearing them apart to gorge on them, licking their lips with long forked tongue.

"Mask." I find myself saying, feeling Venom shoot out and ripple over my body to fully cover me as I sink downwards into like I'm falling through water allowing myself to be drag down into the gaping maw below in the abyss.

--------------------

Venom/ Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

We open our eyes, looking at the Crimson Symbotiate in front of us.

They writhe and pulsate, turning to face me followed by licking their lips clean of the spilled blood and grab another victim licking their face with their long tongue causing a whimper to come from the person they hold tightly in their grip then fling them in front of S.W.A.T causing it to career into at the same-time the Crimson symbotiate slams into us hard.

An explosion of crimson and black happens, followed by snarling at them with fangs bared and saliva forming while forming sharp claws to rip them off our chest to slam them down on the pavement as they peel back the mask of their face to reveal who they are to us.

"Hello, Venom."

We open our eyes, looking at the Crimson Symbiote in front of us.

They writhe and pulsate, turning to face me followed by licking their lips clean of the spilled blood and grab another victim licking their face with their long tongue causing a whimper to come from the person they hold tightly in their grip then fling them in front of the S.W.A.T van causing it to career into at the same-time the Crimson symbotiate slams into us hard.

An explosion of crimson and black happens, followed by snarling at them with fangs bared and saliva forming while forming sharp claws to rip them off our chest to slam them down on the pavement as they peel back the mask of their face to reveal who they are to us.

We wrench free from them. They slowly get up, walking up to us while a red claw slowly touches our chest and strokes downwards as they grin up at us then bring a long tongue upwards to lick some blood that splattered onto our cheek at some point, making us both flinch at this action.

“Enough.” We growl out, grabbing hold of their shoulders to push them back and away from us only for the crimson to start mixing with us and they press closer to us - creating a mixed, writhing mass of jet-black and crimson, while we try to get free.

"I don't think so. I've been looking for you...." They hiss out, long forked tongue flickering out heavily, followed by bringing up their clawed hands to cup our cheeks heavily dragging the claws down as we hear Eddie screaming internally when blood begins to trickle down our cheeks.

Hearing our Omega screaming in pain, we immediately block out everything around us to try and reach out only to be suddenly wrenched away from him by a sudden force.

--------------------------------

Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

Being flung away from Venom, I feel his ink-like tendrils reaching out to me only for something to slam away from them hard it sends me flying into a restaurant window where people scatter inside, when I land heavily on the restaurant floor with bits of shattered glass around me, splintered wood and China plates smashed into small white pieces.

Weakly lifting my head, the sight out the shattered restaurant window shows the black fluid-ness of Venom being forced to mix with the crimson symbotiate in such a way it makes me grab a shard of glass gripping it tightly when I clambered out of the shattered resident window feeling blood starting to trickle down the palm of my hand due to how tightly I’m gripping the glass shard.

Approaching the writhing mass of crimson and inky black, there is no second thoughts as I bring the glass shard down into the crimson symbiote's neck hearing it giving a deadly screech of pain when I do so, followed by whirling around to confront who had stabbed it allowing for Venom to wrench free, lunging towards me to roll me out of the way when it slams a crimson barbed tentacle down where I had been standing.

Holding me close to his chest, Venom begins run heavily heading towards an alleyway where he jumps up to the rooftops causing me to grip him tightly being slightly afraid of heights hearing not far behind the other symbotiate starting to follow.

------------------------------------

Eddie…..?

“I’m alright…..just…”

Tailing off, I find myself being laid down on the altar steps of an abandoned church, above the rafters covered in cobwebs which billow slightly back and forth due to breeze coming through holes in the roof and above us there is a intact circular, ornate stained glass window of many coloured hues.

His large, clawed hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, sifting through my hair making a trilling Omegan purr – something I had discovered during our Mating that I could form when being appreciated by my Alpha – which makes him lean downwards to start scent-marking me heavily, coating me in his rich, musky scent to indicate to another Alpha I was his and only his.

Bringing my hands to place around his shoulders, soft breathless mewls, gasps and pants begin to fill the empty space as his long tongue trails up and down my neck, causing me to tilt my head backwards to expose it to him more.

At the moment during this short moment of peace, he rolls us both so I'm straddling him where he gives soft nips to my throat - marking me - until pulling back to rest his forehead against mine then yawning heavily, move to lay my head on his chest feeling him wrap his tendrils around me to keep me in his embrace. 

There was something about Crimson Symbiote which had felt familiar - like they were someone I knew - and yet, I couldn't remember at the moment who they reminded me off. 

A clawed hand massaging my head soothes me, hearing myself making a trilling sleepy purr before slipping my eyes close. 

--------------------------------------

Sitting on a rooftop of some apartments, which are across the street from the church bearing a stained circular, ornate stained glass window the Crimson Symbiote watches silently where it can tell where it's prey is within. 

A sweet, fertile Omega with such a rich scent it makes them salivate at the thought of capturing them. The opportunity was to much to miss, even if they had an Alpha already protecting them.

The black Symbiote it had heard rumours about from various sources, but to see who was bonded to it made them heat up in such a way it felt like Hunting for Prey. 

Soon the crimson mask pulls back slightly revealing behind it a face of a someone who knew Eddie Brock very much from reading the journalist's articles which the man had written and watching him go about his daily life, alongside....the black Symbiote. 

A lightening flash illuminates their face, revealing only briefly that of...Cletus Kasady - a serial killer - smirking in delight before the crimson mask covers his face once more, a guttural hiss escaping with fangs forming at the thrill of....continuing the Hunt which had started. 

----------------------------

 For @apastandfuturenerd, @avidreadr2004, @thewitchofstjohns, plus any other Symbrock fans out there

#symbrock fanfic #eddie brock/venom symbiote #Emotional angst #a/b/o dynamics #Alpha Venom #Omega Eddie Brock #Protective Venom #reassurance #Nesting #symbrock #Other additional tags to be added #Marvel Fic Collection (1 of ?)

[potterbite]

falling slowly

five times people found out about eddie changing his will, seeing right through him, and the one time they both admitted what it meant. on ao3

Sometimes, Eddie’s confused when he’s called rude— or on one memorable occasion; a motherfucking shitface —because most of the time he only wants to make other people happy. Sure, that’s not always healthy either, but rude? No. So whenever it happens, it puzzles him a great deal, never quite understanding exactly what was done or said wrong.

On this occasion though, he has no problems seeing how he’s at fault. 

“Are you being an ass on purpose or is it for my benefit alone?” Ana spits, and he can’t really blame her for looking as if she wants to punch him in the face. 

The thing is, he’s been meaning to end things with her for ages— since before the shooting six weeks ago —but he can never find the right moment. Or, rather, timing is right but the words get stuck in his throat, fire burning through all of them until nothing but ashes and a fresh smile remains.  

The irritation he feels for himself bleeds through onto her, staining their conversations, all of them becoming stiff, sometimes as if two strangers talked. And he wants to get out of there, and he wants to stay with her forever just to bask in the easiness of it all, and he wants to kiss her to not have to say anything at all, and he wants her to end it so he doesn’t have to.

So when she took a stray potato from his plate and said, chewing, that maybe she should spend more time with Christopher in case Eddie ever had to work late, because that way she could help, and wouldn’t it be useful if the boy knew her better— well Eddie just lost his head completely. 

“Why? Carla or Buck can do that.” He heard the tone of his own voice, the acid not quite coming through, and he had wished it did. The coward in him had made him frown down at the empty plate to avoid meeting her eyes, instead looking at the remaining sauce for the two pieces of potato he’d saved for just that. Ana had taken them without asking. It wasn’t a big deal, and he didn’t mind sharing his food, and he was full anyway— but damn it, he had wanted those last potatoes for himself.

She laughed at his words, soft and easily. “Is Buck honestly the best option? He seems reckless.”

And at this, something had flashed before Eddie’s eyes, red and dangerous, and the words tasted like bile even before they left his lips. “Buck is Christopher’s legal guardian if something ever happens to me.”

This sentence acted as some kind of catalyst for their first— and only —fight, vicious words thrown back and forth in a battle neither seemed to win, but both wanted to end. 

So no, Eddie couldn’t blame Ana for calling him an ass. It’s also the very thing that casts him back into the correct plane of reality, a place where he prides himself in being a decent human being, someone his son can look up to. 

He forces himself to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times. “W-what?”

“I said I’m sorry. For what I said and for not telling you.”

“I’m sorry too.” Her shoulders sag, and just like that this is the end between them and he knows he’s a coward for letting it be. “And for what it’s worth, you really should tell him.”

Abruptly, as if they’ve mutually agreed upon it, they go to the hallway where he reaches for the jacket he hung there an hour earlier. “I never wanted it to end this way.” This is the truth. 

“Me neither.” He can’t tell if she means it or not. 

“And I have told him,” he continues as he opens the front door, feeling the breeze from the warm night on his face. He’s about to let go of the handle when Ana’s hand closes over his.

“That’s not what I meant.”

She closes the door before he has the time to think of something to say— but honestly there’s nothing more to add. 

***

Eddie doesn’t tell anyone about the break-up. Not immediately anyway. It’s not that he regrets it, or feels sad about it; he’s not even all that remorseful about the way it went down. 

But almost a week later, it comes up when he and Chimney are alone in the kitchen, the others dozing by the tv. 

“Hey, Maddie is feeling better so I thought that maybe you and Ana want to come over this weekend? You can bring Chris.“

“Ah.” He scratches himself by the ear to buy some time, which is probably what tips Chim off. 

“Wait, are you not - ?”

Eddie flicks his eyes around the loft, but no one is close enough to overhear them anyway. “Nah, we broke up last week.”

“I’m sorry man.” Chim puts a gentle hand on his left shoulder and gives him a smile. “Are you okay?”

Eddie nods, because he is. “Yeah. It hasn’t been all that good since before the shooting to tell you the truth, and then we had a major fight after I told her that Buck will be the legal guardian of Chris if anything should happen to me.”

Almost a full minute goes by where Chim just stares open-mouthed at him, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do or say so he stays still, afraid of the gleeful surprise on Chim’s face.��

Finally, Chim blinks a couple of times. “Can I be there when you tell Hen?”

“Why?” Eddie frowns deep, not at all what he expected Chim to say. 

“Trust me. She can say what I can’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

At this, Chim gets a sympathetic smile on his face. “Oh, I know you don’t.”

And he goes to join the others. 

***

To his credit, Chim doesn’t appear to tell Hen what he and Eddie discussed. Unfortunately for Eddie, this means that he doesn’t get a chance to understand what Chim meant. Well, technically, he could just tell Hen and find out for himself, but he did keep this quiet for more than a year— and it was never an active choice, he just didn’t feel as if someone else needed to know, not even Buck at first (which, looking back, might’ve been an oversight on his part)— so speaking up about it now, without being prompted, seems strange, the words falling flat on his tongue. 

However, not even three days after telling Chimney, the moment presents itself in the form of Buck. 

Eddie, Hen and Chim are eating, their shift about to start, when Buck practically throws his entire body towards an available chair, slamming his ankle into one of the table legs, followed by some loud cursing.

As Eddie practically hears the collective eye roll from Chim and Hen, he chuckles. “You know, some of those words are illegal.”

“Ha ha,” Buck groans in response. “Don’t worry, when I have to raise Chris by myself, I’ll make sure he knows them all. I take my guardianship very seriously.” 

There’s a thump, and Eddie looks at Hen; the fork is dangling in the breeze of her open mouth, the food that was obviously just on it lying in the middle of her almost empty plate. 

 “Say what now?” One of her eyebrows is dangerously high up on her forehead. 

Buck looks comically from her, to Eddie, to Chim, and back again. “Um, yeah,” is all he replies. 

Sadly, this means Hen turns to Eddie instead, and he really wishes it weren’t so but he can feel himself shrink under her gaze. “Are you telling me you made Buck the legal guardian of your kid if something happened to you?” 

“No, Buck told you that,” he jokes, but not a muscle in her face reacts. “Yes, that’s what’ll happen if I die.”

She looks thoughtful— scarily so —as her eyes flits between him and Buck; Eddie can almost feel Chim vibrating in the chair next to his own. 

“I should’ve caught on sooner,” she says eventually.

“What?” Eddie’s dry mouth asks even though he doesn’t want to hear the answer. Buck, apparently, is more interested in eating than this conversation and starts picking stuff from Eddie’s plate. Somehow, Eddie doesn’t care. 

Hen smirks, and points a finger between him and Buck, and Eddie can feel his eyes bulging, feel the strange beating of his heart in his own ears, the sweat starting on his palms, and Hen’s smirk turns into an actual smile. 

She doesn’t elaborate, and when Buck looks up from the platter less than a minute later he seems oblivious to the exchange that has happened. 

As the bell goes off and they head toward the truck, Eddie dries his hands on his thighs and drowns out what’s going on inside his head; he’s too scared of all those things he already knows to be true, almost spoken out loud in words he does not yet have. 

***

By the time they get back to the station, Eddie has already figured out he needs to tell Bobby about this; it’s only a matter of time until someone slips up and Eddie really wants to be the one to tell his captain this. Not that he thinks it’s a big deal, but he’d feel weird about it if Bobby heard it from the probie. 

He knocks twice on the doorframe to Bobby’s office. Both of them have taken a shower and had something to eat, enjoying the blissful quiet between calls. 

Bobby looks up at Eddie over the brim of paper he’s holding. “Eddie! What can I do for you?”

Eddie, not knowing what to do with his hands, puts them in the pocket of his pants and takes a few steps into the room, making sure the door is closed. “I - uh, I wanted to talk to you about my will,” he starts.

Bobby nods, opening a cabinet next to the desk to look through some folders. “Have you changed it again since last year?”

Eddie just gapes. “What?”

“I have the copy in here somewhere,” Bobby mutters to himself. “Aha! There it is.” He presents the paper to Eddie, who accepts it. Sure enough, there’s a copy of the will he wrote after the last accident. 

“I didn’t know you had this.”

“Your attorney sent it to me. He figured since you gave me the old one, you’d want me to have the new one as well.”

Eddie nods.

“What did you want to tell me about the will?” Bobby looks so concerned that Eddie can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes him.

“Nothing. I wanted you to know about Buck, that's all.”

“Ah.” Those soul gazing eyes locks onto Eddie and he squirms. “I already know.”

Lost for anything to say to this, Eddie sinks down to the closest chair and they sit together in silence until he no longer feels as if those carefully constructed walls he built to contain all he has inside for Buck is crumbling down around him. Soon he’ll be standing in the ruins of a former fortress and the only one left to tell is Buck. Eddie’s just not sure he has the courage. 

***

Chris was the first one Eddie told, before he even signed the papers or anything. It just didn’t sit right with him to take this decision away from the boy. For weeks and weeks Eddie thought about the best way to bring it up, trying to come up with replies for all plausible scenarios. 

It was a Wednesday when he finally took the plunge.

“Hey buddy, can I ask you something?”

Chris had nodded happily. “What Dad?” 

“If I didn’t come home one day, if something bad happened to me, how do you feel about Buck taking care of you?”

Chris didn’t even think about it. Instead, he frowned deeply. “If you’re not here, why wouldn’t I live with Buck? He always takes care of us.”

Eddie had almost laughed with relief, not having foreseen this easiness at all. He ruffled Chris' hair and said, “No, you’re right. I agree.”

They didn’t talk about it again. 

***

It’s been almost three weeks since his break-up with Ana, and he still hasn’t told Buck. By now, he’s probably the only one that hasn’t figured it out, but Eddie doesn’t mind. In fact, he steers clear of relationship talk when they hang out; he doesn’t want to hear about how fantastic Taylor is, or what new adventures they’ve been up to. 

Strangely, it’s Bobby of all people that tells Buck. Or maybe Bobby tells Eddie, he’s not really sure. 

They find Bobby cooking when they start a long shift, all of them gliding towards the whiff of glorious food. 

“What’s the occasion?” Buck asks as he steals a green bean. 

“Nothing really. Just a happy meal with family.” Bobby stirs the giant pot and adds some spices. “With all the break-ups happening around here, I’m almost worried it’s contagious so I figured we needed an easy dinner together.” 

Eddie stiffens, but curiously enough so does Buck, shoulders rigid and face neutral. Instead, it’s Chim that speaks next. “What do you mean? Who else has broken up?”

“Well, Pannikar and his boyfriend, Eddie and Ana, and now Buck and Taylor,” Bobby says, gesturing towards each of them in turn. Everyone nods, as if nothing he said is brand new information. 

“You and Ana broke up?” The words are almost as quiet as a whisper, meant for Eddie alone while the rest set the table. 

Eddie nods. “You broke up with Taylor?”

“Yeah. Or we both did, I’m not sure.” He gets a deep frown between his eyebrows and the tips of Eddie’s fingers itch to smooth it out. He doesn’t. “We’re still friends though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Buck tilts his head a little bit to the right, gazing at Eddie as if he’s a riddle to solve. 

Eddie shrugs. Of course, he knows very well why he didn’t say something to Buck but he can’t tell his best friend that— or can he?

Acting on pure impulse, he takes hold of Buck’s hand and drags him away from the kitchen, down the stairs and into their bunk room. He closes the door behind them, leaning on it, and turns to look at the other man; Buck is standing just out of arm's reach. In Eddie’s stomach someone is dancing the conga in circles, begging him to get the hell out of there before he says too much and ruins it all. He ignores this, swallowing hard. 

“Here’s the thing. I’ve been waiting for the right words to come to me, to figure out how to tell you what is apparently very obvious to everyone else. I mean, if I just mention how I changed my will, they all get this look in their eyes, and I know they know. And I don’t understand how you still don’t when I feel as if it’s written on my face.”

Buck is silent, and Eddie can’t even be sure his ramble made any sense whatsoever. He rests the back of his head against the door, waiting for Buck to say something, anything. The urge to get out of there is overwhelming, but the sound of Buck’s breathing is as well— harsh and quick breaths, shallow and full of emotions Eddie can’t place.

“I broke up with Taylor because I think I’m more into you than her,” Buck blurts suddenly, his eyes widening as if he never meant to say any of it. 

An urge to laugh bubbles up inside him, but he presses it down. “Buck.” The other man’s eyes snap to his. “I made you the sole guardian of my kid if I die.”

Eddie can’t tell who moves first— maybe they drift at the same time, two planets on a collision course — but somehow they meet in the middle, lips crashing together until it feels as if they’re fused together as one. He nibbles gently at Buck’s bottom lip, a gesture that makes Buck practically purr in response; Eddie can feel the vibration of it underneath his fingers, lying in a soft grip around Buck’s throat. 

In retaliation— reward? —Buck shuffles them back until Eddie hits the wall with a soft thump, and the quiet groan that escapes him is out of his control honestly. He can’t believe he ever thought that what he had with Ana was enough, not when this has been here the whole time, just waiting beneath the surface for someone to make the first move. 

When the alarm goes off, they don’t separate immediately; instead they sigh apart, Buck letting his forehead fall until it meets Eddie’s. 

“We really should talk about this,” Buck says, and he’s so close that his breath sends shivers across Eddie’s body. 

“Mhm,” Eddie agrees, opening his eyes to meet Buck’s. “But there will be plenty of time for that later.”

(When they get to the truck, Hen smirks at the pair of them when they get in. Eddie pointedly ignores her, but when his gaze lands on Buck he has to bite the inside of his cheek so as not to smile wide enough to crack his head in two.)

(They get around to talking. Later.)

#buddie #buddie fic #911 #my writing #i am weak for some good old 5+1 fics #911 on fox

[trashdeviant]

Chapter 2

Venom/Eddie x Reader

Tw: cussing

Your fists are trembling before you realize that you were clenching them enough to dig into the palm of your hands. As much as you considered laying your hands down flat to calm down, you could only unclench them in a gesture of stress before balling them up again. You had barely made it outside of the building when you rested your back against the wall.

“Fuck…” You rasp.

It was so infuriating when he decided to come at you with this passive-aggressive shit. Almost like he saw you as the problem. He loved Jessie and really missed having that shit-faced motherfucker in your life. Raf acts as if you betrayed him when you decide that you never wanted to come in contact with that childish low-life. You had plenty of names for Jess, but you really needed to shake them out of your head for now. This is about Raf stepping out of line with you.

Good. Great. Wonderful.

You felt like so much shit at the moment. Whenever things got rough you would always storm into the apartment to hug him and cuddle until he helped you calm down. A searing hot tear glided down your cheek, although your face was emotionless. It hurts.

Hurts to know that you couldn’t go to him this time. This is what you get when you refuse to spend time outside of your home. You’re not really sure how long this was going to last either. But you were as stubborn as you were torn between apologizing and finding another place to sleep tonight.

Finally your brows invert in anguish and you look up in a poor attempt to stop the tears from pouring. Your arms felt as heavy as your chest. It’s times like these that make you wonder if Raf even liked being your friend.

“You don’t get to fucking call me that…” It was more of a breath than a whisper, but it was an effort to try to keep youself from spiralling into thoughts that degraded you into thinking this was all your fault and that you were a terrible person.

Maybe you were, but at the moment you weren’t in the mood to hear it from yourself. Growing up you had to teach yourself to keep out of that spiral or you would do something drastic. It doesn’t always succeed and yet it was at least an effort being made.

This time your brows furrow as you aggressively wipe away tears on either side of your face before cracking your knuckles. You need to try to ground yourself and shake off some bad thoughts before you could hear them. That sounded weird. Now you rush out of the area to keep your mind running just as you were rather than focus on the bad thoughts. Sometimes you would pace around the apartment when you were alone just to think of things to defend yourself or think up whatever you could for a distraction. The latter being less useful than the first.

Right now you were jogging across the street to head to whatever seemed familiar. You had to be careful as you had the tendency to get side tracked and get a little lost in a street you rarely traveled.

Raf had no place to guilt trip you into even being friends with someone that cheated on you. Jess could never gather enough humanity to even acknowledge what you had gone through in that relationship. ‘Yeah I understand your decision…’ you scoff at the thought. Raf told you all sorts of shit like that after the break up. A few months later and Raf develops this little habit of scaring off anyone you would bring around him and later talk up your ex like a car salesman. You still haven’t felt like you needed to talk to Jess. As a matter of fact, you owed neither of them anything. Regardless of the fact that you three used to be an inseparable trio.

You grit your teeth.

Rafael is a selfish naive piece of shit if he thinks he will ever get you to crack and open up your life to that whore. You are not obligated to talk to them; that is that. If Raf can’t come to peace with you cutting a whole motherfucker out of your life then that was his own problem.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” You grunted silently to yourself-punching a nearby surface that seemed to be a wall.

The mere voice in your head that reminded you of his constant excuse made you cringe in a sudden wave of anger. ‘I’m stuck in the middle’, was short for, “You’re not being fair! Stop being the problem and make up with Jess so I can enjoy myself in the presence of both of you!”

First of all-Raf isn’t in the middle of anything! He is a grown man and can go see Jessie whenever he wants to or even invite him in while you’re out! He is the only one making everything such a big deal. ‘News flash, Raffie, you’re no peacemaker here!’, your blood boils at the fact that he couldn’t treat you two as separate friends. Even Jess was able to understand you wanted no part of them!

You cut people out of your life for a reason! Not only did they cheat on you, but was generally an asshole too! Just because Raf can’t gather the strength to end something completely does not mean you had to adapt to what he wanted! It is not illegal to cut someone out of your life and it could be perfectly healthy for you, even! Regardless if your circle has only gotten smaller and smaller over the years...

“I don’t need any of that shit! If I have to I’ll move, Raf!” Your voice hissing his nickname,”If you can’t live without that bitch and me then I’ll do you the fucking favor of cutting myself out of your life! Who the fuck says I need either of you!?”

You stop dead in your tracks and look down at your shoes. There was guilt and suffering swelling inside of you. You had only said that because you couldn’t think of any other way out of it than having him hate you. Hot streaks of tears return as you lower yourself into a crouch and hold your head. You don’t bother to fight the urge to pull your hair.

‘I do-I need you…’

A pathetic plea that lands on nobody’s ears. This was going to be the death of you if you keep going down this path. The sun was beginning to set. Orange and pink flourishes across the skies. Sobs rake through your body as you hide yourself into the alleyway. What the literal fuck? You could knock a man into a coma and here you were weeping like a lonely child. ‘You’re a selfish piece of shit-go to hell-he tries hard for you and here you are talking shit-what kind of friend are you-what kind of a sibling-a waste of a contact-a waste of a life-a bastard-motherfucking piece of-’

Your heart was stuck in a traffic of emotions. The selfish asshole doesn’t realize how badly you wish it could go back to the way it was too if it made things any easier. But like hell if you were going to ruin yourself again for the sake of his comfort. ‘Be the bigger person’ was such a load of bullshit. A ticket for the other to avoid consequence if he asked you.

A nervous hand is offered to your trembling form before you even realize there was anyone walking towards you, “What are you doing in here?”, he begins his question with your name, which was enough for you to snap your head up at him. ‘Eddie?’ You had forgotten how burnt up your eyes must have looked. Dropping your head in embarrassment you hide your bruised up features and take his hand. “Not having a good night.” Your own voice repulses you and you have to stop yourself at choking up as another wave of self-loathing thoughts creep up on you.

There was no lying to him considering you couldn’t think of a good cover story for crying in an alley in the dark. The least you could do was keep it vague to spare him from listening to you gripe about something so irrelevant to him.

“Need me to walk you home?” Panic surges through you for less than a second at his question.

“No! No-thank you. Uh…” You mentally shake yourself before you continue, ”Um, do you mind if we just walk to your place?”

A sigh leaves you when you relish in his nod. You fail to notice how he had helped you up and draped his jacket over your still trembling body as you walked. Eddie most likely thought you were shaking from the cold rather than your little meltdown. How cute.

After a moment of nothingness that leaked into you like acid, you decide to open your mouth despite how your sore throat protests, “Thank you, Eddie.”

“It’s no problem.” He says it so casually it almost makes you nauseated with guilt.

There was another silent pause, “So…” You began, “How did you… find me?” That insinuated that he was looking for you, but you didn’t know what else to say after half of that question had already left your mouth.

He purses his lips for a second. Then proceeded to do something that finally had you smile at him and even muffle the wrenching ache in your heart. Eddie stammers and stumbles over a word or two as visual warmth creeps up his ears. You ponder what he was hiding before he is able to speak again, “We-I-I forgot our-my tater tots and I ran back to your place and your brother answered and told us to come find you here…”

“Okay…” that made you stare wide eyed. He was kind of a shitty liar considering Raf doesn’t know where you are.

He stirs at your silence and leaves your gaze about forty times in the matter of two seconds. To his shock you begin giggling. Then you began to chuckle. Followed by some laughing that was hard enough that you had to hold your stomach. He holds you still as you take a moment to recover. ‘Damn, wouldn’t it be crazy if he was some psycho stalking me or whatever?’

Maybe your laughter was contagious or you just looked stupid, but he begins to cackle along with you. You both probably looked pretty stupid. With a careful step you continue the journey back to his place the moment your laughter slowly dies down.

“You’re weird” You wheezed through a last few fits of giggling that left you breathless.

Eddie was just as bad as he wipes away some water building up in his eye, “You don’t know the half of it.”

The bad thoughts push at your neck and build a little pressure in your chest as a harsh reminder that you shouldn’t be enjoying yourself. You smile through the pain, yet he asks you if you’re alright and if you’re hurting somewhere. His voice goes soft with an undertone of concern. You couldn’t swat at the butterflies that shift in your organs.

“I’m fine. Just shit hit the fan back at my place.” You wince in disgust when you reveal that little detail. Eddie notices and offers implied choices, “Want to talk about it?”

You could either walk in more awkward silence or you could awkwardly blow up on him. Much to your own displeasure you settle for the latter.

“Do you believe in shit like ‘being the bigger person’?” You curl your fingers to make air quotes around your words as you speak. You didn’t want to be talking to a brick wall of morals after all.

Unsure of what you were expecting, you turn to look at him, “Not really. I mean… Past experiences makes that kind of complicated to answer, but… not really.”

Sighing, you look forward to avoid eye contact; naturally as the coward you were, “Raf only blew up on you because he thinks you would ruin the chances of me focusing on a friendship with an ex of mine.” He scoffs, but you continue before he could say anything, “But Jess is kind of a shitty person and I really don’t care about bringing that fucker back into my life for his sake-uh since me Raf and Jess were all friends once…” You stopped there deciding last minute to keep a lid on it.

“Does Raf know you don’t want to be friends again?” You didn’t expect him to actually say anything after that. Nobody really ever did aside from Rafael.

“Yeah, it’s been almost a year already, but it still comes up.”

“Wait-why does he care? Can’t he still be friends with Jess and be your brother?”

Eddie seemed genuinely confused which was actually kind of adorable, but you ignored that thought, “Because he feels like he’s stuck in the middle of us. He wants it to go back to how it was when all three of us were together and tearing shit up.”

“So it’s really about him then?” More of a statement than a question. It made you look up at him in realization. The only feeling that lingered from your meltdown was the guilt of being a selfish asshole. You almost forgot to be a little pissed at him by the time you were mostly out of it.

He takes note of your reaction and speaks carefully, “I’m starting to think you two have really different feelings going around about different parts of this situation.” You nod in affirmation.

“So that’s probably why you two haven’t figured a way around any of this. Like you both rely on one of you just clicking and finally getting it so one of you can have it your way. But if you don’t then it’ll just come back up again later, right?”

You nod again, mostly in a daze. He was actually making sense to you somehow.

“That is so unfair...”

That actually makes you huff out a bit of laughter, “Tell me about it.”

You two finally make it to his apartment complex. By the time you two make it to the door of his apartment he’s already pushing you inside. Playfully of course. In his defense you were acting like a vampire that needed to verbally be invited in.

You stand politely next to his couch before you hear him scoff jokingly, “Do I look like the Queen of England?” When you don’t respond he steps into your view to hold your arms comfortingly, “Relax. Sit.”

Offering an apologetic smile you add onto you nervous behavior, “I’m sorry I’m just kind of… It’s been a while since I’ve…” You didn’t want to sound all that depressing, “Look I’ll try to…” Jesus fuck this was a disaster, “Ugh… I-I’m…” You wish you hadn’t said anything at all at this point. Huffing in defeat you finish your thought, “I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks at you closely as if to inspect you.

The silence was always weird. What was he thinking and why did it always take this long? Was he thinking of a way to kick you out? Your internal stress was rudely interrupted when he places something in front of you. The smell of cupped noodles pushes your embarrassment down your throat; almost forgotten. You didn’t seem to understand right away. Did you look hungry? Was your stomach making weird noises? Enough!

You took a forkful and hummed thankfully.

He takes his place next to you with a cup of his own. Perhaps he could sense that you were still bothered by your situation, or maybe he was just curious, you weren’t sure which as he begins to inquire, “Does Jess know you don’t want to be friends?”

Nodding, you swallow whatever is left in your mouth, “Yeah. I mean sometimes I hear from Raf that Jess would rather talk it out and I don’t know. Explain what happened that night maybe. Raf tells me that things have changed and how Jess changed, but I don’t… I don’t actually want to find that out for myself.” You couldn’t help but shrink at how horrible you were beginning to sound now that it was all being said out loud.

More silence.

“Should you really have to?”

There was a second before you choke up dryly at your next thought, “If I don’t then I’m just a coward and Raf is going to give up on me and won’t talk to me and-” Scorching tears return at full force by the time you feel yourself shaking against someone’s chest, “-I’ll be alone and I don’t want to be-not like this-I don’t want to be-” Arms tightening around you never made you feel so small. Your voice was growing less and less coherent and yet you pretended otherwise as you kept babbling on about fearing yourself. Does Rafael really think you don’t care enough about him if you don’t go back to being friends with your own fucking ex? You ball yourself up and cling to his jacket as if you would slip into the void if you let go.

‘Back at square one’ your mind jested. How would he ever talk to you again after this? Eddie was probably thinking ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ right about now. You were a wreck basically the first day you’ve met him! At least Raf didn’t have to worry anymore considering you ruined this poor dude’s night. A devastated smile tugs at your lips. His seriousness wavers at the feeling.

“What?” He has to pull away to look at you.

Your eyes were puffy, skin slick with tears, bruises still evident. Not only were you disgusting, but tears had soaked through his jacket, much to your embarrassment. You naturally avoid his gaze for the millionth time that night, “I’m sorry for fucking up your night.”

For a minute he seems to be at a loss for words. You mentally slap yourself for even saying anything and putting him in such an awkward position. Just as you were about to fill in the gap with more gibberish and half baked thoughts, he retorts, “You didn’t fuck anything up.”

You blink up at him to see that he was smiling down at you.

“Okay, sure, you’re crying on my couch and I don’t really know what to do with my hands-” His face almost beams when you snort weakly at his comment, “-but I would rather have you here than crying alone in some ditch-or alley in the dark.”

Then suddenly, something hit you. You wouldn’t be crying in his arms tonight if you just kept your conversation light. If you didn’t blurt out each and every little detail. Mostly because it was weird to do to a stranger you met just that day. Even most friends would look for distractions as an answer. He asked about your situation and kept prying. He was looking for the smaller details. Because he’s a reporter.

Or maybe he was just that nice of a person.

You move one hand to hold your side as you begin another contagious wave of laughter that resulted in you hiding your face in his shoulder. It was more down-played than the last, but still unrelenting. You weren’t sure why, but it all just seemed weird enough to you to be laughable. Not too long after were there strings of laughter rumbling throughout his body. For some reason, the bouncing of your head against his quaking shoulder was automatically hysterical to you. Your laughter grew by the second. This had to stop.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie snickered.

Only after a humiliating snort or two did you answer, “You!” the mirth finally dives back into calmness as you provide some clarity, “You’re just,” your words were broken by a lingering breath of laughter, “so weird…”

A nervous chuckle draws your attention, “Weird good or weird bad?”

“I don’t know,” a bit of mischief teases your lips when you see his reaction, “You go looking for me in an alley after the shitty breakfast I gave you and let me into your apartment all ugly with tears.”

Slowly, joy kicked at his lungs. His laugh was cute. Man, if this dude turns out to be a murderer just lurring you in, you were going to be pissed.

“Yeah… I think you’re a good weird.” You didn’t realize how close Eddie was to you until you sneak a peak of his deep smile.

He seemed to realize it too as he takes the opportunity to lean a little closer and wipe away any lingering tears off of your face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was coated in honey when you decide you want to meet him halfway. You begin slow. He was so close to you; his breath easily warming your skin and sending goosebumps up your arms. Suddenly you were cold.

You blink at the view of him continuing to eat his leftovers.

“Your soups gettin’ cold.” The shit-eating grin that he bares was enough to light a fire under your ass.

Shock was written all over your face, nevertheless, you grab your soup and continue to eat. There was some silence that weighted the atmosphere. Maybe he was expecting a different reaction out of you, you weren’t sure, but nobody was about to be playing hard to get with you right now. You cackle internally.

“So do you-”

A smile that could sell for innocence graces your features.

He swipes his tongue over the corner of his lips slowly to catch the drop of soup from the small corn you had flung at him. It catches your gaze through the corner of your eye. Feeling like you’ve won, you continue to eat.

Unfortunately you only had half a minute to mentally brag. A lukewarm piece of noodle smacks lamely into your jawline before falling into the remainder of your soup. You gasp and shoot an infamous glare which slowly falters beneath the playful grin that surfaces.

With a flick of your index finger you move another piece of food on the tip of your fork. In a flash, you bring a fist down on the handle and launch a small piece of partially soaked chicken right into what would have been his chest.

What happened instead was actually quite impressive. Your eyes widen to see Eddie lunge forward and catch the food in his mouth. For a second you swear you see his teeth sharpen, but dismiss it as a mere exaggeration of his action. You raise your hands to defend your face as he chuckles and flicks another one at you.

You cry out in laughter and launch it back at him; hitting his nose. Another one flies at you, but you slap it out of your way. It splashes into your soup and further dirties your hoodie. At the moment you didn’t really care. That being said, a few more minutes into your little warfare and your hoodie was as bad as your crying face was a few moments ago. Eddie wasn’t as bad after catching two more when they were just a little too overhead.

“You want me to wash your hoodie for you?” He gestures to the filth that caked the fabric. He looked smug albeit a little apologetic.

“Nah it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” An eyebrow raises and you cave, “Uh… I would take it off, but I didn’t bring a shirt…”

Humiliation manifests on your face just as Eddie raises a brow. There’s no issue when it came to Raf seeing you shirtless, but with someone so new? It was weird. You can’t help but be a little insecure. He scratches the back of his neck in thought before offering another option, “I could give you a shirt, no problem.”

You were going to decline, but you could feel something slick and cold sticking to your stomach. Shivering you nod gratefully, “Please?”

Keeping close to him you follow towards a closet full of clothing. Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. Your eyes immediately trace the muscles that flex and contour his back. Fuck, it actually makes you want to cry. You play it off as a sigh and peel your eyes away from him as he slips into a clean shirt. Were you making things weird? No he probably didn’t notice anything. He hasn’t made a sound yet anyways. Yeah-no it’s nothing. He can’t possibly see that look on your face! Did you see those tattoos? Wipe that drool off your face, he’s turning around!

He places a soft fabric into your hands and points to the bathroom. You were still too ashamed to meet his eyes and notice his smug expression. Instead, here you were in his kind-of-gross bathroom. Stripping off your hoodie you pull the shirt over your top half. If you were being honest, you wish you were out there in front of him. Your mind went into the gutter while you imagine trying to show off your muscles and whatnot.

“Everything okay in there?” You jump and reflexively grab your hoodie off of the sink.

“Y-yeah. I’ll be right out.”

Anxiously, you pull at the collar of the shirt. You couldn’t stop yourself. Pulling it closely to your lips, you inhale lightly. His scent was almost like its own spice. A sweet musk with enough zest you sweep you off your feet.

You hear him shuffling around in his living room and quickly make your way out. The shirt was an easy fit on you, actually. Eddie was a pretty big guy anyways so you were grateful for the size. Your eyes glaze upon the shirt he wears now. Imagine tearing into such thin fabric… You catch yourself before getting lost in the figuration again.

“Thanks. I’ll give it back-”

“Don’t worry about it. Looks better on you.”

‘Smooth Criminal’ was written all over him, “Not as good as you look right now.”

“You think I look good?” He stalks up to you and you feel your heart flutter.

“Didn’t realize I stuttered.” You hum, amused.

Before things could escalate, Eddie clears his throat. He seemed to be keeping himself back. It was absolutely annoying…

“You stayin’ the night?”

“Only if you’ll let me.” There’s some hopefulness in your words.

He catches it and feeds you a promising grin, “Guess you’re stayin’.”

The rest of that night was a blur. But much to your displeasure you two didn’t do much of anything. You could tell because you were both leaning against each other on his couch with the TV on. The urge to kick something in frustration was strong enough to pick Eddie as a target. Not that you didn’t have a nice time, but you would rather be walking off a pair of sore legs right about now. He stirs next to you and leans his back against the couch; taking some weight off of you.

You desperately want to move, but not off of the couch. You wanted to lay your head in the crook of his neck and you weren’t even sure why. That was weird. He literally met you yesterday…

‘What the fuck.’

Your head was comfortably tucked against his toned thighs. Too busy being stuck in your thoughts you fail to notice you were slowly being pushed into his lap. You really needed to stop daydreaming because you are doing things you basically tell yourself not to do.

Eddie was already waking up before you could fix your mistake! Quickly shutting your eyes, you pretend to be asleep. A moment later and Eddie was shifting beneath you in contempt of trying to control your breathing. Were you being elevated? You refused to face the music by opening your eyes just yet. Not even when you felt his seemingly huge hand caress the back of your head.

He does lean down to you though. Your heart comes to a screeching halt in hopes of him leaning down to kiss you. However that does not happen. You could feel him. Eddie was taking in your scent, greedily. You miss the chance to stop yourself from shuddering. This almost made you feel vulnerable. But worst comes to worst, you could take a hit and dish one out too.

There was an animalistic rumble that has you peek through your lashes. It was horrifyingly good and ran up your spine better than any man’s “lower” voice. The subtle clicking was weird but did wonders to your core. In spite of peeking, it was just Eddie’s nervous face.

The jig is up.

You squint at him-as if you were just waking up-appearing tired and disoriented, “Dude,” You couldn’t help throwing in a drowsy chuckle before continuing, “are you sniffing me?”

Mentally jumping for joy at the fact that it took the attention off of you for sleeping on his lap, you watch in amazement as he stammers with an excuse and chokes up on nothing. He was as nervous and messy as you were.

In the end he comes up with nothing short of, “I just… thought you smelt nice… is all…”

As nice as it was to see him sweat over anything, you crack a smile and offer some honesty, “Thanks. I think you smell nice too.”

Shit was so awkward it was just easier to laugh at each other at this point. You sit up and make a bit of a show at stretching. With your arms raised, you make sure to flex. The shirt was a little on the thinner side which made it easier to tease your little audience as it left almost no secrets and gave just enough details. You finish with a scripted yawn that flows into a soft moan and rest your hands behind your neck. Lasty, you blink away your bedroom eyes to see him still staring. You almost laugh at him when he opens his mouth to close it again.

‘How pathetic is that?’ You chuckle to yourself.

He looked frazzled and scared to say anything. You feel a surge of energy and confidence the moment he practically turns around to run away. There was no way in hell you didn’t just hear him whimper.

Laughing only when he makes it into the safety of his bathroom, your phone nearly vibrates off of the table.

[R: Aye call me or get over here]

[R: Cause I just got you a fight]

[R: Its flashin’ big money]

[Y: How big?]

You two may be fighting, but when it came to you fighting other people, it was an implied compromise that you two still work together.

[R: Call me or smthng]

Eddie was just coming out of the bathroom. His bed head looking more like it was on purpose than an accident.

[Y: Can’t rn… I’ll be over in ten]

[Y: Ttyl]

Pocketing your phone you look at Eddie bashfully, “Hey… big guy?” oh god-no awkward…

“Big guy?” His grin was already talking dirty.

“Careful-I know where you sleep.” You point at him accusingly before laughing it off, “Anyways…” ‘You’re stalling…’

“This was fun… and you’re really nice. So thank you…” He at least seemed pleased by your words so far, “But, Raf texted me so…” Until now. His face was weirdly disappointed. All you could do was sigh mentally, ‘I don’t want to go either…’.

“Are we going to see you again sometime or?” You gave it some thought. You didn’t actually have a job with your winnings mainly covering the rent. Not to mention, Raf was the one working at the bakery on 24th street. Memories flash you with images of you lounging on the couch or working out. You had all the free time in the world.

For a second, you twist from side to side indecisively. You kind of wish for a way to attach him to you hip. You liked him and despite all the teasing and whatnot, he seemed as shy and weird as you were. Just as lost.

“Hm… What are you doing tonight?” The smile he answers with was rewarding.

“Don’t know yet… You tell me…” Jesus fuck, did your heart just float away?

Keeping your cool you place your palm against his bicep, “I know a cute little place we could meet up.”

You give him the location of a sweet little cafe that was open in the late hours. He was familiar with it and called it a date. A swift hand grabs your hoodie. You quickly toss it onto your shoulder and poke some fun at how you may just keep the shirt. It felt softer than any of your shirts. Everything felt like it was lingering, “You want me to walk you home?”

“I’ll be fine.” Punctuating your words with a shameless flex of your bicep. You really didn’t want to go, nonetheless, you bid him farewell after a bittersweet chuckle, “Anyways-Got to bounce. Ciao.”

He waves you off and closes the door behind you. Your heart needs a moment to deal with the loss of company. As you move down the hall to exit the building you hear Eddie’s muffled voice, “Wh-God shut up V.”

He seemed irritated, but he was chuckling. Strange. Who was he talking to?

You pay it no mind for now and focus on your journey back home.

#venom x reader #Eddie Brock x reader #venom #trashwriting #this was also in the drafts so #sorry for the wait #in case any of you are wondering I do look into my inbox at your supportive comments #still helps a lot #thanks

[wenttworth]

At this point, Eddie’s prowess at sneaking out was basically legendary amongst what was left of the Losers.

His mother never really recovered from whatever had happened that summer he broke his arm--the details were fuzzy enough even when they compiled all the information together--and even now at sixteen he felt more like a preteen under her thumb. But, she slept very deeply. More than that, she slept deeply in the living room with the TV turned on, clear the other side of the house from Eddie’s room.

He kept his door cracked open and tried to read comics, finish off that last bit of trig homework he was bashing his head against, and waited for her bear-like snores to start.

They started, and he held his breath for a few seconds before carefully clambering out of his window, finding the trellis and locking his toes in it to start the precarious trip down. He was dreading the moment the trellis finally gave up and broke apart under his weight, almost expected it to now, when it was more important than ever before that he get out of that house, but it didn't creak any more ominously than before and the snores continued their rhythmic lull through the open window.

He'd stashed his bike in next door’s bushes on his way back from school so he didn't have to open the screechy garage door, and before long was free with the wind blowing back against his face. It was sharp enough even in what should be a mild March to make his eyes sting. At least, that was what he told himself to explain the prickle in his eyes.

He would be able to make the trip to Richie’s house blindfolded and backwards, after almost ten years of shipping himself between the two houses, either accompanied by more of the Losers or alone. When he pushed himself, he could get there in eleven minutes. Just enough time to really feel the sinking of his stomach at this probably being the last time he made the trip.

As usual when arriving at Richie’s after dark, he avoided the doors and started the climb up the porch to Richie’s window. More a precaution than anything else--the Tozier’s wouldn't have minded if he stayed over, but it would also be the first call Sonia would make if she discovered he was missing.

He tapped on the window when he made it up, his arms straining from the effort and slightly miffed that Richie hadn't already opened it in preparation, but there was no answer. Eddie’s heart dropped somewhere in the region of his ankles and he hissed Richie’s name, tapping a little harder. Surely he hadn't been so stupid as to get the date of the move wrong, and surely Richie hadn't made plans with anyone else his last day in Derry.

“I swear, motherfucker, if you're not here--”

“Eddie?”

The voice came from above, and Eddie looked up to see Richie’s familiar mess of curls and oversized glasses peering at him from over the lip of the roof. “What are you doing up there?” he asked, still hanging for dear life onto the windowsill.

“Best seat in the house, shweetheart,” Richie crooned. Sorry, Boghart crooned.

Eddie rolled his eyes hard. “Whatever. Help me up.”

His hand reached down, and Eddie gripped his forearm as Richie helped hoist him up. He panted once he finally managed it, lying on his back and staring up at a crystal clear night sky. “That should not have been so hard. Fuck. I'm only sixteen and I already can't do a pull-up.”

Richie shot him an amused look and pulled a drag from his cigarette before answering. “You're a runner, Eds. Not a body-builder.” He punctuated the remark by slapping Eddie’s thigh hard enough to make him yelp, and Eddie retaliated by slapping his arm just as hard.

“Don't call me that, dick.”

Richie laughed with his whole body when he really got going, his head dipping forwards, his shoulders hunching in as they shook. Almost like he was trying to hide his laughter from the world. So different to when he waited for a reaction to his jokes, when he would stand straight with a proud grin on his face. Eddie still memorised it. Who knew when he would see it again.

“That's not a cigarette,” he finally said, when Richie had put it back to his lips for another drag.

“That it ain't, Eddie, my darling.” He shrugged. “Figured this was the best time to buy weed for myself, you know. Seeing as I'm skipping town tomorrow. Do you want some?”

Eddie wrinkled his nose, and Richie winked. “Didn't think so. But you know. Must be a gracious host and all that.”

“You're a shitty host,” Eddie said automatically. “Where are your parents? Surely they don't approve of you getting high on a roof.”

“No, they usually make me choose between getting high and getting on the roof,” Richie said, sincere enough that Eddie couldn't quite tell if he was joking. “They went out with friends. I figured you would be over at some point so I pretended I was...depressed about leaving or whatever.”

Eddie pulled his knees up and shifted on the tiles to try to find a more comfortable position, even as he kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, at the water tower that still made his palms sweat whenever he walked past it, for whatever reason. “Are you? Depressed about leaving, I mean.”

The harsh laugh that ripped through Richie’s throat was so unlike him that Eddie jolted. “Fuck no,” he said in a low voice.

Eddie’s vision blurred, and he tried to swallow around a lump in his throat. He'd been sad when Stan and Bill had left, even more so as he waited for the letters and postcards they'd promised that never arrived, but it was nothing compared to now, knowing that this was likely the last time he would see Richie. Richie may have been loyal here, in a small town with nothing and no one, but he would find his people in Chicago. He would find people better suited to his exuberance and who could fire his jokes back on him with much more wit than Eddie ever could. The last thing Eddie could ever expect was that he could hold onto this friendship that had defined so much of his life.

“Derry’s not for people like…” Richie paused, before breathing out harshly. “I don't belong here,” he finally continued, looking down at his lap.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? Because they'd always belonged with the Losers, with each other, and yet they were being splintered apart piece by piece, nothing more than another piece of luggage.

It wasn't until he felt tears burning tracks down his cheeks that Eddie realised he was crying, and he didn't even think about being embarrassed about it until Richie gave him an alarmed look, gripping his hand and lacing their fingers together. He didn't say anything, instead watching Eddie with wide eyes as his blunt kept letting a trail of smoke whisper through the air.

“I can't believe you're leaving me here, man,” he finally said, wiping his cheeks quickly with his free hand. “Who the fuck am I supposed to cheat off of in trig.”

Richie smiled at him, biting his lip hard and his eyes shining with so much affection that Eddie could barely meet them. “You've still got Ben in our class.”

Eddie shook his head. “Ben’s not you,” he admitted in a whisper.

Richie was still. Probably the most still Eddie had ever seen him, and any other time Eddie would have been relieved at the sudden calm. He cleared his throat, before lunging for the blunt. “Give me that,” he muttered as he yanked it from Richie's hand, though he made no move to even suggest that he would have stopped him. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs and hoping it would start acting quickly.

Richie blinked dazedly as Eddie handed it back to him, before narrowing his eyes. “Eds, that was way too experienced.”

Eddie shrugged and waited for Richie to take another drag before stealing it from him again.

“No. No, no, Eds.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie said around the blunt.

“Have you...have you smoked before, Eddie?”

Eddie blew the smoke in his face in lieu of an answer, and Richie broke into delighted laughter. “No, that's not fair, Eds, I wanted to be with you the first time you got high! How did it even happen?”

“You don't get invited to every party, dumbass,” Eddie said.

“And you do?” Richie asked. His pupils were wide as he leaned in.

“More than you, apparently.”

Richie gave a dramatic sigh, falling back against the roof (muttering ‘ah, shit’ as he lost a few inches down the slope) and covered his eyes with one hand. “I don't know how I can recover from this betrayal. To think mine own Edward Spaghedward didn't invite me as his date to those parties.”

“What did you just call me?” Eddie asked, half contemplating pushing him the rest of the way off the roof.

“They were probably just worried that I would steal all the girls from them.”

“Ah, that's definitely it,” Eddie said, injecting as much sarcasm as he could in his tone.

“No, no, it's true, Eds. Whenever I'm around girls it's like...woah, I'm only one man, and sure there's a lot of me to go round, like, so much Eddie, you have no idea, but also my dick very firmly belongs to your mother so there's that--”

“I will push you off this roof, Richie.”

He thankfully stopped, though he was still giggling to himself like a school child.

They finished the rest of the blunt in silence, and Richie started rolling another as soon as it was done. Eddie watched his long fingers work at it, dexterous and sure in a way that made his mouth feel dry. Probably the smoke.

“You want to know something?” Richie said quietly after the first drag. His fingers lingered against Eddie’s when he handed it over to him. Eddie almost shook his head, but instead he shut down the panic that was building somewhere above his diaphragm and waited. “I asked my parents whether you could come with us. Like, genuinely asked whether it was a possibility that you could come live with us. Instead of…” he didn't continue but Eddie understood well enough. “I don't think they believed me when I said how bad it had got. You know. Since…” Words failed him then, though Eddie understood when he was talking about. Not what, never what, other than brief flashes of pure terror and then pure courage. But the ‘when' was The Summer of the broken arm and…

He couldn't complete the thought, and shook his head to clear it.

“But you can come for the summer, if you want,” Richie continued, forcing hollow cheer.

Bill and Stan had said the same before they left, to no avail. But it had to be different with Richie. It was Richie, dammit.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, not really trusting himself to say anything more. There was something wet on his cheeks again, although he wasn't entirely sure if he had just started crying again or if he just hadn't stopped. Richie hadn't let go of his hand in that time.

He hesitantly raised his free hand to Eddie’s cheek, and when Eddie didn't move away gently brushed his thumb over his cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

He was leaving tomorrow. Leaving to be what felt like an entire galaxy away. Some other family would be here, some other kid would be in Richie’s room and hide things under that one loose floorboard and spy the etching the Losers had scratched in another floorboard hidden under the bed. Eddie could blame a lot on this, or the weed, or some shit like how romantic it was to sit together under the stars like this for what he did next, but honestly, he simply wanted to.

He leant in and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to Richie’s mouth, pulling away a few centimetres when Richie froze. He stared at Eddie for a few seconds as Eddie waited for him to yank back in disgust or push Eddie away, but instead he cupped Eddie’s jaw and pulled him in to kiss him again.

It did feel...a little awkward. He wasn't too sure what to do with the hand that wasn't clasped in Richie’s own, and finally settled on placing it on Richie’s thigh. He wasn't too sure whether he should keep his eyes closed or not--every instinct in him was screaming to keep a look out. He wasn't too sure how to react when he felt Richie’s tongue against the seam of his lips, though Richie’s groan when he let him press it into his mouth made a self-satisfied shiver of pleasure travel up his spine. Richie’s hand went to grip his waist, his own went to Richie’s hair, some instinct or memory reminding him just how much Richie liked his hair being stroked.

In the end, Richie pulled away first, keeping their foreheads together and breathing hard in the space between them. He made a small, plaintive sound when Eddie pulled him in by his hair to steal another kiss.

“Eddie, I…” he stopped himself, screwing his eyes shut tight, before wrapping his arms around Eddie's shoulders and pressing his face against his hair. He was trembling, his breath shaking as he pulled air in and out. Eddie put his palm on his chest to feel his heart thud against it, quick and hard. Almost as quick and hard as Eddie's.

He waited until it had calmed to a more normal pace, before picking up the blunt from where Richie had dropped it, and the Zippo lighter from the breast pocket of Richie’s top before lighting it, ignoring how his hands were shaking as he did so.

“That was my first kiss. Just so you know,” Eddie said as conversationally as he could manage. He cast a sideways look to Richie, who blinked away the dazed look in his eyes before smiling wryly.

“Mine, too,” he admitted, before taking the blunt back from Eddie.

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #stephen king #my writing

[state-of-longing]

fix-it hc where reddie saves adrian and don:

total au but what if richie and eddie are already in town at the time of the attack and are driving back from the jade orient and see the attack about to happen on the bridge?

richie comes across them first and beeps because he thinks it’s just a bunch of kids blocking the road after coming home from the carnival

but then he sees adrian getting kicked to the ground and don being held back by these gross hillbilly motherfuckers

at first richie is all, don’t get out of the car man, you need to get the fuck outta derry

but of course he doesn’t do that so he beeps again to get the attackers attention

john garton and co. stop what they’re doing and look over at the red mustang and start yelling at richie to stop being a pussy and get out of the car

richie realises that shit he didn’t think about this plan too well and he’s kinda drunk and hasn’t been in a fight since he was a teenager

then eddie’s car pulls up behind him and he sees him in the rearview mirror looking all confused and he gestures a ‘what the fuck dude?’

then richie looks at adrian coughing on the ground and reaching for his aspirator and he just loses it

he thinks of all the times bowers and co. scared him shitless and bullied eddie right in front of him and he wishes he had done something. anything

he gets out of the car, leaving the engine running and slams the door shut yelling out ‘hey shit stains, leave them alone!’

garton gets off adrian who is wheezing and coughing on the ground. the other guys still have a hold of don who is desperate to get to his boyfriend

eddie who has been trying to figure out why richie has just decided to park in the middle of a bridge, rolls down his window to lean out and ask what’s going on

‘richie, are you having a goddamn stroke? why the fuck did you —’

but he stops when he sees richie get out of the car and slam his door closed and walk out further onto the bridge

worried that the stupid idiot will drunkenly walk into oncoming traffic, eddie also begrudgingly gets out. just to ensure the dickwad doesn’t get hit by a car before they’ve even escaped the clown

richie is face to face with garton and he also notices a kid who spits on the ground near his feet. he’s unfortunately not surprised by how early the hate starts in this town. he’s a little replica of bowers

‘are you their boyfriend too?’

richie freezes and he’s getting flashbacks to being 13 and not knowing why the bowers gang is yelling at him and why they’re calling him a fairy

‘i asked you a question f**’ and garton pushes richie’s shoulder

eddie runs up to them at that point and before he can even think of his personal safety he notices adrian struggling on the floor and fumbling for his aspirator that’s too far away for him to reach

‘holy shit’ he stumbles to the ground and picks up the familiar device and takes in all of the blood on adrian’s face. he shakes the dispenser and hears the comforting rattle

‘here, take a deep breath. it’s okay, you’re going to be okay just breathe.’

adrian grasps at eddie’s hand and takes the puff allowing the medicine to open his tight airways

eddie instantly thinks of richie helping him with his own aspirator when they were teenagers and looks up at the gang now surrounding him

richie looks terrified

‘eds! what the fuck are you doing? get back in the car!’

the two cronies let go of don, noticing this new threat and he immediately runs to adrian’s side

‘i’m helping you numb nuts. you trying to be a martyr or something?’ with richie here with him eddie doesn’t feel as terrified as he know he should

‘what is this? some sort of old queer reunion?’ the kid spits out and blocks eddie in from the side

eddie ignores him and sees a chance for the guy on the ground and his boyfriend to escape

‘make sure he gets another puff of this and get him straight to the hospital. his nose is broken.’ he pulls out the keys to his rental and passes them to don

richie can’t help but smile proudly at eddie and his fucking balls. but he was always better in a crisis, can’t resist giving someone medical advice

‘thank you.’ adrian groans out as he grabs onto don for support

‘just get the hell outta derry.’

don smiles thankfully and they stumble to eddie’s car, the attackers ignoring them now that they have richie and eddie

‘maybe we just give a derry welcome to this one boys’ the kid rounds on eddie who now realises how much danger they might actually be in. the gang turns on him

richie panics and calls out for their attention. ‘look fellas if you wanted us to suck your dicks all you had to do is ask’

eddie eyes richie down with a why are you so stupid look

but it distracts garton and his cronies long enough for richie to pull his arm back and swing a punch at the ringleaders nose

he gets him, blood flying everywhere

richie is in shock that it actually worked. and then he’s groaning as he clutches his hand as the pain radiates up his arm

‘fuck me that hurts’

eddie, who is in awe of the whole thing, watches as garton stumbles back holding his bloody nose, the ratty kid next to him moves to help his friend so eddie trips him over as he’s not looking

the two other numbskulls turn on them

‘run!’

‘eds i just fucking punched that guy’

‘that’s great. now run!!’

eddie bolts for the passenger door of the mustang and richie catches on and scrambles for his keys as the gang closes in on them

‘unlock the car dipshit!’

one hillbilly tries to swing at eddie and he ducks, the guys fist going through the car window. eddie laughs hysterically in both terror and elation

‘holy shit that actually worked!’

richie jumps in the car and yells at eddie to get in before locking the door

‘we’re gonna get you, fucking f**s!’

richie looks over at eddie who is grinning like a madman and nods at him to drive.

‘yipee ki yay motherfuckerrrrrrs!!’ he punches the gas, hollering out the window, eddie flipping them off

garton panics to get out of the way of the speeding car and stumbles backwards over the side of the bridge

the hillbilly cronies all run down to the kenduskeag to save him. pennywise gets a 3-course meal instead

‘that was fucking awesome! did you see their faces? they shit their pants man!’ eddie’s eyes are shining as he looks on proudly at richie

he frowns when he notices richie’s smile has faded and his hands (including the bloody one) are shaking on the wheel. he turns down the music which is blasting a talking heads album

‘rich...hey richie. hey man, you okay?’

richie is pale behind his glasses, and wipes sweat from his brow. ‘who me? sure am eds. never better buddy boy.’

eddie is unconvinced but rather than push him he just says ‘you did good richie.’

richie tries to concentrate on the road and it takes all of his might to not turn the car around and drive straight out of town. he already has eddie in the car. but he can’t get the image of adrian mellon lying on the pavement out of his head

but he doesn’t. he just drives to the town house and he and eddie escape upstairs before the others arrive

‘come with me.’ eddie grabs richie’s arm and drags him into his room

richie would follow him anywhere

eddie digs through his very large toiletries bag and pulls out a first aid kit. ‘your hand needs cleaning.’

‘it’s fine.’

‘bullshit. just let me clean it before you get an infection and it falls off.’

richie knows better than to argue and he flops onto eddie’s bed, his hands are still shaking

eddie picks up the hand, inspects it and then starts cleaning with antiseptic. richie lets out a hiss between his teeth but can’t deny that he’s been wanting to hold eddie’s hand all night. he just didn’t think it would be like this

‘what you did tonight...’

‘it was stupid, i wasn’t thinking...’

‘it was brave. you didn’t have to help them. you know most people in this shithole town wouldn’t.’

richie smiles and is overwhelmed by the sincerity in eddie’s eyes. he quickly looks down at their hands where eddie is now applying some sort of smelly salve

‘this town. it hasn’t changed one bit. it’s...it was terrifying even without the clown...’

‘yeah...i know what you mean...’

eddie pulls out a bandage and wraps it around his knuckles. richie is mesmerised by how methodical he is and how soothing it is just to watch him at work. he should have been a doctor

‘do you think that couple is okay?’

‘i hope so. all thanks to you rich.’

richie knows that tonight was just another moment that will scar their hearts. watching someone you love being hurt like that...it never leaves you. richie blinks back tears as eddie finishes with his hand

but he doesn’t let go, just rubs his thumb along his knuckles

‘did you see he had an aspirator?’ eddie barely whispers out and looks up at him through his eyelashes

‘...yeah’

richie smiles through the tears and squeezes eddie’s hand back

‘yeah I did...and it terrified me’

they soak in each other for just a moment

until the others arrive downstairs

#reddie #it #tw: violence #tw: slurs #it chapter 2 spoilers #never written a hc before #did i do it right? #adrian mellon #don hagarty #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing

[phantomphangphucker]

Legless On Maim Chap. 8: Crime And Time Makes Me Fine. NOT.

Danny messes with a cop, Lewis messes with a ghost, Vee messes with a Eddie, ClockWork messes with EVERYBODY. And while Danny loves ClockWork, he also thinks they’re an absolute bastard.

Danny gets awoken almost violently and promptly slips off the branch he had climbed up onto. Deciding to just stay laying on the ground groaning rather than deal with his friends; especially hearing them laughing at him.

“Now that’s some quality blackmail material”.

“Dude! Wow you were not kidding!”.

Danny just groans again as Tucker tosses a pair of pants over his face. Fine, he appreciates actually having pants now -even if they weren’t on him, at least not in the way he’d like them to be- but knowing his friends they were probably patterned embarrassingly. Blinking open his eyes and blowing air strong enough at them to make them float up into the air, effectively confirming a stupid pattern; fucking pink with hearts, motherfuckers. “Jerks”.

Sam smirks and puts a hand on her hip as Danny pushes himself to sit up, “courtesy of my folks' refusal to accept that I’m not their personal dress-up doll”.

Danny snorts, “you’d think they'd give you more heartfelt gifts for a change, instead of using the opportunity to try and make you have a fashionable change of heart”. Earning matching groans and making him smirk. Getting up and flipping them off while hopping to get the (very hideous)pj’s on.

Tucker points at him, “least your legs clearly work”.

“Tuck pal, I think I’d be having a fair few fucking crises if they didn’t”, patting the pants off before straightening up and gesturing exaggeratedly at his legs, “I’m having a crisis as it is. The fuck am I supposed to do with this? How the fuck am I supposed to explain this guys?!?”, gesturing even more wildly, “I. Have. Legs. Again. They were cut off, and now. They. Are. Back. Is there any section of the endless expanse of the Zone where I am not fucked”.

Tucker shrugs, “body paint? Sam is rich enough for an endless supply”. Sam glares at him, crosses her arms, and then uncrosses them just to smack him over the head, “I am not a walking wallet!”.

Danny points aggressively at Tucker, “my folks are not utterly blind, Tuck”, shrugging, “sure it’s a close thing, but still”, glaring, “and that will immediately fall apart as soon as they want to do a systems check or something. Heck! They haven’t even gotten the CyberSteps working yet. Meaning I still got to test prototypes, which is literally impossible to do with having freaking legs again!”.

Sam and Tucker share a look, Sam shaking her head, “you could just be honest? They were chill with a bloody ghost Core, Danny, I think they can handle legs”.

Danny glares, “Cores and ghostly tails are solid ecto-energy, not flesh and blood and bone. It’s not the same. That shit can, apparently, just be explained away by me having a somewhat awakened ghost. Legs, fleshy human legs, are not a ghost thing”.

Tucker shrugs, “could just pitch it as ghostly healing? Though yeah, you almost might as well just tell them everything at this point”.

Danny huffs, he had a point. Considering the sheer amount of ghostly weirdness his folks have just accepted at this point. But still, the whole ‘I’m half ghost! Surprise!’ was more than just being half ghost. It also meant admitting he was Phantom and had been hiding and lying for two whole years. It meant his parents facing the fact that their life's work was effectively responsible for killing their son. That they had spent years telling him to his face how much they really badly and painfully wanted to dissect and destroy him. That they actually had tortured him once and injured him on nearly a weekly bases. Then there was the fact that they saw him get tossed around, impaled, stabbed, lit on fire, gutted, decapitated, cut in half, electrocuted, maimed, shot, and other things he’s probably forgetting, pretty much every day; and they just watched and did nothing to help.

Sure he didn’t resent them for all of that, how could he? they didn’t know. But they would be crushed and hurt, that mattered. And that’s without even mentioning that he would effectively disprove most of their work. And yeah, they had made some headway recently and were finally recognising that created ghosts at least could be a thing. Maybe, just maybe, born ghosts too. Ancients, they were only just now starting to listen to him. Willing to face and accept that ghosts might not be the evil emotionless monsters they always thought they were. Is it so terrible that he'd like them to not hate ghosts before finding out that he was one???

Apparently the universe thought so.

But no, fuck it. He will take this secret fully to the grave before the universes crap -which the Observants probably played a role in because they hate him and want him to suffer- forces this secret to light. Fuck the universe and it’s bullshit. Groaning at the sky anyway, “you know, I always imagined it would be something crazy, utterly impossible, undeniably ghostly; that would bang me up in a life-changing way. Would force secrets to light. Not something so damn simple, so normal, so human; as a car crash”.

Both of them chuckle at him and move to pat at his shoulders. Tucker snorts, “I think it was more car ‘massacre’ than car ‘crash’”. Danny shoves him a little because people fucking died.

Sam shakes her head though, “you’re not going to tell them, are you?”.

Danny snorts and shakes his head a little; happily taking the slight distraction, “naw. Maybe someday, but that someday is not today. Fuck the universes shitty sense of comedic timing”, crossing his arms and glaring down at his legs. He can still feel the whole bandage booty shorts situation, embarrassing but fuck it. He’s going to make Lewis have to witness his shit. Even if it probably won’t make his eyeballs bleed, that guy has seen way too much weird shit to suffer mental ocular trauma from anything. But still.

Tucker and Sam exchange a Look before looking back to Danny and speaking in sync, “spite”.

Danny nods with a slight smirk, “is there ever a better reason?”.

Getting another in synch response, “not dying... further”. Danny waves them off like he couldn’t care less.

Sam shakes her head, “on a slightly serious note, what’s the plan?”.

Danny shrugs, “well should see if I even can still modify my ghostly body on a molecular level to turn solid limbs into a gas”.

Tucker snickers, “and like everything else about you, when you say it technically it sounds like some body horror shit”. Danny just finger-guns at him before going ghost and easily changing to his ghostly tail; promptly doing jazz hands.

Sam and Tucker nod, Tucker pointing at him, “well that solves that, dude”, continuing at Danny’s raised confused eyebrow, “Danny-dude, just do that half transformation thing and leave your lower half in ghost mode”.

Sam smirks and nods, turning to Tucker and talking like this has already been decided as the plan of attack, “then we can just wrap bandaging over his Phantom legs before he switches to a tail, getting the bandaged look”. Tucker hums his agreement.

Danny sticks his arms out to the side and looks almost offended, “do you know how hard half transforming is to maintain? There’s a reason I never do that shit for more than emergencies or quick jokes”.

Sam rolls her eyes at him, “deal with it”. Danny flips her off. Though really, not much of another option. Having a ghost tail in human form was drastically harder to have and maintain than half transforming.

Danny transforms his upper half back human because, eh why not? And he’s been gone for a while. Chuckling down at the black ghostly tail before smirking at his friends, “I’m three halves of a whole now. Half a body, half transformed, and half-ghost in two different ways. I don’t think anyone ever put this much effort into half-assing so many things. All because so much of me just keeps on dying. I’m a real die-hard you could say. Really killed any effort for a fully functioning life. My apparent partial lifelessness isn’t a real tear-jerker apparently, so maybe I should add some flavour and start halving onions”.

Tucker grabs Danny’s head and shoves him into the dirt; even if they’re all laughing a bit.

It takes a while before they all calm down, laying in the grass and staring up at the sky. Tucker being the first to speak up again, “so, hows it feel to be amongst the legged again?”.

Danny changes back fully human and crosses his ankles, “very leggy”, earning a round of snorts. Honestly, it was a bit weird. Especially feeling fabric over leg skin for the first time in days. He also has never been so aware over how much legs weigh. Sure his human form was always heavier than his ghost one, but wow legs weigh a lot. Well technically legs and pelvis. And it was also weird that having legs again felt weird; really it should feel like a return to normalcy, instead the leglessness had become like normalcy, Either it was really easy to get used to or he was one overall adaptable son of a corpse. It was probably the latter.

The three scrunch their faces up and groan in sync as it starts raining, lightly at first before suddenly coming down in a torrential downpour; resulting in them scrambling up. Danny transforming and grabbing them up, intangibly and invisibly flying them back to his house. Returning to the visible spectrum in his room.

Sam takes two steps before stepping in something definitely still wet and grimacing at Danny, “this is why we never take our shoes off”. Danny just shrugs her off while changing back human, feet planting on the ground with a little plop, and flopping face down onto his bed.

His friends following suit on top of him. Tucker muttering, “ow”, after basically smashing his forehead into Danny’s shoulder brace.

Danny snorts, “I’m not paying for your concussion treatment”.

Seconds later Jazz practically slams the door open, “finally, where have you been Danny???”. Managing to actually startle Danny (since his nose was blocked by his bed), who startles everyone else by pushing himself up so fast his braces make concerning cracking sounds and his very human legs suddenly becoming a ghostly tail; which completely off balances him and, combined with his momentum, sends him falling to the floor. Landing on his ass/tail base with a startled ‘oof’, just as Maddie sticks her head in the doorway.

Maddie blinks and looks slightly apologetic, assuming she startled him enough for him to mess up with the floating, “oh sorry sweetie, I came up to let you two, four now I guess, know that supper will be ready in half an hour”, then scrunching up her face and realising something’s not right here. Pointing at his tail, “why is It pink, and covered in hearts?”.

Danny has to physically bite his tongue to avoid gapping as he glances down at his tail. What the fuck. It has never been that easy in human form? And he wasn’t even having to maintain it? The fuck?

Sam comes to his rescue near-instantly though, “uh, we wanted to see what would happen if he tried putting normal clothing over It and It just kinda absorbed it”. Maddie can’t help but smile at that, kids will be kids.

Danny awkwardly adding, “and it’s not like the, uh, bandaging is a forever thing, and, uh, I don’t think It would, like, look very good flesh-coloured?”. He, in fact, knew It wouldn’t. His mom makes a face and nods while his friends snicker at him, the assholes.

Maddie tilts her head, a little curious how his tail even did that. This didn’t happen when he had apparently had a hoodie draped over It when he first came home? Maybe -what she’s just going to assume is a ‘gift’ from Pamela for Sam. She will never see eye to eye with that woman. Sure her and Jack did push the kids to be hunters, but they didn’t try to control their entire lives- the pants were fairly tight around his tail? She’d ask but considering he looks a little startled, she’s not going to press. Shaking her head, “well hopefully you can undo it, in case this happens with any clothing you actually care about”, frowning slightly, “I also hope this doesn’t interfere with Dan’s work”.

Danny blinks, still confused enough by his body to be unphased by the Dan name, “uh, yeah don’t wanna go giving him a heart attack”. Everyone shakes their heads.

Maddie electing to head back to the kitchen, “I’ll call when foods ready”, the door closing behind her.

Sam and Tucker look to Danny’s pink heart-covered tail then to his face, “Danny, what the Hell”.

Danny throws up his hands, “I panicked alright!”.

“Since when does your panic help anything?!?”.

“Since now apparently!”.

Jazz blinks, “I’m going to guess this-”, gesturing at Danny’s tail, “- wasn’t intentional”, putting her hands on her hips, “and Danny, you are lucky mom just waved me off to go check on you and stayed in the lab. You’ve been missing for hours. You know how they get". Her chastising earning some apologetic neck rubbing, before Danny emphatically gestures at his tail which suddenly pops into pj-covered legs. Making her jump a little, “oh! Your legs! They grew back!”, quickly moving to sit down on the floor and grab at one of his bare feet. Then glaring at him for suddenly changing back to his tail; leaving her grasping onto the tip of his tail.

Sam and Tucker both jerk a bit from the sudden change themselves, before falling over laughing loudly, the pink heart-covered look was still not flattering. Danny looking baffled doesn’t help either. Though he does eventually snort and start snickering before flopping to lay on the floor laughing with them; Jazz just shakes her head at the trio's antics.

Danny snickers, “I guess the hearts really felt my hearts deepest desires! Really trying to be lovable! Since I was just being a total bleeding-heart earlier!”.

Jazz audibly scowls and stands up, “on that painful note, I'm going to help mom. I’m assuming this leg issue was why you just up and disappeared”. Shaking her head when Sam adds in, “and he fell asleep. In a tree”.

Danny throws out his hands, still laying on the ground, “it’s comfy!”, while Jazz heads downstairs.

Sam eventually glances at the calmly waving tail before looking back to the ceiling, “guess your body got so used to the tail that it comes easier now?”.

Danny huffs, “no fucking clue”, shrugging, “but probably. I doubt I’d even change back automatically from tiredness or sleeping or injury. So you can have your heart back”, intentionally turning back to legs purely to phase off the pj’s dramatically by flinging them up into the air; easily changing back to a bandage-looking tail. This kinda solved his problem, he still had a tail. Easily and naturally so. And! he had legs too! The best two for one deal ever! Which fine, he was glad to have again. Even though it was straight crazy that he could regrow entire limbs. Half his body pretty much. Sure Lewis has ‘said’ they were regrowing but them actually regrowing was a whole-ass-nother thing.

The three watch the pj’s float down out of the air onto their faces, Danny snickering and speaking mockingly, “ahhhh. Heart attack”. Earning hard hits from his friends.

Tucker rolls his eyes, “you already used that one today, and are you just going to stick with a tail all the time now?”.

Danny shrugs noncommittally. The answer was probably yes, in human form anyway. His friends obviously can tell he’s basically come to that decision since they both hit him again, Sam snapping without much feeling, “you fucking idiot”; everyone falling back into silence after,

Danny contentedly winding his tail around their legs. Which fine, he had become more than a little fond of being able to do that and his tail in general. He has a feeling ClockWork would, and probably is, actively smirking over him just sticking to a ghostly tail; just like them. Which yes, only serves to encourage Danny.

(Off in the far off realm of the Ghost Zone, a couple Observants hand trinkets over to ClockWork; having lost various bets. ClockWork simply smirks, one would think they’d know better by now. But no, most of their egos were a smidge too large. But it was a quite enjoyable way to teach the Observants a lesson about the future not being set in stone... And that Daniel tended to take the uncommon (and thus unviewable to the Observants) route)

Danny eventually grunting and lifts up his thermos with his tail, “so Skulker wants to harass the doc for my scraps”.

Tucker snorts, “poor bastard, only just met you and he’s already got a ghostly pest”.

“Oh I don’t know Tuck, seems more like a fast way to put whether or not the friendly-ish sorta cannibal can eat things past their expiration date to the test”. Danny would kinda like to know if Vee could eat him or not. Sure a human definitely couldn’t, ectoplasm was toxic after all. But again, fucking aliens. And Lewis seemingly thinks Vee can eat fucking everything.

Sam pushes herself up to glare down at him, “I find it seriously hard to believe a cannibal is ‘friendly’”. Tucker snickers, “yeah, probably steal your scraps from doctor dude or Skulker for a snack”.

Danny waves his hand around as much as the braces will let him, “oh he’s clearly a real people person. If they wanted my scraps they coulda just shown up in the amputee ward, they’d have some real meals on wheels then”.

Sam smacks him over the head with a very disgusted scowl, “your mind is a fucking sin and that so-called ‘diet’ is even worse”.

Danny smirks, “well if they feel like repenting via a little taste of religion, I know a few annoying priests that show up every month or so”. Seriously, he could really do without those type thinking ghosts were demons, or that Phantom was the ‘anti-Christ’, or Amity was a displaced section of Hell, or that Phantom was the second coming of Christ. Outside of the mixed messages, it was also supremely annoying.

All three jerk a bit from a very loud yell from Tucker’s pocket, “Jesus fucking Christ no! We are not eating a fucking priest! I’m not that depraved!-hey don’t you-I liked that coffee pot, you fucker and now look at it? It’s on the fucking ground. No I am not going to just ‘go get it’, you’re the one that chucked it out the window-no don’t you fucking-!”, followed by some scratching, clattering sounds, and a loud thump.

The three sit up and Tucker cautiously pulls out his PDA and everyone just stares at it. Danny tilting his head, he’s heard that voice before. Poking the PDA with his tail, “huh, I think Eddie hacked your PDA”.

Tucker gives him a look of deep offence before looking back to the PDA in question at the sound of a very long string of swears, “I’m going to fucking strangle you, I fucking swear. Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck you. I’m going to eat nothing but fucking pickles and salad dressing tonight-bitch don’t tempt me or I’ll set it on fire before I eat it-oh my god you baby”, there’s a bit of stomping and a slamming door, followed by what the three are assuming is the sound of glass jars hitting each other, “see look at these fucking pickles!-oh fucking watch me-oh fuck! Gak. They’re fucking expired. Oh god shit. Why me?-shut up bitch”.

Danny and Tucker both bend over wheezing, PDA falling unceremoniously onto the bed. While Sam raises her eyebrows and asks sounding almost annoyed, “why is eating veggies a threat? What’s so hard about eating vegetables? Seriously, what’s the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?”.

Danny snaps his head to her, grins, and shouts, “the wheelchair!”. Sam shoves him off the bed shouting, “that’s horrible!”. Danny just lets himself land on the floor.

“Oh shit! The phone’s still on. Fuck-WHY WOULD A VEGETABLE HAVE A WHEELCHAIR-different kind of vegetable, Vee. Use fucking Google. Living impaired guy, or whatever, is talking about people-PEOPLE ARE NOT VEGETABLES EDDIE! THEY DO NOT GROW IN DIRT-Jesus, just use fucking google holy shit. And-wait a minute, Dead Guy are you seriously using a fucking PDA? No way you’re not old using a fucking PDA, what is this? the fucking nineties?”.

Tucker straightens up and points aggressively at his PDA, “hey! You take that back! You’re gonna hurt Lisa’s feelings! PDA’s are a gift upon us all!”, snatching his PDA off the bed and rubbing his face on it, “don't listen to him sweetie, a phone could never keep up with all your glorious curves and circuits”.

“What the fuck? Is that what I sound like when I say Vee’s better than humans?-YES. LIKE A DUMBASS-fuck you-MY DUMBASS”. Tucker jerks away from the mic and everyone makes disgusted horrified faces at the strange kinda wet sounds.

Sam grimaces deeper, “should we ask?”.

Danny chuckles slightly, “considering Lewis’s tendril comments. No”. He so doesn’t want to hear about that.

A bunch of coughing sounds through the mic, “why is Dan telling people about my se-”, get cut off by the three teens shrieking or shouting and Danny shoving a pillow over the PDA. “NO!”.

Danny peals back the pillow and growls a little, “dude there are minors here, we don’t wanna hear about that shit. Oh my Zone. And I thought Lewis had a near nonexistent filter”.

“Eh whatever. Wait, how many people am I even talking to?-THREE, EDDIE. THERE’S THREE VOICES-well maybe I would have been paying attention to that if someone hadn’t tossed me out a fucking window-PUSSY-bitch”.

Tucker starts wheezing again, muttering, “how does this guy maintain a conversation with anyone?”. Which yeah, Danny slightly agrees with that sentiment.

“Hey, fuck you. It’s my job to talk to people. I’m pretty fucking good at it-OVER HALF THE PEOPLE YOU TALK TO TRY TO KILL US, EDDIE-bitch I don’t see you complaining about that when you get a snack out of it”.

Tucker wheezes a little more, “how have you not been arrested?”, while Danny and Sam scowl at the PDA in disgust.

Danny points at Tucker, “their city apparently supports their people eating. It’s, like, common knowledge”, Sam turns her disgusted scowl to him.

“Debatable. I think the cops are just scared we’ll eat them-WHICH WE WILL-no! We do not eat cops! How many times have I said that?-STILL GOING TO EAT THEM-no we will not!-EDDIE-no!-WHAT ABOUT CHOCOLATE DIPPED?-Jesus fuck. No”.

Sam mock gags, “could we not talk about eating people with a vegetarian present?”.

Tucker gives her a pouty face, “awww come on, we’ve all got our tastes”.

Danny points at him, “usually not people-flavoured though”.

“Isn’t it just like chicken though?”.

“No. No it’s not-MUCH BETTER!-I don’t think you’re a good judge of that babe-I AM AN EXCELLENT JUDGE. KLYNTAR HAVE MANY MORE TASTE BUDS THAN YOU FLESH BAGS”.

Tucker scoffs and crosses his arms, Danny’s already preparing for him to say something stupid. “I’m the real meat conisure here, I’ll be the judge of that”.

“Kid, did you seriously just ask-WE HAVE A SPARE LIVER IF YOU'RE CURIOUS-where the fuck did that come from!?!? Where even was that?!?! What the fuck Vee!?!!?! How many times have I said we don’t do take-out!-NOT AGAINST THE RULES IF NO ONE NOTICES-oh my god. That is not how rules, or the law for that matter, works”.

Danny shoves Tucker, “Tuck, what did I say about asking for snacks? Zone dude. Now they’re gonna show up with a fucking liver in a suitcase and with my luck someone else is gonna find that and think I murdered someone”.

“Finally got another name, nice. And eh you’d be surprised how easy it is to hide murder and body parts. And how much cops are willing to ignore”.

Sam snorts, “smooth spooky”.

Danny blushes a little, whoops, “you have no idea how bad my luck is”.

“Speaking of spooky, figured that echoey voice crap would sound way more fucked over the phone. You don’t even seem to have an echo. And blame whoever has the PDA, do you just not expect anyone to back-hack you? Sure that was some hard shit and I can’t access shit-”, Tucker beams very smugly at this, “-but you hacked me first. What was even the point of that? Even basic research makes it obvious dead guy is based in Amity Park. And you did that just to tell me I got your age wrong-HE’S MORE PETTY THAN YOU EDDIE-that is not a compliment”.

Danny smirks and transforms purely for his ghostly echoing voice, his friends rolling their eyes knowing exactly what he’s doing. Sam speaks almost dryly, “if anything ever gets spooky over here destroyed, it’ll be his sense of humour”.

Danny chuckles deeply, voice reverberating intentionally creepily, “it’ll be the death of me, seeing as I have killer timing”, waving his hand around, “and us spookies are petty creatures. We wear petty like it’s all that makes us pretty”.

“Huh, so you definitely can change your voice. Congrats Vee, your voice isn’t the only one that sounds ridiculously fucking demonic-APPROVE. FAR MORE THREATENING. LIKE A PREDATOR-I don’t think that counts as a compliment either babe-HE HUNTS HIS OWN! IT IS A COMPLIMENT!-eh, I guess? What’s up with that anyway, dead guy?-HE’S A PREDATOR, PREDATORS FIGHT, EDDIE. OBVIOUSLY-says the big bad predator who’d rather become one with the couch in a sea of chocolate wrappers and watch Alton Brown make people suffer-THEY DESERVE TO WEAR FLIPPERS AND ARM SPREADERS FOR BURNING THE LAMB!”.

Tucker nods his head a little, “yeah, burning lamb should be a crime”, while a little buzzing sound comes through the mic.

Danny rolls his eyes at him, “that’s the guy from Cut Throat Kitchen isn’t it? Doesn’t he buy stuff from BDSM stores for those challenges”. Tucker nods with a smirk, “and that’s kinky”, and gets smacked over the head by Sam.

Danny shakes his head and leans over the PDA, “I’m a protective fellow, I beat up ghosties to protect. Ya know, the typical hero schtick, but with death. It’s a real grim job, but I absolutely reap the rewards”, looking to Sam and Tucker, “one day I’m gonna cash in all these trauma points for a fucking yacht”.

Tucker quirks an eyebrow, “why a yacht?”. Sam adding, “you know I’ve got one. They’re okay”.

“One of you has a fucking yacht?!? Anne warned me I’d be out of my depth but holy fuck-NOT HARD WHEN YOU’RE PUSSY MADE-how the fuck do you know that term?!? And just eat your fucking tater tots”.

Danny snorts, “someone’s a real tater thot”, looking at Tucker, “one, because that’s one thing Frootloop doesn’t own”.

“Fair”.

“Wow you are really petty as shit”.

Danny scowls at the PDA, “dude fucking nearly caused the apocalypse, like, four bloody times”, rolling his hand, “and there’s the whole sorta have a daughter, or cousin, or sister, eh it changes; ‘cause of his cloning stunt-”.

Danny doesn’t get to continue as Vee butts in with, “WE’RE SPAWNING ASWELL-what, fucking what? What the fuck do you mean ‘spawning’? No you so do not get to hide in my body after that shit, get the fuck out here bitch. Oh my fuck, what the fuck. This is what Anne means by fucking communication issues. What the fuck you fuck. Jesus fucking Christ. What the fucking shit. That is not how you tell anyone anything, you fuck. Now I want a yacht to sail away from fucking everything and become a fucking pirate. Your oily ass will love that so much because there will be so many lobsters to shove up everyone's collective assholes but especially yours-SAME ASSHOLE SO GO AHEAD BITCH, THAT WOULD BE DELICIOUS-ha! Tricked you with the old lobster summoning, now the fuck do you mean spawning!-”

Tucker whispers, “Zone these guys have so many issues”. Sam and Danny just nod, not wanting to interrupt this because it is, frankly, hilarious.

“IT IS NATURAL EDDIE-I sure fucking hope so, otherwise we’ve got a fair few fucking problems going on-THEN STOP BEING A PUSSY WET BITCH-where do you learn this shit? Fucking fourchan? And excuse me for being an emotional asshole, asshole. I think I’ve fucking earned it considering-”.

All three teens turn their heads as Valerie flies in through the window and deactivates her board at seeing them sitting around a PDA but giving it a wide berth.

“-I’m apparently fucking pregnant!”.

Valerie blinks as her suit deactivates, “what have I just walked in on”. It sounds more like a cautious statement than a question.

Danny points at her, “technically, you flew”, she glares at him while he continues, “Eddie’s having some... issues, apparently”.

“‘Some’?”.

“Oh fuck the phones still on. You heard all of that didn’t you? Fuck-DUMBASS-fuck you, this is your fault. I need a fucking drink”.

Danny chuckles and smirks a bit meanly, “yes, yes we did”.

Valerie shakes her head and speaks down at the PDA, “are you okay?”.

“No”, Eddie promptly hanging up.

Valerie watching the other teens descend into fits of laughter for a bit before asking, “what did I miss?”.

Tucker wheezes, “probably one of the best random meltdowns ever”, smacking Danny’s arm braces, “you should probably warn doctor dude you gave his friend an accidental crises!”.

Danny just chuckles, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone swear that much that quickly. And considering he’s somewhat friends-ish with Johnny, that’s saying something. Pointing at Tucker, “for the love of all the Ancients, tell me you recorded that. Because, by the Realms, that was glorious”. He also totally wants to show Johnny, and Skulker actually, maybe Ember and Kitty; they’d be fucking impressed honestly. Possibly Pandora too, if only for Eddie just straight up going feral rage mode for a bit there.

Tucker nods eagerly with a wide smirk, instantly being granted a high five; even getting one from Sam.

As his mom calls that supper’s ready, Danny pulls out his phone; because he is not calling Lewis while he might be having special time with the bone saw.

DPain: so stormed Area 51 might being having a mild melt down bout being pregnant

DPain: and it might

DPain: possibly

DPain: maybe

DPain: be my fault

Tucker chokes next to him, “dude, you do realise how that sounds right?”. Making Danny facepalm as the four (not three like Maddie was expecting, but she just sets another plate with a smile and head shake) sit at the table; Danny checking his phone when it goes off.

Tiethief: so you’re why I have 11 new voicemails

DPain: 😇

Danny barely gets through his (very mushy, fuck you Jazz) mashed potatoes before there’s a knock on the door. It’s not a scent Danny recognises so he tears off Tucker’s hoodie to cover his tail up. Rolling his eyes at the guy’s scowl, Danny would just blink his tail out of the visible spectrum if his not-in-the-know parents weren’t around. While one of said parents, his mom who hadn’t even sat down yet, gets the door.

“Hello Mrs. Fenton, I’m officer Jared Walker”, the four teens -and Jazz- all choke at that last name and share ‘seriously? Why is this our lives?’ Looks. “I’m here to conduct a welfare check for Daniel Fenton. May I come in?”.

Danny cringes, this probably wasn’t a good thing. FentonWorks wasn’t exactly... safe. Oh who was he kidding? FentonWorks was a mind field of danger and death; and not just ‘cause his dead ass was here. And what if he wants to check out his room? Oh Ancients he absolutely is going to want to check that out. Fuck.

Sam and Tucker obviously have the same worries as they finish their plates and start to move towards the stairs; probably to make a mad dash to his room to make it not look like a probable biohazard.

While his mom obviously lets the guy in, would arguably be worse not to, “sure thing, Danny’s at the table having lunch, his doctor’s doing a final shift at the hospital right now though. You could come back later to talk to him? Or would you like me to call him?”.

Jared steps in and looks at the two teens starting to head up the stairs and then to Valerie, “I’m sure you’d like to hang out with your friend and make sure he’s well, but I’ll have to ask you to leave”, tilting his head not unkindly, “this is a family matter; you understand”.

The three teens obey, because this is a cop for fucks sake; and they like to at least pretend to be proper law-abiding citizens. Sam and Tucker shooting him apologetic looks and Valerie giving him a little forehead kiss as they leave. Danny makes a damn point to make sure his smile doesn’t look painfully nervous.

Jared looks back to Maddie, “that’s quite alright, I’m sure I could get into contact if I need to”. Jazz offers him tea which he declines, “do you think you could go to your room, Jasmine? I’d like to speak with your parents and brother alone if that’s alright?”.

She nods, ruffling Danny’s hair up as she stands, which he of course scowls at and swats her hand away. Even if that, like usual, only accomplishes making her grin at him. Jazz completely ignores Danny’s bedroom door, knowing Jared would likely notice if she tried to go in.

(Sam and Tucker outside both decide that trying to sneak into at least clean Danny’s room wasn’t the best idea. Seeing as they had Valerie as a tag along and there was another cop sitting out in the police cruiser on the curb. Plus, cleaning Danny’s room would take a goddamn while and would be, frankly, disgusting to do. So they just hope Danny’s got something up under his spooky sleeves)

Jared joins the Fenton parents in sitting at the table, sending a smile to Danny, “you doing well today?”.

Danny gives an awkward nod and knocks his hand brace against his chest brace, “I’ll be better once I’m rid of these stupid things”, making the officer chuckle.

“That’ll hopefully be sooner rather than later”, turning to the parents’, “I'm just here to see how things are going, what sort of accommodations have been made or are being made, the state of the house, how school work’s being handled, and to speak with Daniel privately. Standard procedure”.

Jack beams, ever eager to brag about inventions, “we had a hover cushion built for him before he got home! So he’d have a way to get around right off the bat!”.

Danny grumbles at the cop, “I don’t like being carried or pushed around”, which was something of an understatement; his ghostly pride could only take so much of that. And that ‘so much’ was very little, ah the joys of being powerful. Made being ‘weak’ all the more bloody fucking awful. Maddie adds in with a warm smile at Danny, “we did order a wheelchair though”.

Jared looks pleased at this and notes everything down, “hospital approved? And could I see this... hover cushion?”.

Jack jumps up and gives Danny a curious raised eyebrow, “bedroom, next to the door, dad”, Jack nods curtly and bounds up the steps.

Jared raises an eyebrow at Danny, “any particular reason it’s not down here with you?”.

Danny blinks, oh because he wanted to get around on his freaking tail and doesn’t need no damn help to get around. He can’t tell this random cop that though. The tail is abso-fucking-lutely staying a secret if he can help it, “uh, it’s pretty snug and Doc said I should let things breathe here and there”, that’s utter bullshit, but probably accurate for normal amputation wounds. Realising he should probably explain how the Zone he got downstairs without it, “and there’s a pretty big difference between friends and family carrying me and, uh-”, blushing a bit both genuinely and to sell the lie, “-the girlfriend carrying me”.

Jared grins to himself at that, “ah yes, that is pretty different. She handling this well?”.

Danny nods and smiles, she was handling it about as well as most people would; maybe a little better. Him seemingly giving very little of a damn about his ‘leglessness’ probably helped slightly. After all, she did decide to give the whole ‘them’ thing a shot again. Jack comes back with the hover-cushion before he can even attempt to tell the guy any of that.

Jack shows off the device and powers it up, show that it does, in fact, work. Jared blinks and grins, “I’ll admit, I’m impressed”, and makes some more notes in his book, “it alright if I take pictures? Purely for documentation purposes. And the wheelchair?”.

Maddie nods, giving him the go-ahead, while moving to grab up her copy of the documentation for the ridiculous wheelchair Danny ordered and handing that over. “It’s not hospital approved but Dan said it would be fine, he was here when we ordered it”.

Jared nods acceptingly -obviously aware of who Danny’s doctor was- and tilts his head a little, “expensive, you footing the cost if the hospital can’t cover it? This isn’t a standard type either, athletic wheelchair?”.

Danny nods and grins almost meanly, “have you seen Amity?”, should he be sassing a cop? No, probably not. Jared nods a little, while Maddie speaks up, “we can cover the whole bill if needed. So long as Danny’s happy”. Jared nods and smiles at that.

“Alright, I’d ask if there’s been modifications to the stairs but you’ve found a different suitable workaround. Same with if everything has been moved to be in reach”, nodding at his notebook before looking back to them, “so how about schooling?”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, “I’m working on the catchup and homework, uh, keyword being ‘working’”. Jared chuckles at that, typical teen behaviour.

Maddie pats Danny’s head, “Jazz made sure to talk with all his teachers. She’s friends with most of them. Sam and Tucker brought his work home for him”.

Jared raises an eyebrow at that, “and what about you?”. Jack laughs a bit loudly before rubbing his neck, “ah, the school prefers we don’t come unless we have to. We tend to break things”.

Danny’s pretty sure that’s a mark against his parents’ in the cops' book. So he tries to save face a little, “ghost hunting is a pretty destructive job”, he would know. Jared seems to think on that for a beat before nodding.

From what Jared’s heard and seen, ghost hunters were effectively cops here but for ghosts; which were much more dangerous than the average human criminal. He’s not about to fault them for their career. Schools didn’t particularly like cops showing up either, makes people on edge usually. And considering the school turned out to actually be a hot spot for ghosts, ghost hunters showing up out of the blue would absolutely cause at least a little panic.

Jack laughs a bit more, “plus! Frees us up to work more on the CyberSteps!”. Jared quirks an eyebrow at that so Maddie elaborates, “robotic prosthetic legs. Dan’s been helping as well”. Jack grins wide, “yup! Got to make sure they’re perfect!”.

Jared blinks, “you are... making your own prosthetics?”. Danny immediately blurts out, “walked on a prototype already. Not, um, quite good yet”, adding because holy shit he knows this is probably all kinds of illegal, Lewis kinda said so, “doc was there”. He’s going to get Lewis in trouble at this rate. He should probably shut up. Shutting up wasn’t one of his notable skills though.

Jared nods, “so you were... under certified medical care?”. Danny just nods, his folks nodding too. Jared notes that down as well.

Jared is pretty sure there isn’t much to worry about at this point. Bad or abusive parents wouldn’t go to the lengths of creating break through technology. And they were obviously putting the boy first, making him comfortable and happy. But that still didn’t explain certain things and that didn’t mean the house was suitable. From what he’s seen so far the house was... acceptable. Little messy and... odd. There were certainly some strange stains, burns, damages, and technological bits lying around. Certainly unacceptable for a small child, but Daniel was a teen.

Nodding to himself, “I think that covers that. I’d like to look around now”, with that the Fenton parents’ get up. Jared watches the teen easily manoeuvre into the hover cushion contraption, does a little spin in the air, and sends him an awkward smile. Daniel then squints at him and tilts his head, “Jared Walker... as in J. Walker, like jaywalker”, and starts snickering.

Jared rolls his eyes with a smile, “laugh it up kid”, that just makes the teen smirk.

Most of the first floor is marginally normal, acceptable, when Jack very enthusiastically points out the weapons vault though, “is this secure? And this is just for anti-ghost weapons correct?”.

Maddie nods immediately, she could see how a cop might have a few issues with this, “designed to be secure, from both humans and ghosts. Ecto-Fiber glass and sheets block them from getting in intangibly”. Danny mentally grumbles, because he had found that out the hard way and it had been inconvenient on more than one occasion. Jared just nods as they head down to the lab.

Jared glances around before raising a slightly disbelieving eyebrow at the parents’, the amount of hazards here were, honestly, uncountable. Bits of metal (some being very sharp), wiring, chemicals, samples, weapons, glowing... stuff, and the leg creation things.

Jack laughs, “yeah, it can be a bit of a mess! The kiddos are well versed in lab safety though!”. Danny resists pointing out that he usually cleaned the place. That probably wouldn’t win any brownie points.

Jared blinks and gives a rather disbelievingly, “uh-huh”, before responding in genuine, “is this the normal condition of things? And what about supervision while anyone’s down here? It is more than likely Daniel here will be a bit clumsy for a while”, this was unsafe in so many ways.

Maddie ruffles Danny’s hair as he grumbles incoherently and blushes, “Danny’s rather clumsy normally”.

Danny adding, “school still won’t let me handle fragiles”, even though he was much better, fuck you very much. Jared looks just a little unimpressed, he was probably trying to not show the fact that he was not impressed. Which Danny thinks is fair.

Maddie continues, “but yes this is how things usually are. This is the one place where we have a camera system, so it’s pretty secure and we can see if anything’s going on whether we’re home or not. We didn’t allow the kids down here when they were young, and they had to have one of us with them until they could show they knew what they were doing”. Jack butting eagerly, “a family of inventors invent together!”, shrugging, “or at least are all involved in the process”.

Danny looks around awkwardly, well aware that he at least partly died because of crappy lab safety on everyone's part. Jared notes somethings and glances at Danny but says nothing.

What then follows is Jared basically getting the lab tour, asking about nearly everything and taking notes. Eventually coming to the portal, always the last thing his folks showed off since it was their pride and joy, “and this?”.

Danny gives the blunt answer of, “ghost portal”, because screw him, screwing with people was fun. Jared gives him a Look, which Danny can’t help smirking at, before looking to his parents and raising an eyebrow.

Jack laughs and smacks the frame, “yup! This baby opens up right into the spookies backyard!”. Maddie grins and adds, “we use it mostly for research purposes, to return captured ghosts, and as a warning system in case of invasions”, then speaking a bit sternly, “going inside it is strictly forbidden and it has a genetic lock”. Danny tries to make it look like he wasn’t paying attention, seeing as he went through those doors almost more often than his front doors.

Jared still looks rather disbelieving, “you have a portal to another dimension in your basement?”, shaking his head a little, “I mean, I’m glad it has a strong lock. Do ghosts ever come through?”.

Maddie shakes her head a little, “we have used things to pull ghosts through intentionally. Research you know. But as for them coming through on their own? No”. Danny has to bite his tongue to avoid snorting at that, his folks were insanely oblivious. The portal was literally the main entryway into his home. He’s pretty sure the only ones who don’t almost always use it are Skulker and the Box Ghost. Well, and most animal ghosts.

Jared takes that answer for what it is and wonders how the Hell you're supposed to rate ‘has a portal to the dimension of the dead under his bedroom’ on literally any safety scale. He’d say this is something that should be in a government facility but the G.I.W. approval rate was abysmal. And with good reason based on basic research. But side-eyeing the teen, he seemed to give the portal a look of fondness actually... and annoyance; but fond annoyance. So he does make a point to mark down that the kid seemed to like the thing, for whatever forsaken reason.

Jared taps his pen on his notebook, “alright, is there any other rooms other than bedrooms?”.

Danny does the dumb thing and blurts out, “well, there’s the torture dungeon”, making the guy give a very satisfactory choke.

Maddie shakes her head at Danny fondly before looking to the officer, “something’s down there are on the medieval side”. Jack just chuckles, “the stockades are more for storage and old school equipment”.

Danny mumbling, “you mean like the Iron Maiden and other instruments of extreme pain and suffering?”, which Jared thankfully doesn’t hear.

Maddie smiles, “our family have been hunters for generations, so we’ve inherited older tools of the trade”, shrugging, “some that work, some that definitely don't. Family heirlooms really”. Jared nods at that, anything medieval could come off as ‘torture devices’ and he’s starting to get the feeling this teen has a serious sense of humour and likes startling people. Arguably this seemed on par with people keeping their ancestors' old weapons. Meant for ghosts or not.

“Alright, so just the bedroom now. Don’t worry, I only need to see his”, and smiles, totally missing Danny muttering, “and that’s not a good thing”. Jared continuing, “just one more question, regarding the family profession actually. Does Daniel hunt as well? With you? If not, are you training him to? If so, how are you taking into account his disability and healing?”.

Jack scratches his head, “eh, Danny-boy’s not particularly interested in ghost hunting. He is pretty good with tech though! Like every Fenton!”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “so no, they aren’t having me running, or floating, around with guns, shooting sentient beings for sport or science”, and he’s not going to mention his dad sorta trying to get him into weaponised prosthetics. Danny’s pretty sure effectively -literally really- attaching guns and knives and stuff to your kids robo-legs would be a big no-no. Especially to an out-of-town cop.

Maddie smiles and pats his head, “and if he wants combat training, survival training, or anything else of the kind, he can simply ask. I’m trained in a lot of different areas”.

Jared nods at that, “everyone could benefit from that. Good that you’re not forcing it though”, scribbling down a bit more before closing the notebook and tucking it away, “alright, I think I’ve got a good picture of how things are”, sending the parents a slight smile before looking to Danny, “now you feel up to giving this old man the bedroom tour? I’m certain you, like most teens, know it better than your parents do”. Jared absolutely mentally notes that while everyone laughs at that, Danny’s laugh is a little awkward and nervous; he probably had somethings in there he’d rather his parents not know about. He can’t help smirking slightly at that, ah teens. Danny just glares and gestures towards the steps, everyone heading up.

Jared nods at the parents’ as they sit at the table while he heads up to the bedrooms after Danny.

Maddie sitting down with a sigh. Jack speaking up after the two are out of sight, “think he’ll be okay?”. Maddie rubs her eyes, she’s pretty sure them not getting a call about the visit meant there was something else going on, “I don’t know Jack, I’m just a bit worried what Danny’ll say, what he’ll be asked”, looking to her husband, “our house and family isn’t exactly normal or particularly safe, Jack”, biting her lip slightly, “many people might think any child, especially a... disabled one, would be better off somewhere else”. Because at the end of the day, Danny was disabled now, CyberSteps or not. And he had been through what was arguably a traumatic event, he seemed fine but still; she’s sure Jazz was keeping a very close eye on him for that very reason. Most people would want a disabled possibly traumatised injured kid in a safe, sturdy, structured, adaptable, loving home and family. Her family had the last two in spades, but the rest? She be kidding herself if she even tried to think their household was ‘safe’ or ‘structured’. She forgot to get him supper till one a.m. for peat's sake! Not to mention actively and repeatedly testing out prototypes on him. Sure there wasn’t another option but still. Even ignoring that, things in the house often reacted to him; usually seemed harmless but not always.

But at the same time, what family or house could even understand or attempt to support someone like Danny? With his ectoplasm, ghostly tail, and Core? She’s pretty sure Dan was an extreme outlier in being totally unphased by those things, especially being from out of town. And like Dan, her and Jack were doctors. Sure it was in a different way and different fields, but they were effectively Danny’s doctors for his more... ghostly things. If anything Danny needed to be here, with his family, more than most teens needed to be with theirs.

Jack moves to rub her shoulders, “he’ll be fine, he’s a smart kid, Mads. And I’m sure the officer will see that -while weird and unconventional- he’s good here”.

Meanwhile upstairs Danny is hovering over his bed looking more than a little awkward and Jared is glancing around the room in shock. Jared blinks and scrunches up his nose, “kid, this smells worse than the morgue when the ac breaks”, lifting up his foot and putting it back down cautiously, making a faint squelching sound, “you know I’m gonna need an explanation for this”. There’s no pussyfooting around this, this is worse than literally every crime scene he’s ever been to. And he’s based from New York, so that should be saying something.

Danny chuckles and it’s extremely awkward, “yeah, uh, this probably ain’t gonna win me any points, but I like to joke that my room could make a crime scene investigator cry and the cleanup crew quit outright”, shrugging, “I have been meaning to clean, but uh, it doesn’t really bother me”.

“Kid, that ain’t normal. And that also doesn’t answer how this happened”. Jared is seriously hoping he isn’t dealing with some killer kid situation. Those were awful.

Danny rubs his neck, not entirely sure there’s any way out of this, he pretty actively screwed himself here, “uh, besides me not being very clean being a factor, you’re probably standing in a cesspool of pop, coffee, energy drinks, some cleaning solution stuff from when I actually mildly attempted to clean and just dumped it on the floor and shoved it around with my foot, probably some decomposed food, ectoplasm, and yeah, uh, blood”, then wincing slightly, because yeah, not impressing mr. Cop.

Jared glances to the floor, blinks, and looks back to the teen. Teens were lazy sure, but this was something else. This was beyond unsanitary, this was a downright biohazard and completely unliveable. And he might know the what, but the why? Heck, even the how. For the carpet alone to be this soaked, “whose blood. And the ectoplasm? Kid, for your floor to be this soaked you’d have to have dumped literal bucket loads of liquids on it. Bucket loads”. And watches the teen actively wince, obviously aware of this fact.

Danny looks around, actively avoiding eye contact, “I mean, you’re not wrong. My room’s kinda the ‘hang out’ spot, I guess, for me and my friends. So it’s not strictly my mess”, shrugging, “Tuck’s probably left a fair amount of meat scraps around and I’m pretty sure Sam’s trying to grow a rare fungus in one corner”. Valerie’s probably left a gun or two around too, but he’s not going to mention that.

“Kid, you have got to be kidding me. I know Amity is strange, but this is a little beyond”.

Danny shrugs again, looking back to the guy, “sorry pal, I’m probably certifiably the strangest kid in the entire town. Me and my friends are literally known as the weirdo trio. Sometimes the defect quartet when Val’s with us”, smirking a little to himself and knowing Sam will love him for this, “we are the weirdos mister”, and grinning cheekily.

Jared blinks very slowly, this teen just quoted a movie at him in response to him pointing out this was insane and that this floor was a biohazard. He blinks again and elects to just... ignore that, “still waiting on that ‘why’ for the... floor”.

Danny chuckles a bit meanly at the freaked cop before shaking his head a bit aggressively and looking around awkwardly, “ah, uh, it’s mostly, ah, mine? Which yeah I know is probably, like, super concerning. But it’s fine”, no point even trying to lie here, because a bloody fucking cop absolutely could just sample his floor and test it for, well, everything. And if he could avoid Tucker having to hack the fucking cops any more than he already did, by being just slightly honest. Then that’s what he’s gonna do.

Jared blinks again, arms slack at his side, before walking over and sitting down next to the teen on the bed. Daniel following suit by letting the hover thing float down to ‘sit’ him on the bed; this kid could read people at least a little, “buckets of blood is not ‘fine’, Daniel. And the ectoplasm?”, readjusting slightly, “honesty for honesty?”, something tells him this particular teen was well versed in dishonesty, “the main reason I was sent here is because of some things the first responders and nurses noticed. Namely, that you have a lot of... scarring. Unusual scarring. Does that have anything to do with the state of your floor?”, he’s making a point to try and be gentle here. This officially looked less ‘killer kid’ more ‘battered kid’.

Danny resists muttering ‘ah fuck, Ancients goddamnit’ out loud; talk about suspicious. He knew one day his scars were going to come and bite him in the ass. What is he supposed to say here? Obviously not the truth. Just ‘oh hey random cop dude, I fight ghosts totally not on the down-low but also technically on the down-low because it’s, like, a super-secret. Y’ know, like most superheroes. And ghosts are, like, totally really into maiming me. Also I’m kinda sorta a little bit kinda dead. So there’s that. My parents and girlfriend also shoot me sometimes, but you totally won’t report that to CPS, right?’. Alright, activate secret protection tactic three; sass and annoy ‘till they leave you the Zone alone. Ancients give him strength, “well first, I really do prefer Danny. I’m totally fine, cool as a cucumber or whatever. And welcome to Amity pal, people get hurt here a bloody lot. Couple abductions here and there, the occasional light stabbing; y’ know the usual. I get that you’re from outta town but that near non-existent crime rate means nothing”, shrugging and leaning back on his elbows, “and yeah the ecto’s mine too, so what I’m a little spooky? Not everyone’s full-blooded legged humans you know”.

Jared practically flinches back from the sudden change in behaviour. So that’s a check on him being defensive of his scarring. But there was no mention of his parents anywhere there, not to defend them or even to try and claim it wasn’t their fault. So, it’s probable his parents aren’t at fault here. Obviously something was going on, had to be for him to have more scarring than war vets. ‘Nearly more scars than flesh’ they had said. Though oddly his doctor had said nothing on the matter, even said the kid was fine; and he definitely did not report the state of the kids bedroom, which definitely deserved reporting. Furrowing his eyebrows at the kid, who doesn’t drop the ‘insufferable teen who just wants to be left alone and thinks you can shove it’ act for the previous nervous cautious behaviour. The doctor probably knew whatever was going on, or was very corrupt and seriously didn’t give a damn, “does your doctor know the reason behind the scarring?”, thinking on what Danny said, “and you have ectoplasm?”, that... that was a new one.

Danny huffs and rolls his eyes, his ecto-contamination was at least somewhat public knowledge in Amity. Dude would hear about it sooner or later, “yeah? So what?”, scowling a little at the cop, “don’t be givin’ doc shit, he’s cool. Knows when shit doesn’t need no reporting, shouldn’t be reported or recorded. I’m fine. My ‘situation’ or whatever, is fine. Perfectly peachy. Just stellar. We done here?”. Danny is probably not earning any good karma points here.

Jared blinks, okay, protecting his doctor was definitely not typical abuse victim behaviour. So definitely not the parents’ fault then. He seemed to be blaming Amity itself or the ghost issue instead. Which yes, this town was insanely dangerous and a lot of people -kids included- had scarring; but not to that degree. Maybe he got targeted more because of being related to hunters? Mentally pausing, or maybe he was a hunter and his parents -for some asinine reason- didn’t know? But then again, he said he wasn’t ‘shooting sentient beings for sport’ so maybe there was a conflict in ideals? Maybe he disagreed with his parents so he didn’t want them involved or putting in their two cents? That was fairly common in the force and other departments. But he was also implying that reporting this in any way -not just to his parents- was bad. So maybe something else was going on, or was he referring to having ectoplasm in his body. There were too many variables here, “that depends. Are you in any danger? You need to give me something here kid, Danny. ‘Cause right now your ‘situation’ seems decidedly not fine. Especially since you clearly get hurt a lot yet have an almost impressively sparse medical file”.

Danny huffs some more and rolls his eyes, okay, this wasn’t exactly... working, “I'm fine. I’m just a little ecto and Amity’s just a little dangerous”, sighing, “so no, I’m not in danger. In the past or now”. ‘But I fucking will be if you chase my shit’ being left unsaid.

“And in the future?”.

Danny levels the guy with a serious steely expression and puts just a tiny hint of power into his voice, tail coiling around invisibly, “I will be if you don’t butt out”, maybe warning the dude will get him to fuck off with this?

Jared blinks and nods, not entirely feeling like he’s actually talking to a minor here; which said a lot, “from?”.

Danny scowls, “not my family. Or friends. Or the doc. Or ghosts, for that matter”, Ancients dude, would you just drop it already?

“That doesn’t leave a lot of possibilities”.

Making Danny glare, “not your business”. Jared sighs and shakes his head a little, “it rather is. It’s my call what happens here, doctor turning the cheek or not”.

Danny scowls at him again, growling slightly because he is honestly getting frustrated here, “a little bit ecto, in the eyes of the government, equals a lot bit not deserving of human rights. And thus a very nice easily findable Christmas wrapped subject for some really nasty things I’d rather not experience”.

Jared blinks a few times, that was... not what he was expecting. But that would explain not wanting things reported, never going to hospitals, not wanting people to look into things, the doctor getting him out of the hospital abnormally quick and coming along, etcetera. Thinking of that, didn’t one of the secretary’s mention government agents showing up? Alright, so this kid was being testy for good reasons. Being defensive to literally defend himself... from his own government. Alright, the best thing he can do for the kid was to do nothing. To fudge his notes and report. Leave in the general weirdness but nothing that would encourage further investigating. This situation was officially way beyond his pay grade. Still though, his priority here was the kid's safety and welfare; not whether or not the government? knew he was ‘a little bit ecto’? “Alright then. Legally I should absolutely report this-”. He doesn’t even get to finish as Danny cuts in with an actual snarl, “and doc shoulda absolutely dragged me back to the hospital, your fucking point?”.

“Jesus kid, I’m trying to extend an olive branch here”, Jared shakes his head when all the teen does is huff, “I’m not saying I’m going to. The governments slightly dangerous opinions and interests in ghost stuff ain’t in my salary”.

Danny tilts his head and watches the guy for a beat, he seemed honest enough, “so you’re not going to mention my ecto-contamination, questionably bio-hazardous room, battered body, or being overly self-sufficient?”. Talk about dodging one Hell of fucking bullet. Holy Shit.

Jared blinks, okay this kid knew exactly what was up with his stuff. “I should, but I think I’m going to opt-out of doing that. Seems like that would do more harm than good”, leaning forwards a bit, “but when you say self-sufficient...”.

Danny rolls his eyes but relaxes some and lays back on his bed, he’s keeping his damn tail invisible and whatnot though, “put it this way man, Lewis thinks I’m a better surgeon than his lackies and I make a mean lasagna that doesn’t randomly gain sentience and try to stab people with knives”.

“Alright, I shouldn’t have asked”, his scars were self-treated, that... that is entirely unacceptable. And he’s just not going to ask about the Fenton parents’ apparently questionable cooking skills. Danny just snorts. So Jared speaks back up, “I take it ecto-contamination is the proper term for being ‘a little ecto’? And that it’s different from the general kind that -according to multiple sources- basically everyone in this town has? Even though your parents failed to mention it. I imagine this probably affects health and care”. ‘Contamination’ pretty firmly implied it being a health thing.

Danny sighs, “‘cause I got it from blatantly and aggressively ignoring nearly all forms of lab safety. Which would probably be a mark against them in your little book. But yeah fine, my ecto is little more unique. Common knowledge, though not really your business”.

“Again, it rather is. But I guess that’s understandable. Does it affect your health and care though? I would prefer to attempt to be thorough”. He’s glad he’s not wearing a wire or body-cam.

Danny looks him over and nods a little, yeah dude could probably get fired for not reporting all this crap. Would kinda make him a dick for no real reason to not answer that, “fair enough. It does, but my folks are pretty aware though. And they’re basically the leading ectologists. If they don’t know how to handle me, then no one does”, no one entirely human anyway.

Jared nods, enough information to be an answer, vague enough to tell him practically nothing. Kid’s smart. Grunting, “good enough”, squinting, “wait, would another family even be able to look after you effectively?”.

Danny snorts and actually laughs, “are you kidding? No, of course not”, as much as his parents being his parents resulted in ghostly injuries and being actively hunted and endless amounts of paranoia; it also saved his half-ghostly ass left right and centre. This legless/leg optional situation would be a bajillion times worse if he didn’t have parents that could build legs and get them to work with his spooky ass.

Jared shakes his head disbelievingly, so it didn’t even matter how he was being treated/looked after; he literally couldn’t get suitable treatment anywhere else but here. No wonder the doctor wanted him home, on top of the government trying to do who knows what. The doctor was actually looking out for his patients' best interests. “Well then I guess it’s best you’re home then. On that note, how are you coming along treatment wise? Healing well? And the prosthetics?”.

Danny snorts, “back to normal people questions huh?”, pushing himself up onto his elbows again, “my healings fine. Doctor approved. CyberSteps are getting there. My ecto’s ‘causing issues but also only reason they’ll feasibly work”, looking the cop over and tilting his head, “you're asking me shit, so I’mma ask you shit. You got any dead relatives who were really into white and a real stickler for rules. Maybe was a prison warden or sherif in the nineteen hundreds? Or maybe a mafia member that went to jail? Has a thing for black fedoras?”, he has to ask, ‘cause it would be just his luck to get stuck with a relative of Walker’s. Not to mention a relative of Walker’s that isn’t a dick and doesn’t utterly despise him. Yet at least.

Jared raises both eyebrows a bit disbelievingly, “Cordell Walker was a mafia member that worked up to being a prison warden after serving time there, nineteen hundreds yeah. How did you know that?”. Jared is insanely confused and a bit freaked out. Shaking his head, “that’s... good that the prosthetics might actually work”.

Danny glares at him and mutters, “Ancients seriously? Why me”, tilting his head and laughing, “wait so he actually was a criminal?”, then starts laughing at Jared’s confused nod, “oh my Zone! HAHAHAHA oh man! I am so bugging him about that. Oh he’s not living that down!”, pausing to snort before adding, “literally not living that down”, and flops to lay down on the bed, laughing more. Waving his hand at the confused cop, “don’t worry about it. It’s just- wow haha. It’s just that your great-grandpa, or whatever, locked me in jail a couple times”, continuing at Jared raising his eyebrows almost comically, “he’s the warden of a ghost prison just inside the portal. So, uh, congrats I know your family. He kinda hates me though so. And he’s kinda a dick, no offence”.

Jared blinks, “I... don’t think I have a response for that and I’m pretty sure this almost qualifies as a conflict of interest”. There isn’t any kind of training for ‘subject knows your dead relative and was apparently arrested by them once’. Swallowing, “what did he... arrest you for?”.

Danny blinks and laughs awkwardly, “uh, first time was driving illegally pretty much. Second, possession of illegal... things. And after that there’s been a lot of other things. Something like ten jail breaks slash destruction of prisons. Probably gives me another assaulting an officer and resisting arrest charge every time he sees me. Honestly man? He’d arrest me just for existing”, tilting his head, “I think he actually has arrested me for that”, chuckling, “like I said, he hates me and he’s a dick. Pretty sure he’s got a cattle prod with my name on it, literally. One of my scars is from him attempting to brand me”.

Jared blinks really harshly at that, he had heard Cordell was a sadist but Christ, “Jesus, that is insane in all honesty. I had heard some... less than pleasant horror stories about him but that seems a bit... much. He was the first cop in the family though, and many of us did brag about having mafia roots as kids”, shaking his head, “I certainly still do”. And this teen apparently destroyed prisons, what is up with this kids life?

Danny snorts, “I would too”, ‘cause come on, having roots to the mafia is just plain cool. Shrugging, “I could give you a really wild story to take back and uh, set up a meeting or something? Y’ know, in return for not possibly getting me tortured and killed? Or having to hack your police system stuff?”.

“Are you... bribing an officer?”, Jared is out of his depth with this kid, and he is absolutely positive he has a very mischievous side and very little regard for the legality of things.

Danny snorts, “not even close to the most illegal thing I’ve done. And might please Walker- uh, ghost Walker, some”, shrugging, “technically I’m bribing two officers”, and smirks devilishly.

Jared is pretty sure he shouldn’t be encouraging this, but this was... an opportunity that really was otherwise impossible. Meeting long-dead family that were something of a legend was quite the offer, “you are a rather sneaky teen, aren’t you? I can’t say I’m going to turn that down. But are you really well enough to do something like that?”.

Danny snorts and mutters, “if I’m well enough to get punched in the face, then I think the fuck so”. Jared pretends he didn’t hear that, he’s decided he really just doesn’t want to know. Danny looks to him, “eh, it’ll be fine. Just maybe don’t call him Cordell, dead-naming a ghost is a good way to get stabbed or shot or maimed or a lot of other painful things. He just goes by Walker now”.

Jared nods dutifully, yup he’s officially ‘compromised’ and no longer unbiased with this case. Best he keeps that to himself though, kid’s probably banking on this being a way to ensure he keeps his mouth shut. This kid was bolder than he seems, definitely not as ‘in the background’ or nervous as he acted at first. That was probably just a tactic to avoid people looking into his shit.

Danny smirks, “cool, I’ll coax him into the mortal realm at some point. Gives me an excuse to annoy the heck out of him”.

“You’re more of a trouble maker than I pegged you for. Please avoid breaking the law to do that”.

Danny blinks, “uh, no?”, activating the hover cushion and hovering around his room to adjust somethings, “so, any more questions that are ultimately pointless?”.

Jared quirks an eyebrow, “honestly? No. Since you’re right, there isn’t any point. But I really should ask what kind of punishments you get?”, he’ll get more than just looked at funny if he doesn’t ask the most basic child abuse question out there.

Danny shrugs, “a stern talking to? Maybe them having a meeting with a teacher and scaring them? Another parent/son bonding thing that turns into getting almost eaten by swamp monsters or getting abducted by the mayor and hunted for sport by his personal ghost science experiments? Getting shown more videos about how not doing my chores will blow the house up and kill everyone?”.

Jared glares at the kid who smirks, “do you just want me to have to scrap everything?”, grumbling to himself and jotting down in his little book, “I’ll just write down the first two”, before looking back to the kid, “what are your chores anyway?”.

Danny smirks, no point lying now might as well go all in, “cleaning the lab. Yup, the ecto-contaminated kid that reacts to hunter tech and ecto is the one who cleans the place filled with those things”, why his parents had him clean the lab was beyond him, not that he minded. Was a good excuse to snoop new inventions or drop off a ghost or two in the portal. Speaking of that, what the heck’s he gonna do with Skulker? If he releases the dude he’ll probably chase down the doc. Eh he’ll warn the guy to keep a bone saw on hand or something. Chuckling at the cop, “also vacuum the walls sometimes”.

Jared blinks, “neither... neither of those are normal. You have got to be kidding me. Why?”.

Danny shrugs, “no idea man. Though now I don’t have any chores, well except the chore of healing”, and floats over to the door, gesturing to it, “so we done? Cool to leave the crime scene?”.

Jared stands and lifts his phone, “I actually need to take some photos of your room, so maybe try to make a section not completely nightmarish?”.

What then proceeds is the two moving around a few things and Danny dumping a pile of cloths over a particularly unpleasant looking square of carpet, so Jared can get his photo. He also takes photos of the star-covered ceiling, hand-built rocket models, and his computer video-game set-up. Noting the space flight simulators, “you a fan of space? I have a cousin who’s an astronaut you know”. Danny zips right over into his face, causing him to fall on his ass, Danny stays in his face and follows him though, “what! Oh my Zone! What missions have they been on?!? Wait, have they been on any?!? Did they get to go to any planets?!? Or a satellite?!? What was the recovery like?!? Oh! Oh! What’s wearing an actual spacesuit like?!?...”.

Alright, Jared thinks, this kid was a little freaky and was officially seriously freaking him out. Interrupting Danny’s word vomit, “uh... I don’t know? I think ‘like’ might have been an understatement, you’re a bit... obsessive”.

Danny huffs and glares at the guy, how, no seriously how could he not know? Not ask? “You disappoint me, and shut it. Side-effect of the ecto”, practically hissing, “and I’m interested, not obsessive”. He knows a little echoey ghostliness came out there ‘cause space is not his Obsession.

Jared nods slowly and blinks at the wide-eyed teen that he’s pretty sure hasn’t blinked in a while, “uh sure thing. Could I... maybe get off the floor?”, which now that he’s not focused on the kid going a bit crazy, he’s noticed said floor is a bit more than foul-smelling.

Danny stares a little more and realises he’s effectively pinning the guy without actually touching him, backing off but grumbling, “deserved it, family goes to space maybe and you don’t know shit about it? Ridiculous. At least Lewis would ask”, Lewis was a curious dude, Vee just didn’t know shit.

Jared gets up slowly and makes a point to get out of the kids bedroom, the kid shooting him glares like he’s committed a crime the entire time.

Jasmine sticks her head out of her bedroom too, “everything alright and good now?”, looking from the slightly freaked cop to her slightly wide-eye brother who’s grumbling incoherently, “Danny stop frightening the guests”. Danny grumbles incoherently a bit more but in ghost just to be creepy because let it be known, he was a dumbass.

Jared studiously ignores the... sounds? the kid is making and lifts up the notebook, “we’re good here. My partner’s waiting so I should get going”. Jared heads down the steps, spotting the sister putting her hands on her hips and looking unimpressed at Danny, “what is wrong with you Danny? Are you trying to make him suspicious?”.

“His cousin is an astronaut and he knows nothing, fucking nothing, about that?...”, and looks to start wide-eyed ranting, which Jasmine looks fond? over. This family was... weird.

Nodding his head at the parents, who smile and look relieved. Telling him they were rather... aware, things weren’t really acceptable here. And here he was not reporting that because of a bribe of all things, and honestly? after that performance, he’d rather not see what that kid’s like mad. That’s not mentioning how awkward working with the Fenton’s would be if he did report this. Again, they were basically cops here; their own ecto-department, alongside the Red Huntress.

Maddie jumps up to get the door while Danny and Jazz come down the stairs to see him off, only for Danny’s ghost sense to go off and a (very manly) scream sounding from outside. Everyone rushing to the door to see Ember literally standing on the cop car hood, her stomping on the windshield with one boot and telling the ‘piggy to lick her boots’ and moving to strum her guitar.

Danny’s folks of course run out guns blazing, while he silently slips into the background to transform; and Jared rushes over to his partner, grumbling about Chester being more of a greenhorn than him. Chester, meanwhile, is wide-eyed, back stiff, and clutching his chair seat for dear life.

Danny Phantom flies out -with his ghostly legs being, in fact, legs- to the sight of the cops trying to peel out of here while shooting their standard issue ecto-pistols at the ghost. His parents chasing said ghost, who’s of course mocking them and sticking out her tongue.

Ember shouting, “babypop!”, as soon as she sees Danny and floating straight at him. So he does the smart thing and leads her on a little goose chase. Which, in typical fashion, results in him getting a guitar powered fist-shaped sound wave punch straight into the side of a building.

She shouts at him, “my babypops been missing a while Phantom, know anything ‘bout that?!”. Danny snickers, “you know, you calling us both babypop raises some serious questions”.

“Oh can it”.

Making Danny laugh and shakes his thermos a little, “already canned the tin can. Care to join? Not sure how much makeout room there is though”. Which promptly gets him slammed into the road, “keep this up and I’ll put a cement lock on the thermos!”.

She rolls her eyes and readies her guitar again, “that won’t work, we can phase through cement, dipstick”.

Danny pauses and holds up a finger, “actually, my folks are making a mass-producible ecto-cement”, shrugging, “which I’m sabotaging because oof, imagine slamming into a ghost proof wall mid-battle?”.

Ember chuckles, “yeah, would really ruin the vibes. Speaking of vibes, try these sound waves out”, and turns the nob to something Danny’s pretty sure is new. Great. Watching, and failing to dodge, a pink line of sound slice through the air... and his shoulder.

Danny watches the arm go flying into someone’s garden, “wow, some really cutting edge beats you’ve got there”, and promptly dodges another pink line.

The fight again pausing when the dude who owns the garden throws Danny’s arm back at him, which he just lets it bounce off the side of his head, “way to get dismembered asshole!”.

Danny holds up a finger to Ember, “one second”, looking to the guy as Ember crosses her arms. Danny snatching his arm out of the air and tucking it under his armpit, “okay first off, dismemberment requires multiple limb removal; I only lost one. Two, I’ll admit my arm wouldn’t make very good fertiliser, but was that really necessary? And three-”, smirking, “-thanks for the hand. I’ll make sure to put my act together. Got to stay handsome after all”. Turning to Ember and speaking quiet enough the scowling guy won’t hear; though Ember shooting him a few miles away into a tree helps, “got a girl to impress, ya know. I like to think she prefers the whole over bits and bites”.

That gets Ember to pause and actually smile, if this were a video game a little ‘!’ would have likely appeared over her head, “oh! You’re dating again? The goth? I’d ask if it was the techy but you said girl”.

Danny throws his hand out to the side, “why do you all always think I’m dating them?!?”.

Ember snorts, rolls her eyes, and puts a hand on her hip, “your two humans are attached at the hip to you. How are you not dating them?”.  

Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, “we’re close so what? I’m a protective asshole who likes to keep what’s mine close. Fuck off. I’m dating Red for your information”.

Ember giggles and shakes her head, “silly boy, and nice to see your death wish is still intact”, readying her guitar to restart their battle, “she know you’re one of us yet?”.

Danny chuckles as he stretches out his torso to avoid another fist blast, “naw, that info’s still ghosting her”, earning both another head shake and a pink slicing blast from the ghost.

Meanwhile, Lewis is just now taking his last shift break. Flipping through the Amity news because again, being prepared is nice and Danny’s a verifiable walking time bomb for physical injuries. And surprise surprise Phantom him is currently practically eating a tree with his face fighting some rocker chic. Eddie would probably ask her for a night of fun or something; though she might might be a minor. Maybe? It’s hard to tell. Well whatever, she’s currently smacking Danny over the head with her guitar. Squinting at the screen before sighing, the kid’s arm is definitely not attached to him. So check his arm brace, check his stitch work, make sure his bones are aligned right. Watching him get hit over the head again, maybe he should ask if Danny even can get concussions; he hopes not.

Quirking an eyebrow at his phone ringing, pausing the video, “hello?”.

“Dr. Dan Lewis? This is Jared Walker from the Amity police department”.

Lewis sighs, why does he feel like Danny’s at fault for this, “yes?”. Just the same as Eddie is literally always at fault whenever the San Francisco police call.

“I just finished up with a welfare check on Daniel Fenton, and just wanted to confirm that he’s indeed medically alright and that someone other than the Fenton parents’ are keeping an eye on the kid”.

Lewis grimaces, oh no way that went well, “he’s better than anyone else would be, so he’s quite fine; no need to worry. After this shift I’ll be taking something of a leave to stay at the Fenton household, I do intend to keep a rather close eye on him. That is my job after all. Do you need anything from me for your report?”. Danny must have done something to keep this guy from just outright reporting that the house was ridiculously unsafe.

“No, that’s alright. I think I’d rather not know whatever it is you do know”, alright so Danny definitely did something, something a ‘normal’ person wouldn’t really approve of, “so long as there’s someone more... responsible, watching him I’m not going to concern myself. Try to get him to clean his room, I doubt this’ll be the last time someone raises the alarm about that kid. I doubt ‘I know your dead grandparent’ is something he can pull again. And most less seasoned cops would not have reacted well to nearly being assaulted”.

Lewis sighs, Danny seriously can not keep his nose out of trouble. Though assaulting a cop is something he’d expect from Eddie not Danny. Though in Eddie’s case, the cop wouldn’t be alive to talk about it. “I’ve told him as much. I do hope my patient wasn’t too much of a hassle, he can definitely be a bit odd. Though that’s hardly unusual for the family”.

“Oh I’m aware. That kid is a bit more.... startling though. I don’t envy you. Thanks for taking my call, I imagine you’re a busy man”.

Lewis chuckles, “he hasn’t tried to kill or eat me yet, so he’s a fairly enjoyable patient. Very interesting. Have a good day”.

“Yeah...”, Lewis is pretty sure he hears the guy mutter, “what is up with people today? Everyone’s a goddamn nutcase”, before hanging up. Lewis barely gets the time to chuckle down at his phone before it pings from that private server Phantom chat.

DPain: so

DPain: that spooky from fore might

DPain: might

DPain: be lowkey coming for you for my scrappy bits

DPain: also

DPain: mighto scared a cop

NightShade: made pig squeal

Tiethief: so he told me

Tiethief: should I just give the spooky what he wants?

DPain: put it in a present, throw it at his face screaming bomb!

PDAxpda: not like you need it

NightShade: n tinman might actually stab you or something if you don’t

Tiethief: that is a rather convincing argument

Lewis tosses his phone into the tray, hopefully this ghost doesn’t show up mid-surgery.

And he showed mid-surgery. Very mid-surgery. As in, hands in someone’s intestines kind of mid-surgery with a number eleven scalpel. All his underlings just hug the walls, or slowly move out of the room, effectively leaving him holding a guy together by himself at the table. Cowards. Lewis swallows and is impressed with himself at sounding calm and slightly bored, “do you mind? I am rather busy. The secretary could give you a number if you need something”.

“Where’re the whelps skinnings?”.

Lewis sighs, lifts up the hand holding the scalpel and points it at the ghost, “rude. As I said, I have my hands full. And I imagine the ‘whelp’ wouldn’t appreciate my patient keeling over from your pestering”. Here’s hoping the ghosts are sorta friendly with Danny at least slightly and really are against using someone's Obsession for a cheap shot.

Skulker blinks and internally winces slightly, well aware of the whelps protective Obsession, “fair play to you. I will wait. Here”, and nods curtly.

Lewis raises a very disbelieving judgmental eyebrow, “no you’re not. I somehow doubt you are even close to sterile. And I would rather not have to explain to his wife how he mysteriously got ecto-contamination during surgery”. Lewis is honestly surprised the ghost tilts his head, shrugs, and just... leaves. Ghosts were very interesting. Though he’s not about to hang up his doctor coat for the ghost hunter spandex.

Brittney walks up next to him, shaking slightly and readjusting her glasses, “Dan?”.

Lewis simply gets back to work, gesturing the others over, “yes?”. Thankfully they listen and also thankfully no one passed out on him this time.

Brittney swallows, “what the fuck”. Which just makes Lewis chuckle.

Two hours later Lewis snaps off his gloves into the trash and turns sideways to nearly crash right into the ghost. Sighing, ghosts were incredibly determined bastards. Looking at the ghosts grinning face, “this better not become routine or I’ll have to start removing your organs or something along those lines. You’re already dead, so it wouldn’t count as malpractice”.

“If you make a habit of taking parts of the whelps pelt, then gladly”.

Lewis tilts his head, that was kind of tempting; but he’s pretty sure he’ll pass. “He doesn’t need it so I don’t see why I would”, now to figure out how to deal with this, he didn’t exactly have Danny’s scraps on hand; though he had been effectively given the go-ahead. Eh he’ll just walk out to his car, slowly, and drive home, slowly. Peoples reactions could be interesting and annoying the ghost might discourage him from doing this again. He could do without ghosts showing up in his ER. Walking off and gesturing for him to follow, “follow”.

Skulker raises a metal eyebrow, “very few would dare turn their backs on the mighty Skulker”. Impressed or insulted? The doctor had turned his back on the best hunter in all the Zone at their previous encounter. And the doctor had already threatened him with a weapon. So Skulker’s leaning towards impressed.

Lewis chuckles, “if you hurt me I have one friend who’ll beat you up and another who would eat you; or at least very aggressively try to”, tilting his head as he walks, “and a fiancée who would sue you out of your lair and everything you own”. Glancing at Skulker, who of all things looks impressed.

Skulker nods curtly, “you and the whelp run in fine circles”, explains this new apparent human pet. The little whelply Prince wasn’t one for acquiring new pets.

Lewis chuckles as they pass a few nurses who looking to be trying to point out the hulking metal ghost following him like he somehow hadn’t noticed, speaking towards them, “I’m aware. Just ignore him”, then addressing said ghost while the nurses undoubtedly add this to the gossip mill, “you seem impressed”.

Skulker laughs, “a good prize should be impressive! The boys accomplishments are many, he is strong, and he is rare”, and grins more than a little viciously.

Lewis pauses as they get halfway across the parking lot, turning to Skulker, “so you respect him then. You care”, shrugging, “in a way”.

Skulker huffs and very obviously pretends to not give a damn, “a hunter respects the hunt and fellow hunters, that is all. And it wouldn’t due for him to fail to someone pathetic and unworthy”.

Lewis can’t help but laugh, “a friend of mine is like him, none of their enemies respect them. They just don’t want them to murder them. Mind you, most of their enemies die the first time they meet”. Lewis pulls out his phone as Skulker grunts, “skilled hunter”, which Lewis nods at as he walks.

Tiethief: metal spooky with lots of guns already here and apparently respects you

Tiethief: but is also trying to pretend he doesn’t

Tiethief: he is not a good actor

DPain: eh

DPain: he’s helped me the odd time

PDAxpda: well that was fast

PDAxpda: guy knows what he wants

DPain: he isn’t trying to hurt you is he

Tiethief: no

Tiethief: no need to be overprotective

Tiethief: I’m just taking him to get scraps slowly

Tiethief: very slowly

DPain: *snort* hahahaha food

DPain: *good

NightShade: make him swear not to tell vampireass monochrome’s leggy situation in return

DPain: oh shit

DPain: smart

DPain: why didn’t I think of that

PDAxpda: ‘cause you’re a dumbass

NightShade: our dumbass

DPain: hsiabdajbfje

DPain: rocker just asked if I was dating you assholes and you go and say shit like that

Lewis shakes his head as he hops into his car, sending off a final, Tiethief: you’re young, live a little, before driving off; being followed by a freaking ghost. He knows the punning he probably just encouraged but that only makes him smirk at the other two teens expense. They messed up his patient files and made Eddie practically blow up his phone while getting insanely dangerously drunk and probably killing someone to blow off steam (neither of which was all that uncommon but still; doesn’t mean he wanted that bad habit encouraged), paybacks a bitch; and apparently punny.

By the time he gets to his place he’s pretty sure the ghost is suitably annoyed. Heading in, he’s glad Anne’s still at work, better to not drag her into this. Not that she would likely mind. Would handle it with the controlled grace and power she always did. Glancing at the ghost as he moves to one of the closets, “now this stays between us, no need for Vlad to know. As far as that old friend of mine knows Danny never lost his legs. We are messing with him some”.

Skulker huffs, “I only tell him anything because he pays me”, taking a bag from the doctor guy and glancing inside. Grinning extremely maliciously, “and this outweighs any money or upgrades”.

Lewis nods and puts his hands on his hips, “another form of payment for this little gift could certainly be leaving Danny alone enough to study. He'd make a nice surgical assistant”, smirking, “he’s very good with a knife and stitch work”.

Skulker tilts his head and chuckles, “pestering the whelp is half the point. The potential of him spending his human time cutting people up and taking others scraps is tempting though”. Making the Prince even more of a little hunter was very tempting. He cared not one bit for that space whatever human job he was chasing before. So the boys studying meant nothing.

“Then bite the Eden’s apple. I already offered the kid a job”, shrugging, “granted he makes it through medical school”, glaring at the ghost purely to make a point. Feeling very smug at Skulker seeming annoyed but smiling slightly; not that it’s easy to tell with the metal face.

Lewis chuckles, “also, I appreciate you making him regrow his legs. Now I don’t have to knock him out”.

That gets Skulker to give him an almost concerned seeming look, “you have a ghost knockout device?”, which Lewis just grins at as the ghost promptly leaves. Well, he just successfully intimidated a ghost. Like symbiotes and MRI machines. Looking out the window to the dark sky, it’s about time he checks in on his patient properly; and probably patches him up yet again. That kid needed to just have a doctor shadowing him at all times.

Danny flops his head into Valerie’s lap, tail swishing lazily in the air at random. Sam and Tucker are lobbing chunks of mystery substances at each other. Valerie pats his head, “I still can’t believe you bribed a cop and got away with it”.

Danny chuckles meanly before going slightly wide-eyed, “oh yeah! And get this, Walker’s first name was apparently Cordell. Cop’s his grandson or something”.

Tucker gets hit in the head by something purple and fuzzy, “seriously? Your luck man”. Making everyone laugh just as Maddie sticks her head in, “the next CyberStep prototype is ready, sweetie”, looking around the room, “oh! You kids are still here? You really should head home and let Danny rest”, almost glaring at Valerie, “you especially missy. Danny being... endowed... or not”;

Danny wheezes in laughter while everyone else chokes. Valerie promptly hits him, so he manoeuvres his tail to poke her in the head; she, of course, swats It away. Sam however, surprises him by grabbing It and yanking him to the floor as she goes to stand, Tucker following as they move to leave.

Sam eyeballing Valerie, “well?”. Who sighs and leans down to give Danny another pat and a kiss before getting up to leave herself.

Danny sticks his arms up at her, “lift me, am baby”. Valerie snorts and leans down lifting him up, “yes, big scary baby”. Danny laughs with a high pitched voice very intentionally, “spooky scary skeleton baby”. Valerie groans and drops him on the bed, “you’re awful, you damn fool”, shoving his head into the blankets.

Danny chuckles, “you’re the worst, you stupid fool-lover”. She just snorts while Danny stays there, with his face smushed into the bed as they actually do leave.

His mom coming over after she’s sure his friends have gone. Her sitting on the bed and patting it, giving his shoulder a little rub, “you are okay with testing the CyberSteps right? And the way the house is? It’s setup? You can get to everything fine?”, continuing as he turns his head to her, “I know we haven’t really been treating this like you actually are... disabled. We’ve been treating this like you’ll pretty much go back to normal”, sighing and looking to the ceiling, “I know with the CyberSteps you’ll be able to walk again, have legs again. But it’s... it’s not the same. And I don’t- I don’t know if you want us to teat you like you’re no different. Not give you extra help or do things for you”, looking back to him and ruffling his hair a little, she can tell he’s thinking, “I know you want the general public to treat you the same and not even know anything’s happened. But us? I guess what I’m asking sweetie, is if you like the way we treat you”, trying to lighten the mood a little, make this seem less serious, “and no, by help you out I don’t mean babying you. I know you don’t like that”.

Danny opens and closes his mouth a few times. His mom was obviously worried and was definitely always going to be bothered by his leglessness, but he wasn’t actually legless. But revealing that was more than a little unpleasant sounding. Regardless what his friends say, regrowing human(ish) flesh and bone was not the same as developing a ghostly tail. It wasn’t even in the same realm of same. Literally. Humans do not heal like he does. Not even close. And him revealing he doesn’t heal like a fucking human is absolutely going to make them question if he even is human anymore. If he’s been too changed by his Core and contamination to qualify as human. And his parents deciding the answer was ‘no. Not human’ was nightmare fuel that he simply did not want to face. That, his hybrid status, was getting pried from his cold dead hands, when it came to his folks. And besides, even if he did tell her, then she’d be worried about his weird-ass healing and humanness. Which she would probably be more bothered by than him technically being ‘disabled’. So that’s solved. Kinda. Not really. Something tells him that having legs -real ones- while human was going to be an uncommon thing; too risky to have them often. He has a distinct feeling that is making ClockWork smirk meanly at him.

(ClockWork was, in fact, watching the near future with a smirk; and drumming their fingers over their staff almost in eager anticipation)

Now the other dilemma Danny’s having is this whole ‘do you want us to treat you the same/help you/modify things for you’ question. He means, the answers were obvious to him: yes/no/no. But his mom was obviously having at least a little bit of a hard time with treating him like nothings changed. Obviously she wanted to help him. And that made sense. She was his mom, any mom would want to help their disabled kid. That meant he needed to give her a reason, make her feel good and better about him not wanting that. She needed to feel like she was helping him by not helping him. Huh, talk about an oxymoron. And funnier, doing that would make him feel helpful and his Obsession at least a little content. But the question was, how to go about doing that? Tilting his head -and knowing damn well his mom is just letting him sort through his head- he could just be honest? in a different way. He disliked being babied, them helping him when he didn’t goddamn need it, because of his ghostly pride. Because of that ghostly part of his mind. His ghostly brain. Which his mom had asked about. Had asked how his mind was different, was more ghostly. He could just... tell her? That’s pretty well what she wanted right? and it would keep her from being all weird about this. Maybe anyway. Hopefully. But also how to explain that? He wasn’t kidding that he really seriously didn’t know just how different his mind was. Where did his human pride end and his ghost pride begin? He had never liked being babied, but he definitely hated it much more since the accident. But he’s pretty sure full human Danny wouldn’t mind his folks doing things for him or putting stuff in easier reach. Heck! full human Danny would probably want nothing to do with robo-legs; especially robo-legs made by his explosion prone parents. Full human Danny would probably be fine being pushed around in a wheelchair. Halfa Danny definitely wasn’t.

Swallowing, alright brain, time to be on the ghostly side. Huh, for once he was actively wanting to be ghostly around his family, “okay uh, I think that -me being bothered with being babied so much- is a ghost brain thing. And um, you guys trying to help me unnecessarily -as in I could honestly do it myself just fine- is babying to me. Wounds my pride I guess”, shrugging. It didn’t help that he was a powerful ghost. He was a proud bastard alright? Ghostly proud for sure. Nowhere near as bad as Vlad though. That guy was, like, sixty percent pride or something.

Maddie nods, making a point to not look too curious, she can tell a bit that Danny’s more certain about this than he’s letting on. So he was clearly not comfortable yet talking about how his... Core and ectoplasm affected his mind. Meaning this was probably him testing the waters a bit, him taking a bit of a leap of faith. She could understand that, it made sense, him hide anything about himself he thought was ghostly was what he was used to. He had ghost hunters for parents after all. So she needed to not be bothered by this, just like the tail and Core. But also just like with those, she was bothered, she just had to work on that and not let it show; because upsetting him, making him feel like he still had to hide parts of himself, would bother her much more. Though to get any confirmation that his mind has changed, who he is, his personality; was harder to swallow than his physical body being a bit different. And here, he probably had a point. She thought he had been more self-sufficient, more caring about his looks, and more capable as a teen. She had chalked that up to growing up, but maybe that was his ghostly influence showing. Tilting her own head, “well ghosts are prideful things. So I guess you being more proud, in a ghostly way, would make sense. Do you... have different kinds of pride? Like, human pride and ghostly pride?”. Not ‘ghost pride’ because he’s not a ghost; no matter how close to one he’s become.

Danny rolls onto his back and stares at his ceiling a little, “I think my ghost pride trumped my human one. I’m not sure I have human pride?”, tilting his head, “or maybe my ghost stuff just abducted my human pride and modified it?”. Did he actually know the answer here? No. And it’s not like he’s gonna ask Spectra how his mind worked. How human it was. That would be asking for punishment. Would really confuse her though. Maybe. She was one ghost he didn’t really understand.

Maddie nods and ruffles his hair, “your ecto-circulatory system and Core? That would make sense”, looking up at the ceiling too, “ghosts are impressions of the living, so your ghostly set up cannibalising your human pride and leaving you with the ecto-impression of it seems plausible. Seems logical pride would be something your ectoplasm would latch on to or overpower”, she bites back adding that ghosts were obviously proud since they seemed to think they were better or above the living when they were only the leftovers of the living. Effectively scraps. But that thought makes her squint a little, there wasn’t anything for Danny’s Core to be a ‘scrap’ of... The tail was obvious, but the Core? They had thought those were likely built of leftover emotional imprints or maybe the heart? That clearly couldn’t be right since Danny still had a heart -Dan had pretty well confirmed his heart being there- and, even with his aloofness, she’s still positive he was definitely all there emotionally. So the Core was an addition, not a leftover. Meaning that maybe... they were at least partly wrong. On their basic understanding/finding, of all things. Maybe the majority of a ghost was leftovers, but some were new?

Danny interrupts her thoughts, “‘ecto-circulatory system’? Is that just, like, what you’re calling my, uh, ectoplasm? And I think it’s more likely that ghost pride, or whatever, is stronger and more focused on, or something, and so the human pride is kinda redundant? Would be wasteful to have two, I think”, chuckling, “I guess ‘cannibalising’ is one way to put it. More like taking the old and upgrading it”, then very stupidly adding, “less ‘impression’, more ‘freed from unneeded baggage”, and instantly cringing because calling living, breathing, eating, organs, etcetera, ‘baggage' was probably simultaneously worrying and offensive. Maybe she wouldn’t take it that way? Even if it was... kinda true. Why have organs and bones when you can just be energy? Why be reliant on oxygen and food when you could just... not? But at the same time, why need to absorb ectoplasm, just one thing, instead of diversifying your needs? No ectoplasm equals some pretty fucked and probably fading ghosts. No cheese or beef just equals ‘eat something else you moron’. Still though...

Maddie gives her son a slightly concerned look, did he have that ‘ghosts are better than the living’ mindset? That could.... could explain his tolerance and even seeming fondness of ghosts. But he also clearly didn’t ascribe to humans being lesser; than ghosts or him. Like how some people just found cats better than dogs, better pets than dogs; but didn’t view dogs as some lesser beings. Was this part of his ghostly influences or just the way he would view things regardless? She should ask instead of assuming, assuming has gotten her in a bad way a lot it seems. And she told herself she’d do less of that. But first, his question. His curiosities were more important than hers, especially if he might be genuinely worried about anything, “your ecto-circulatory system is just what your dad rather dubbed your Core and ectoplasm. How it works and flows together. Like blood and a heart”, shifting a bit and biting her lip, “I guess having two kinds of pride would be unnecessary. But... do you? think ghosts are better than humans? Above?”, looking at his face and making a point to come off as gentle, “swapping ‘impression’ for ‘losing baggage’ sounds less like they are our leftovers and more like we’re garbage holding back our ghosts”. When it came to power she could understand, humans simply couldn’t match ghosts when it came to raw power. But they lost so much. Or that’s what research said, what she had thought for so long. But even if they were wrong about ghosts being emotionless and unable to feel pain. And, according to Danny, about being able to reproduce. Ghosts still lost organs. A truly physical existence. They were still bound to Obsession, even if Dan’s idea of them loving their Obsessions had merit. They still existed almost endlessly. They still were trapped in a form, ‘mind’, habit, personality, that could barely change at all. That was horrible. A loss. Not freedom or shedding off baggage. And certainly not better. Maybe it was good and better for the ones that never knew life.

Danny pushes himself to sit up and chuckles awkwardly, he sure loves making his life harder huh? “uh, I wouldn’t say ‘garbage’”, he pointedly ignores her slightly relieved sigh, “better comparison would be prototype to finished product. Prototypes are smaller, weaker, less effective. But more manipulatable, easier to deal with, informative. Prototypes you can practically upgrade or modify like crazy. Finished things go obsolete”, tilting his head and looking a little far off, “‘when things reach their ultimately conclusion, their final stage, they can go no more. But the universe is a thing of endless mores. There will always be a higher goal. A harder day. A stronger fight. A more expensive cost. To stagnate is to someday die out. To cease to exist when the universe requires beyond the final evolutions limits. But life is a thing of endless evolution. Of constant change. Always taking more and more and more. Never to rest’”, nodding his head with a smile, “‘and that, young one, is why I love life’”, chuckling and looking back to his slightly startled looking mom, “I might have made a stupidly wise friend”, shrugging, “sure they also then went on about why they love death. But you get the point I think”.

Maddie blinks, alright so maybe him being more grown-up had something to do with making -what sounds to be- a very smart friend. Likely an adult. Choosing to make light of this because that was a bit heavy and her boy clearly thought highly of this friend; he remembered them word for word!, “and here I thought I’ve met all your friends”, patting his head and getting lightly scowled at in return, “though I would like to know what they think of ghosts”, sighing and looking back to the ceiling, “as for what you said, most people consider prototypes inferior. So that doesn’t really change my question”.

Danny nods a little, fair enough, “well... uh, I think ghosts are better yeah. Kinda. In ways”, shrugging, “the strength. The durability. The powers. The sorta immortality and Obsessions though, heh”, he may love helping and protecting people, and enjoy satisfying that pesky Obsession of his; but it was still annoying pushy bastard. Shaking his head, “and my friend? They’re kinda a loner”, was a bit weird calling ClockWork simply ‘friend’ but he so doesn’t want to get into that. Chuckling, “‘death -in the way it is known for ghosts- is a finality in a way that finality is not. An end unending. Eternity, or at the very least the possibility of it, on a shiny silver plater. A steady star in space. Enhancing and overwhelming everything around it. Never bending for anything. It’s beauty and strength. Chaos and destruction. Pure and raw; leaving room for nothing else. And the universe is nothing without that’”, Danny nods and adds, “pretty sure they also said ‘think of it like this: without death, life is worthless. Death is the core and essence of life. Without it life is just a bled dry husk. And that’s something I care nothing for’ on the same topic”.

Maddie can’t help blinking again, this whoever seemed like they genuinely didn’t prefer one over the other. Reminded her a little of Dan actually. She’s not sure she agrees with the idea that the living are worthless without ghosts. Or maybe Jack’s wild on-the-spot idea of needed ghosts had some serious merit. As in, world would end without them, kind of merit. Then squinting, thinking on the weird emphasis Danny put on ‘Obsessions’; it couldn’t- could he possibly? “Sweetie-”. Only to get cut off by Jack barging in, holding up the CyberSteps.

“I got tired of waiting! So I figured I’d just bring them up! Plus! It might be more convenient to test here! Since if there’s some kind of reaction then Danny can just hop right into bed!”. Maddie tilts her head and nods slightly; he had a point.

Danny looks around his room and rubs his neck, thinking of all the shit he hid fucking everywhere in here, “uh, I’d rather not have anything that, y’ know, might explode or anything, in my room while doing things that would make it maybe explode or something”. His dad actually blushes at that and deflates a little. So Danny adds on, “still cool with testing though dad. Just not here”; earning a wide smile in return.

Maddie nods and sighs slightly, standing up with a smile; storing away her question and worry for later, “might as well do that now then”, smiling almost meanly at Jack, “since someone’s over eager”. Jack just chuckles and grins.

Danny flicks around his tail, feeling how easy it would be to simply have legs yet how not draining the tail still was. Super odd but fuck it, odd is him or whatever. Floating up off his bed and flying his face right up to the legs, more than a little curious what they've changed to account for his Core in a way that actually works in any way. Looking inside the legs, “so, think you’ve fixed the signals miscommunication issue?”, deciding not to add ‘without messing anything else up’.

Jack beams and nods, father and son chatting a little as they head out and down the stairs. Maddie watching from behind and smiling to herself, glad he didn’t seem to be closing himself off or act uncomfortable after their ghost-related talk; like he often did. Probably had something to do with her effectively reintegrating that they were willing and okay to hear him out on his opinions and ghost tolerance. Or maybe from them knowing about his ghostly influence and accepting that as simply part of him. Refocusing and watching his tail flick and swish around; which only makes her smile grow a little. He truly had gotten pretty good with it; not a wobble or falter in sight. He might even be able to give some ghost a run for their money, once he was healed up of course, which Jack would absolutely cheer and brag over.

Danny turns his head towards his mom just as they get into the kitchen -the currently designated blast zone, since doing it in the lab around sensitive anti-ghost stuff really was stupid- tilting his head at her giggling to herself, “what?”, and blushing when she glances to his tail; him coiling It around a little, making her smile crinkle her eyes a little. Guess his folks were finally -thank the Ancients- genuinely getting use to the tail. Turning back to his dad, who sets down the legs and gestures at them a bit ridiculously. Making Danny laugh and shake his head with a smile, “yeah yeah, alright”.

Grabbing the waist and slipping his tail in, instantly wondering what would happen if he went all leggy while wearing the legs. Legs on top of legs. Legs inside of legs. Fucking legception. That’s for another day though, even if he grins like an idiot over the thought. Moving for the thumbprint scanner and pausing, huh, they moved the timer. Nice, way less awkward. Shrugging and attaching the neuroreceptors, “where'd the timer go? Not that I’m complaining”. Considering that thing controlled the drain, he’d rather be able to see it without pulling some inhuman body horror shit.

Maddie walks up and taps on the neuroreceptors between his shoulder blades, “it’s on your back, we think shortening the distance between your brain and Core, and the timer conductor might just do the trick. With a couple other changes of course”, shrugging a little, “even if that increases the distance between it and your tail -the most accessible of your ectoplasm- as well as the main body of the CyberSteps”.

Jack adds in with a laugh, “and just like before! It’s completely protected from bumps and it can be locked so no one can go fiddling with it on you!”, and slaps Dannys back over the strip, then blushing and realising that was probably dumb to do.

Danny tries (and fails) to look over his shoulder at it while his dad turns it to actually start up, “uh, won’t it be kinda hard for me to adjust it there”.

Both parents blink like this hadn’t occurred to them. “Oh”. While Danny glances to his chest and tries to focus on what he’s feeling. Again, the draining is near nothing, which is good though foreboding.

Maddie shakes her head, “well we could add a small chest bar so it could be on your chest”, nodding and thinking to herself a little, “would fall right over his Core then”.

Danny raises an eyebrow before grumbling, “who am I? Tony Stark?”, snorting to himself, “well I am a literal metal ass. Rockin’ robotics”. Then deciding why not try walking, didn’t seem like anything was going horribly awfully wrong.

Lewis had walked in just during Danny’s little dig toward Ironman and had promptly muttered to himself, “considering the super-suit leading a merry band of heroes. Yes. Yes you are”, which he’s pretty sure Danny missed. As he watches the kid go to lift his ‘leg’ -what happened to him regrowing his legs???- only for said leg to practically high kick the air aggressively, sweep Danny clean off his other foot, and flip him onto his back; hard. Eliciting a little ‘oof’ from Danny and making Lewis sigh. What is it with walking in on the hero/vigilante type getting hurt? Especially Danny. Was like the boy felt a moral and physical obligation to get injured at the sight of a doctor. Which actually... does seem like something Danny would get a kick out of.

Maddie and Jack quickly move to help him sit up. Lewis puts his last bag on the floor and walks over. Danny rubs his head and mumbles in ghost, “o̸҉w̧͘͏,̕͡ ͞I’͝v̕ę ̴͝w͘h̵̨a͝c̴͠k̕ed̴͠ m̷̕y ̢͠͡hea̵d ͏͠͠a͝ ̢͢͝sh̷͘i̛t ̵̕t͘o͟n͡ ̨a͝n͞d̸͝ ͞s̶͏͢om͡e͜͡ho͠w ͠t҉̵h͜a̡͜t̡ was͘ ͜͞͝w͜ay҉ ̛mo̕͠r̴͠e͏̸ ͏̡p̡̨ai̴͘nf͟ưl̡͝͡”, and shakes his head. Making his folks blink in surprise and squint at him slightly, many times they’ve thought they heard him muttering in a strange language; never heard it so clearly before though.

Jack chuckles and gives a lopsided awkward smile, “I guess you knowing ghost speak makes sense, son”. Catching Danny off guard, “e͘͜͞h̴̵҉¿”. Realising his fuck up, he goes to stand up only for the legs to overreact again and basically toss him -back first, because of course it does- into the table.

Lewis stands up and shakes his head, hands on his hips, “well I’m glad you’re up and walking, but maybe you should turn that down a little. Before you put a foot through the ceiling or hurt yourself further”. Danny just stands there rubbing his neck awkwardly before glancing cautiously at the legs. Though really? Lewis is damn impressed these things are actually working at all. And that Danny’s braces don’t look destroyed, but that’s another matter.

Jack chuckles, checks over the timer/conductor, and scratches his head, “they’re still on the lowest setting actually”. Maddie sighs, shakes her head, and repositions the table back where it belongs.

Her sitting down and eyeballing the CyberSteps, “I’m really not sure what else we can try. Any lower and it’s not gonna pick up and convert the signals successfully”.

Jack snatches up the little tray of peanut fudge brittle Maddie made earlier and puts it on the table. One’s missing, so he’s guessing Jazz took one before she turned in for the night. Least Dan joins them at the table. Danny looks to attempt to but winds up on the floor again. At least he lands on his butt though! Or the CyberSteps butt really. Oh whatever, all’s the same.

Danny just sits there, ‘legs’ sticking out straight, and vainly attempts to reach over his shoulder to flick the dial. His own normal flexibility surprising him a little at actually being able to reach the thing and turn it. But in typical fashion he turns it the wrong way, taking more from him and watching the legs start smoking concerningly; promptly turning the dial the other way. Everyone watching the smoke while Danny chuckles slightly, “heh”.

Danny decides ‘fuck it, pretty sure these are already busted’ and changes his tail to legs. Promptly reminding himself of the fact that the hooks for his tail are actual hooks via him being actively stabbed. Alright, he really should have seen that coming. Changing back to his tail to hopefully not leak blood everywhere and ecto-burning away any blood that might (definitely) have gotten on the hooks. Using said hooks to use his tail to stand up and get out of the (still smoking)CyberSteps.

Lewis watches him float to sit and grab up some of the brittle, pretty sure there’s some specks of blood on the ‘bandaging’. Which come on really? How does something made entirely of ectoplasm bleed human blood? How? Danny’s body made so little sense. Eddie's made more sense. And Vee was a liquid.

Maddie pats Danny's shoulder, “you alright sweetie?”. Danny of course giving a solid ‘yep’. Which Lewis is calling bullshit on, “I’ll be the judge of that”, earning an eye roll.

Jack nods and rubs his neck, “guess you’d like to check him over right off the bat huh?”, then perking up a bit, “then me and Mads can take the CyberSteps down! Give them a little check over of their own!”.

Making Danny snort, “really splitting the work there. A bio mechanic and tech mechanic. Real two for one. How suiting. Built for me”. Lewis just shoos the pair towards the lab door, Jack scooping up the ‘legs’ and bounding over; Maddie right behind after ruffling Danny’s hair.

Danny mumbles at the table as the lab door closes, “what is with ruffling my hair today?��. Then scowling at Lewis for attempting to ruffle his hair with a small smirk, Danny going intangible to block him.

Lewis rounds on Danny, pointing at his tail, “now, why is that bloody? How’s your back and arm? Can you get concussions? And I thought you said you had legs again?”.

“Twenty-one questions much? Everything’s fine, doc. I discovered the CyberSteps qualify as an iron maiden for legs. If I can get concussions I never have I think. And I’m not legless, I’m leg optional”, changing to legs and crossing them for emphasis and to effectively show off his (still intact)fashion disaster. Feeling slightly cold chair against his bare legs, and possibly the bottoms of his ass cheeks; which he’s studiously ignoring, because Ancients damnit how do girls wear this shit and not feel awkward as Hell.

Lewis blinks, “I’m pretty sure this qualifies as a crime for me to see”, well, no wonder he asked for pants. No guy should be in anything like this against his will; least Danny was rolling with it.

“Fuck the law. Also, I might have encouraged Vee to eat a cop... and a priest”.

Lewis shakes his head and gets up, “again, you’re a bad influence”. Watching Danny as he gets up and walks around his chair, going to head up the stairs. Whelp, guess he can walk. And has the most insane healing factor imaginable. Eddie technically didn’t have any special healing, Vee can just put Eddie back together. Like a jigsaw puzzle that can regrow any lost pieces to boot.

Lewis shakes his head as he closes Danny’s bedroom door, “I am once again in awe of your body”, Danny gives him a really weird look at that and awkwardly slaps his ass. Lewis scowls at him, “no. Eddie can do that, not you”, gesturing for the boy to sit down so he can make sure everything’s as it should be for a healthy person.

Danny raises an eyebrow, giving his arm over, “Eddie slaps his ass at you?”, muttering to the side, “I think Tuck is winning a bet”.

Lewis studiously ignores that, he had more than a few people question if his friendship with Eddie was really ‘just friends’. Sure, he and Anne had talked about that, opening things up. But they were pretty agreed on that being a bad idea. At least currently anyway. Pulling at bandaging, “back to tail, I somehow think that’ll be easier to wrap and less wasteful”, both of them shaking their heads at the flesh-coloured tail. Lewis quirks an eyebrow at his waist coming to a clean smooth flat end before transitioning to the tail. Eh, least he was healed and wrap-able; positives Lewis, positives.

Checking over the braces quickly, only having to change out a cracked back brace surprisingly. And very closely checking Danny’s job of reattaching his arm, the kid was seriously too good at stitching; and bone alignment apparently. Leaning back and nodding at his own work, pointless as it technically was, “guess I don’t have to gas you now”.

Danny grimaces, he’s not going to underestimate Lewis’s seriousness about healing again, “you were seriously going to do that, huh?”. Lewis just smirks at him as Danny floats up off the bed.

Lewis speaks up before Danny turns his doorknob, “speaking of Eddie, what is up with everyone thinking you’re old?”. Danny’s grin is downright malicious, “what? Did you not believe me when I pointed out time travel is a dear friend of mine”, finger-gunning at the doc, “I do have basically the god of time in my corner after all. And a time slash dimension-hopping map”.

Lewis nods acceptingly, “I’m surprised time jumping is even legal. Though ClockWork seems like the type that might not care”.

Danny chuckles, “law means nothing to them. Time loves crime. We’re like twins”, and grins meanly before opening the door and going to head back to the kitchen; Lewis following. Maybe see what ideas his folks have now, inspire them a little; they seemed kinda stuck. Which at this point was fair. For every thing that worked, something else didn’t.

The two enter to the two parents glaring at the table and off-handledly munching on brittle. Danny blinks, looks to Lewis, shrugs, and turns back to his folks. Floating over to the table, “drawing blanks?”. Jack nods and hums; taking another bite. Danny moving to sit, cooking his tail around the seat.

Maddie looks at Danny and squints, “it’s like the timer conductor simply can’t work in proper alignment with itself and you”.

Lewis tilts his head, “well couldn’t you just separate the timer function and conductor function? Sacrifice a little space-saving in the name of functionality?”. This thing working at all is a miracle alone. It also being stylish, and realistic, and compact, and durable, and practically self-sufficient; seems straight-up impossible. “Like a friend likes to say ‘ain’t nothing wrong with the cheap n’ easy option’”, shrugging, “sure, he’s usually talking about food and booze, but I think the mindset applies”.

Jack shakes his head absently, mumbling into his food, “only the best for Danny-boy”. Maddie pats his arm comfortingly. Lewis points at him, “working at all might be the best though”. Jack just grumbles incoherently at that.

Danny shrugs awkwardly, “I’m fine either way. An extra dial is nothing really”. He is not going to school or walking around town without legs, Ancients Damnit!

Maddie sighs and nods, “we’ll see, we’d rather not of course, but we’ll see.  I’m not entirely convinced that would work anyway. Might make it even worse. Since the two need to communicate so closely and heavily. Control how much is taken, how, and stored. Control how much is released and where to at a time”.

Jack nods, joining the conversation more in genuine, “I think the timer isn’t working really. It’s just not strong enough. The conductor can’t take little enough, even with storing excess, for the timer to handle; without taking too little to even activate the conductor properly”.

Maddie nods and gives Danny a soft look, “your ecto’s just too strong. The conductor needs to be strong enough to keep up and handle you, but the timer doesn’t seem able to keep up with that. We’re pretty sure the timer’s maxed out”. Danny cringes and rubs his neck, looking around awkwardly. A more power-hungry ghost would be tickled green to hear that.

Jack nods, “feasibly, we could increase storage space but that would botch the design clear to the Zone. Definitely wouldn’t be able to match your physique. Noticeably so”, and glancing at him. Knowing full well Danny wouldn’t be happy with that.

Danny instantly grimacing, “yeah no. I’ll pass on that option”. Earning a round of nods.

Lewis leans back and taps his chin, “I’m assuming by ‘too strong’ you mean ecto-level right? And could you just... make a different kind of timer? Or a conductor that could compress his energy on top of storing it?”. Hey, sometimes an outside perspective helped.

Maddie raises an eyebrow at Dan, “oh? Danny explained ecto-levels, I take it?”, shaking her head, “this timer is our newest model. I’m not sure we can currently make something stronger. And everything we’ve got for compression right now are capture devices or would likely hurt anything that could actually feel pain”, and winces slightly from Danny’s sudden sharp glare; promptly getting a matching one from Dan. Right, she was supposed to be rethinking that. And she was, honest. It’s just, they had been so sure. Fiddling with her glove a little, “habit sweetie”. Danny rolls his eyes, like he always did when they would ignore or disregard his opinions; which made her cringe. She probably just took at least a small step back with him. Lewis just continues with the glare.

Jack nods, “we haven’t really had a chance to look into reviewing things, son”, chuckling slightly, “give us some wiggle room, would ya?”. Danny rolls his eyes again but this time he has a slight smile.

Danny shrugs, back brace scraping almost loudly against the back of the chair as he leans back, “well I definitely don’t want anything that hurts ghosts being used on me. And honestly? There was never any reason to think ghosts don’t feel pain”. Lewis just nods, this wasn’t really his fight here; he’ll interject if he thinks he needs to though.

Maddie gestures with her hands, “but they don’t have nervous systems, it doesn’t make any sense. There’s no brain to measure or process that stuff”.

Jack nods a furrows his brows, “same reason we didn’t believe they had emotions. Or the ability to love, or really care about anything other than their Obsession and chaos”. Even Lewis has to admit, he’s got no clue how something without a brain experiences things that require brainwaves and nerves to experience. Ghosts or symbiotes. Though he’s got a few ideas regarding Vee.

Danny blinks, in his opinion it was obvious ghost could feel; both emotions and pain. Literally just look at them and it was obvious. But yeah, he guesses from a purely slightly close-minded human-centric scientific eye it would seem illogical or impossible. And he’s never exactly questioned the ‘how’ of ghosts feeling anything. His ghostly self included. Maybe if he could find an answer to that then his folks might really truly genuinely change their tune on ghosts; instead of just pondering it. So how did he feel things a ghost? Okay stupid question, he felt through his ectoplasm of course. But how? Everything had a slight tingle in ghost form, he had figured he was just feeling his own ecto; but maybe that wasn’t the case. Kinda like how if you pressed your finger down on something and really focused or pressed you could feel your pulse. And Cores were often described -even by him- as like a brain and they effectively were ghost hearts. Maybe that was even more literal. His Core would pulse or vibrate harder if it was doing lots of work, but it would also vibrate pretty noticeably when he was happy; he got teased about ‘purring’ over that. And his Core did get colder and even felt harder when he was pissed off. Kinda wet when he was sad. Huh, he probably should have noticed the emotional connection a long ass time ago; though not really feeling his Core consciously was a good excuse for not, background noise after all. Emotions were effectively felt through the Core. And any pain he experienced did seem to be slightly worse around his chest. So It was probably processing, or whatever, that pain. Sure people didn’t feel head pain every time they stabbed their finger with a knife, but humans were less in-tune with their brains than ghosts were with their Cores. Humans can’t ‘feel’ their brains by just focusing after all. Same went for blood verses ectoplasm though. If anything, ghosts felt more than the living.

Danny blinks, staring down at the table before looking back to his folks; who are giving him curious looks. Well damn, ghosts felt everything with their Cores. He officially gets why they were all so damn protective of them; beyond just instinctively feeling protective. Part of why they were sacred. This also explained his parents' confusion too. They admitted to knowing near nothing about Cores, so they wouldn’t know everything Cores did.

Danny sits up straight and puts a hand over his chest brace, over where his Core was, “it’s the Core. How ghosts feel things. They feel it with their Core”, continuing at his parents eyebrows raising and basically matching Lewis’s curiosity; though he can tell his dad’s restraining himself, which Danny appreciates. “Er, not sure if it’s the same for me -doubt it- but It does react to emotion and general pain. Uh, sometimes before I mentally do”, shrugging awkwardly and trying to make the air feel less crushing, “Sam and Tuck like to poke fun at my, um, purring when I’m happy or really content. Heh”, and glancing around.

Lewis smirks meanly, Danny moving his glancing to him and scowling. It was just like whenever anyone -other than Eddie- called Vee’s little snake head thing ‘cute’; which it was cute. They do that cat bleb thing too, so it was their own fault they were cute. Both Venom and Danny being cat-like wasn’t a similarity he ever expected to find.

Jack kinda wants to ask, ask everything actually, but specifically if Danny could show it or let them feel it? his Core feeling things. But he has a feeling his boy wouldn’t appreciate basically show-ponying. And experiencing an emotion, even faked, at the drop of a hat was kinda hard. Plus! He believes his boy! So does he really need to ask? His wife speaks up before he does, which is so uncommon that Danny is probably weirded out by that. Maddie tilts her head a little, “‘before you mentally do’ so your... Core is actually more emotionally sensitive?”, and squints at the air.

Maddie’s not really sure what to do with that information. She could write it off as a side-effect of forming a Core while still having a brain, nervous system, etcetera. But... realistically it made more sense to think that his Core was very similar to practically the same as a regular Core; an ice Core type specifically. And trying to claim his Core could experience emotions and pain but a regular one couldn’t was a serious fundamental difference. Sure she had hoped his ghost would keep the ability to feel emotions when It fully formed, but for his ghost’s Core to already experience emotions and in a completely different way than humans did... It wouldn’t make any sense if the Core hadn’t come in with Its own emotional setup. Especially if It picked up on emotions first. And there was the whole complication of pain, because her job rather required ‘hurting’ ghosts; but ghosts ‘hurt’ each other so she’s not too bothered by that. But thinking on the ice Core thing, maybe she could jump off from that to try and place how maybe normal his was? Ugh, she seriously wishes they knew more about Cores. “Do you maybe feel things icily?”.

Danny gives her a slightly confused look, he's pretty sure that question wasn’t worded very well. “Like if my Core gets icy with emotions?”, he actually needs the clarification here. At her nod he continues, “uh, It’s always cold. But uh, more cold rock when I’m mad and ice water when sad? I’m not really sure how to put it”, rubbing his neck, “I know I drop room temperatures when I’m mad”, tilting his head, “Sam and Tuck say I literally suck the heat out of them if I’m sad or really bummed or whatever”, shrugging, “has to be, like, strong emotion for others to really notice. I think?”; he’s pretty sure people would say something if he chilled rooms every time he was mildly frustrated. Everyone would have to wear sweaters during tests.

Lewis blinks, maybe it was better his Core was all exhausted at the hospital. But hey, it was a step up from eating someones organs in response to annoyance. Or drinking yourself under the table and then the floor, having questionable gang bangs, and getting a tattoo of a horse eating pickles.

Maddie and Jack exchange a Look. Alright, so his Core absolutely could and did process emotions and in Its own way. They absolutely couldn’t deny that ghosts feeling -and thus caring, experience pain, having morals- was not only plausible but likely. And Danny was right, if ghosts had something they could feel with then there really wasn’t a reason to assume they couldn’t feel. Looking back and nodding at Danny. Jack sticking out his arms, “I guess ice Core ghosts are emotionally cold literally”. And grinning at making Danny snort and laugh.

Danny nods at his dad with an amused smile, putting his chin in a palm/hand brace, elbow on the table. Looking to his mom as she speaks up, “I guess Cores are a lot more than a vital energy source. And if this isn’t just a you thing, a modification of your Core due to being human still, then ghosts wouldn’t be emotionless. Wouldn’t be pure chaos and evil”, sighing and leaning back, “so I guess ghosts really can’t be purely evil. But I think we really need to actually encounter a so-called ‘good’ ghost, to see just what kind of good that is”.

Danny can’t resist a wide grin effectively splitting across his face. That grin becoming pinched and very forced, while his folks jump in their seats a little as a portal just opens up, in the middle of the kitchen.

Lewis’s eyebrows get lost in his hairline successfully and he’s wondering just how often do ghosts just pop up when Danny was involved in literally anything. He’s known Eddie for a year and he’s only dropped a criminal on him once, an alien once sorta twice but he never really had anything to do with Riot, and corpses (or on their way to being a corpse) once; Eddie was much better about giving ‘I’m eating out’ heads up now. Danny he’s known less than a month and there’s been what? Three ghosts dropped on him? The metal one, Skulker, twice. The biker, Johnny right? And that time he almost walked in on the ClockWork ghost, that didn’t quite count as an encounter though.

Lewis physically wheezes at the timing of this ghost as they stick their blue hood-covered head through the portal. While Danny feels the need to forcibly restrain himself from smacking ClockWork over the head, as they float fully through the portal in their child form.

Jack and Maddie blink, if they were a little less tired then they would have immediately whipped out pistols from their suits and held the spook at gunpoint; though holding back on firing until this strange ghost seemed hostile, if for anything to appease their (definitely overly ghost friendly)son and try out his ‘ghosts aren’t evil’ mindset.

Jack and Maddie’s sleep deprivation-induced hesitance gives the ghost the chance to smirk mischievously and speak, “you called?”.

Danny blinks and gapes like a fish, clacking his jaw shut to avoid yelling ‘what the fuck ClockWork?!?!?’ because seriously. What the fuck are they thinking? What are they doing? Has his guardian lost their damn mind? Has all their sense of reason and common sense utterly timed out? What’s their malfunction? Does their clock Core need Its batteries changed? The hands tightened? The clock face or case polished? The pendulum realigned? Danny tears his eyes off them and looks to his parents, opening his mouth back up, “uhhhhhhh”.

Lewis sighs into a hand, “and you are?”. Jack and Maddie glance at him quickly with looks of utter disbelief; was the man just utterly unflappable?

Danny just loses it at that, ‘cause take a fucking context clue mr. smart doctor man, “do you not see the clocks everywhere? Whom the fuck DO YOU THINK?!?”.

Lewis levels him with an unimpressed look, “I’m being nice”. This was probably ClockWork, but he wasn’t one for assumptions.

Jazz walks downstairs rubbing her eyes and yawning, “it’s five in the morning? Why are you-”, yawning, “-yelling? Why are you up?”. Then drops her hand, stops walking, and stares.

ClockWork grins, “hello Jasmine”.

“You... know my name?”.

Danny thumps his head on the table, “they know everything”, confirming who this was to her and Lewis really, while Danny bangs his head on the table repeatedly.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #CrossOver #venom #fan fic #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #dan lewis #eddie brock #sam manson #tucker foley #valerie gray #legless on maim #skulker #ember #clockwork #major character injury #limb removal #reveal #amputation #mentions of murder and cannibalism #ectobiology #ghost prince danny #character growth #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #my writing #injury recovery #eddie is having a... time

[the-silentium]

#17 & #18 🙈

17. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

18. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader / Venom x Reader

Warning: Angst, fluff, swearing

Words: 3025 words

A/N: First off, a big thank you to the anon who gave me my first prompts ♡. I literally wrote this at 3 a.m. and I thought it would be a good idea to mix someone new that lives in the city! Please, give me comebacks!

Gif is not mine, credits to the owner.

A light breeze made you tighten your grip on your jacket. Finally, your favorite time of the year showed its nose and replaced the excruciating weather with a more tolerable one. The new bright colors decorating the trees and the sidewalk gave a new life to the dull streets of San Francisco. The pumpkin spice smell lingering in every café in town, the kids smiling in the perspective of the sweet holiday coming soon and the monsters showing themselves after a year of hiding.

The darkness surrounding you put you at ease while the cold air sharpened your senses. You perceived every movement on the street below and all the sounds carried by the wind invaded your ears.

From your position on the roof of a 15 story building, you had a perfect view of the mugging of a young lady by a guy twice your size. You watched the scene, your legs swinging over the void, a smile creeping its way on your lips. A young raccoon made its way onto the edge and waddled to your side. At that moment, the lady let go of her purse, probably choosing her life over a few bucks and some pads. She lost her balance and fell onto the sidewalk. Her cries reached your ears just when you reached for the little thief and cradled him into your arms.

You couldn’t stop yourself but started to coo at the little furry ball. A few gunshots, a very piercing scream and some wet noises characterizing a beheading later, you were now tickling the little mammal. His squeaking melted your heart and made you once again question your decision of moving into town. You missed the countryside, but you were very not welcome there.

Suddenly, the young raccoon tensed, all senses in alert. A shock on the side of the building accelerated his heartbeat and a wide toothy grin scared the shit out of him. In a flash, he had reached the other side of the roof and found shelter in the gutter.

Sighing, you turned your attention on the alien taking a seat next to you. You had met him a few months ago during one of your nights out. You were stealing some antibiotics from a drug store and at your exit, he intercepted you. He gave you the fear of your life, threatened your organs and licked every inch of your face. In your panic, you had used what you had sworn to never use again. Your mind called to anything within your range and soon enough, 4 stray dogs ran to your rescue and attacked the black monster. You had dropped the meds and ran off. Surely, you could try again and right now, those few pills weren’t worth it.

Of course, he caught up to you. A black mass scotched you to a wall and before you appeared a very good looking guy. His right arm was engulfed in the black mass and the left one shoved the pill container onto your face. He screamed at you, accusing you of being a junkie, insulting you for stealing drugs that could A. kill you and B. help someone else and lost his temper because you weren’t responding.

You were there, watching him blankly like everything he said was stupid.

“Now that your little tantrum is done, can I talk?”

Your tone shut him up immediately. Clearly, he had overlooked something. You explained how these pills weren’t drugs, but antibiotics. How you needed them for your little brother who had pneumonia. You were his only living family and you couldn’t afford the meds. After some time, Eddie let you go. The black mass dissolved and he gave you back the meds.

“Don’t do it often or you’ll have trouble.” He had told you before you ran off and never looked back.

“Still looking for trouble?” Eddie’s voice put a smile on your face. For quite some time, the mere thought of him managed to make you happy.

“You know me.” You turned your head to face him. “I’m always looking for trouble.” You continued with a wink.

Eddie’s laugh broke the silence of the night. You were grateful for the cold breeze that hit you square in the face and hide the blush that colored your cheeks. You shuddered from the sudden cold that infiltrated your clothes. Bringing your legs up, you wrapped your arms around them in an attempt to keep yourself a bit warm. The streets were empty again. The lady must have run off, a body was lying in a dark alley and no one else wanted to face the cold night. In this neighborhood at least.

A warm spot on your arm caught your attention. You could do nothing but watch as your limb disappeared under some liquid-ish darkness. It was the second time that Venom touched you, the first time being when he threatened you to eat your heart, lungs and some other vital organs. That first time, you weren’t paying attention to the warmth radiating from him but now, all you could think of was how wonderful it would be to sleep enveloped in this black mess.

At this thought, you frowned. You clearly weren’t normal. Eddie misunderstood your reaction and distanced himself from you, pulling the symbiote with him. He scratched his neck and kicked the ground to dissipate his embarrassment.

“I erm- I have to gather some information on a doctor. Wanna tag along? I reassure you, it’s far from legal.” He smirks.

At the mention of something illegal, you scoff.

“Only if you are there to keep me out of trouble.” You turned to him, hiding your smile in your shoulder.

“We’ll always have your back darling.” He smiled with his hand extended for you to take.

Scoffing, you wrapped your fingers around his hand and before you knew, you were in the air, flying toward your target in the arms of an alien.

*****************

It took 9 minutes and 43 seconds for trouble to find you. You were currently crouched in a corner of a lab, trying to not touch anything and more importantly, not receive anything on you. Because you see, after 9 minutes and 43 seconds of Venom searching through files and document about someone named Henry Pym, a size-shifting man appeared out of no-fucking-where and started to piss off the black alien.

You didn’t know much about Pym Technologies. Scratch that. You knew nothing about them, but your instincts told you that a lab like this must contain stuff that you shouldn’t touch. Basics really. If it glows in the dark? Don’t touch. It’s red? Clearly a no-no. Don’t even think about the big kind of portal toward Star Wars Land.

Shattering glass caught your attention. Venom just threw the red costumed man through a window to what you think is a command room. Venom’s milky eyes met yours and he joined you in a heartbeat. He checked you over for a second before half his face morphed back to Eddie.

“Play the hostage.” He simply said, causing a frown to deform your features.

“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had.” Seriously. Other than guards, there was no one in this building, so why a civilian like you would be in there? Clearly, Eddie hadn’t thought this through. The guy would be a bit hard to trick, but you hoped you could be convincing. “Of course, I’m in.”

Venom was back in his entirety, grabbing you harshly by the throat with a clawed hand and lifting you to show the other guy. Damn, at this rate, you wouldn’t have to fake anything. The pain, the missing oxygen, they were all real. Even the thrashing around. Your eyes shot daggers at him and he must have gotten the message because his hold on your throat eased a bit.

You whimpered and grabbed Venom’s hand. You tried to get free from his loose grip, not to avail. Fortunately for you, your opponent wasn’t known for his deep thinking.

“Let her down.” His voice was ragged and didn’t impress you much. Now imagine Venom.

The alien laughed and put a claw from his other hand across your stomach. He made a slow movement on the side like he would open you vertically.

“Her organs would be too delicious to waste.” Well, thank you? For the second time in your life, the biggest tongue in the universe licked its way across your face. This time though, it seems like there was more pressure on your lips than anywhere else. Maybe you were imagining things… It could have been accidental. His eyes shifted from you to his opponent, two slits scrutinizing the hero for any weakness.

“But maybe I could eat you first.” He dropped you without warning, causing you to fall onto scattered papers and lose your balance. You fell onto your wrist, screaming from deep within yourself when a net crunch resonated through your ears. Pain flooded through you in waves while tears invaded your eyes and stained your cheeks.

Then, the fight continued. You cowered away from all the action, choosing to nurse your sprained wrist instead. You could barely touch it and the swelling process already started. At this moment, you made yourself a promise. Never again will you follow Eddie’s stupid plans.

Now, desks were destroyed, more papers scattered the ground, some odd liquid was dripping on the ground and ants were crawling up your arm. Great. Just great. You didn’t fear ants, but insects definitely weren’t in your heart.

You tried to rub them off, but they were really persistent. They would climb on your finger and avoid being crushed. You didn’t notice the lack of fighting noise, but the giant flying ant that landed on your nose, this one you didn’t miss. Screaming, you tried to hit it off, but a hand caught your good wrist just before you did. In a millisecond, the guy had stuck something onto your chest and suddenly, the room became bigger. Like, you were a tiny lego in a motherfucking big room.

You wanted to scream, but at the same time, all you could think of was oh my god, that’s fucking awesome! But when you saw the big ants and the even bigger flying ant, your reflex was to finally let your vocal cords express themselves.

You couldn’t have the satisfaction to scream for long though, because two hands took hold of your cheeks with care and it shut you up instantly. The guy in front of you was cute. He had lifted his mask, showing all the concern written on his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.” With a smile, he presented you a hand to shake. “Hi, I’m Scott Lang. E-eh, I mean, Ant-Man.”

You chuckled and shook his hand, giving your name. The gentle squeeze he gave your hand made your heart skip a beat. It has been a while since a guy tried to flirt with you and you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. True, he wasn’t the one who you wanted the attention from, but it felt good nonetheless.

A guttural roar got you both out of your little moment. Ant-Man grabbed your waist, guiding you toward the flying ant and lifted you on its back, positioning himself in front of you. Your arms instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist and locked there. Saying you were stiff was an understatement. If you were to receive a hit somewhere, you would break in half.

To distract yourself, you tried to focus on Venom, who was currently rampaging the room. You didn’t know if it was because you had disappeared from his view or because he had lost his fight -for now- but he really looked furious. Poor Scott Lang.

If you once thought that the symbiote was tall, it was nothing compared to how he was right then. He was a giant terrifying murderous being that was waiting for the second that your companion returned back to normal.

After a moment, you lose your sight on the symbiote. The ant had entered what looked like some air conduct. Your arms tightened a bit when the complete darkness of the conduct started to weight on you. Where were you going? Will you be stuck as a tiny version of yourself? Will there be an enormous rat living in these conducts that will attack you and kill you like in the movies? Your breathing accelerated at the same time your head found support on Scott’s back in an attempt to find comfort in his presence. A small pressure on your tight and some calm reassurances from Ant-Man later, the cold air of an October night hit you like a ton of brick. You started shivering but soon you hit the ground and Scott helped you down.

“Are you okay?” You simply nod. After your little panic moment in the conduct, you didn’t trust your voice. For sure, it would be broken and weak.

“Okay. I’ll get us back to normal and you’ll run as far from here as you can. You think you can do that?” Again, you nod.

A wave of nausea hits you when you grow back up. You seriously need to puke but hands are hurriedly pushing you away. You don’t understand his haste until a loud crash near you both made you jump. Never before have you seen Venom so pissed.

“You’ll pay for taking something of ours.” He growled.

*****************

After kicking Ant Man’s ass, Venom took you home. Not your home, but Eddie’s. You had had to bargain Scott’s life for a day at theirs. You saw glitter on his face when he removed his mask, so you deduced that he had a family to go back to. Plus, he has been sweet and caring with you all along. You did owe him that. Even if he did start all the trouble.

When you finally made it to Eddie’s, he quickly got you a bag of ice for your wrist and proposed you a shower, which you gladly accepted. He let you borrow some clothes and started acting really weird.

First, he would stare at you on your way out of the bathroom. You weren’t naked, nor were you in a simple towel. You had clothes on, for god’s sake. Then, it was like he went brain dead because you took his hoodie to keep yourself warm. His apartment was as cold as the room where you get cold beer at the store. That room was a pain for everyone, right? How in the world could he live in this cold?

“Do you happen to know what heating is? This place is freezing.” Suddenly you were happy that you accepted only a day. You liked a fresh environment, not the north pole.

The lack of answer made you turn toward the brunette, who was blinking at you, mouth slowly opening. You started to move your feet up and down repeatedly against your legs to try to keep them warm, but the lack of socks didn’t help. Noticing your problem, Eddie seemed to suddenly revive.

He walked to you, took you in his arms bridal style and carried you to bed. You blushed but tried to hide it by hiding under the covers.

“Eddie?” He shook his head.

“It wasn’t me.” He got under the covers too, his face telling that this wasn’t him once again. His arms pulled you to him and kept a firm grip.

As much as the movement surprised you, you couldn’t stop from melting in his arms. One, because of the heat emanating from his body, two, because you had low-key fell for this guy a while ago and three, a black goo engulfed every inch of your body, minus your head.

You tried to move an arm just to test the black mass, but just as you thought, you were stuck.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” Eddie trailed off, avoiding your eyes. You giggled, catching his attention and his gaze.

“Can I ask you something?” You placed your cheek on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

“Anything.”

“Why was Venom so pissed?” You felt a change in his heartbeat. It quickened and caught your interest.

“He wasn’t pissed, Y/N.” He made eye contact with you before continuing. “We were scared.”

You laughed causing Eddie to frown.

“You guys were scared of this guy?” You closed your eyes, trying to remember Ant-Man and really, even to you he wasn’t scary. If you had met him in another scenario, surely he would have become your friend in no time.

A hand moved and took hold of your chin, tilting it up. Eddie’s handsome features were deformed by a frown and worry.

“We weren’t scared of him. You really don’t see it? We were scared we had lost you.” His eyes confirmed his words. They were truly scared for you. “We have- kind of- grown attached to you.” Again, his gaze focused somewhere else.

It was just now that everything made sense. Your current position in his bed, the fear in Venom when you disappeared from his view, the warm blanket on the roof and the-

“So I wasn’t imagining it when Venom licked my face and put more pressure on my lips!” At that, Eddie turned bright red and his eyes widened.  

You laughed wholeheartedly and tried to lean in to kiss those perfect lips of his but you couldn’t move an inch thanks to your symbiotic restrains. Groaning from frustration, you turned your head so that your mouth was below Eddie’s armpit. You murmured some promises to Venom and his grip loosened on you. You were still recovered but your movements weren’t restrained.

You surprised Eddie by moving your legs so that you were now straddling him and crashed your lips on his. His stunned state lasted a second. He answered your kiss with as much fervor and passion and soon enough, you were flipped on your back, marking the beginning of the most exhausting night of your life.

Tag List: @slither-in-a-half @a-frozen-bag-of-corn​ @noshi-chan

#venom #venom x reader #eddie brock x reader #scott lang #ant man x reader #crosover #stealing #superpower

[fingerguneds]

Stozier + going to the movies

im like one hundred percent sure this is not what you wanted and it turns out i dont know what a drabble is so it’s 4.4k long but um..yeah hope you like it 

Richie is tired. Okay, “tired” is actually a litotes — he’s fucking exhausted. Two weeks of pre-holiday classes — two weeks of deadlines, exams and final test, two weeks of nervous breakdowns and panic attacks for all students, and for him, probably the biggest procrastinator in their year, it was a hell ride. Sugar-high, coffee-flavoured satanic ritual.

But in the end, he finished up good, of course he did, because not only he’s a phenomenal fuckup of a person with a pathological time-management crisis, he’s also a smart fucking guy. And now, after his last French exam, it’s only fair that he goes home and tries to recover from his two weeks long sleep deficit, but…no.

The problem is, he promised Bill to accompany him to the new Star Wars film premiere, they got the tickets days ago, and even though Richie feels like throwing up and lying in his puke for a month and crying helplessly about of it, he promised. And it’s not just someone, it’s Bill, his best friend, and the newest part of Star Wars! And maybe, if three Red Bulls and two strawberry-flavoured Fantas didn’t make his heart stop, another large-sized slushie won’t either. His heart’s a strong one, it’s been to hell and back and he can show you vouchers — his student’s record book, thank you very much.

“You’re gonna have diabetes,” Eddie, Bill’s boyfriend, intones, when Richie arrives to their apartment to pick up Bill with a venti gingerbread latte in his right hand. “Feed him something or come up with a good eulogy,” he tells Bill, standing on tiptoe to leave a quick peck on his cheek.

“But your mom told me I shouldn’t ever force myself to eat—” Richie tries, but Bill pushes him out of the apartment with a sigh and closes the door, leaving Eddie’s pink-cheeked and ready-to-fight face behind it.

“Sure you’re not hungry?”

“It’s always like that when you miss a night of your beauty sleep,” Richie grimaces as they get into the elevator. “But we still can grab something to go.”

“McDonalds?”

Richie chuckles. As kids, they always went to McDonalds before films, hiding burgers and fries in their little hats in winter or bringing a special backpack “for illegal purposes only” in summer so the cinema boys wouldn’t kick them out, or worse — make them throw everything away. Now, no one cares whether you bring your own snacks or not, and they actually finish their food while driving, but there’s still a lingering touch of nostalgia to the whole process.

They’re barely on time, because Richie insisted on buying a goddamn slushie, although the line was fucking enormous, and yet they take their seats exactly one minute before upcoming film trailers begin. They’re both excited as hell, the slushie tastes amazing after the first proper meal he’s had since yesterday’s evening (yes, fries, nuggets and a Big Mac is a meal, unlike two Kit Kats and a bag of Doritos), and yet…nothing goes as planned.

After fifteen minutes of the film, Richie starts to zone the fuck out. The food is still warm in his belly, his winter scarf he didn’t pull off is soft and comfortable under his crooked neck, his eyelids feel like the only thing heavier than them is his head. He tries, he really does, he clears his glasses twice, he finishes his slushie with the largest gulps to wake up, he bites the insides of his cheeks, but it’s all pointless.

Thirty minutes into the film, and Richie’s gone.

***

“Richie! Richie, wuw-wake up! Oh my guh-god, I’m so suh-sorry, he—Richie!“

Bill sounds nervous. His childhood stutter comes back when he is. There’s a tug at Richie’s hand he barely registers.

“It’s okay,” someone chuckles curtly right above Richie’s ear. “At least his hair is clean.”

Um, rude.

Well, maybe in a different situation, Richie wouldn’t have thought that it’s rude. Like, it’s always nice when people have clean hair. Yes.

But.

He’s diabolically tired. His nerves are nothing but a strained, stiff line that is in an alarming danger to snap and slap you in the face, his mind is dangerously aggressive, meeting every single thing with feverish hostility, and Richie doesn’t even wonder if it’s him the voice is talking about. Even if it’s not, it’s still rude. He tries to remember when he last washed his hair — this morning, to not die before emerging from his flat. And his shampoo is nice too, it’s his mom’s shampoo, because he has her curls and—

“Richie!”

He straightens up abruptly, as if someone just kicked him in the balls, eyes still blurry, like a newborn bird’s.

“Ye.”

Someone starts laughing.

“He sounds like that vine.”

Richie blinks and turns to his left, still not quite conscious of the situation, yet quite aware that this someone’s laughing at him.

The first boy he sees sits one seat away from Richie, but he’s leaning forward, elbows on knees, face on the palms of his hands. He’s the one who said about the vine (Richie’s almost one hundred percent sure he knows which vine), and although Richie feels very attacked, he has to admit, the boy’s cute. He has dark skin, dark eyes, jawline to kill (and to die) for, and his smile is so wide and genuinely nice that it would be a shame to get mad at the owner.

Fuck this guy, he’s educated on vines and he’s hot. If it wasn’t for the “basically a ray of sunshine” part, Richie would fall.

And then there’s the asshole. He opens his mouth again.

“The peanut baby vine?” Richie looks at the mop of curly dark-blond hair, currently hiding the said asshole’s face as he turns to look at the first guy, and Richie’s offended diva is back. He may be a fuckup, but no one has a right to say anything about his hair with a voice like this. Even if it’s greasy as fuck, knotty and smells like used oil, like everyone’s hair smells after visiting places where kitchens are inside the main room and they just keep frying the shit out of food right in front of you; even then, no one can say shit about his hair, even—

“Yeah, that one,” the dark-skinned guy laughs again, and the curly asshole turns to face Richie.

No one can say shit about Richie’s hair, even if they own Cupid’s face. No joke, the guy—pardon, the motherfucker looks like an epitome of Cupid from the Psyche myth (not the fat winged baby). Richie quickly gets mad at himself for paying this much attention to the guy, but know your enemy, right? Know your enemy — their hair dark blond hair, like fields of rye in November, their plump pale lips and pale, although with a warm undertone, skin with an almost invisible constellation of freckles on the wings of his nose, their eyes and their dark, muddy colour Richie can’t really identify in the poor lighting of the auditorium. They’re bright with joy and fox-like curiosity, yet insolent and a little arrogant; daring.

Seriously, do people have to be this pretty? One is hot, like an Abercrombie model you see once and think of for days, the second one is not hot but really, really attractive, like someone who would make a fortune with this intense stare, peeling you off right there, where you’ve had a misfortune to capitulate.

“Rich,” he feels Bill’s large hand on his shoulder, still participating in this ugly staring competition with the curly one. “Guys, we’re sorry ag-again, huh-he’s really tired and doesn’t cuh-control himself.”

Richie blinks and frowns, ready to explode right into Bill’s face, but he cuts him off.

“Come on, Richie, we gotta go.”

They stand up, Richie taking his empty slurpie glass in one hand and looking at the guys again. Everything feels like a dream, his brain is too heavy, his legs disobey, his hands don’t feel like they belong to him.

“ ‘s alright, no big deal,” the first boy says again with the gentlest glimmer to his eyes and the loveliest smile, but Richie…Richie’s tired and bitter and…stupid.

“Yeah, you’re probably used to people leaving after waking up with you,” he says, looking directly into the curly one’s eyes. “Not you, you’re cool,” he winks quickly at his friend, as Bill starts swearing quietly and pulling Richie towards the door.

“Dude,” he says, when they both emerge from the cinema doors, a cig already in his fingers. He offers his pack to Richie without a word.

They smoke in silence, walking towards Richie’s car, and Richie is the one to break it.

“Did I really fall asleep on him?”

Bill chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Yes you did. I didn’t notice until the lights were on.”

“Surprised he didn’t say anything,” Richie mutters, turning the car key.

“You’re too hard on the guy,” Bill huffs out, lips still wearing a lopsided grin. “He didn’t say anything—“

“Yes he did, I heard what he said about my hair, it’s—“

“Rich,” Bill sighs, but he’s not in the least bit mad or disapproving. Bill has always been a keeper of the wonderful gift of understanding. “He said you weren’t a bother and that he’s glad your hair’s not greasy. This is a perfectly normal thing to say, you’re just tired and tensed, and take things too personally. You just need a rest. C’mon, want me to drive you home? I’ll catch a bus to mine, no problem.”

***

The next four days Richie spends at home, sleeping and eating. Sleeping, eating, watching Netflix, thinking about the curly boy, sometimes. Actually, the memory of that day quickly turns into something embarrassing for Richie, something he knows that will make his cheeks grow hot and pink even years later. He was really, really rude to the guy, rude for nothing, and the worst part of the situation is — he can’t apologize. And! The worst-worst part is that the second-to-worst part is — the boy was absolutely gorg dot com. What an unfortunate turn of events: Richie can’t even suck his dick as an apology. Or just suck his dick. Whatever, he’d find a way to make it up to the boy, he’s talented with all parts of his body.

But it’s like falling in love with someone you saw on a train or in line at grocery store. Or maybe slightly worse, because Richie manage to fall fucking asleep on the guy, but still — a crush, doomed to picturesque longing and a quiet little death. It’s all about the masochistic nature of humankind — Richie concludes bitterly to himself, because although he’s a certificated Trashmouth, there’s a pathologically romanticistic heart under all these layers of shit.

No, seriously. He’s too much for everyone, even for himself. Especially for himself.

But enough with this shit, Richie decides the moment next, because his mood swings are the only thing wilder than his imagination. C’est la vie, you fuck up and you keep going until you fuck up again. Maybe there is a lesson he can learn, like to keep his mouth shut when he’s tired or, um, to do his homework in time and not traumatize himself…but it’s Richie. He never learns.

He falls asleep on his couch again, trying to decide what he wants to eat after waking up. God only knows why his actual last thought is so, what the curly boy smelled like?

***

Richie doesn’t remember the last time he’s been to a library. He’s always felt that a book should belong to him for being able to read it comfortably, but when you’re assigned to write a research on Andrei Tarkovskiy’s connection with slavic symbolism…not many books you can find in a regular American bookshop down the street.

The library is huge. The entrance is decorated with ionic columns and the door is so massive Richie barely manages to open it. Inside, it’s just as impressive, with the highest ceilings he’s ever seen and beautiful bookcases and tables of dark wood, situated under big thick windows. Richie undoes his scarf and immediately walks towards the service desk, knowing for sure there’s no way he’ll manage to find anything without help. His steps are loud in the monumental silence of this place.

“Uh, hi?” he says, as quietly as he can, and the boy behind the desk looks up at him and smiles politely.

“Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

“Well,” Richie chuckles, trying to hope for the best. “Do you happen to know any books related to slavic symbolism in Soviet cinematography, Andrei Tarkovskiy’s specifically?”

The boy arches his eyebrows. Richie smiles unsurely and gets ready to shrug it off and maybe convince his lecturer to change his topic of research.

“I’ll have to be honest, I have no idea how to help you, sir, but my colleague, who is currently in the section number eight is probably more educated on this matter.”

“Oh, okay,” Richie nods, considering to leave the place right now, but the boy’s softest, a little apologetic smile decide for him.

“It’s to the left, straight up until you see the number.”

“Thank you very much,” Richie tells him and turns towards the rows of bookcases.

12, 11, 10, 9…here it is.

The amount of books is almost frightening. The bookshelves are no less than two and a half meters tall, and Richie immediately imagines one of these things crashing epically right on his head. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, then turns behind the number Eight.

Five or more bookcases, forming some kind of a wall. In a couple of steps from where Richie’s standing, leaning on one of them, there’s a ladder, and on the ladder, one and a half meters above the floor, there’s a boy with a couple of books in his hands. Richie, even in glasses, can’t really see his face, because the light doesn’t reach it.

“Hi,” the boy speaks up first, although Richie decides to wait until he’s finished. It’s like, dangerous. The whole construction looks…unsafe. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, hello, uh, the boy at the desk told me you could help me to find some resources on slavic symbolism in Andrei Tarkovskiy’s films?”

Richie doesn’t notice that he’s holding his breath. The boy’s hands don’t stop, they don’t even flinch, he surely keeps placing the books one by one to where they belong. They’re both silent for a long minute.

“I’m not sure I can help you to find something with both Andrei Tarkovskiy and slavic symbolism, but you could look through slavic symbolism analysis in Russian art in general and the language of Andrei Tarkovskiy’s separately.”

Motherfucker.

“Oh wow, that would actually—“

“Also on the Internet there are a lot of articles on what inspired Tarkovskiy’s methods, if I were you I’d check them out as well.”

The last two books stay tucked under his arm, and that is when he begins to climb down.

“God, lemme help you,” Richie’s heart trembles and starts beating faster at the sight of how tremendously dangerous the boy’s position looks, and he rushes towards the ladder.

“I’m alri—“ the boy turns his head to look at Richie, and when their eyes meet and the spark of recognition explodes between them, two things happen at once: first, Richie’s heart stops, and second, the boy falls down the ladder.

“Bloody fuck,” Richie breathes out, already on his knees beside the boy’s sprawled body. It’s him, of course it’s him, his curly hair, pale freckles on heart-shaped face, but now it’s all red, wearing a grimace of breathless pain. Richie’s so shocked he doesn’t know what to do. The boy turns to lay on his back and a hard moan escapes his lips.

“Oh God, oh fuck, what the—“

“Shut up,” the boy manages to say, chest trembling from the efforts to control his breath. “Shut up and call the—“

“Stan! Jesus, what happened!?”

The other boy is now here too, Richie sees him with the corner of his eye. He looks back though, quickly inspecting the boy’s—Stan’s body.

“What does it look like,” he mocks, cheeks darker than a pomegranate. If Richie wasn’t so terrified, he would appreciate this. Like, a lot. “Call an ambulance, quick, I think my collarbone is broken.”

“Oh my God,” Richie and the other boy mutter in unison, and Stan rolls his eyes.

“Well unfortunately, it’s not my fucking neck, so I’m kind of in pain right now and would really appreciate—“

“God, yes, sorry, yes.”

Richie too pulls out his phone, hands shaking, while Stan closes his eyes and tries to remain unmoving. There’s not much Richie can do, but it’s still something. The other boy’s panicked voice is explaining something in the background. Every ring lasts forever, and when Eddie finally picks the phone, Richie’s sure he almost had a heart attack. Twice.

“Eds? Hi, listen, what do I do if someone breaks their collarbone?”

He accidentally catches Stan’s unreadable stare and looks away, heart already on fire.

“What? Richie, what the fuck, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just—“

“Did anyone break their collarbone?”

“Well it looks like this, yeah.”

“Did you call—“

“Yeah, but—“

“Okay, fuck, okay, most importantly, do not try to move the body until they arrive, it’s really fucking important, got it? Let them stay where they are, immobilize the shoulders completely, also—do you have ice there?”

“Do you—“ Richie turns to the other boy, but he’s still on the phone, so he has to ask Stan. “Do you have ice?”

Stan blinks, and for the first time, Richie notices that he’s balancing his head above the floor. It’s clear lowering it hurts him. Oh, and his pride is too hard-to-swallow to ask for help. It’s hot.

“Yes, I think we do.”

“Yeah, we do,” Richie repeats and moves awkwardly on his knees to help Stan keep his head up. Stan freezes for a second, but then blinks and relaxes into Richie’s hands.

“Use it for pain, you can give them an ibuprofen too, but don’t let them move, Richie, okay!? Now tell me what the fuck—“

“Later, Eds, thanks a lot, bye,” Richie breaths out as fast as he can and focuses on Stan.

Even upside down, he looks pretty.

Fuck.

Richie, shut the hell up, you’ll think about this later, you sick fuck.

Stan looks him in the eye, and Richie sees that those irises are brown. They’re bright with accidental tears, framed with dark thick lashes, and the colour is not exactly brown, more like greenish-brown, like pine tree needles three weeks after Christmas.

“You shouldn’t move,” Richie says, back to reality. “You shouldn’t move, we need ice and you’re allowed to take an ibuprofen.”

“They’re gonna be here in ten minutes,” the other boy finally joins them, face as red as Stan’s. Actually, even worse: red is his neck and probably his shoulders are too.

“Could you bring me some ice? And a glass of water with an ibuprofen?” Stan asks him, and Richie’s finally calmed down enough to notice how calm Stan is, although the situation is…literally the craziest he’s ever been in. He moves his leg to support his arm holding Stan’s head. Fuck, those curls are soft. Not like Richie’s, Richie’s are soft too, but Stan’s are in thicker rings, curling tenderly around Richie’s pale fingers, licking the boy’s unhealthily pale sweaty forehead.

“Like what you see?” Richie hears Stan’s voice and meets his intense gaze again. There is this daring glimmer to his eyes again, and Richie willingly accepts it.

“Dude, stop,” he chuckles weakly, licking his lips. “ You know I’m already in love.”

Despite their position, Stan huffs, but then his face skews of pain.

“Shh,” Richie winces and moves his fingers in an instinctive soothing motion. “You’re gonna be fine soon.”

“It’s not that bad, just a collarbone. Happens to people all the time.”

“At least it didn’t break through your skin,” Richie blurts out and regrets it immediately, cheeks flaming up.

But then, Stan chuckles. There’s a dimple in one of his cheeks, the left one. Richie’s almost sure his eyes are fully heart-shaped by now.

“Here,” the other librarian boy rushes up to them with what looks like a towel, stuffed with ice cubes, and a glass of water.

He puts a pill in Stan’s lips and lets him drink carefully, then passes Richie the towel.

“Tell me where,” Richie murmurs, and despite how fucked up the situation actually is, this feels oddly intimate. He lowers the towel and feels how more tensed Stan grows.

“A bit—yeah,” he breathes out, and Richie presses down a little.

“Told you you should’ve taken a lunch break,” the librarian guy mumbles softly, and for a moment Richie thinks he’s gonna cry.

Stan rolls his eyes. Richie keeps holding. Somewhere near the door bursts open.

***

“This shit’s surreal,” Bill says after a long pause, when Richie calls him from the hospital an hour later. “I don’t believe this.”

“Fair enough,” Richie nods to himself, inspecting his shoes. “And yet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Probably something stupid,” Richie hears Eddie’s voice and grins.

“You’re absolutely correct, Edward.”

“You scared the shit out of me,” comes an answer, and Richie thanks him once again for helping out.

“Trust me, I was ten times worse.”

“It’s actually unbelievable,” Bill says again, and Richie knows the face he’s probably wearing at the moment: blue eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed in the slightest bit, one corner of his lips crooked a little. “If it’s not fate, I don’t know what it is.”

“Ooooow,” Richie and Eddie fondly mock him in unison, and Richie knows for sure someone’s gonna get some when he hangs up. “Don’t get too emotional, Big Bill, Edster likes it rough, just like his mom.”

“Oh for fuck’s—“ Eddie’s scandalized howl is the last thing he hears before the line goes silent, and he’s alone again, with the most shit-eating smirk on his face.

The other librarian boy — Ben, he learned when the ambulance arrived — stayed at the library, and Richie was secretly happy to accompany Stan to the hospital alone, although he insisted a couple of times that Richie doesn’t need to.

Richie’s stomach growls and he needs a fag asap, but there’s no way he’s missing Stan. God only knows when he’s at the library again, and Richie needs…Richie needs to talk.

And when Stan, with a sling supporting his hand, walks out of the emergency room, Richie stands up, not being able to help a smile forming on his face.

“Don’t you have other things to do?” Stan asks him, but he’s not annoyed. He looks tired and disheveled, but still calm, and Richie notices that they’re both the same height. Stan’s all legs though, all legs and curls.

“You’re the most important one on the list,” Richie answers automatically, and Stan purses his lips, clearly unimpressed. His eyes glimmer brighter, though. “Hungry?”

Stan graciously arches his dark eyebrow.

“Are you—“ he cuts himself off, clearly thinking it’s a bad idea, but when Richie keeps waiting (politely, although he’s nervous as fuck, because hello to today’s third heart attack), he licks his lips and starts again. “Are you trying to ask me out?”

“Maybe?” thank God his voice sounds much, much more confident than he, in fact, is.

Richie probably needs to get comfortable with Stan needing a moment of silence to think good. Unlike other people that start…to ramble.

“Sorry, I’m just used to people leaving after waking up with me.”

Richie’s jaw hits the floor harder than that meteor hit the Earth and fucked up the dinosaurs. Go off, Stan the Man, go the fuck off.

And he doesn’t even look proud of himself. It’s as casual for him as it is for Richie to tell your dad a mom joke. For Heaven’s sake, who is this guy?

“Well,” Richie squeaks, feeling that his body is on again, as if something blew his fuse for a moment. “It’s not happening any time soon, pretty boy,” he points at Stan’s sling, “so I thought maybe I could try something different.”

“Like what?” he’s smiling now. Legit.

“A dinner? A couple of them? Maybe films? Although I’ll have to be careful with this one, your shoulders are fragile now.”

Stan’s smile becomes even wider as Richie continues to ramble, and although it’s not the brightest and sunniest smile he’s ever seen, it sure feels like the most precious one. It feels like a reward.

It still feels like the most precious reward, weeks later, when they finally wake up together and Richie only leaves to pee and to make them a coffee. Months later, when Richie lets his hand slide down Stan’s shoulder and feels the slightest crook to his collarbone with the tips of his fingers. Years later, after some shitty horror film about some monster clown who eats kids, when he proposes in that empty cinema auditorium, in those exact seats.

Stan still needs a minute to think good, but his burning, incandescent smile says everything Richie needs to know.

#i hope this is believably unbelievable though #stozier #kaspbrough #drabble #okay we concluded its not a drabble #ficlet #...i guess? #stanley uris #richie tozier #mine

[princecupcakee]

Park Bench | Reddie

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 2,969

Chapter: 5/8

Past Chapters: Chapter 1 (AO3), Chapter 2 (AO3), Chapter 3 (AO3), Chapter 4 (AO3)

Next Chapter: 

Summary: Recently divorced and ‘incapable of love’, Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Los Angeles for work and a small, small hope of a fresh start. Broken up and never dated again, Richie Tozier tries to get back into love with help from his love of music. Quickly meeting eyes and one concert later, they think that maybe love isn’t that bad. So they try it one more time.

Chapter 5: Richie Tozier And Eddie Kaspbrak Get A Turtle, Richie Tozier Plans A Proposal, Richie Tozier Goes Viral

Tags/Warnings: Angst / Unhappy Ending / theres only one sex scene but this is explicit anyway / Bisexual Richie Tozier / Gay Eddie Kaspbrak / Post-Divorce / Implied/Referenced Cheating / Inspired By Remembering Sunday (All Time Low) / Inspired by The Book Ninja by Ali Berg / Implied/Referenced Child Abuse / Implied/Referenced Abuse / Implied/Referenced Manipulation

Tag-list: @richietoaster​, @s-s-georgie​, @mikeuris​​, @gazebobullshit​, @that-weird-girls-blog​, @tozierking​​, @thoughtfullyyoungduck​, @s-onora​, @bellarosewrites​, @lermanslogan​, @ambitiousskychild​, @ghostnebula​, @vanillaredvelvet​, 

(Ask if you wanna be on the tag-list!!)

Chapter 5

Richie Tozier And Eddie Kaspbrak Get A Turtle

“Look, if you don’t get me the papers before the end of this week, we will lose this client… yes, I know. I have a meeting with them at the end of this week…yes, I need them tomorrow, Karen… yes. Yes, thank you.” Eddie sighed and threw his head back on the couch. His last few days have been absolutely hectic, with one of their biggest clients yet, he’s barely been able to get a break.

“Eds!” Richie called, opening the door, “I’m back! Where are you?”  He had gone out to see Walter and Maddison for a few hours while his parents were busy with his sister. He didn’t ask for more details.

“Yeah! I’m here!” Eddie tiredly calls.

Richie smiled weakened when he saw Eddie tiredly sprawled across the couch, “I got a gift for you.”

“What is it?” Eddie smiles, pulling his head back up.

Richie takes his hands away from behind his back and holds… a turtle. Richie’s eyes wide and bright, “look! I went to this restaurant across the street —don’t ask why— and found this little guy in a cage! It was ridiculous! I told them if I could have it and they just let me.”

“Why… why would you get me a turtle?” Eddie irritatedly asked.

“I thought-“

“Are you stupid? Richie, what are we supposed to do with a turtle? How are we supposed to take care of it?”

“We can go to the pet shop and-“

“Neither of us know how to take care of a turtle. Are you sure its even safe? W-we could get, like, Salmonella or something!”

“Eds.” Richie strictly said, his face showing no sign of anger, “it’ll be fun though. We can take care of it together, we can go to the pet store and get stuff- I’ll wash my hands after touching it every time.”

Eddie looked at the turtle skeptically, “fine,” he finally said. Richie’s smile came back and sat down beside Eddie who slightly moved away after. Ignoring the movement, Richie asks him, “what do we name it? We can name it, like, Pennywise.”

“What? No! That sounds horrible! That sounds like a- a fucking horror movie character or something!”

“That the name of the killer clown that you thought broke into Ben and Bev’s house and tried to kill you?” Richie snickered.

“Fuck you,” Eddie hisses with no real anger.

“Well, what names do you have?”

“Uh, I don’t know… Maturin.”

Richie gave him a look, “Okay, thats no better than mine!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, no, no, you know what? Hold on,” Richie rambles, taking his phone from his pocket. Quickly typing something, Eddie gets a notification from his phone. Thinking its Karen (finally) giving him the papers early, he sighs and opens his phone. Karen is still definitely late with giving him the paperwork, but now Richie has created a group chat. Eddie was already fearful of what would come.

The Family - Ben Marsh, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Stan Uris, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak

Stan: What the fuck is it this time, Richie.

Bev: Stan be nice

Richie: Yeah stan be nice

Richie could hear Eddie snicker beside him.

Richie: but anyway, me and Eddie are dads and we need a name for our child

Bev: how did this motherfucker get a kid

Bev: I thought it would be stan and patty first

Eddie: How did you get Mike and Bill’s numbers?

Richie: Nothing.

Stan: He’s lying, he never uses punctuation.

“Shit,” Richie murmured.

“How are you this bad at hiding things?”

Mike: He asked us what your favourite food was so he would know where to take you out on a date, Eddie.

Richie: nO

Richie waited for Eddie’s reaction, he assumed that Eddie wasn’t uncomfortable, seeing as there was a blush on his face.

Stan: Wait a minute. Mike Hanlon? Like, ‘first-ever-school-day-was-college’ Mike Hanlon?

Mike: Thats how you remember me?

“They know each other?” Richie says from beside Eddie.

“I think they were exes.”

“Really?”

“Thats what I remember” Eddie shrugged looking back down on his phone. He knew it was pretty stupid to be texting in a group chat while they sat together, but they did need that name. (Thats what Eddie tried to tell himself, if the true reason isn't obvious enough.)

Stan: Holy shit. Dude hey how’ve you been?

Mike: Pretty good actually.

Richie: GUYS WE’RE NAMING MY CHILD

Richie: HELLO!! PAY ATTENTION

Mike: I’m staying in LA for a while since they needed more people in this branch.

Mike: Thats also why Eddie and my boyfriend are here too.

Stan: Good for you, man. I’m assuming your boyfriend is Bill Denbrough because thats the only name I’m not familiar with.

Ben: You’re familiar with Eddie’s?

Richie: GUYS

Stan: Richie doesn’t know how to shut up.

Richie: DO YOU NOT CARE THAT I HAVE A CHILD NOW

“Richie, how are you still this annoying over text?”

“You love it.”

“I really don’t,” he laughs and shakes his head. He does.

Bev: Richie, if you did have a child I would know immediately.

Mike: Yeah it is :)

Richie: DAMN HETS LISTEN TO ME

Mike: not hetero

Bill: I’m not straight either

Richie: DAMN PEOPLE LISTEN TO ME

Stan: I’ve generally had enough.

Bev: Alright, Losers (not you Ben and Mike) we’re all getting lunch. Bring your ‘child’, Richie. We’ll name him there.

Richie Tozier changed the chat name to ‘The Losers’ Club’

With Bev sending the address of the restaurant “Our friends confuse me,” Eddie says shutting his phone.

~~~

“Meet my child!” Richie says loudly, earning a few looks from the others in the restaurant. He takes a seat in between Stan and Eddie grinning widely and presenting the currently unnamed turtle.

“Its-its a fucking turtle,” Stan says critically.

“His name is Penny-“

“No its not,” Eddie smiles as he cuts him off.

“What names do you guys have?” Ben asks politely, trying to bring back the lightness of the table before the two had walked in.

“Pennywise.”

“Maturin.”

The table spun with an agreement to Eddie’s name over Richie’s choice as Richie pouts in his seat. A waitress came to check for their orders, a confused look on her face once seeing the turtle perfectly still in Richie’s hands.

“Richie that name sounds like a child’s nightmare,” Bev jokes once the waitress has gone. Richie sticks his tongue out to her childishly.

“Maturin it is then?” Eddie laughs triumphantly.

“Where did you even get that name?” Richie asks bitterly. The rest of the group just laughs.

Eddie loved this. He really did. Everyone talking and enjoying and Eddie finally feeling like he hasn’t done anything wrong. They felt like family. The few people who he could talk to without causing any pain or problem. The few people who would let him be himself without having to feel like he was in a cage. He didn’t want to lose any of this. And from the smile on Richie’s face, he doesn’t think he will.

Richie Tozier Plans A Proposal

Some people would think he was crazy. He thought he was crazy.  They were dating for just slightly more than three months and he was already planning, the date, the time, the place of when he would ask Eddie to marry him. ‘Old habits die hard’ Richie guesses as he sits alone in his bed, writing down the perfect ideas for asking Eddie.

Yeah, he rushed it with Connor, but even he knew that it wouldn’t last. That doesn’t really add up to his actions after the break up. But this was Eddie. Eddie loves him, right? He’s said so; that alone shows he isn’t anything like Connor. He couldn’t be wrong anymore, he didn’t want to have to latch on to Stan as he did before. He was nuisance while living at the Uris’, he admits that he knows he doesn’t have all the reason for it. He basically asked for it when he said, after what was supposed to be a one-night-stand, that he was dating Connor. That was on him.

But Eddie walked out of a concert with him, a stranger at the time, and let him walk him home after remembering that Connor left him at the same concert ground with the same band playing to have another one night stand with a girl. He went to one of his shows after knowing close to nothing about him other than his name when he was late to the first date he would’ve had since his horrible break up.  He went to have breakfast with him at 5 in the morning when he cried about never being loved again the night before. He sat with him in the pouring rain after realising that he was in love. That he was in love, not that he was in love again.

He turns from his back to his stomach, reaching out for his phone. He debates on whether or not to call Bev or Stan, ‘both those bitches are married,’ he thinks. And calls both of them.

“What the fuck do you want I’m trying to make dinner,” Stan says tiredly, his voice sounding distant and the sound of crackling filling the empty parts on his end.

“Whats up, Rich?” Bev says nicely, shuffling.

“I, uh,” he didn’t think it would be that hard to say.

“Spit it out, Tozier, I might fuck up my pesto.”

“Oh shit, you got pesto? Uris Pesto is the best! Can I come over?” Richie says enthusiastically.

“No. Talk, Richie,” Stan says quickly. Beverly laughs in the background.

“I wanna ask Eddie to marry me,” Richie says softly, after a beat of silence.

“Thats it? You interrupted my cooking for this shit?”

“Its serious, man!”

Beverly sighs, “Richie, Eddie loves you. This is all on you though. If you think both of you are ready, then go for it. If you’re just… scared, then, I don’t think you should.”

“I-I’m not scared,” he says to himself more than them.

“You just love him?”

“Yeah.”

“He really isn’t like anyone else, huh?” Bev laughs.

“He really isn’t,” Richie smiles to himself.

“Then do it,” Stan says simply, “if you love him enough to marry him, to ask him to marry you, then that must be something, right?”

“Thanks,” Richie says, fondly, “help me buy the ring soon?"

“Of course, Richie. Now, when, where, and how?” Beverly giggles.

~~~

His notebook opens on the coffee table, leftovers, and a cup of coffee, he attempted to plan. A restaurant didn’t seem interesting to him, a casual proposal in their house wasn’t really fun, their house maybe? The bench. He grinned and jotted down the plan.

Richie Tozier Goes Viral

“Eds, where’s my charger?” Richie asked walking out their room.

“We’ve been dating for, what, four months? How do you still not know where I put our chargers?”

“You clean things too often, I specifically remember leaving it on the floor of  my side of the bed.”

“Your blind ass would’ve stepped on it when you woke up. Your charger is in the drawer,” Eddie said and continued to eat his cereal. Richie kissed his hair and walked back to their room.

Eddie sighed. He loves Richie, he really does, but- “Eds, look at this,” Richie said excitedly almost tripping on his legs as he walked over to Eddie. Richie instinctively wrapped his arm around Eddie and showed his phone screen.

It took Eddie a moment to register what Richie was showing him, but when his thoughts hit him again he grinned, “holy shit, Rich! This is amazing!” Richie’s screen presented a video, Richie’s latest stand-up, posted online; millions of views.

“I know! And that’s not all of it,” Richie said taking his phone back to him and began to tap around, “Look!” Eddie carefully read the text on the screen, asking him to do a professional show, his grin somehow widening.

“Richie!”

“I know! And so many people are asking to be my agent and shit, and- oh fuck, baby, you gotta help me out with all this shit,” he rambles excitedly, hand gestures to try to emphasise whatever point he was trying to get across.

“Of course!” Eddie laughed to slightly lessen his energy as he stood up and kissed Richie. Richie gladly kissed back, lifting Eddie off the ground for a few seconds.

“I love you,” Richie said, forehead against Eddie’s. Richie’s phone rang loudly from his hand and they both looked at the screen and saw ‘Mrs. Molly Ringwald’

“Really?” Eddie asks sarcastically as he pulls the phone from Richie’s hands. He kisses him on the cheek and answers the call on speaker. “Hey, Bev.”

“Oh my god, did you hear about Richie! Is he asleep? I swear the little shit will be late to your own wedding-“

“I’m right here, Bev!” Richie says loudly into the phone.

“Oh. Sorry. But anyway, you heard the news! I’m so proud of you, Rich!”

“Thank you!”

“We heard the news from Bill! He has all these Hollywood connections from his books —honestly don’t know why he won’t just do that instead, no offence Eddie— and he said that you might be getting a… professional show, is it?”

“Yeah! Bill’s a writer?”

“He has some books and actually gets some good money out of it," Eddie muttered the next part,” he might get more if he wrote better endings.”

“Okay anyway, so proud of you, Rich!” Beverly congratulates again after laughing.

~~~

So as they sit in Richie’s small apartment sofa, with his hands on Eddie’s waist and Eddie’s fingers curled around in Richie’s tangled hair, he lets himself enjoy it. Richie’s arms roam under Eddie’s shirt; one hand pressed on his back and the other rubbing circles around his nipple. Eddie lets out little moans, that surge of energy through him that he didn’t even think was possible.  “Are you okay?” Richie asks.

Eddie was confused at first, still needing Richie to touch him. He noticed the pounding in his chest after a few seconds mumbling a breathy ‘I’m fine,’ and goes back to kissing Richie. Of course, a few seconds later he realises why. ‘Push them away, Kaspbrak.’

Richie lightly tugs at the bottom of Eddie shirt, Eddie quickly getting the message and raising his arms up. Richie instantly pushes Eddie’s back onto the sofa after taking his shirt off; his hands tracing every part of Eddie’s bare chest.

Eddie remembers the feeling, of being touched like this, not with Myra. Being touched in a house that wasn’t his and a bed that he wasn’t supposed to be on. But Eddie loved every second of it. Sure there was the guilt, the guilt of having a wife back home thinking he’s out late for work or out with a friend, but the feeling of it was just so good. Eddie thinks he should stop using the word ‘good’ so much but it seemed to be the only way he could describe this odd sensation in words.

Richie was pulling off his pants little by little, struggling to get them off and still keep his mouth around Eddie’s chest. The moment Richie got them off he instantly moved down to Eddie’s legs. Spreading and licking and biting at the inner side of Eddie’s thighs until they left deep marks on Eddie’s skin while his dick would twitch. “Richie take your clothes off,” he mumbled pulling at Richie’s hair in between moans.

“I’m not as pretty as you, baby, but okay,” he laughed, pulling his shirt off and kissing Eddie roughly. Eddie wanted tot protest about Richie’s statement but Eddie pulled Richie by his hair instead. Richie wanted to make a joke about it but was quickly distracted by Eddie grinding against his leg that was in between Eddie’s thighs. Richie bit down on Eddie’s neck, “don’t move, I got it,” he whispered in his ear.

Richie licked at the front of Eddie’s underwear; Eddie bucking his hips up. “I told you, don’t move,” Richie said again, pulling down Eddie’s underwear. Eddie felt cold, but Richie spreading his legs further, and his tongue teased at Eddie’s hole as he whines. Richie giggles slightly pushing his tongue in and gripping at Eddie’s thighs. His thumbs softly rub at the inner side of his thighs, feeling little bumps on the places he had sunk his teeth into only minutes earlier, he pushed his tongue in and out of Eddie’s hole. Richie pushed one finger in first, slowly adding more digits as his tongue kept moving. His tongue and fingers alternated like that for a while, at the same time he was getting hard from the noises Eddie makes.

“Richie!” Eddie shouted. Smirking, Richie aimed for his prostate over and over as Eddie’s moans grew louder and louder. Eddie’s hands had moved down to his dick, moving has a hand at a quick pace. One last strong push from Richie’s tongue or fingers (Eddie was too busy to tell) Eddie shrieked and let out more than he has in a while. Most of it had gotten on Richie’s hair some trailing down his face. “Fuck,” Eddie throws his head back against the sofa as Richie moves up to his chest again. Head resting on Eddie’s chest and kissing his nipple, his hands quickly move down to his own dick and moved. Eddie smiled, holding Richie’s face in his hands and kissing his lips. Richie pulled away and moaned as he came.  “Holy shit,” Richie mumbled forehead resting against Eddie’s as he laughed, “Wow. Been a long fucking time.”

“I know,” Eddie agreed. Despite the anxious feeling bubbling up inside him. Richie didn’t ask.

#reddie #reddie fic #it #it chap one #it chap two #remembering sunday + the book ninja au #listen this is just a filler #I didnt like this that much honestly #the next chapter is where it starts

[softuris]

wanderlust || part 9

stanley uris x reader * ✩‧₊˚

part1 + part2 + part3 + part4 + part5 + part6 + part7 + part8

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masterlist... (-)

request here... (-)

Despite the euphoric bliss that put you to sleep that night, you woke up alone. Despite your strong sense of security last night, he was not beside you. Despite this. Despite that. Despite. Despite. Despite.

You managed to climb out of bed, the horrible pit in your stomach making you feel all the more unmotivated. Sliping out of your clothes from last night, you made your way to the bathroom connected to guestroom. You mentally made a note to thank Mike again for letting you stay here. Facing yourself in the mirror, you shimmy out of your undergarments and stare at the small hickies that littered your chest and neck. With a single finger you, traced around a particularly red spot and hissed, not from pain, but from idea of having to explain yourself to the others.

It was difficult for you to smile. Sure, maybe Stan just found his way downstairs before your woke up. It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal. You stepped into the shower, and tensed up at the feeling of cold against your skin.

Skin. Skin. Skin.

You cleared your throat as the glass shower filled with clouds of steam. If they saw me this defeated, they’d know what happened. They know how affected I am, you thought. Slathering your hair in shampoo you felt like staying in the shower forever. Before you know it you’re sitting on the floor, the water from overhead splashing pitifully on your back and forehead. You sunk your head on your knees and traced a cut on your ankle, no doubt from the trip to the Grand Canyon.

He’s probably just waiting downstairs.

You scoffed at yourself. Your own thoughts.

Yah right.

A half hour had gone by before you realized you were still lying in a puddle of your own shame. The shower by no means was washing this away, like you had initially thought it would. It somehow made this feeling worsen. You stood up, turned the nozzle off, and stepped out of the shower solemnly. You searched for a towel, and beneath a cabinet you found the fluffiest towel you think you’d ever seen. Regardless of your mood, you found it difficult not to stuff your nose in it’s warmth and give it a good wiff. Which you did.

Beachy.

“I’m going to stay in California once we get there.”

Stan’s words echoed in your mind, and it stung. It stung so bad. The kind of pain that starts in your chest and slowly engulfs your whole being, leaving you all but emobilized. You clenched the towel in a death grip, holding it to your face to prevent tears from falling. Despite the efforts to stop them, soon enough your cheeks were red and blotchy, the corners of your eyes begging to let it out. Your throat ran dry and you swallowed what felt like a sob.

The boy you met in the first grade. The boy you couldn’t help but admire. The boy you learned to love. Stan. Stan was leaving.

You knew it wasn’t anything personal.

“I got accepted into UCLA.”

Slowly, you pried your face from the towel. Why did he wait to tell you? Would he not have told you if what happened last night never happened? After all, the two of you almost...

**knock **knock

A sudden knock at the door pulled you out of your depressive trance . “Who is it?” you called meekly to the other side of the door.

“It’s Beverly! You coming down honey? It’s almost noon.”

Your eyes grew wide. Noon? “Oh Bev! Right um,” you stuttered, frantically searching the bathroom for where you put your phone. “I lost track of time,” you frown, defeated, clutching your phone in your right hand. It was 10:54 AM.

Beverly sighed from the other side of the door. “Don’t beat yourself up, love. We’re still eating breakfast. Just wanted to be sure Stan really did bring you home last night.”

Your body tensed up at the mention of his name. A name that should’ve brought you joy. It wasn’t that you were mad at Stan, but with his confession to you about staying in California, combined with him not waking up with you. Something changed, whether you liked it or not.

“Thanks Bev. I made it home,” you all but whispered.

“Hey,” Beverly called to you. “Let me in.”

That’s it. She heard the pain in your voice. As much as you tried to hide it, you knew Beverly could read you like a book, even from behind the door.

With the quickness of a snail coated in peanut butter, you opened the door for Beverly. She was dressed in a cute baby blue babydoll dress layered on top of a white tshirt. You were simply wrapped in your white bath towel. “Hey,” she cooed, immediately pulling you into her arms for a hug after seeing your tear stained cheeks. She gave off such a comforting aura, but that scratching feeling in your throat somehow made a reapperance. Except this time you couldn’t hold down the sobs. Her delicate hands ran through your wet hair, shushing you gently, whispering “It’ll be ok,” over and over.

You regained your composure, prying yourself from Beverly’s loving grasp. “You know me so well,” you chuckled, wiping away the last of your tears.

Beverly pulled you in quick to kiss your forehead and play with a rope of hair beside your face. “What did he do to you?” she growled, her eyes fixed on the hair strung between her fingers.

“What?” you ask.

“Stan. Something happened with Stan,” she said lowly, finally meeting your eyes.

“Oh. Noth—“

“Don’t give me that crap. I can read you like a Mike can read a vegan cookbook, love,” she giggled. She was right.

You couldn’t find the words. After all, you weren’t even sure Stan had told the others he was staying. The last thing you wanted to do was take that away from him. But before you knew it, the words were spilling out of your mouth. “It’s just— It’s just he’s staying,” you mumble, completely disregarding the warnings in your head. “Stan got accepted into UCLA.”

Beverly let her hand fall back to her side, before grabbing your hand in hers. “Oh my g—“

“Please don’t say anything! Based on how you’re reacting is telling me you guys didn’t know. I’d hate for the others to resent him for not telling them!” you sputter out, sitting down on the floor in anguish. Down came Beverly with you.

You both sat there in the bathroom, on a fuzzy purple bathmat. The sounds of your sobs filled the room as Beverly ran a comforting finger across your exposed knee. Your grip on the towel you were rapped in tightened when Beverly spoke.

“I won’t say a thing.”

You loved Beverly. You loved her so much.

“Thank you...”

Positioning herself against the tub beside you, she leaned her head on your shoulder, lazily intertwining your arms like you used to do as kids. “He loves you, you know,” she smiled to herself. You looked at her after she spoke, a look of pure disbelief on your face. “I’m serious,” she smiled cheerfully at you. “He’s serious.”

You couldn’t help but smile, remembering how gentle he was with you last night, while simultaneously not holding back. You remembered the way his hands felt on your body, the way his kisses all but seared into your skin. You remembered how attractive his low voice sounded, so out of breath. You remembered how quickly he backed off when you said you wanted to wait. He did care.

Beverly’s eyes were glossed over with happiness. “I can’t be sure what happened last night, but by the looks of it,” she poked your exposed neck, littered with love bites, “He told you he’s staying because you mean a lot to him.”

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, that hangnail on your thumb looking oh-so interesting all of a sudden.

“Hey don’t get bashful on me,” she continued, chuckling like a child. “Between you and me, Stan comes to me for advice about you.”

And just like that, your attention was drawn back to her words. “You’re joking,” you doubted, looking Beverly in the eyes.

She shook her head, biting back a smile. “You think that nerd is just naturally suave? Guess again, sweetheart. He gets his moves from this naturally suave lesbian,” she chuckles, pointing her thumbs at herself.

You chuckle too, face growing hotter and hotter by the minute.

“I remember this one time he came up to me on the last day of school and was like, ‘Bev I need an excuse to see them this Summer! What do I do?’ and i slapped that motherfucker across the face. I said ‘Who said you need an excuse? Ask her to go to the quarry with you.’ Remember that day? Remember when he asked you to the quarry?”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes. You did remember.

“Or-Or there was this time he wanted to plan a night for the two of you to watch movies. He actually got scared and invited everyone else. It’s a tradition to do it every Friday now, but it started with his infatuation for you, honey.”

How.... Sweet. You had no idea.

“He loves you. He told me himself. He. loves. you.”

You love him too.

——

You and Beverly managed to find your way downstairs to the dining room both of your suicases in hand, and were greeted by a smiling Mike. He had toast in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other, but still managed to hug you. “Mornin’,” he chuckled, making a dramatic face as he tried not to spill his cup of juice. Offering a loving smile, you took a seat at the wooden table.

“How’d you sleep l-last night?” Bill asked you, appearing around the corner from the kitchen, chewing on a bite from an apple in his hand.

You looked around the room for the others; Richie, Ben, Eddie. Stan. “I slept wonderfully,” you smiled big again, “Mike, please tell your family thank you for letting us stay here. It’s been so nice.”

Mike chuckled, setting his toast and juice on the table, before kneeling down to put on his sneakers. “Of course, they’re happy to have us.”

From around the corner then came Eddie, a suitcase wheeled behind him. “You guys ready? I’d be happy to drive again,” he spoke, but kept his eyes fixed on Bill.

Bill nodded, before meeting Eddie’s questioning eyes. “Yeah—yeah, but they have to eat first.” Bill turned back toward you, expectantly.

“Oh uhh, I’ll just grab some fruit for the road,” you offer back, recieving a grin from Bill.

“A-Alright.”

Around the corner then came Ben and Stan, each with their own suitcases.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Stan, but in the short glimpse you caught of him, he was wearing black work pants with a white graphic tee tucked in and a belt. God, his hair was barely damp, no doubt from a shower, and his golden curls bounced gently as he walked. His face was so smooth, you noticed, so effortlessly ethereal. Your mind flashed a picture of Stan from last night; His eyes shut and a sleepy smile on his face. He looked different. He looked sad.

Yes, you were probably staring, but you were soon spooked out of that trance when Richie threw an arm over your shoulder. “Whadya say, babe? Let’s get out of here! California! WOO!” he hollered into your ear, earning groans from the rest of the group. You didn’t even hear him come in.

——

The ride was long, and almost completely silent. Eddie and Richie sat in the front seats again; Eddie driving and Richie his copilot. As everyone packed the van, they realized they left the large cooler from their previous stop inside, and played the game “Nose Goes” to go retrieve it. Ben was supposed to get it, however before you knew it, the van was started and the house was far behind you.

You sat in the middle row of seats, next to the window, and Stan sat next to you in the middle. It should’ve been awkward, but it weirdly wasn’t. For a breif moment he fell asleep on your shoulder, his fingers laced with yours, and in that moment you ached. This was the same pain you felt that morning, waking up without him, and remembering his confession to you.

You squeezed his hand urging him to wake up. “Hey,” you whispered to him in the sleepy atmopshere of the car. “Stan.”

Blinking awake, Stan hummed. “What?” He curled tighter to your side upon waking up.

“Look at me, babe,” you urge him, his eyelashes fluttering open at your command, revealing his loving eyes. God this would never get old. “Are you ok?” you whispered.

He looked at you in silence, well almost silence. A loud snort from the backseat from Ben makes me tense up, and Stan immediately begins rubbing circles on your arm. “Mhm,” he hums again, big eyes looking up at you.

You’re not convinced. “This is hurting me, seeing you like this.” You bite your lip. “Please talk to me.”

Stan looks down at your hands woven together, a sleepy look still plastered on his features. “I hate goodbyes,” he whispers for only you to hear, eyes meeting your prying gaze again.

Silence.

You blink. “Me too.”

“I don’t know how I’m gonna go about this,” he sighs.

“I’m here to help, Stan.”

“I know.” Stan leans close to you, face blank, and presses a gentle kiss to the temple of your head. “You’re so good to me,” he says nonchalantly.

Those were the words he said last night, amidst your passionate revelation. The words, so tired, and fiery, echoed in your head.

You stared blankly at the seat in front of you. Fearing that if you let go of his hand he’d vanish, you tightened your grip. “Don’t distance yourself from me,” you said softly, holding your gaze on the seat in front of you. From the corner of your eye you can see Eddie’s hand, poorly hidden behind the console between seats, clutching Richie’s.

“You’re right,” Stan sighed, eyes fixed on Eddie and Richie’s hands also. “I really thought that was the best way of approaching this, this morning. I’m sorry for that.”

Love.

He knew you oh so well.

“It’s alright.”

“I’m not gonna leave your side, y’know,” he spoke, a little louder than before.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving your side. Not until you are back in the car on your way back to Derry. I promise. I’ve spent too much time not by your side, and i’ve got approximately 24 hours left to make up for it.”

You heart all but stopped.

“Alright.”

——

Bill checked everyone into the hotel. Out of all the places you’ve stayed so far on this trip, this had to be the sketchiest. You weren’t sure whether it was the barred windows, the sound of the smoker’s cough next door, or the swimming pool with a painting tarp covering it, but you were thoroughly grateful this wasn’t a permenant move.

Stan carried you and his bags to the room, the sun beginning to set upon your arrival to San Diego. Honestly, you could live with spending a night or two in this shit hole motel if it meant you got to visit the beach. While waiting for Ben to unlock the door to the room, Stan made faces at you, dramatic and immature faces. You made some back.

“We made it, you guys!” Ben shouted, throwing his belongings on a chair near the door, as the others followed him inside. Bill groaned, unimpressed by the hotel that was picked out. He’ll get over it, you thought.

Richie closed the door behind him, as he was the last to enter. Eddie carried his and Richie’s bags inside and stumbled into one of the beds in a fit of exhaustion. “I’m. So. Tired,” Eddie huffed, as Richie came to sit at the edge of the bed. He placed a calming hand on his back.

“I would say lets so relax at the pool, but it looks to be... out of order,” Bill whines, peeking out the blinds of the room’s window to see the pool outside.

Bending down to rummage through her own bag, Beverly hummed thoughtfully. “I have some cash actually,” she suggested. “Mike do you wanna run down to the liquor store across the street with me to pick up a lil sumtin sumtin,” she giggled, grabbing hold of Mike’s hand before he can answer.

Mike sighs, a delighted smile across his kind face. “What would do without a 21 year old like me, huh? Tell me, Bev,” he jokes, letting Beverly lead him out the door.

Stan sat meekly on the bed, patting the spot beside him, suggesting you to sit too. Sitting down beside him, he wraps an arm around you, and pulls you close.

“Stan, I’m so tired, I might never get up if I lay down now,” you whisper to him, watching as Bill gets his swim trunks out of his bag and hangs them up in the closet, no doubt for your anticipated beach day tomorrow. Ben walks to the bathroom and shuts the door.

Lips press against the temple of the head, and Stan let’s his arm around you go. “Get some sleep, flower,” he insists, shuffling towards his suitcase on the floor. On the way he kicks off his shoes, then kneels before the bag to retrieve a pair of basketball shorts. You watch as he makes his way to the bathroom, trading places with Ben, who is now in his own pajamas. When Stan returns, he sits gently back on the bed, letting himself lean up against the headboard. “C’mere,” he calls to you. You immediately oblidge.

Bill turns the TV on but you hardly care. You watch as Stan traces small shapes into the warm skin on your knee, every now and then adjusting his arm around you. “Baby, I’m tired,” you whine, tugging on his sleeve immaturely.

With that, Stan’s phone buzzes, sending vibrations through your body. “One minute,” he promises, getting up from his spot and grabbing hold of the phone in his pocket. “Shit—“ he mutters before disappearing outside, shutting the door behind him.

I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t, you tell yourself.

You turn at look at the dusty analog clock on the night stand beside you. 11:23PM

Your eyes scan the room. Eddie is passed out on the bed, Richie sitting up beside him, his chin resting on his knees. Ben sits in a chair beside the front door, his head hung backwards as he snored violently.

Ehhh fuck it.

From the spot on the bed, you got up, opting to sit on your knees in the chair next to Ben’s. Upon having a seat, you woke Ben, emitting a loud snort. “Fu— Sorry I uh...” Ben began, but distracted by you pressing your ear against the wall. “Whatcha doing?” he finally asked.

You chuckle. “Just um— I’m being nosey,” you admit, trying to focus on the conversation Stan is having on the phone outside.

“I’m not so sure, Dad,” Stan could be heard saying. “I’m not sure that’s where I’m meant to be. I’ve got lots going for me out here.”

It’s his dad.

“Yes. Yes. California, I already told you. I just made it here today actually.”

You don’t recall Stan speaking to his dad before on this trip. Not that it was any of your business.

“I’ve got guys bringing my belongings down here as we speak. Yes. I left them with the Tozier’s, Richie’s family. Look I tried to say goodbye, but you wanted nothing to do with me.”

You remembered what he first told you when you asked why he came on this trip; that he came out seeking time away from his father and the pressure that came with being his son. You thought his parents were hard on him, that his potential was far beyond Derry, Maine.

And now Stan is accepted into UCLA.

“Fine. Fine. I can live with that.”

With that, Stan hung up and was turning the door handle, leaving you scampering back to the bed where he left you. Of course he saw.

“You heard, didn’t you?” he asked, sliding his phone onto the bedside table. You nodded nervously. He sighed. “C’mere, kid.”

You cuddled close to him then, wishing him peace in this difficult time. Crawling over his lap, you press kisses to his cheeks and neck and ears and anywhere your desperate self can. God, this was such an important week for him and he didn’t have the support from his parents. The thought made your stomach twist in knots.

“Stanny,” you whispered, holding him close. Your heart hurt for him.

He smiled down at you, his face defeated yet wonderous. “It’s alright. I’ve got all I need,” he cracked, lacing his fingers through your hair comfortingly. “Right here.”

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( ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾ i really appreciate feedback !! even a quick lil comment means so much to me🦠

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🌱taglist: @svsoftie @haiskata @loverss-clubb @sleepygaybrough @wtermelonsmiles @marvelcwmic @tiny-tea @hxneyhanna

#.wanderlust #.stanley uris #.my writing #stanley uris fluff #stanley uris x reader #stan uris x reader #stan uris fluff #losers club #.eddie kaspbrak #.richie tozier #.ben hanscom #.mike hanlon #.beverly marsh #.bill denbrough

[littlemissvincentvega]

I'm going to ask for some Pink if you're okay with this hahah I would like you to use any of these - 20, 61, 69, 91

YAYYYY I LOVE MY BABY PINK

20: 

“That can’t be the only reason you’re still here. Are you finally going to admit you like me?”

Pink looks at you with that familiar expression of ‘I can’t handle people showing their emotions near me’. “W– uh… admit what, what was that?” he asks, scratching his head. He always does this. You’ll try to get him to talk about his feelings and he just plays dumb.

“Why won’t you just tell me how you feel, for Chrissake?” you cry, feeling yourself get more and more agitated; more and more tired of hearing the same old shit from him. Before he can even begin to respond, you stick your hand up, gesturing for him to just be quiet.

“Don’t fight, you guys.”

“Shit!” Pink swats Brown in the forehead a few times. For a moment, you had both forgotten he was even in the car with you.

“Ow! What the hell, man?” he protests, shielding himself. He had been leaning forward with his head between the two front seats. “I was just tryin’ to–”

“Keep out of it, asshole!”

That’s it. By now, you’ve had enough. A full day of bickering, and the guys throwing insults at each other was normal, but today you’re not in the mood. Without uttering a word, you swerve the car to the left, driving into a nearby field. “What the fuck was that for?” Pink splutters defensively.

Fighting the urge to slam your foot on the brakes, you slowly bring the car to a halt. You close your eyes for a moment, collecting yourself. “Pink, get out of the car. Brown, you stay here. I need to talk to this stupid motherfucker alone, ‘cause I’m really not in the fucking mood for all of these stupid arguments.”

Pink’s expression shifts to a softer one, though admittedly he looked a bit scared of you. It’s not often that you bark orders. Doing as you say, he gets out of the car and you do the same, gesturing for him to walk away from the vehicle with you. “Wh–”

“What’s your deal?” you demand, looking up at him.

He can’t help but think you still look beautiful even though you’re angry with him– the way the sunlight reflects off of your eyes… and that’s just one of the many distractions to him. “What do you mean?”

“Stop playing dumb, Steve,” you sigh, feeling tears well up. “You’ve been saying for months that you’re gonna quit working with me & the guys, but you’re still here. We both know why.”

He gulps. Pink sees you holding back tears, and he wants to do something, something to comfort you, he’s desperate but he just can’t bring himself to, and he hates himself for it. “Do we?”

“Why the fuck are you so scared to– to just tell me how you feel?”

“Because– because I,” he stutters, turning to see if Brown’s watching from the car (he’s got his palm directly in front of his eye, squinting at it for God knows what reason). “If I admit to you how much I feel for you, you might leave, you might reject me, you might– Christ, I don’t know, (Y/N)!”

“I’m not gonna reject you, for God’s sake,” you sigh, looking down.

“You might.”

“Well, you might reject me but I’m not being a pussy, Mr. Pussy.”

He manages a hint of a smile at that. Sighing, he takes your hand, fumbling with it in his own. “I’m scared of bein’ that vulnerable to someone. I already told you my damn name, that’s just– it’s preposterous, I mean I’m s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional. So it’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I’m scared’a fucking things up. I– I really do think the world of you.”

Hearing him spill out the words alone to you without so much as a breath is enough reassurance for you to know he’s telling the truth. He brings your hand up and kisses it softly, closing his eyes as he does so. “Can– can we get dinner tonight?” he asks, his hand trembling a little as he waits for your answer.

You smile. “Please.”

With that, you pull Pink into a big hug, squishing your face against his chest. Meanwhile, Brown’s watching from the car– he’s lost interest in whatever the fuck he was trying to achieve earlier. “Aww,” he mumbles to himself, watching the two of you hug. Maybe swerving off of the road and nearly giving him a heart attack was worth it. 

61: 

“Is that blood?” 

“…..No?”

“Oh, alright, what is it then? Fuckin’ maple syrup?” Pink scoffs, yanking off his jacket and wrapping it around your arm. “How the fuck’d you manage to do that, baby?” he continues, tying it tight. Working in what’s essentially the mafia, this sort of thing was unavoidable.

“I’m not saying.”

He blinks at you, frowning slightly. “Why not?”

“You’ll laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t. Pinky promise,” he says, giving you puppy eyes– that had been an inside joke since the first day you met. The first day you got assigned your aliases. Y’know, pinky promise? Mr. Pink? You get the gist.

You sit yourself upright against the warehouse wall (with his help). “Well, I was running from the cops and like, obviously there were, y’know, pedestrians. And one of them had this fucking golden retriever and, oh, baby, you should’a seen the thing, he was gorgeous!” you sigh, thinking back to it.

“And…?”

“Well, I managed to lose ‘em, ‘cause I’m basically The Flash,” you continue, sharing a witty smile with him, “and I took a few shortcuts. Made it here in a couple’a minutes and it was all fine and dandy, but I remembered the dog and tripped over that chair leg.” You point at the culprit, which is now lying on its side from where it had clattered over when it had met your ankle. Pink looks across as the overturned chair and shakes his head, smiling slightly at your clumsiness.

“I’m not done yet,” you say. “I don’t know who the fuck’s to blame, but there’s all broken glass scattered every-fucking-where, so when I fell it cut up my damn arm.”

“Oh, baby,” he hums, cradling you and rubbing your shoulder. True, Pink may not be the best at knowing how to comfort, but with you he’s a lot more relaxed (plus the number of times you’ve had a slight breakdown in front of him and given him pointers had really helped). “Eddie’s on his way with some medical asshole, don’t worry. You’ll be okay, they’ll sort ya out, hm?”

“I’m fine, you don’t need to baby me,” you giggle, though both of you know how much you love the fuss. He presses a reassuring kiss to your forehead, his facial hair brushing over it. You always like the way that feels– it’s comforting to you.

“Oh!” he gasps, suddenly remembering something. With a look of complete concentration on his face, Pink fumbles around in his pants pocket for something and whips out some chocolate. “You want a candy bar?”

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“Just in case, baby. I’m a fuckin’ professional.”

#reservoir dogs fanfic #reservoir dogs fluff #reservoir dogs x reader #mr pink x reader #mr pink fluff

[stansrichie]

Flowers

pairing: richie tozier x female reader

summary: you really love flowers. you give one to richie every single day at school, and richie surprises you with a gift he made out of the flowers.

warnings: none, besides richie’s trash mouth, an iCarly inspired quote, and the fact that this is my first ever imagine #rip

SEND REQUESTS PLZ <3

“I wonder which one he’d like today,” you mumbled to yourself. You were currently standing in front of the same flower patch you passed every day on the way to school. It had almost become a habit to stop and pick a flower to give to Richie at school.

You never really thought much about it. One day at school a while ago, you had given all of the losers a flower, but none of them kept up with it throughout the day besides Richie, surprisingly. After that, you decided you’d give him one for the rest of the week and see what happened. He always kept up with them so you decided to keep doing it, and after a while, it became a routine.

At first, everyone thought you had a crush on Richie, and while that may or may not be true, you couldn’t let them know that so you decided to tell them he was the only one to keep up with his and that’s why you kept giving them to him to avoid the embarrassment.

Yesterday you had given Richie a pink flower, so you decided to give him a big purple flower. You picked the flower and made your way to the school.

“Good morning sunshine,” Beverly said, smiling as you made your way to the group.

“Good morning, friends,” you said, smiling back at the red-headed girl in front of you.

“W-what color flower did you bring Richie today?” Bill asked, smiling sheepishly as you lifted the flower to show him.

“Purple. It’s really big, the purple ones are usually always small, so I figured I’d go ahead and get this one,” you said, grinning brightly.

“I can’t believe you still pick those… those… disgusting things. I mean, can you IMAGINE how much bacteria is on a single CELL of that fucking flower? It’s just-“ Eddie paused mid-sentence and rubbed his temples. “Don’t you remember John from our class last year?”

“No,” you replied, blinking slowly and wondering what the hell was wrong with this child.

“EXACTLY. You don’t remember him because he DIED, y/n, HE DIED. He picked a flower, didn’t wash his hands, ate a sandwich, and DIED because there was so much bacteria in his throat.”

“I thought John moved to Texas after his parents divorced,” Mike said, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie blinked. “Well you thought fucking wrong, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” Soon, Mike, Stan, Eddie and Bill were all four arguing over what they thought had happened to the completely random kid from last year’s math class.

You shook your head as you and Beverly listened to the boys argue.

“I’m pretty sure you’re all dumbasses because I saw John at the arcade two fucking days ago.” You didn’t even have to turn around to know where the voice had come from.

“Shut the fuck up Richie,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

Richie let his bike fall to the ground by the bike rack and walked over to stand next to you. You stuck out your hand and placed the purple flower in his palm.

Richie examined the flower. “Wow, this flower is fucking huge. Almost as huge as m-“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan said, already annoyed by Richie’s presence, even though he secretly loved Richie to death.

Richie smirked and turned to you. “Thanks for the flower, small-fry.”

“I’m not that short, asshole. You’re barely taller than I am,” You mumbled, fake pouting at his short joke.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m a tenth of a centimeter taller than you are, if there’s anyway I can make a joke about your height, I’m gonna do it,” he replied, laughing at his own comment.

“We should probably get to class, waiting for Richie has already made us a few minutes later than usual,” Ben said, checking the time on his watch.

“Yeah, yeah, blame the trashmouth. One day you motherfuckers are gonna regret treating me this way. YOU’LL RUE THIS DAY! RUE IT!” Richie screamed, throwing his fists into the air dramatically.

You laughed at Richie as the rest of the group began to walk into the school, shaking their heads as they tried to get as far away from Richie as possible.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Richie tuck the flower you had given him into the pocket of his hawaiian shirt and smiled to yourself, looking down at the ground to keep him from seeing that the small gesture had made your heart flip.

All of you walked into the school and told each other bye as you all made your way to your separate classes. None of the losers were in your first class for the day, sadly. You waved everyone goodbye, and just as you had turned on your heel to walk away, you felt a hand grab you by the wrist.

“H-hey, what are you doing later on today?” Richie asked as he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand, visibly nervous.

“I’m sure I’ll have homework to do, but other than that, nothing,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. You couldn’t understand why you felt just as nervous as he looked.

“Oh, okay, I mean, I was just gonna come by your house for a few minutes if that’s okay. I-i’m learning some stupid shit in math that I don’t really understand. Can you help me out, maybe?” He asked.

You knew he was lying. Not only because of how nervous he seemed, but also because Richie was insanely smart. Even though he was a bit of a slacker and never paid attention in class, he still made straight A’s somehow.

“Sure, I’ll see you after school then,” You said, giving him a small smile.

Your smile had always been his weakness. He loved your smile “more than any fucking thing on this planet,” which he had told Eddie one time at the quarry when you couldn’t hear them talking. Eddie teased Richie all day but never once broke his promise not to tell you what Richie had said. If you were to ever find out, Richie wanted to be the one to tell you. He loved your smile, but don’t even get him started on your laugh. Richie tried to get you to laugh every single chance he got, and when you did, you made him feel like the funniest person on the planet.

“Y-yeah, after school, that’s when we’ll see each other…yeah, cool,” Richie said, stumbling on his words.

”Are you okay?” You asked, slightly giggling out of concern and because of the fact that he sounded awfully similar to Bill right now, no offense to him of course, but we’re just facing the facts right now.

“No, I’m a fucking loser, I don’t know why the hell I’m talking like an idiot. I’ll see you after school, y/n,” he said, shaking his head as he turned the opposite way and began walking to his class.

You began walking to your class as well, but not before you heard Richie mumbling to himself as his figure disappeared.

“Cool? COOL? The fuck is wrong with me.”

You also heard a trashcan being kicked over as you walked away.

After school, you had gone straight home and finished your homework. You weren’t sure what Richie wanted to talk to you about, but you knew it wasn’t homework.

Instead of stressing about all the many things that were wrong with Richie Tozier. Even though there were probably more things than you could count, there was an equal number of things that were right about him.

You decided to stress eat a piece of cake your mom left you as an afternoon snack, and let your mind drift off to everything you loved about Richie. His hilarious, and utterly vulgar,  comments, that made you laugh all the time. The freckles that accentuated his face like stars. His crazy hawaiian shirts that made you laugh because they make a flapping noise when he rides his bike.

Just as you finished the cake, you heard a knock at the door. You slide over to the door since you have on socks, and almost died by tripping by the way and open the door for him.

“Hey Richie,” you say, stepping aside so he can come in.

“Hi,” he said, stepping inside, being incredibly quiet, which is NOT common for the trashmouth.

You shut the door and turned to him as you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest. You waited for him to say something, but he said absolutely nothing as the two of you stood in your kitchen.

“So… That math homework?” you asked, deciding to mess with him a little bit.

“Oh, yeah, I figured it out,” he said, rocking back and forth on his toes and looking around the room.

“Alright, what’s going on. First, you were stuttering and acting weird in the hallway, now you’re being really quiet. Is something wrong?” you asked, genuinely concerned considering all of you losers knew Richie’s home situation.

“Something wrong? With me? Richie Tozier? The almighty leader of everything that is great an—“

“Richie.”

Richie sighed and reached for something in his bag. He pulled out a medium sized box that had been poorly wrapped in notebook paper with the words “please like this gift” written all over it and handed it to you.

You chuckled slightly at the words and opened the box. Inside of the box was a crown made of one flower from each week that you had given him. Richie had painted over each flower that he decided he would add to the crown at the end of each week with gel and acrylic paint to preserve them, and after a while, he had finally finished the crown.

Richie took the crown from the box as you stared at it in awe. It was honestly the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life and you absolutely loved it.

“Here,” Richie whispered close to your face as he placed the crown on top of your head. He stepped back and took in your entire presence.

You couldn’t even speak. For once in your life, you were truly speechless. Never in a million years would you have believed he’d do something like this for you, but at the same time, you could believe it because Richie loved every single one of you losers.

“Richie, I- thank you so so much, oh my god.” You walked over to Richie and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He put his arms around your waist as you hid your face in his neck to keep from crying at how kind this was.

“You’re welcome, y/n.” You could practically hear him smiling as he said that. He had been so nervous about giving you the crown in case you didn’t like it, but now he knew you loved it, and couldn’t feel any better.

You pulled away slightly and ran your fingers along the crown on your head. Shaking your head, you looked at him, dumbfounded.

“Why did you make this? Don’t get me wrong, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, but why?” you asked.

“I know you love flowers and ever since that first time you gave me a flower every day for a week, I decided I’d make the crown. I know it isn’t perfect but Mike and Stan gave me advice on how to fix it. I tried to ask Eddie but he bitched about how I’m not properly disinfecting the flowers first so I told him to fuck off instead,” he shrugged. “I really hope you like them. I almost didn’t think you could look any more perfect, but here you are, defying the laws of beauty and shit, as usual.”

Your cheeks heated up as you smiled brightly at his comment. “I don’t wanna sound like every airhead in every single romance movie, but did you mean that? You think I look perfect?” A part of you wanted to make a joke because you’d never seen this side of Richie, but you wouldn’t DARE ruin this moment. Nuh uh. Not a chance.

“Of course I do. We all do. I mean, do you see yourself? I’ve had to flick Stan in the throat and pinch Eddie’s arm a few times for staring at you too long.” He said.

“I think Stan is too busy staring at Mike to notice me,” you said, smiling. You walk over to Richie and hug him one last time. “Thank you, Richie, really. This means the world.”

You place a small kiss on his cheek and his face instantly goes red. Despite the heat coming from his face, his smile is as bright as the sun. Little did you know this was only the beginning.

#it #it imagine #it x reader #it movie imagine #richie #tozier #ben hascom #mike hanlon #stan uris #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #richie tozier #richie x reader #it cast #losers club imagine #losers club #it cast imagine #bill denbrough imagine #stan uris imagine #beverly marsh imagine #mike hanlon imagine #ben hascom imagine #eddie kaspbrak imagine #drabble #imagines #imagine #x reader #richie tozier imagine #stansrichieimagine

[aerynwrites]

Promise

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader

Summary/Prompt: based on two prompts the first one is by @the-modern-typewriter and another one by a blog I cannot remember but if anyone knows please let me be aware so I can credit them. (Prompts are Bolded).

Warnings: cursing, blood, and angst

Authors Note: this is based off pure memory so I apologize for any inconsistencies, I also tweaked things a bit…any who, I hope you enjoy as always!

You’ve made many stupid decisions in your short life. You jumped from the roof of your house when you were little to see if you could fly. You couldn’t. then there was that time that you tried to ice skate on the local pond when the ice was clearly too thin. The list could go on, but nothing tops the list of stupid things you’ve done, like this one.

“This is such a stupid idea Bill.” You hissed as you entered the Neibolt house with your brother and your two friends, Eddie and Richie.

“W-we h-have to f-find o-out w-w-where I-IT l-lives.” Bill spluttered.

You looked to Eddie, your boyfriend of a year, to see him looking disgustingly at his surroundings. You grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze, which he gladly returned. You were so absorbed with making sure Eddie was okay you didn’t notice Richie had wandered off.

“It says I’m missing!” he shrieked, “Am I fucking missing?” he exclaimed looking desperately from the missing poster in his hand to Bill who was trying to calm him down.

“It’s n-not r-real!” Bill said slowly but surely calming the boy down.

They soon made your way back over to where you and Eddie were still standing and the four of you made your way cautiously upstairs. You all turned into a hallway only to freeze when you saw Betty Ripsome laying on the floor sobbing and calling for help in a room down the hall. You let Eddies hand slip from yours as you, Bill, Richie and Eddie rushed forward to help, only for her body to be dragged back into the room. you gasped and rushed forward into the room and looked around bewildered.

She wasn’t there.

You look back to your friends who were standing outside the room staring at you expectantly.

“Wh-where I-is s-s-she?” Bill questioned.

“I-I don’t know, she isn’t here.” You said confused.

You started walking towards the door when it started to swing shut. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. Eddie, Bill and Richie all lunged for the door, just as you did but it slammed shut. You quickly grabbed the knob and tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge.

“Guys!” you yelled, “Open the door!”

Then the lights went out and you started beating on the door frantically.

“Guys open the door! I can’t see, it’s so dark!” you felt tears seep out of your eyes as your banging got harder and harder no doubt bruising your hand.

Suddenly you heard a familiar laugh.

You stopped banging on the door and turned around to face the room once more.

“(Y/N)! We’re gonna get you out hang on!” you heard Richie yell faintly.

But you were too focused on figuring out where the laugh came from. Then suddenly a small light came on, just enough to illuminate the figure in the middle of the room.

It was Eddie.

“Eds?” you whispered.

The Eddie in the middle of the room rolled his eyes, “Don’t call me that stupid nickname.” He spat.

You shook your head confused, he loved your nickname for him.

“Don’t look so surprised, (Y/N). Did you really think I actually cared about you?” he smirked.

You felt tears fall down your cheeks at his statement. “Of course, Eddie, you care about me and I care about you.” You responded weakly.

This was so real, why would Eddie say that too you?

“Quit lying to yourself. I never cared about and I never will. You’re nothing to me, I can do so much better than you.”

You shook your head and turned back to the door trying to open it again. You couldn’t be here anymore.

“Shut up! You don’t mean that!” you sobbed.

He continued to throw insult after insult, each word breaking you apart further and further.

“Help! Make it stop! Billy make it stop! Please!” You screamed, begging your friends to help you.

“Get the fucking door open!” you heard Eddie yell.

This confused you even further, one Eddie was throwing insults while the other was trying to save you.

Next thing you know the door wings open throwing you off balance and causing you to stumble backwards.

Right into the hole that opened up in the middle floor behind you.

The Eddie in the room was gone, and all you saw was your three friends reach for you as you fell. you fell down to the ground floor and right onto the kitchen table, smashing it in the process. You felt a sharp pain in your shoulder as a piece of splintered wood punctured your skin. You continued to sob as your brain tried to process everything going on, but everything seemed to top as you saw the fridge door creak open. Revealing the horrifying clown you’ve all been hunting.

You let out a blood curdling scream as the monster starts advancing towards you, mocking your cries and your sobs the entire way. The clown wrapped a disgusting hand around your chin as you started to sob.

“Eddie!” you called desperately.

“Eddie, oh Eddie, Eddie!” pennywise mocked, “He doesn’t care, remember? He can do so much better.”

You shook your head as your sobbing got louder.

The clown smirked, he was breaking you, “Oh yes (Y/N), Eddie doesn’t care about you, he never did.”

The group of boys turned the corner of the kitchen just as Pennywise finished his torment, “Eddie will leave you, and find someone sooooo much better!” he bellowed, squeezing your chin harder, no doubt leaving a mark.

“(Y/N), I-it’s n-not r-real!” bill called.

Pennywise snapped his head in Bills direction, “Am I not real enough for you Billy? It was real enough for Georgie!” he snarled viciously.

You thought it was over, you thought you were going to die. Until Beverly rushed in stabbing a fence post through the clown’s head.

Pennywise retreated, but not until he left Ben with a nasty gash. All the losers rushed to you and fretted over you and what just happened, but you zoned it all out. You only came to when you felt someone rip the wood from your shoulder.

“Holy shit!” you yelled clutching your now bleeding shoulder.

You saw Mike rip a strip of his shirt off and secure it around your shoulder as a sort of makeshift bandage. Bill helped you to your feet and helped you get outside, the rest of the losers following not far behind. Once you got to the street an argument soon broke out.

“I s-saw w-where IT l-lives. W-we k-know where t-to f-find it.” Bill stuttered.

“Are you fucking insane?” Eddie yelled.

“Yeah! Look at this motherfucker, he’s leaking hamburger helper!” Richie exclaimed, motioning to ben’s injury.

“Bill’s right.” You suddenly said, you voice hoarse from screaming, “Bill’s right, we need to find IT and get rid of him, once and for all.”

Richie shook his head, “No fucking way.”

“Richie’s right. It’s summer! We’re kids, we should be having fun.” Stan stated.

Eddie shook his head, “I’m sorry Bill, but I’m with them on this one. There’s no fucking way I’m hunting down that clown.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, your fear was coming true.

“Your taking their side?” you asked, astonished that the boy your dating would pick their side over yours.

“This isn’t about sides- “

“Then what is it about?” you asked.

Eddie seemed to snap at your comment.

“-YOU COULD HAVE DIED!” In the aftermath of the shout, the silence seemed deafening. Eddie took a step closer, clutching your good shoulder. 

“You could have died,” softer. “I nearly lost you. If you want to make this about sides, I’m on whatever side keeps you alive. Can’t you see that?” he pleaded.

You shook your head, chuckling sadly. “The clown was right.” you said feeling tears spring up again.

You stepped away from Eddie and glared at him.

“What? What does that mean?” Eddie askes worried.

“Nothing.” You spat, “Let’s go Bill. They aren’t going to help us.”

Bill looked at you confused but followed you nonetheless. He hopped in his bike, you sitting behind him, and pedaled off. Leaving your friends looking after you.

A few nights later, you awoke from yet another nightmare and glanced at your clock.

2:15 in the morning.

You sighed as you threw your covers off and cautiously walked downstairs to the telephone. You hesitated slightly before dialing the number you knew so well. It rang several times, making you think he might not pick up, until you heard the all familiar click, followed by his groggy voice.

“Hello.” He mumbled.

You paused before speaking, “Eds?” you whispered.

“(Y/N)?” he asked perking up immediately at the sound of your voice.

“Sorry for calling so late.” You paused, “I…I had a nightmare.” You admitted.

It was silent for a while, you thought he might’ve hung up.

“What was it about.”

“Neibolt.” You said simply.

You still hadn’t talked to anyone about what you saw. How betrayed and scared you felt after it all.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

You sighed before whispering, “You.”

“Me?” he asked incredulously.

How could you be scared of him? He thought. You spoke before he could voice his thoughts.

“I’m scared that one day you’ll wake up and look in the mirror and see yourself as I see you. You’ll realize just how amazing and wonderful you are and that you deserve better than me…”

You paused choking down a sob, “I’m terrified that you’ll leave.” Your voice cracked on the last word, silence hanging in the air at your revelation.

“(Y/N)…” Eddie sighed, “you don’t ever need to be afraid of me. I love you too much to ever leave. I will never leave you.” He stated seriously.

You were silent, slightly doubting his words.

“Promise?” you asked quietly.

“Promise.”

#eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak imagine #bill denbrough #richie tozier #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #stanly uris #beverly marsh #the losers club #the losers club imagine #the losers club x reader #it x reader #it imagine #it movie 2017 #it 2017

[a-demon-within]

Full name

Ichiro Kazue

Preferred name/nickname

(For Ichiro) - Ichiro is just fine.

(For Kazue) - “that asshole”, “dick”, “jerk”, anything negative and directed towards him specifically.

Generally referred to as

(Ichiro) “Ichi”.

(Kazue) “Kaz”

Appearance.

FACECLAIM: I only have a faceclaim for Ichiro for now, and I doubt there’s an accurate looking bunny monster from a movie that looks exactly like Kazue.

Anyway, Ichi’s faceclaim is Takeru Satoh, or Satoh Takeru. I don’t know which way his name goes because he’s one of Japan’s hottest young men.

SEX: Male HEIGHT: (Ichiro) 5′4                    (Kazue) Around 6′8 to maybe around 7′1 WEIGHT: (Ichiro) 130.5 lbs             (Kazue) 168.4 lbs BUILD: Both are pretty toned and slim. HAIR: (Ichiro) His black hair is usually about shoulder length long, for a male. He doesn’t really groom himself, so it’s usually messy. But it’s still nice to touch, because of the shampoo and conditioner he uses.

(Kazue) He is covered head to toe in black and brown fur, like that of a rex rabbit. It sticks outward instead of inward, creating a nice blankety feel through the fingers. Very warm, despite his crude personality! SKIN: (Ichiro) Has a beautiful shade of peach skin that’s very soft to the touch. Not as soft as Kaz’s fur, though!

(Kazue) Nobody knows what his skin is like under his fur. EYES: (Ichiro) He has almond-shaped hazel eyes. They have a curious, almost child-like glint about them...

(Kazue) Red, glowing eyes. The pupils are that of a lizard’s slits for pupils when he’s pissed. Any other time, however; they just look like glowing red rabbit eyes. MOUTH: (Ichiro) He has a model’s lips. Like, someone would pay to have his lips... And he has them naturally. His teeth show little damage, implying that he probably had braces growing up.

(Kazue) I don’t know much about a rabbit’s lips but the teeth? Buck teeth with herbivore incisors along the sides. NOSE: (Ichiro) He has a small, defined nose with little openings. It flares out bigger when he gets mad.

(Kazue) A cute flat, twitchy rabbit nose that you’d just LOVE to boop! ...He wouldn’t like that though. HANDS: (Ichiro) Small, delicate hands. They’re very soft to touch under his gloves.

(Kazue) Medium-sized fluffy hands that have sharp bunny claws at the fingertips. FEET: (Ichiro) He has tiny feet.

(Kazue) He has huge rabbit feet, they are the back ones I’m talking about that he stands on. SCARS: Neither of them have visible scars... OTHER FEATURES: (Kazue) He has huge ears that help keep him cool. OTHER NOTEABLE FEATURES: [Optional - anything you need to mention that isn’t covered by the above.]

Speech.

VOICECLAIM: (Ichiro) I’m just going to pick Takeru Satoh as his voiceclaim for now.

(Kazue) Eddy’s voice from Ed Ed’n Eddy uh Actually I feel like Meta Knight’s voice actor for Hoshi no Kaabii fits him better as a voiceclaim. ACCENT: (Ichiro) That classic Japanese accent, but it’s slowly being replaced by something more... Southern, since he’s living in New Mexico. VERBAL TICKS: Neither of them have those. Ichi used to stutter because he was still learning English, but he’s better now. LANGUAGE: (Ichiro) Japanese was his first language so he’s quite fluent. English is his second language, and he’s doing quite well with his fluency.

(Kazue) He can learn how to speak any language, just by listening to people around him. ARTICULATION: (Ichiro) He mixes basic with intermediate words as his dialect.

(Kazue) He likes using difficult words. EDUCATION: (Ichiro) He uses short words when it comes to English, but for Japanese he’s very educated.

(Kazue) I don’t know. Do demons go to school? LAUGHTER: (Ichiro) He has a cute giggle that lasts for a few seconds.

(Kazue) Depends on whether or not he wants to be creepy or diabolic. If he wants to be creepy, he will start giggling like a stereotypical yandere does. If he’s being diabolical however, he laughs hard. GRUMP: (Ichiro) Nope.

(Kazue) Of course he does when things don’t go his way. He is evil, after all. BREATHING: (Ichiro) He gasps when startled.

(Kazue) His breathing is pretty quiet. You know, like a rabbit’s.

Mannerisms.

FACE: Both of them are very expressive. HANDS: (Ichiro) He doesn’t really use his hands that much to explain anything.

(Kazue) Uh... He flips people off when angry? LEGS/FEET: I don’t think either of them do that. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: (Ichiro) He controls his emotions pretty well.

(Kazue) Yes. He is very moody. He tends to react violently. HABITS: Not that I know of. POSTURE: (Ichiro) He tends to slump. Sometimes he wakes up with back pain...

(Kazue) I don’t really know.... SITTING POSTURE: They both like to sit with their legs far apart. PERSONAL SPACE: Depends on who it is really.

Personal.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: They’re both introverts. OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: (Ichiro) Optimist.

(Ichiro) Pessismist. GENDER: They’re both male. SEXUALITY: (Ichiro) Gay.

(Kaz) Is uninterested so please stop asking. ROMANTIC: (Ichiro) Of course he’s romantic.

(Kazue) NOPE.KAZ BAD HABITS: (Ichiro) He stutters very lightly when anxious.

(Kazue) He’s a dick all the time. Isn’t that a bad habit? TRIGGERS: (Ichiro) Being called yellow or being discriminated against just because he’s Asian.

(Kazue) He IS the trigger.

The Past.

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Ichiro used to, up until when he moved to America. His father cut him off completely from calling his family once he left, and he hasn’t heard from them since.

ROMANCE: (Ichiro) Loyalty and cuddles is what he wants in a partner.

(Kazue) BAH! Who has time for romance?! ENEMIES: (Ichiro) Anyone whom is excessively rude to him all the time could be his enemy.

(Kazue) Everything is his enemy. RESPECT: They will still respect their enemies, up until when the situations BEG for the disrespect.

Interactions.

MINGLING: (Ichiro) He’s not that good at meeting new friends.

(Kazue) He does anything asshole-ish enough to make others hate him. TEMPER: (Ichiro) Very patient.

(Kazue) Impatient. But consistent. EMPATHY: (Ichiro) He is very empathetic.

(Kazue) Mmmmm... Not really... But then again he doesn’t give two fucks about anything except experimenting. ETIQUETTE: (Ichiro) He always does his best to stick to being polite to everyone.

(Kazue) He is always intentionally rude and mean. RESPONSIBILITY: Yes. SELF ESTEEM: They both stick up for themselves pretty well. CONFIDENCE: NOPE. HONESTY: They both do their best to speak the truth and nothing but the truth. PRAISE: (Ichiro) He loves compliments.

(Kazue) He shrugs the compliment off and asks for an insult instead because he finds insults more entertaining. FAILURES: [Is there anything they do that makes people annoyed or irritated?] CRITICISM: (Ichiro) He tries to improve whatever was being criticized.

(Kazue) He loves insults. He won’t bother to change either. An asshole. INSULTS: (Ichiro) Doesn’t take them very well. He will try to insult the person or people back.

(Kazue) He LOVES insults. FLIRTING: (Ichiro) He’s okay at flirting.

(Kaz) He does not flirt. He’s more interested in experimenting than wasting his time with stupid crap like that. ATTENTION SPAN: (Ichiro) Yes, he tries but he gets kind of bored easily.

(Kazue) He can focus for hours at a time, maybe even days at a time. Incredible. SITUATIONS: Neither of them are good at dealing with social situations, but Kaz is better at the manipulation game than Ichi is.

Life.

CAREER: They both have careers in the medical field at Teufort (unless otherwise specified). COMBAT SKILLS: (Ichiro) He is mediocre at hand-to-hand combat. He prefers healing and dropping Ubers on teammates who need it, really...

(Kazue) Really good at hand-to-hand/Bonesaw-to-face combat. DAILY LIFE: They both cope well when it comes to their daily lives. INDEPENDENCE: (Ichiro) Honestly if it weren’t for Kazue’s presence, Ichi would probably struggle a hell of a lot trying to be independent.

(Kazue) Very independent. COOKING: (Ichiro) He can cook a huge variety of Japanese dishes.

(Kazue) I’m not sure. CLEANING: They’re both very tidy. DRIVING: (Ichiro) Has a driver’s license for both Japan and America.

(Kazue) Doesn’t drive and doesn’t really understand vehicles. MARRIAGE: Neither have been married in the main verse yet. LAW: (Kazue) The list of crimes is too long to explain. COURT: (Kazue) Yes. He’s had inhumane human experimentation/modification charges against him with attempted murder charges. Such a long list. PRISON: (Ichiro) Yes, due to Kazue possessing him and doing horrible crimes. He woke up in the cell incredibly confused.

(Kazue) Of course. He’s ended up causing Ichi to go to jail countless times. His crimes were usually attempted murder, inhumane human modification charges, public indecency, lying under oath... The list is too long to recall right now. MEDICAL: They are both skilled at doctoring themselves. ILLNESS: (Ichiro) High functioning autism.

(Kazue) General Assholery Syndrome? WORRIES: Of course. PEACE: (Ichiro) He loves when it’s quiet.

(Kazue) He causes chaos intentionally, he enjoys being a loud motherfucker. PARTYING: Not really. HOBBIES: (Ichiro) He likes to drink green tea, cook traditional Japanese meals and watch the birds.

(Kazue) He loves to experiment. Most of the experiments are inhumane.

TAGGING...

@rubyscout @blue-haired-tales @angelic-marksman @ask-spudscout @nmscout

and whoever else wants to do this.

#character meme