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tenebraevesper · 2 days

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Knuckles (My Thoughts)

So, I have watched Knuckles, the 2024 show that basically came out yesterday, and before watching it, I have heard a lot of mixed opinions, ranging from ''the show is great'' to ''the show is awful, I hate it''. I had figured I might as well add my thoughts to the fray.

There will be spoilers in this review, so if you haven't watched the show, you had your warning.

So, for starters... this show is absolutely bonkers, and I definitely enjoyed watching it! X3

Honestly, I feel like there was a pretty good mix of comedy and action, and while there is some over the top acting, it didn't really take away from my enjoyment. It was a pretty wild ride from start to finish, and I kinda want to know what the writers were smoking during some scenes, because there were moments where things just get a bit surreal.

The show is also peppered with a lot of emotional moments, but I'll get to that bit in a moment. So far, I think people were right when they called this Sonic the Hedgehog, but it's Knuckles and Wade instead of Sonic and Tom.

The main crux of the show is that Knuckles has a bit of a crisis. He has found the Master Emerald, he has found friends in Sonic and Tails... and the only reason he's on Earth is because of that promise to them, as he clearly doesn't feel like he is at home... yet. So, how does he deal with that struggle?

Well, Pachacamac tells him what to do. Not gonna lie, even though I had expected him to appear, I was still baffled, because Pachacamac in this show is basically Oogway, Mufasa and Mr. Miyagi rolled into one. Clearly, Knuckles still holds great admiration for him, but let's remember that this was the guy who hunted down Sonic and Longclaw, leading to the mutual massacre. And now, he's a ghost that Knuckles can talk to, a lá Tikal. Kinda weird, but I think this is also the moment the show doesn't give a damn about being grounded.

Pachacamac suggests Knuckles that he should continue the legacy of the Echidnas, with Wade Whipple becoming his new protégé. Knuckles knows Wade is a loser, but he accepts, especially given Wade's determination to show everyone and their mother that he isn't some kind of loser and will become the bowling champion at the tournament in Reno, Nevada. So, he and Knuckles go on a road trip there while also being hunted down by two rogue G.U.N. agents, who want to deliver Knuckles to The Buyer, a guy who formerly worked for Robotnik and wants to use his quills to power his weapons.

Now, I will first start with the negative stuff that I noticed during the plot. Yes, people were correct, the second half of the show does focus a lot on Wade and his family rather than on Knuckles. Should it focus more on the titular character? Absolutely! Am I disappointed with what we got? Ehh... not really. Not gonna lie, I was actually quite invested in Wade's family drama.

Honestly, I can't really think of any complaint aside from the lack of Knuckles' screentime. Maybe it would've been better if the show focused on Knuckles bonding with Sonic and Tails, but it was always advertised as a Knuckles and Wade road trip, so I can't say I was lied to (not to mention, we had a whole movie of Sonic, Tails and Knuckles bonding). I suppose that another thing to add to it is the abrupt ending, although we do get a post-credits scene with Knuckles and Wade going to their next adventure, and the fact that they just don't address some plot points (like we don't know how the Wachowski family reacted to Knuckles' absence).

Well, that's my negative thoughts on the show, what's the positive stuff?

First of all, Knuckles himself - he is absolutely awesome every moment he gets! His character is on point, and he gets a lot of goofy, but also very wholesome moments. He also works very well with Wade, their personalities bouncing off each other and their interactions can turn from hilarious to absolutely heartwarming, especially when bonding over their respective lives.

I think that's a really strong point of this show - Knuckles helping Wade, in his own way, to overcome his insecurities, while just being his Echidna Warrior self. At the same time, he also learns about simple things in life, like ''what his jam is'' (to no one's surprise, it's the show's theme song, The Warrior by Scandal) or about Wade's family's traditions, as well as finally accepting that Earth is his home.

Also, Knuckles and Wade's mother beating up the bounty hunters was one of the best scenes in the show, hands down.

As I said previously, I also got quite interested in Wade's family life. I really like his mother, but his sister is a bitch, even if she stands by Wade's side. His father, not gonna lie, Pistol Pete gets the same amount of hate from me as Locke... Huh, maybe they did base Wade's father on one of the most hated characters from the Sonic Archie comics? After all, both abandoned their sons for a ''greater purpose''. In any case, it was satisfying seeing Wade beating his father in the bowling tournament and use what he learned during his journey.

Furthermore, this show is peppered with many lore bits, but the most jaw-dropping is this one:

So, if you guys don't know, this is Iblis, one of the Big Bosses of Sonic the Hedgehog (2006), alongside Mephiles, and basically the main reason Silver the Hedgehog and Blaze the Cat went back to the past to save the future, with Silver fighting Sonic due to the belief that he was responsible for the apocalyptic wasteland that is Silver's future. Both Iblis and Mephiles are halves of the sun god Solaris, who was defeated by Super Sonic, Super Shadow and Super Silver.

So, in this show, in this story told to us via a rock opera arranged by Pachacamac and starring an... unconscious (dead?) Wade? *shrugs* So, yeah, in this story, apparently, Knuckles defeated Iblis with the Flames of Disaster, aka beating him up with flaming fists.

Not gonna lie, that's metal.

Also, another lore bit that is dropped is how a different alien visited Reno for a bowling tournament in 1974, which tells me either two things:

One possibility is that it was Shadow who appeared at the bowling tournament, which is but funny and pretty awesome, and now I have an image of Shadow, Maria and Gerald Robotnik wearing those bowling T-shirts.

The other possibility is that Black Doom dropped after making his deal with Gerald and decided to sign up the Black Arms for a tournament, which is just plain hilarious.

So, yeah, overall, I liked the show. Is it the best? Not really, but it is something I'd rewatch if I want something fun and wholesome.

#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)

#Ten's Thoughts #knuckles the echidna #knuckles series #knuckles show #wade whipple #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #iblis sonic #pachacamac #Sonic Cyber Revolution Analyzer

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clannfearrunt · 2 years

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you are one of the few people i see who draw green kaiba and i love it i would commit atrocities for you 💚

Do It For Him *pictures of green kaiba plastered across the board*

idk even Toei vs DM or whatever aside the presence of a Green Era existing in Kaiba's life is very important to me. There is a fucking energy to it. I love him. Something even wronger than usual with this young man

#even when i draw him brown if u see. i still give him the yellow eyes (superior unhinged energy that is unattainable by blue)#if u ask Kaiba why he is/was green he'll say some shit abt establishing a brand presence n persona or whatever the hell #but hes just having a crisis. we know this. everyone knows this #spottedderp573 #if i didnt accidentally have thots abt character development and visuals and shit i would have kept him green #throughout the timeline #Con goes to the shadow realm

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aviolettrose · 1 month

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I feel like, if Jason was ever de-aged, Bruce wouldn't leave his side and be the best dad ever for him (he sees it as a second chance)

#jason todd #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #the batkids would definitely be jealous #tf you mean Bruce can be a good dad?!#bruce: of course we can spend time together son😊🥰#dick: see that's why i hated to visit back then #tim: I think I never saw bruce smiling like that when I was Robin #Damian: tt #also Damian: does father even love me? *identity crisis*#Barbara: yeah seems about right #alfred being Jason's favorite makes bruce jealous #Bruce: Heeeeeey Alfie. Wanna visit Great Britain? You know you deserve it #alfred: only if master todd comes with me #bruce: fuuu #jason: vacation? in Great Britain? Isn't it too expensive?#Bruce: I'll buy you anything you want even if it makes me poor because its gonna be worth it to see you smile #that's how Jason alfred and bruce went to london without the others #when jason is older again he wonders how it is possible that he has those memories of being young but having more siblings #bruce: idk what you mean? it was always just you and dick back then.#jason: then how come i have a memory where damian tries to kill because Alfred the cat slept in my room instead of his?!#bruce: idk bad dream?#meanwhile Alfred shows everyone the cute pictures he took of jason in London #duke is baby jays favorite

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ciderjacks · 4 days

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OK. QUESTION FOR GAY PEOPLE ONLY. AND BY GAY I MEAN HOMOSEXUAL NOT JUST GENERAL QUEER AS IN STRICTLY ONLY ATTRACTED TO THE SAME SEX.

I realized recently the difference between finding someone attractive and personally being attracted to them I need to know if this confusion has led other gay people to sexuality crisis.

#gay #lesbian #polls #Like there are certain Very Few famous men that like. I definitely consider them attractive. I’m just not attracted to them.#I hypothesize that this sort of crisis is more common with lesbians #Gay men get to act flirty with women all the time and it’s fine and normal everyone knows he’s not actually personally attracted to her #He just finds her attractive #Lesbians…we don’t get to do that as much. You mention a man is attractive once and suddenly it’s all “hmm so ur bisexual”#But goddammit. Sometimes men are just attractive. I have eyes. Doesn’t mean I’m into them personally but I can appreciate it!

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 months

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The Billions Showrunners Go To See Bway Bmc like lgw "the problem has always been me" and they look at each other approvingly and nod like now he's getting it :) and then the squip's deactivated and everyone's embracing the realities of being a person and rejecting the idea there can be, should be, and is a set of standards to meet to get everything you want and preclude yourself from being mistreated and they're like nooo what a powerful tragedy :(

#then the nyt critic listens in on their conversation like Jot That Down Jot That Down ''jeremy deserved to stay In Crisis & bullied''#it'll be a lingering irritation with billions just like w/any other work that is supposed to earnestly engage w/anything But Then #is ultimately / reverts to being about Vibes instead when it was in fact not meant to be a work ultimately about vibes #like good news i in turn earnestly engaged with your work. that's why it's on sight #winston billions #bmc #was gonna say obviously don't know if anyone from billions went to bmc but No....daniel k isaac confirmedly did lol iconique #can't fathom the thoughts the showrunners would really have lmao #just like i have to assume their thoughts abt will as jared was the typical/superficial ''wow guy we find bothersome rude & undeserving!''#maybe it wasn't maybe it wasn't....but they did only give him a would've been one time bit part whose job was to be so rude & undeserving #like jk save for tossing in an inadvertent? misgendering of taylor for good measure quant kid 2 was wholly in the right #having him be an object to be crumpled up & thrown into the trash was Their intended bookend. but really it's that wags should die #and that winnie n tay was everything. the way quant kid 2 wasn't meant to be a character in 3x03 #winston was barely handled as a preexisting character in 7x03 besides the [object to be crushed] & [computers?] angles #Except the flickers of specific interaction w/taylor; totaling like 3s overall fr; were what was most like ''yeah he's someone specific''#anyway again ''you were purporting to make something about anything but ran over that w/your Vibes Based approach in the end'' annoyance #couldn't lose in s4....yearning to be able to film winston more; which would've been him being [winston: __ everyone: get his ass]#but b/c he wasn't very available winston is presumed locked in a supply closet somewhere not invited to meetings or gatherings. works too #k&l surprised at ppl not picking up on an intended Literal Death Exception to think not Everything the main epic winner does is epic win #like well yeah sure but your show was then in fact about how all that really matters in the end was being in the superior Winner class #whereupon it's then not about your actions & their consequences so much as it's about your feelings & intentions #and it's not so much about That (relevant specifics expire 6 eps later or by the end of the season) as it is abt being that Winner #then thinking losers Could get organic aba (abuse forcing compliance) like well yeah of course!#the classic excuse about a hypothetical Conversion into winnerdom/correctness to uno reverse blame/responsibility #anyways like i said it's on sight; a testiment to that attentive & earnest enough engagement w/your work out here lmao #everything Else abt billions making it more & more incredible they had Taylor in the midst of it all #but by in fact going ''this character is supposed to Contrast w/usual 'winner' traits'' you Do disrupt that Vibes Based approach #and ofc can't consider some kind of ''oh nooo they've become fr thee Typical winner'' b/c failed step one they stay nonbinary #casting winston just as serendipitously more than billions deserved or could handle #will roland acting it tf up right away even w/quant kid 2 in a way the writing would never step up to lmfao. beautiful

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rubys-domain · 7 months

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holy jesus christ...

fontaine's act 4 is by far the most stressful act of any archon quest ever

#⇢₊˚⊹ 🩷∥ruby∥yo，ide yo !!#genshin spoilers #a big part of it was everything with lyney lynette and freminet #seeing lyney so beside himself with worry was already intense #i don't think i needed to literally relive what happened to freminet seconds before drowning to death #that genuinely made me extremely uncomfortable. i mean it drove home the direness of the situation. but still.......#but even after things wrapped up i still didn't feel at ease #everyone seemed way too relaxed #like... your whole nation LITERALLY just almost got wiped out. how do you have it in you to even think about having a tea party?????#(this isn't meant to be a dig at lynette btw. it's just the most obvious example i could think of)#and there's still so many unanswered questions #what's the deal with furina，really? could it be possible that she's not actually a god like arlecchino suggested?#“her” secret? why would the former hydro archon be keeping a secret like that? a literal ticking time bomb like the primordial sea?#where did the primordial sea come from，anyway? did egeria create it? and if so，WHY?#(unlikely imo... but not totally impossible either)#plus furina's mention of some kind of plan to deal with the crisis that we still know nothing about #and we still don't know what the hell happened to childe #did he fall into the abyss again or smth?#it's just a lot #they really nailed making me feel that the stakes are sky-high #i should've realized that since this wasn't going to be the last act，that there's no way things would go to shit for real yet #i don't know if i can say that i “enjoyed” it. it sure as hell left an impression though #i still kind of haven't fully calmed down yet #i'm probably gonna need a week or something before i can relive this on my main account #oh，i'm also a bit impressed that there was zero combat in the whole two acts #with there being a literal fighting ring and the fortress being a mek factory，i would've expcted some amount of fighting #i mean that works great for me since that means i can play through them while eating lunch or smth #and not have my meal be interrupted by combat #i feel like most of the online community probably wouldn't like that though #good thing i'm not most of the online community

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carcinized · 8 months

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how the fuck do allo people live like this

#<- has been in love with a guy for nearly a year and on sunday wanted to kiss him for the first time #AND HE DOESNT KNOW BTW. so im just sitting there while he talks having a crisis like SHIT IVE NEVER WANTED TO KISS SOMEONE BEFORE #kicking myself i should have said smth. bc today it happened again but we were not safely alone we were in a class with an audience 💀#IVE HAD LIKE 2 CRUSHES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE YOU GUYS. and this one is making me SUFFER . i need to confess 😭 everyone says he likes me back...#head in hands u guys.#tobin talks

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flowerflamestars · 1 year

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Robin fic snippet

Elle stopped three steps into the open space, racing heart briefly clenched with hope. There was light she hadn’t left on. A green glow, from the obscenely expensive coffee apparatus that had turned up on her doorstep courtesy of Bruce. And then she saw the Gucci sneaker, one long slender leg sticking out from beneath her kitchen counter. “What step of breaking in,” Elle asked, joining him on the floor, “Is making yourself coffee?” Tim, mug resting on his sternum, folded against the island in a sprawl, opened bleary eyes. Took in Elle’s sleek jumpsuit, the wine bottle in her hand, flowers clinging crushed to her favorite platform boots. “Why’re you back?” Elle huffed. “Why are you here?” His eyes fell shut again. “My ex-girlfriends are unionizing.” Elle, who’d reached over her head to navigate the nearest drawer, feeling for a corkscrew, stopped. Gave up and rose, fishing it out before bumping the whole mess closed again with her hip. The kitchen only looked organized- she was just barely moved in. Loud, the noise of the cork seemed to echo, coffee scent immediately overwhelmed by deep, rich pomegranate. “You want to repeat that?” Elle said, sliding back down. Tim groaned. “Tam- you met Tam?” Elle nodded- the severe, lovely woman had complimented her lipstick. “Tam and Cassie are engaged.” Elle took a sip from the bottle, briefly transported to a world of sugar and heat, like she could taste the ocean breeze. She blinked. Coughed. Fought genuine delight to pay attention to conversation. “Soulmates?” His next groan was one of vague agreement. By her third drink, then entire world felt gloriously red. Sun-soaked. Light on closed eyelids, gold edges to ruby relaxation. This was how Llewellyn’s bond to Dick manifested- it would have been easy to guess touch, seeing either of them together, but color was wonder. Freefall. It made all the sense in the world. “Hitting the Themysciran wine a little hard?” “Tim.” Her tone made him actually look again, guilt already probably detectible. “Yeah?” “If I ask you something, can it stay between us?” Tim’s own smile seemed to surprise him, edged in a wince. “For a favor.” At her face, he added, just a little gleeful. “Let me off easy last time. You’re weirdly good natured, you know, considering who”- Elle threw the corkscrew at his face.

#Tim you nightmare boy who I love #a Mess #Dick: I have a home! a soulmate! it is time for a PARTY WITH EVERYONE I KNOW AND LOVE-#Tim in the middle of his gremlin Era: I'm sorry?#hiding with the coats? in the bathroom?#HAH #He's hiding a whole building away #Elle is....also hiding #but mostly because she's having a hot amazons who want to chat about her soulmate crisis #just because there was a chart involved to explain all the Teen Titans Drama #she was not actually prepared for This #yes all of Tim's ex's are now lesbians #YES KON'S ONE EX IS ALSO A LESBIAN #fake ex? still also queer now #migration patterns of turdidae #I need everyone to know we are maximizing both chaos and angst

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judesstfrancis · 2 years

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I have an idea for a fic I really wanna write but it is so so so stupid and it's just an excuse for me to make a joke that literally only I will understand. it's just an inside joke between me and myself that no one will think is funny but I wanna write it so bad

#like I'm gonna do it. probably #I just think it would be funny if there was like a situation where steve and robin were talking at like work or something #and robin was having a whole I'm Gay And Yearning crisis u know like we do sometimes #and like they thought they were alone right but someone else from the crew comes in and is like 'wait who's gay'#(not maliciously I'm not that kind of bitch they're just like oh ?)#and like instinctively steve just goes 'oh me. I am' bc like. he's not gonna do an accidental outing and that was the first idea he had #and it's all chill they're like that's what's up man congrats love who u love etc etc #but robin later is like steve wtf u can't just do that now everyone thinks you're gay #and steve is like 'okay and so what they're gonna think I kiss boys? I don't' (bc he hasn't had his queer journey yet I'm getting there)#enter eddie obv. we know where this is going #they hang out a lot and little by little steve starts unraveling Things about himself. and he's like 'oh shit. maybe I do kiss boys'#idk I just think it would be really funny #yeah okay I'm definitely gonna write it actually I'm having visions I can see it coming together #text post #gabby writes #actuallymaybe.doc

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zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta · 6 months

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woke up to fifty million people trying to get a hold of me for various reasons... I have work trying to call me in because nobody else is responding but my recently-pregnant coworker is feeling sick again and there's so many tasks to do and they're desperate, 5 different messenger chats and family members trying to finalise holiday plans but I'm so burnt out with this fucking holiday that I don't even want to think about it anymore, my physiotherapist emailing to ask if I'm ok bc I haven't done any of my exercises since last week when I left a note at 3am about being kept awake with the worst hip pain I've had in months................ I just want to be left alone right now holy shit why is everyone asking everything of me all at once, this is the last proper day I'm going to get to spend with james before the holiday and now I'm in guilt mode and can't settle down because everything is time-sensitive and I can't put off responding to half of this any more than I already have,,, ,,

#everyone just go away #just for today #I've been almost in tears the whole morning I'm just not equipped to handle any of this right now #on one hand I feel terrible for my coworker the most because I know how horrible it is to be unwell at work with no help coming #but on the other whyt he fuck did she get pregnant right before christmas what the actual fuck I have no sympathy #''it was kind of planned'' WHY NOW THOUGH you JUST went full time and you had a rental crisis two months ago how the FUCK-#-are you equipped for a baby...... it's our problem too because we needed you FT so we could cover hours bc we're understaffed-#-and STILL without a manager and now you're gonna need all this time off for sickness and maternity and it will all fall back on me-#-to cover you because it always does how the fuck do we have 14 staff and NOBODY ELSE is ever free to help out #fuck all of you I'm taking today for my mental health because right now it's in the gutter #negative #kate being trash

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artbyblastweave · 1 year

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I was raised by scientifically conscientious parents, real big on logic and empiricism and all that jazz, and I really took it to heart. So when I first heard about the birthday candle wishes thing, I did what came naturally. I tried to test it empirically. I invited this kid in my first grade class who was kind of a dick, called me names, tripped me when the teachers weren’t looking, penny-ante schoolyard bully shit. And when they brought the cake out, they told me to close my eyes and make a wish, and I did, and when I opened my eyes the kid hadn’t exploded. Not even a little. At this point I was kind of tempted to write it off, but even then I had an eye towards the replicability crisis, and I knew one failure wasn’t publishable. So next year I invited the same kid, wished again, he didn’t explode that year, either. Or the year after that. Or the year after that. I mean I really sacrificed for this project. My parents had a hard capacity of five guests per party, and every year he took a slot that could have gone to a person who wouldn’t declare open season on the other three guests. And even though I don’t even like pottery, I kept asking to have the parties at the DIY pottery place because that was the only non-suspicious way to have get everyone in smocks and googles when they brought out the cake. But one of the really insidious things I had to deal with was the sense of, I dunno, moral corrosion. Because, you invite a guy you don’t even like to a birthday party six years running with ulterior motives, humoring him, making him think you consistently want him around... you’re leading the guy on! And moreover I know what it’s like to be on the other side of that, I used to get invited to birthday parties because people wanted to copy my notes. And it’s shitty to wake up one morning and realize you’ve become a bad guy in the same creeping way, and that just must be how that happens. I mean right up until the guy spontaneously combusted at the cake-cutting at my cousin’s birthday party in 2013, I genuinely think he thought we were friends. All to say that this is why research ethics courses are, like, super foundational. Can’t cut corners on that!

#shitpost #my writing #thoughts #my fiction

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sp0o0kylights · 2 months

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"Valentines Day is a capitalistic scam made to sell chocolate and flowers!" Eddie Munson bellowed, leaping to the top of a cafeteria table not even ten minutes into lunch.

"Do you think he was born like this, or just dropped on his head as a baby?" Heather asked, rolling her eyes as the super senior began waving his arms around, getting way too into his annual “anti-valentines day” rant.

Steve, who'd tuned out the dramatics in favor of trying to figure out how he could ditch school, only heard her because she’d begun running her foot up his leg.

Directly in front of Patrick.

As if half the school didn’t know he planned on asking her out after school.

Long over being a part of these kinds of games, Steve kicked out, forcing Heather’s leg off his.

He did it harder than he intended and immediately winced, as if he hadn’t meant to do it at all. Aimed a sad little look at her, softening his eyes in the way he knew ladies loved while murmuring a quiet "sorry.”

A pudding cup was offered as an additional apology--which Heather, thankfully, accepted.

Crisis averted, Steve used the movement of handing the cup over to get his legs well out of Heather's range. He had other things to think about today, and getting drawn into whatever drama Heather was trying to brew wasn’t on the list.

Particularly given the basketball team as a unit had started snubbing him out.

"Newsflash ladies! Your man isn't taking you to some shitty restaurant because he loves you, he's doing it because he hopes you'll give it to him in your car!" Munson continued, voice growing impossibly louder.

A crude gesture followed, involving hip thrusts and hand jabs.

Several of the cheerleaders shot him disgusted looks as he did it.

"Definitely dropped on his head." Carol said, glaring at Munson as his little group of freaks and geeks cheered him. "More than once."

Steve hummed an agreement, more on automatic than from actually listening. He knew how to look like he was paying attention, even if his head was deep in possible escape plans.

If he dipped at the last minute to the bathroom on the way to fifth period, Tommy wouldn't have time to stop him and he could make a break for his car…

That just left making up a plausible enough excuse as to why thee Steve Harrington, whose single status was the current hot topic of the school, left school early on Valentines Day.

("Candy, sex, the overwhelming affection of all the ladies." Tommy drawled out that morning, practically preening. "Valentine's Day is the best holiday man. Just look at all this!"

He waved a hand at his locker, which was absolutely covered in paper hearts.

"The rally squad put hearts on the lockers of everyone on the basketball team, Tommy." Carol argued, rolling her eyes. "Steve’s is practically buried in them.”

Tommy opened his mouth to respond, no doubt with something else teasing and rude, but Carol’s elbow caught him in the gut first.

“If you keep acting like this you're not getting any sex." She warned.

"Aww baby, don't be like that. You know you're the only one for me." Tommy teased, with a wink that prompted Carol to smack him on the shoulder.

Laughing, he added: "Besides we can't fight or we'll miss our favorite game. Which poor gal thinks this year is the year Steve will take her out on a date!"

Carol allowed Tommy to put an arm over her shoulder, the two of them turning knowing grins on their friend as a singular unit.

Even if Steve hadn’t felt like their friend in a hot minute.

Not in the way he used to.

"I do love watching them stutter through their little confessions.” Carol admitted, like this wasn’t something they’d loved doing since middle school. “I wonder if anyone will ever top Cindy Komer."

Steve almost wasn't fast enough to cover his wince--that particular incident had been painful for him and Cindy.

Steve still had no idea what he'd said to make the then-freshman cry.

He thought he'd been nice about turning her down, but judging by Carol constantly quoting what he'd said, Steve had a feeling he'd accidentally been an asshole again.

Not that anyone ever thought it was accidental.

“Steve? Hel~lo? Are you listening?” Carol said, snapping to get his attention and God did Steve hate that.

Never realized just how much until Nancy but after she’d pointed out that Carol treated him and Tommy both like her dogs, well.

It was hard not to notice--and be a bit resentful.

“God you keep doing this, you’re turning into such a space case.” Carol continued, the edge back in her voice. The same one she’d been using for a while, like Steve was on her last nerve. “Please tell me you’re not still mooning over Nancy fucking Wheeler.”

“No.” He snapped, only to know instantly that was the wrong move, and try to fix it before Carol blew up. “No--I’ve just already had to fend someone off today. Like first thing--I was barely out of my car.”

There, that should keep Carol and Tommy both off his back for being “angry” and it wasn’t even a lie. He really had been asked out earlier, though the girl had been gracious about his rejection.

Of course, this kind of instant redirection came with a price--and in this case, it was being absolutely hounded for more information.

“Oh shit who!? Was it that Buckley girl?” Carol perked up immediately, like a hunting dog scenting prey. “I swear she stares holes in your head, she’s so weird…” )

"This isn't about romance! It's about showing who has the most cash, gets the most sex! It's a pathetic social ritual you're all falling for!” Munson yelled, jolting Steve back into the present. “I bet none of you even enjoy it!”

"Tell that to all the girls Steve’s dated!” One of the younger basketball guys hollered, prompting a wave of laughter from the rest of the cafeteria. “They seem to enjoy it plenty!”

Steve couldn’t see who had said it, and should have felt the normal wave of smug warmth that the team had his back.

Except his team had already proven they didn’t.

Were in fact, siding more and more with Hargrove, just as Tommy was.

They were rapidly approaching a watershed moment. Steve could feel it, the same way he’d always been able to tell when a crowd was about to turn.

He was losing, but was still on top of Hawkins social spaces enough, had caught it early enough, that he could turn everyone’s favor--if he wanted.

Emphasis on ‘if.’

Munson spun to face his table, hair whipping to smack him in the face. The guy had clearly been trying to grow it out, but right now he looked like one of those poodles Carol's mom loved so much.

So said Carol, anyway.

"You sure about that?" Munson challenged, a crazed grin breaking across his face. "Rumor has it King Steve lost his groove ever since Wheeler dumped him!"

Steve grimaced, though he was secretly thankful Munson went with "dumped" instead of "cheated on" (or any of the other vile words Billy had flung around, spreading across the school in the sick, crawling way rumors moved.

Hargrove had been positively brutal about the whole Jonathan and Nancy thing, and the only reason he wasn't here now to spin this whole situation against Steve was because the guy always vanished at lunch.)

Tommy's face morphed into an affronted snarl, hands slapping down on the table. He turned expectantly to Steve, waiting for "The King" to get up and "handle" Munson.

Like Steve even cared about this dumb high school shit anymore.

It took him a moment to realize Steve wasn’t planning on doing anything. Was in fact, going to remain perfectly quiet, other than an eyeroll and half-assed middle finger in Munson’s direction.

Tommy let out a disgusted scoff in his direction and then decided to handle things himself.

(Like that had ever been a good idea.)

“Shut up, Freak. The only game you have is in the prison showers.” He snapped, half rising from the table. “Isn’t that why you keep your hair long? So all the boys will actually fuck you?!”

Whistles and yells lit the air, though Steve didn’t miss how the girls at the table looked taken aback at the sheer vitriol in Tommy’s voice.

Even Carol looked startled, eyes sliding to meet Steve’s as if to confirm she hadn’t just imagined it.

The three of them had always been good at this kind of mindless high school banter, but this over the top, crude shit?

It wasn’t Tommy’s style.

It was Hargrove’s.

(That was its own growing issue.

The way Tommy was gravitating towards Billy.

How Carol kept expecting Steve to act like he used to.

That she blamed his “outbursts” on Nancy, snidely mentioning that Steve had better have learned his lesson about “changing his personality for pussy.”

Even now Steve knew they were only defending him because Munson was the one saying it.)

“I didn’t realize Harrington still had his attack dog!”

Munson put a hand against his heart as though injured, staggering dramatically backwards.

“I thought you were too busy putting your tongue up Hargrove’s ass to bark at people!”

Tommy immediately fired back, letting loose an uninspired string of curse words and something about Eddie being queer again. Steve didn’t hear the specifics--didn’t care to hear it, even as things started to spiral out of control.

All he wanted to do was go home.

Ideally before Billy got back from lunch and decided to make a spectacle himself, because Steve could feel that coming just as he could everything else.

He was running out of time to come up with an excuse to get out of here without making a production out of it, and Munson wasn’t someone he wanted to piss off today, given he’d half hoped to buy weed off the guy before he ditched.

…Which was looking more and more unlikely given Tommy had just screeched some insult that had put Munson’s sights back on Steve.

“You sure? Cause Harrington looks like he’s just gonna sit there and take it, just like he takes everything Hargrove and Wheeler and anyone else throws at him.”

He leered, leaning forward as if to see into Steve’s very soul.

“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but our beloved King here hasn’t exactly been defending his crown. If anything, he’s abandoned it.”

The world stopped.

This was the first time someone actually called him out on the fact that he often let whatever crap Billy spewed go. That Nancy and him had a few awkward encounters publicly, with at least one of them starting a rumor that she’d told Steve to fuck off.

(She hadn’t of course, but Carol had stopped running damage control, and Steve was feeling the effects of her ire.)

Silence echoed, and Steve realized with a dawning sort of horror, that Munson was waiting for a response from him.

Just as the entire cafeteria was.

The catalyst was here, brought on early by one Edward Munson.

With a startling amount of clarity, Steve realized he was done.

With his so called friends, with the girls who’d tried corning him all morning, with Hargrove and just--everything.

He was over it.

If Billy wanted the crown so bad he could fucking have it.

(If Tommy wanted to pretend he was tougher than he was by mimicking the dick, then he could have that too.)

“This is stupid.” Steve announced, dropping the masks he so carefully wore. The ones he kept having to fix, because the Upside Down and its related demons (human and non) kept taking chunks out of it.

He stood, feeling the weight of the room press down on him as he faced them all down.

“Yeah--!” Tommy started to pile on, seeming to think Steve was about to unleash hell, and got the surprise of a lifetime when Steve turned and jammed a finger in his face.

“Shut up.” He snapped.

Knew instantly he only got away with it by the fact that he’d caught everyone off guard.

King Steve did a lot of things, but he rarely blew up.

“This is stupid.” He reiterated, voice booming across the lunch room, “ You wanna fight? Fine, but leave me out of it.”

“The King doesn’t want to play? Why I never thought we’d see the day!” Munson clucked his tongue, and without missing a beat Steve turned to him.

“For someone who is always screaming about nonconformity, you sure are happy to attack anyone who doesn’t do what you want.”

Steve’s voice was loud, but he wasn’t screaming. Wasn’t yelling or throwing his arms around.

He didn’t need to. Had never needed to.

“I heard you going off on that guy whose lunch you're standing on yesterday, because he wanted to watch the Colts play.” Steve continued, voice cold. “Half of your friends are terrified of you, because you’ll scream at them just like you accuse us of doing--and let’s be real here, Munson, you do it more.”

In a dramatic move that absolutely, 100% came from Dustin and his theatrics, Steve shrugged his letterman jacket off and bunched it into a ball.

“You might as well crown yourself King, because you’re the exact same as the rest of us. Here--you can start with this.”

Cocking back an arm, Steve let the jacket fly. Watched with everyone else as it landed neatly right at Eddie’s feet.

Shell shocked, Munson’s eyes drifted from Steve down to the letterman jacket and back. They were massive, those stupid eyes of his, but at least it meant Steve could see the realization wash over the guy in real time.

Steve should have felt smug about it. His past self would have.

Presently?

He just felt tired.

“You’re welcome to jam it up your ass.” He finished, before giving his own sarcastic half bow to the room.

The cafeteria was dead silent. Not a fork was scraped, or a loud piece of chip chewed. All eyes were on Steve, some waiting to see if Eddie would let him have the last word, others just shocked to see Steve lose his shit in front of them.

Idiot he was, he tried to rally anyway.

Even Tommy, who’d partly stood up, hands pressed against the lunch table looked shocked.

“What the fuck Steve!?” He sputtered, and it wasn’t long before half the basketball team was muttering similar remarks.

They were ignored.

Whispers ripped across the room when Steve turned on his heel, striding towards the exit and making it clear things were over, but Tommy didn’t give up.

“Fuck you Harrington!” He hurled at his back, Carol now standing and placing a restraining hand on his arm. “You’re not fucking better than any of us!”

Steve didn’t even look back.

"That's my point Tommy." Steve said, loud enough to be heard. "No one is better than anyone else. You lot are all just buying into your own bullshit.”

Then he was slamming through the doors, and out into the sunlight.

xXx

He didn’t want to go home.

Not anymore, which was ironic in a way that made Steve’s face screw up in a grimace.

Here he’d been dying to go to his stupid house all day, and now, after losing his shit and undoubtedly, the last of his social standing, he just didn’t feel like being by himself.

All alone, in a house too big for him, full of nothing but dark corners and a phone that never rang.

So instead, he wandered, reminiscing on how Valentine's Day used to be his favorite day of the year.

Steve loved the gesture of it all--the romance, the wooing. The butterflies floating in one's stomach, mixing with fear of rejection and a burning kind of hope towards starting something new.

Of course, Steve also had always had a girl in mind, when he celebrated. Now, after Nancy…

He did not.

It felt weird to go to Skull Rock--the place he himself had made into Hawkins hottest makeout spots. Likewise all the local restaurants were off limits--too many adults knew how much he loved the holiday.

Steve didn’t want to face that. The expectations, the knowing winks that would slide into uncomfortable frowns. Any possible advice given wouldn’t be appreciated, and the last thing Steve wanted was to get the “everyone has an off season, son” speech.

So he’d stayed away from his usual haunts. Explored some storefronts instead, the Beamer parked in front of Family Video as he wandered.

Had an entirely too peaceful two hours, which of course, meant he had to bump into someone.

At least, Steve thought dully, whole body tensing in preparation, it was Munson.

Not Hargrove, or Tommy, or hell--the children, demanding he help them fight some other fucked up creature the government had accidentally summoned.

“Hey Harrington.” Munson said, and it took a moment for Steve to realize the guy was embarrassed. “I uh, I need to talk to you.”

Steve just stared at him.

“If you couldn’t tell from earlier,” He warned, “I’m a little done talking for today.”

Or any day, for the foreseeable future.

“Yeah no--I, I got that. I--okay.” Eddie stopped rocking on his heels, before giving his entire body a shake, like the guys sometimes did while prepping for a game. “Hear me out, and then you can deck me or leave or whatever makes you feel better.”

“I’m not going to deck you.” Steve said, exasperated and frazzled and not wanting to do this whole song and dance a second time.

Not that it mattered, because Munson had already launched right into whatever it was he needed to say.

“There’s this book right? My Uncle got it for me. It’s a fantasy book all about this big battle and there’s these wizards in it, and--” He stopped himself, shaking out his hands.

Like he realized he was rambling and needed the movement to get himself back on track.

“I always--I guess I saw myself as a Gandalf kinda guy? Like I was this shepherd herding these lost sheep. A person who intimately knew all the dark forces of the world and could be a shield for them. Do not pass and all that.”

He chuckled, but it was weak, and he killed it almost immediately.

“...Okay?” Steve said, knowing he was supposed to say something here, even if he had no idea what.

Maybe something about how Gandalf the Grey wasn’t exactly a shepard given he’d led the hobbits straight into Mordor, but saying that meant admitting Steve knew what Lord of the Rings was, which wasn’t a conversation he felt like getting into.

Particularly not because he’d only read the damn things after losing a bet to Dustin and Mike both.

Munson nodded, as if acknowledgement was all he needed.

“I thought that’s what I was doing. I wasn’t and I didn’t realize I wasn’t until you pointed it out. You shouldn’t have had to point it out. You shouldn’t have had to say any of what you did.” He rushed to add, oddly sincere.

"Is this…" Steve might be confused but catching on, an uptick at the corners of his mouth as the tiniest spark of amusement leaked through. "an apology? Are you trying to apologize right now?"

Eddie groaned, flinging his head back. "No!”

Then immediately;

“Actually yes, but--”

Which caught Steve off guard enough that he laughed, and had to hide it with a cough.

“I am sorry, man. I shouldn’t have said that shit about you, especially not about you and Wheeler. It's more than that though.” Munson swallowed, before squaring his shoulders. “It’s that you were right."

“I was right?” Steve repeated dumbly, because fuck, he couldn’t believe it either.

Not that Munson heard him. Eddie always had been hard to stop once he started, and Steve had been in enough classes with the guy to know the train had left the station.

"I did yell at Jeff because he wanted to watch that stupid football game.” He began, and Steve got a front row seat to watch as one Eddie Munson word vomited his way through a myriad of emotions.

“I fuckin’ lost it on Grant because he missed band practice to drive his sister to some thing. Gareth looked like I was going to hit him when I asked if I had really been that bad--same exact look he gave Hagan and those other assholes that cornered him in the bathroom two weeks ago!”

“Tommy did what?”

Steve was promptly ignored.

(Or more likely, Eddie simply didn’t hear him, too lost in his own voice to realize Steve had said something.)

There were a lot of mentions of the Gandalf guy. Where Eddie thought he’d gone wrong, and even something about a glowing eye thing that had Steve a little concerned until he realized Munson was talking about Sauron (and also made Steve realize that he’d been pronouncing Sauron in his head wrong, oops.)

“I called up this friend of mine who graduated. She’s always been no nonsense, so I asked her for her advice.” Munson said, finally seeming to slow down a little. “She told me I might as well eat my own doctrine because I sure wasn’t living by it, and that if I wanted to fix it then I should start by apologizing. To everyone but--to you, first.”

Eddie took a step back, winging out his hands as if to present himself.

“So here I am. Apologizing.”

A pause wherein neither of them did a thing, which caused him to awkwardly add; “To uh, you. Harrington.”

“Yeah I got that.” Steve said, because what else was he supposed to do here? “Good for you? I guess?”

“Most people either forgive a guy or tell him to fuck off.” Munson pouted, and mimicked like he was kicking at a rock.

It made Steve want to laugh again, though he shoved the urge down.

“Someone once told me,” He said instead, speaking slowly to make damn sure he didn’t let slip this piece of advice came from a middle schooler. “that apologies without actions don’t really mean anything. They’re a start--they let people know you’re aware you screwed up, but no one’s going to trust you if you don’t follow through. So I can forgive you, but I think you’re better off doing this with one of your friends.”

Someone who would hug it out, or at least tell Eddie how he could be better, at least.

Rather than argue, Munson just titled his head back, eyes to the sky. Like he was really thinking on the words, before giving a sort of accepting sounding noise.

“Trying too.” Steve admitted with a sigh.

“That’s what you’ve been doing, isn’t it?” He asked, head coming back down so he could stare at Steve.

“The thing in the cafeteria was a good start.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie grinned.

“Yeah. Don’t think Hagan’s gonna see it the same way though.”

“We were falling out anyway.” Steve admitted, and hated how easy it was to say.

That they really were just going through the motions of friendship. Had been, ever since Jonathan had punched Steve in the face.

“Think you lost more than just him as a friend, to be honest.”

“Pro tip about the actions thing, Munson?” Steve said with a snort, once again unsure of where this conversation was going, “Nice people don’t typically point out when someone’s turned into a social pariah.”

“No, I get that. Say,” Eddie’s grin had grown, which Steve would have taken poorly except he invaded Steve’s space with a goofy little hop. “I think you might be in need of some new ones!”

“New…friends?” Steve hesitated, very unsure of what was happening.

Munson promptly stuck his hand out. “Yup! So--hello, my name is Eddie Munson, and I am here to apply for the position as your friend!”

Steve snorted, but the harshness of it was taken away by the grin on his face.

He took Eddie’s hand, noting how doing so made the older teen’s smile widen.

“Nice to meet you Eddie, I’m Steve.”

Excited, Eddie waived their arms up and down, with far more enthusiasm than the gesture required.

“How about we cement our new friendship by renting a truly terrible horror movie and drowning our woes with my other good friend, Mary Jane?”

Then he waggled his eyebrows, like that was something scandalous.

“Tempting me along with weed, huh?” Steve mused back, sticking his hands in his pockets once Eddie let him go. “Guess you’re a little like Gandalf the Gray after all. Just don’t send me on any missions.”

“Steve Harrington.” Eddie gaped, pure delight spreading across his face. “Have you read Lord of the Rings!?”

He got a shrug and a sly; “Maybe.” in response.

It was worth the barrage of questions, even if the rapid fire pace of them nearly gave Steve a headache.

(Just as it was worth it several months later, when Steve was comfortable enough to instigate wrestling matches with Eddie over the dumbest of things.

One particularly semi-drunk tussle over the remote led to an interesting discovery when Eddie popped a boner, and then frantically tried to escape when it brushed against Steve’s leg.

Instead of panicking--or letting Eddie bolt in his panic, Steve just dropped his whole weight down, effectively pinning the slimmer man to the floor.

“Steve.”

Eddie said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear it, the word filled with desperation.

The kind of tone someone whispered a prayer in, a sort of pleading that Eddie did better with his eyes than his voice. Or would have, given his own were firmly scrunched closed the second he realized he’d been caught out.

Except--

“Not right now I’m thinking.” Steve told him absently.

Which he was. Speed thinking even, if that was a thing.

Because if two plus two equaled four (which it did) then feeling the exact same, fluttering excitement about Eddie’s boner as Steve had Nancy’s breasts, equaled…

“The fuck? Steve--”

Steve shushed him.

That pulled a frustrated, embarrassed groan from Eddie that went directly to Steve’s own dick, not that it needed much help waking up.

“I think I’m having one of those crisis’s Robin is always accusing the basketball team of having.” Steve informed Eddie dutifully, the dots done connecting.

Eddie, still refusing to open his eyes, snorted.

“Whatever man. Can you at least be decent and hurry up with the beating? This is embarrassing enough.”

“I’m not going to beat you up.” Steve said, thankful that his brain managed not to add some shitty comment about the entire town being awash in rumors of Eddie’s sexuality. That he’d confirmed it here wasn’t exactly a surprise.

“I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, let me know.” Streve added, before screwing up his courage and leaning down.

That of course, got Eddie to open his eyes.

“Wha--” He managed, before Steve’s lips were on his.

For one single, blissful moment, Eddie Munson’s mouth was too busy to talk.

“Yeah?” Eddie said, voice wrecked, and oh, Steve liked that.

“Huh.” Steve muttered, when they broke for air. “Well that’s new.”

Liked the way Eddie looked at him more, hesitant, but with heat in his gaze.

Steve had always been good about knowing what to do with heat.

He leaned back down, pecking lightly at Eddie’s lips, and was delighted to find Eddie not only let him, but kissed back.

“Not bad, Munson, but I think I could give you a few pointers.” Steve muttered, nose ghosting alongside Eddie’s. “Let me show you…”

One boyfriend, several weeks, and another interdimensional monster later, Steve found himself socked in the arm by none other than his coworker, Robin Buckley.

In her defense, she’d confessed her love for Tammy Thompson, still somewhat drugged on the Starcourt bathroom floor, only for Steve to tease her that at least his boyfriend could actually sing.

“God you and Eddie Munson.” She muttered after, smile on her face. “How did that happen?”

Steve knocked his shoe into hers, returning the grin unabashedly.

“So remember last Valentines Day?” Steve started, all too eager to finally tell someone who understood about the best thing to ever happen to him.

Robin of course, would soon also be ranked in that same chart, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. )

#DADDYS BACK #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #pre steddie to steddie #0o0 fanfics #be gentle with me I JUST got my computer back lmao #this was a warmup I finished out #Ive been writing at work on my lunches #yes I have been working on adopt a jock #and the third part of the holiday hellfire fic #I think I stared at that steddisy one once #maybe #IDK this whole ass month has been a blurr

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

Note

Hello, Congratulations on the 5k follows!!

I discovered this fandom a few months ago and have been living for your writing ever since.

I was thinking as a drabble of the taskforce gentlemen coming home at the crack of dawn from a long mission and seeing their spouse's hand, limp on the ground peeking out from the side of the couch. All the panic and worry going thru their heads, so much bubbling up, horrible scenarios. They rush over and find you sleeping on the floor. The power had gone out last night and the hardwood floor was the coolest place to be (you didn't want to open the window because you know how they worry), so you were watching stuff on your phone and drifted off. Crisis averted!

Thank you for your time 💜

—Wide-Eyed Panic

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞

I’ll start by saying all of them would be concerned and immediately go into panic mode—why were you behind the couch? Why was your hand sticking out? Why, in God's name, were you not moving? Cue the horrible thoughts and flashes of what went on in their work lives.

John Price ➺

John entered the house with a sigh, slipping off his boots as the door was closed and deftly locked behind him. Grunting under his breath, the man rubs over his face, the lights off as he calls out with a tired grumble to his voice.

“I’m back,” his voice echoes, the tone moving through the darkness far louder than it should have. There’s no answer. “Love…?” Pausing, John blinks slowly at the wall, ear twitching to the utter silence of the home. No water in the pipes. No buzzing of electricity. No you. Eyes rising, they dart around quickly as his finger moves out to the light switch. A small push elicits nothing, just as he thought. The power was out.

Dread slowly creeps into John’s chest.

Hand reaching behind his back, the man’s fingers inch over the smooth metal of a pistol, grasping the weapon before he begins walking forward. He keeps silent, feet moving to where he knows the wood won't creak.

His mind runs.

Why was the power off? Where were you? Why didn’t you respond—were you hurt? John’s mind goes to blood and bullets, his jaw clenching tightly as the pistol comes out to rest in front of him; hands shifting the grip as he takes a soothing breath. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone, but it would be pointless to lie about how his heart hammers.

“Fuck,” he growls, eyes going tight.

That’s when he sees it. Blue eyes widen sharply.

“Love!” John shouts, all other concerns about intruders meaningless to him. Your hand was sticking out from behind the couch, a dark shadow in the low light. He rushes over as you jerk, yelling in alarm as he rushes to grab you, pulling you up into his arms and pulling you away into the closet across the room.

“John!” You blink rapidly as you’re set back against the wall.

“Shush now,” he grunts, eyes panicked. “Keep awake, let me look.” A hand moves all over your body, searching and pulling at clothes to touch the skin for any wounds. “Tell me where it hurts, then. Quickly. We have to move—”

“John, what the hell,” you push at him, moving him back. Your eyes try to adjust to being so rudely awakened at such an hour. “What are you doing?!”

You weren’t hurt.

The Captain’s face pulls in with confusion, back against the closet door and now in more darkness than ever before. He can barely make out your face before you sigh and put your hands against his arms.

Things begin to calm down as his hand rests at your hip, nearly tight enough to bruise. In his other is the gun just before you put your hand to it and softly peel the item away from him—putting it on the shelf that you know is to your left.

Hands find John’s cheeks as he pants.

“John,” you say his name again. “...what happened.”

“Why were you on the ground?” He forces out firmly, voice a low grunt. “Why were the lights not—”

“The power went out for everyone, okay?” You speak slowly, rubbing your thumbs over his beard. “It was on the news. I didn’t open a window because I knew you would worry about that—the floor was cool and it was getting too hot in here.”

Your mind tells you to explain quickly and fluently. You move forward and press your forehead into John’s as he sags with a great exhalation of breath—his arms circling you tightly until your spine might crack.

He doesn’t speak for a long while, just holding you.

“Scared me,” he mutters, missing you deeply on the forehead, speaking into your skin. “Fuck, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He keeps you to his chest, eyes fluttering shut and his spine hunching over you, fingers splayed over your back. You run your hands through his hair and calm the swelling of your heart.

You can feel his pulse mirroring your own.

Simon Riley ➺

When he sees your hand, he freezes.

Simon wasn’t a stranger to the lights being off in the home—you opted for lamps and low light more often than not; this wasn’t new. He had only quirked a brow when he came home to the pitch-blackness, off from his recent deployment and eager for a warm bed to fall into. He admits he’d let himself calm down on the car ride home—your home was where he could relax and release tension until it became as unimportant as an ant on the pavement.

But when he’d closed the door silently behind him and walked the few steps it would take to enter the living room, where he was sure you were still up either reading or watching something on your phone under a blanket, his body had stiffened immediately.

Your hand sticking out from behind the couch. Limp.

Lifeless.

He’d been staring at it for only a few seconds before the memories came back—the ones of gore splattered to the walls and ceiling of an old flat back in Manchester.

Simon’s thoughts had hit him like a bullet.

Not again.

Rushing forward like a bear, the man slips along the hardwood as his knees go down, shaking the home at the force at which he grabs at your body and flips you from your side to your back.

You gasp awake and instinctually throw out a fist, connecting with a stone chest as you hiss and blink in panic.

Fingers ruthlessly dig into your shoulders, wide brown eyes open, and…and afraid.

“Simon?” You mutter softly, all fear in your heart is squished in an instant.

The man breathes through wheezes, balaclava fabric moving from the force of his breaths. His fingers are shaking, blinking as his head jerks to look your lying form up and down swiftly.

You hesitantly put a hand on his cheek and he flinches before nuzzling into it.

“Don’t…” he takes a quivering breath into his lungs, and after, loosens his grip on your skin. Simon’s hands go to your waist, dragging you up and stapling you to his chest. “Don’t do that again.”

His voice is low. Vulnerable.

You blink, hands holding him back on the floor.

“...The power went out,” you try to explain only half of it softly, muffled by his neck.

He only holds you harder, eyes open and blankly staring at the floor a foot away.

Johnny MacTavish ➺

Johnny hums a song under his breath, hanging his keys on the hook near the door.

“Dearie!” He calls to you loudly, itching at the side of his head and chuckling. “Don’t run too fast to me now, I’m all yours for two w—”

The light switch is moved by his finger, but no light illuminates his path to the living room. Pausing in the entrance, the man’s brows furrow tightly, speech cutting off like scissors to paper.

“...eeks?” Johnny ends his sentence, turning back around to look at the switch in confusion. “The hell’s going on with that?” He mutters to himself, a frown growing on his face before he refocuses on his mission to find you—now with the added task of figuring out why the power was out in the house.

“Swear,” the man grumbles, huffing while he runs a hand over his face, “if those kids down the street did something I’ll be livid. Little devils, I swear.”

Johnny steps farther into the living room, glancing around.

“Dearie?” He pauses, listening before calling out your name. “Where’s she off to?”

He sighs softly, wanting to hold you now that he’s home to do so—squeeze you in his arms and take in your scent again; he’d missed you immensely while he was away.

Johnny came across your hand sticking out from behind the couch by accident, moving to make his way into your bedroom thinking that you were sleeping. He sees an odd shape in the blackness and pauses, feet slowing to a stop.

When he notices that it’s a hand—your hand, he doesn’t even realize that he’s completely gripped the side of the couch and wrenched it back until the scratch of the wood floors screams in his ears.

You wake up to hands on your cheeks, sharp yelling, and your head being shaken up and down until you’re conscious.

“Dearie, hey! What the fuck,” the last sentence is growled on fast lips. “What the fuck.”

Your hands slap to Johnny’s wrists, nails digging in.

He breathes out quickly, looking into your eyes to look for dilation as the darkness forces him closer. “There we are, tell me where you’re hurting, now, yeah? Did you hit your head? Let me take a look. It’s okay, I’ll get you all fixed up, there’s no need to worry.”

“Hey!” Your hands push at his, trying to shove the brick wall away from you. “Quit it! Johnny! I’m fine! ”

The man pauses at your animated movements, blinking rapidly before his grip loosens.

When it’s obvious that you’re perfectly fine, he moves back and groans, thumb and forefinger digging into his nose bridge.

“Hell’s bells, Hen.” You glare, panting on the floor before you push yourself up.

“‘Hell’s bells’, me?” Johnny’s head plops to your shoulder. “You just shook me like a fucking rabbit!”

“Scared the shite out of me, you terror.” The man huffs. “Need to put a heart monitor on you.”

“Piss off,” you sigh, putting a hand to your chest to feel the pace of your pulse and the blood that runs furiously.

Johnny, moments later as he’s still resting on your shoulder, starts…laughing. Low at first, then gaining noise the more it goes unchecked—a deep rumble into chest-jerking amusement. You look down at him, the couch tilted and long scratches over the floor. Pausing, you blink at his shaking shadow before your lungs start quivering. The two of you bend over one another with shared, house-shaking laughter.

“What the fuck were you doin’ behind the damn couch?” Johnny grabs you close, kissing along your neck as he picks you up, dragging you to your feet.

“The power went out!” You giggle, chest hurting from the fast gasps of breath as more kisses are spread over your skin. “It was colder down there and I didn’t want to open one of the windows because I knew you’d throw a pouting match about it.”

“Christ, Dearie.” Lips meet your own. “I had half the mind to think you had a heart attack. Nearly gave me one.”

Kyle Garrick ➺

Kyle sighs as he rubs at his jaw, itching the skin and slipping out of his jacket.

“I’m home, Love!” He says, his voice echoing over the flat. “Want me to start on supper or have you eaten yet?” The man smiles, taking off his cap and putting it on the coat rack, sighing softly.

It was good to be back.

Bending down to unlace his boots, he pulls at them until they’re loose enough to slip out of, thumping to their sides on the rug until he reaches out and fixes them.

“What’s that, then?” He calls into the darkness, not hearing your answer as he quickly checks the time on his phone. “Fuck, it’s late,” Kyle utters to himself.

Walking into the kitchen, he touches the light switch only to be met with nothing. Pausing, the man’s face pulls in—fingers twitching at his sides as he glances at the window and the moonlight that seeps in to glare along the floor.

A deep frown takes hold of him, and he looks around once more before backing up.

“...Love?” Kyle wasn’t too concerned—the building wasn’t always the best, and power outages weren’t unheard of. But, damn, if the high of getting off of a deployment didn’t put him in a negative head-space when it came to a change in routine involving you.

Why weren’t you answering him?

Walking slightly faster into the living room, his hand nearly reaches into his pocket to call your phone if you didn’t end up in any of the rooms—pulse beginning to be infected with a steady injection of adrenaline.

Brown eyes find your hand behind the couch when they’re about to shift to the open door of your bedroom. A sharp gasp is inhaled instantaneously.

Kyle races over, grappling to it and pressing his fingers to your neck for a pulse. You softly breathe, none the wiser as you lightly shift and sigh in your sleep; a delicate hum moving out as familiar fingers dig into you.

It’s through his panic that a thought quickly cuts through the man’s mind. You’d mentioned this before.

Kyle pauses, just about to loudly wake you.

‘It gets hot when the power goes out, Kyle, I swear one of these days I’m going to just fall asleep on the floor. At least it’s cool down there.’

Well, the power was out, and, it seemed, you really had fallen asleep on the floor. Now that he thought about it, the flat was running hot—and he also knew that you knew he had gotten nervous of late when you left the windows open at night.

“Bloody hell,” the man releases a long breath, free hand moving to grip the back of his head. A few seconds later, Kyle chuckles to himself, shaking his head with a small smile. “You are losing it, Mate. Losing it.”

Without another word, he grips you, and with a grunt, picks you up and takes you to bed, setting you down on the pillows and making sure to leave the sheets off of you so you don’t grow uncomfortable.

A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and you hum in slumber, smiling unconsciously.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Love.”

He leaves to go make a quick supper of cereal and milk.

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