#anyway if you were wondering what the poll from a few weeks ago was for

[thehellishtrinity]

Happy MerMay everyone!

[lilithslittleworld]

New To This

A/N: I made a poll a few weeks ago about wanting to write a new smut with several different scenarios/characters with a winner of "Jacob Black x Reader"!

I initially wanted to write a really steamy, sexy scene but it ended up evolving into a steamy but also loving/fluffy sex scene! *i feel like this is werewolf Jacob meets cute, pre-wolf Jacob* I hope you all enjoy ;)

(PS: Nessie does not and will not exist in this fanfic, aka you and Jacob will live happily ever after. Also both of you are 18 or above ).

Summary: A few weeks after Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob teaches you how to cliff dive. You're sure you could teach him a few things too...

The wind howled viciously, sending your hair flying in every direction and shivers that racked your body. You stepped closer to the cliff's edge, peering slightly over to catch a glimpse of the angry waves below.

Jacob stood behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he scowled at you. "This is a terrible idea," Jacob huffed, his dark eyebrows pinching in worry.

Jacob never wore shirts, or at least that's what it seemed like. "It was your idea," you reminded him. Jacob glared at you in response but took a step forward.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. It was a silly question to ask, since you both knew the answer.

"You better believe it," you grinned back at him. You pulled off your thick coat, leaving it folded on a rock beside Jacob's truck. You two would have to come back up for both sooner or later and the idea of being weighed down by a water-soaked winter coat didn't sound ideal. Your boots came off as well, for good measure.

The cold made your hands sting, turning your knuckles an angry red as you stood in your thin, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks. Jacob on the other hand, stood comfortably, despite lacking a shirt and in shorts.

"H-how are you not freezing?" you asked incredulously, your teeth chattering, "It's the middle of December!"

"I'm just a little hotter than most," Jacob winked at you, holding out a hand. "Ready whenever you are."

You rolled your eyes at him but brought your hand to his. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger they were, most of Jacob was anyway. They were also exceptionally warm just as you had expected. Maybe he did run warmer than the rest of people...

"Okay," you breathed, as Jacob guided you both to the cliff's edge, the waters below you lapped furiously at the rocky coast, "On the count of three. One, two, th-"

And suddenly you were falling. You screamed at Jacob for not having respected the countdown but it was useless, the fall was short and the wind howled even louder as you plummeted into the cold, dark water.

Your body sank like a stone, the weight pulling you down deeper into the frigid water. You thrashed your arms, desperate to make it to the surface once again. Thousands of little ice-like knives sank into your skin with every movement. You wondered how Jacob was handling the cold. But there were more important things to think about now. You were running out of air.

Now only a few feet from the surface, you felt a strong arm pulling you up towards it at an incredible speed. Your head broke through the surface, your mouth opening automatically to gasp the free air greedily. As your panic started to ebb, your sight began to unblur slowly, taking in your surroundings and the breathless boy before you.

"Y/N!" Jacob gasped, partially due to the little stunt he'd pulled with the jump, having swam around to find you, and worry. "Can you hear me?"

You nodded quickly, taking into account how clogged your ears were. "I'm good," you croaked, followed by a tamer fit of coughing.

Jacob wrapped a protective arm around you, dragging you along with him as his legs and free arm paddled you both towards the shore. You protested at first until it became clear that you were unable to swim that distance and that Jacob would never let you go.

"That was fun," you noted cheerfully, as the ocean floor below you began to rise enough for Jacob to stand. It would take you a little longer to reach.

"Yeah, well it's never happening again," he scoffed, wading out of the shallow water, "You could've died." You watched as little water droplets dripped from his short hair down his toned back and shoulders, secretly hoping swimming with him would happen again soon.

It was no secret that you were attracted to Jacob. Besides, he rarely hid the fact that he was interested in you as well. You two had met at Bella Swan's wedding. It wasn't a great introduction, to say the least, but it eventually blossomed into whatever this was. Jacob was always honest about what he felt but he had never made any grandiose confessions or even really specified what you were to him, apart from a girl he liked. He was careful around you.

Jacob's voice interrupted your thoughts and so did the cold. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there," he called out, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Stupid fireboy," you muttered under your breath, as you dragged your nearly numb legs forward. He was right. Your fingers had started to turn blue and you became aware of how little of your body you could feel.

"What was that?" he grinned, amused at your suddenly cranky mood.

"Oh, I know you heard me," you hissed, swatting his arms away as he tried to pull you into them. "Stupid supersonic hearing."

Jacob laughed, clearly still thrilled. "Come here," he said, scooping you into his arms. You were so grateful for the warmth that radiated from his skin that you said nothing as he carried you across the woods.

"I could teach you thing too, you know," you said sullenly, watching the little beach disappear from your sight.

"I'm sure you could," he replied, "But no one's teaching anyone anything until you're out of these wet clothes and showered."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he intending to shower with you? You had never done more than makeout with this boy but the idea of him in a shower with you sent your pulse overboard.

Neither of you said anything else until Jacob's house. You had never really been inside before. Any ideas you had of it were based on the little you had been able to see when you peeked through the front door, waiting for Jacob in other occasions. Now, you stepped through the doorframe, taking in the small but cozy house.

Jacob walked you towards a little wooden door. "My room," he noted quietly, scratching his neck embarrassed, as you peered inside. It had a twin bed, a wooden desk, and a handful of tiny, wooden sculptures. On his bedframe, right above his pillow, hung a delicate dreamcatcher.

How many times had you imagined his room? Now you were in it, your past daydreams and fantasies coming to life.

"Do you want to shower first?" Jacob asked, pulling out a clean towel from the bathroom closet. Oh.

"Sure," you said, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the slight disappointment that dripped in your voice. This was, after all, the first time in his house, he wasn't going to rush into anything just because you were here.

Showering brought back the humanness in you that had been lost to the cold. Your skin returned to its normal feel, slightly tingly from the warm water and you could now feel every inch of yourself. You lathered yourself up in soap, scrubbing extra in all the places that might be the slightest bit smelly. You washed your hair too, getting rid of any sand or seaweed that had found its way there.

You wrapped yourself in the large towel that Jacob had given you, grateful that it covered you almost entirely. With the edge of the towel, you wiped away a circle on the foggy mirror. You looked almost the same as you had this morning, which was a relief.

Jacob sat on his bed, fiddling with his hands as you tiptoed into his room.

"You can go," you said softly. Jacob looked up at you. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. A hint of blush spread along his face, as his eyes made their way down from your mouth to your neck and finally landing on your collarbones.

Jacob stood up quickly, pulling pieces of clothing from his drawers. "Cool," he smiled at you, "Don't go anywhere."

Jacob's room felt cozy, even with just you in it. Your hands unfolded the lumps of cloth he had laid out for you: one oversized t-shirt and a pair of what seemed to be old boxer shorts. You pulled them on gratefully, now really feeling warm and cleaned up. They smelled like Jacob, a scent that sent your heart into an excited flutter.

The sound of running water sent an excited shiver down your spine. You had imagined Jacob showering so many times on your own, taking your time to really focus on what he did in there. If only you could see him now. The idea of Jacob naked now, made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

The silence broke your train of thought. Jacob would be back in his room in just minutes and here you were, fantasizing and hyperventilating over him. You sat down on the edge of his bed, making an effort to take deep breaths, an attempt to look as normal as possible. You sat awkwardly on the corner of his bed, trying hard not to be suggestive or the opposite of that.

Jacob walked in, his hair still damp and holding the tightly wrapped towel around his hips. Your eyes made their way to where his towel met his bare skin, your imagination wild. Seeing him now was so different to all the other times, this time there was almost nothing between you except a little towel, ironically.

"Enjoying the view?" Jacob's voice pierced the deafening silence but his playful tone didn't match his eyes. His deep, dark eyes burned into your own, a want behind them that was almost palpable. You felt your face growing warm at his words but there was not an ounce of regret in you.

"I think you're wearing far too much clothes," you answered boldly, an answer he seemed to enjoy as you watched a smile creep onto his lips.

"You're one to talk," he chuckled, turning away from you as he searched for his next change of clothes.

"I think that's an easy problem to solve," you said softly, pulling off the boxers you wore and tossing them over to him. Jacob caught them easily, pulling them on quickly before dropping the towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He was getting dressed, not undressed. You felt stupid now, feeling significantly naked despite the dress-like shirt that covered you.

Jacob seemed to pick up on your puzzled expression. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, exhaling before he spoke. "I've never done this."

It actually came as a great surprise that Jacob was a virgin. You had expected him to be fairly experienced, given his attitude and the obvious physical attractiveness. Now you were thrown off your game.

"I-I really thought you had," you confessed, "A few times actually."

Jacob shook his head, his eyes still trained intently on the floor. "Never really got the chance," he said softly.

A pang hit your heart. Jacob seemed truly embarrassed and almost hurt. It had never been your intention to make him feel bad about the matter. You knew something had hurt him far before your had come along. You didn't know much about his past attachment to Bella Swan but you were sure that she wasn't a person that had brought him much joy during that time.

"It's okay, Jake," you assured him gently, "I was just curious but it doesn't matter."

Jacob brought his gaze up to you, his eyes soft. "I'd like to try but I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

"You won't hurt me, Jake," you replied, walking over to him before reaching your hand out to his. He took your hand in his, the warmth of his skin spreading all over you.

You pulled him towards you, your eyes never leaving his. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me if I hurt you," Jacob said earnestly, his grip on your hand tightening faintly.

"I trust you," you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck, placing your other hand on the side of his face.

Jacob leaned his face against your hand momentarily before taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips softly against yours. It was no surprise that his lips were just as warm as the rest of him. A shiver ran down your back as you kissed him back, your lips moving gently against his. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it. Jacob groaned, pulling you closer to him, his breath quickening. Soon, every bit of you was touching him, every inch of skin against him. You could feel the little droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and running down your back from the heat of his body.

The need for him gnawed at you, the flutters in your stomach grew as Jacob took you into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. A ripple of pleasure went through you as you made contact with his hardened length, barely concealed by the boxers you'd thrown at him earlier. Jacob walked you over to his bed, his strong arms holding you up against him, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down slowly, placing a steady hand against the mattress on either side of your body.

You brought you lips back to his eagerly, hoping he wouldn't be as careful with you anymore. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere as long as Jacob tiptoed around you. You were going to set the pace. Your kisses deepened as you ran your fingertips lightly down his neck towards his chest, Jacob's breathless sighs mixing with yours as you touched him. Your fingers trailed down along his chest, making their way towards the edge of his boxers. You could feel Jacob's stomach quivering as you brought your touch closer to him. You wanted so badly to feel him trembling beneath your hands.

You dipped a finger under the band of his boxers. He felt so much warmer than anywhere else. You wanted to feel that heat everywhere. Jacob's breath hitched when your hand came in contact with him, so hard and hot on your fingertips. Instinctually, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length, not surprised its size. He was so big. You brought your gaze back up to Jacob, who now had his eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You watched him as you gave him lazy, long strokes, practically drooling at the noises that came out of his mouth. He looked so beautiful, so lost in your touch, his muscular arms beginning to shake as he kept himself propped up above you. A finger rubbed softly against his already wet tip brought a strangled moan out from Jacob. Your strokes became quicker, mesmerized at the feeling of him growing harder in your hand.

Jacob slowly began to come undone above you, his whole body shaking as he held himself up above you still. "Please," was all he could coherently plead. And you loved it. Seeing this vulnerability in Jacob was something you were not expecting and it only made you want him more. Your strokes returned to the slower pace you had started with, knowing he was just minutes away from cumming.

Jacob opened his desire-filled eyes as your hands came to a stop. You pushed him back gently, your hands on his muscular chest, until he was sitting on his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows, pulling his shirt off of you, as Jacob watched you with wide eyes. Now fully exposed before him, excitement coursed through your veins. Jerking him off had made the heat pool between your legs almost impossible to ignore. You were desperate for any sort of release and you were going to get it.

You laid yourself back on the bed, Jacob still kneeled at the foot of it, his eyes trained on you, running up and down your naked body. Slowly, you ran a hand down your chest, pausing to squeeze your boobs before trailing your fingers down your stomach. Your legs parted, knowing very well what view Jacob would have from where he sat. And you began.

After years of knowing your body, touching yourself was simple and well known. Your fingers brushed your clit lightly, gasping at the shock that ran through you. The circles started slowly, pacing yourself as the tightness in your stomach began to build. You lost yourself in the pleasure, not holding back the moans that sprang from your lips. You knew very well Jacob too, was touching himself. You could hear it. The noises of his slick hand running up and down his length, mixed with his soft groans and breaths.

You opened your eyes to the vision of Jacob touching himself, his eyes dripping with lust as he watched you do the same to yourself, the veins on his arms bulging from the movement.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked slyly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"You," he panted, his chest rising and falling as he responded.

"Mmmm," you breathed, "What about me?"

"About touching you. Tasting you. Being inside of you and making you feel so good," he said, his deep voice strained as he tried to contain himself.

"I want you to," was all you said.

Jacob was back on top of you in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. Kissing, touching, and licking every inch of you. He felt like the sun, spreading a delicious warmth all over you. His mouth was on your stomach, parting your legs with his arms before trailing down to your inner thighs. You wanted him so badly and he knew.

His mouth found your clit, giving it a light lick as your eyes rolled back, gripping his hair tightly. You moaned as you felt Jacob's tongue drawing circles, your hips bucking involuntarily seeking more.

"Mmm," Jacob hummed, sending vibrations through your core as he did. You were so close.

"Wait," you breathed, your mind foggy from the pleasure. Jacob looked up at you, his expression slightly worried.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered, his mouth still wet from you.

"Kiss me," you commanded, pulling him to you eagerly. Your lips met in a frantic effort, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of yourself on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, moaning softly at the feeling of his hardened dick against your bare stomach.

Jacob rolled over onto his back, his hands on your hips as you now straddled him. Your hips moved automatically against his, brushing your clit against his cock, your wetness dripping onto it.

"God," Jacob groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements to an even quicker pace. "So hot."

"I need you," you breathed, throwing your head back as you neared your orgasm again, "Inside of me."

Something snapped inside of Jacob as you moaned those words. His hands fumbled to find a condom on tiny nightstand beside his bed, wasting no time in pulling it down his cock. You lifted your hips as he positioned himself below you before pulling you down for another kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.

"I am," you replied, kissing him gently.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. Your heart leaped.

"I love you too, Jake," you sighed back.

You lowered yourself onto him slowly, taking time to adjust to his size, listening to Jacob gasp as you took more of him in. He stretched you perfectly, the tip of his dick hitting your G-spot as you started to tentatively bounce up and down him. As you sped up, Jacob's hands found your boobs, taking them into his mouth as you moaned his name, his hands snaking their way down your back.

"Jake," you moaned, as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple.

"Tell me," he groaned, "Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So good," you panted as Jacob's lips found your neck, biting your soft skin gently.

"That's it," he pleaded, "Ride me just like that. Please, Y/N."

Your hips were moving at an incredible speed, bringing you so close to the edge. You could feel Jacob's cock twitching inside of you, signaling his approaching orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, no longer worried about what you said or how. All you could think about was Jacob.

"Mmmm, cum all over me," he breathed, his fingers gripping your ass tightly as he made you ride him even faster. It was all too much. Jacob inside of you, Jacob groaning your name, his breathless pleads, the heat of his body. Your orgasm shook through you, you threw your head back and cried out in pleasure. Your sight even blurred momentarily. Jacob's orgasm quickly followed your own, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breaths, entangled in a sweaty mess as you did. Jacob stroked your hair softly and you traced imaginary swirls along his chest.

"So," you began, "you love me?"

Jacob laughed, his whole body shaking and ultimately shaking you as well. "Of course I do, Y/N."

You shrugged. "You'd never mentioned it."

"Well, my past love confession didn't go too well," he sighed, "Which I know is unfair to you but I wanted to use those words carefully this time, especially with someone as special as you."

"I understand," you smiled, propping your head on your hands to meet Jacob's gaze, "It's just nice to hear is all."

"It's nice to say," he said, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

"Hmmm," you said thoughtfully, "Are you going to tell your dad?"

"Got nothing to hide," he winked at you, "I'll tell all of Forks if I have to."

"Jake!" you squealed, though you knew he truly would. Jacob was the showing off type.

"Kidding," he said, poking you in the side, "Unless..."

"Knowing you, you'll probably call the local radio or put up posters," you rolled your eyes at the idea of either of those happening, "Why don't we go cliff diving again tomorrow?"

Jacob's smile tugged even harder at the corner of his lips. "I've got an even better idea. Something you taught me today."

-----------

A/N: honestly I didn't know how to end this oneshot I'm so sorry it's a little meh :/ but I really loved writing Jacob x Reader sm I might turn it into a oneshot series!!!

[existslikepristin]

Poll is set to be a week long again because tomorrow through Friday are going to be long work days, but I'll probably screenshot the incomplete results on Saturday and start writing the next part at that point

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, anal

(Story Index)

The top bunk

“Yeah, let’s fuck on the top bunk,” you say, a little unsure of exactly what you meant.

“You have a bunk bed?” Joy asks.

“No.”

“What, uh… what bunk bed then?”

You glare. “Can you make this happen or does it need to be a wish?”

Joy shrugs. “I mean yeah, I can do it. Let’s see…” she taps her chin contemplatively, “Top bunk… top bunk…”

It’s very dark. The first thing you feel is the instant, albeit subtle rise in temperature. You smell something light and floral. Instead of standing up, you’re lying on your stomach on a combination of two soft surfaces (it’s a mattress and Joy’s body. You’re not fucking stupid). You’re sure there was a transition of some sort between your kitchen and wherever you are now, but it feels very vague.

“Top bunk!” Joy chirps. She’s only barely visible in the dark.

“Where are we?” you ask, reasonably.

“Legend says that if you cum in my ass, I’ll tell you.”

Whatever. That’s kind of what you were going for anyway. You pull back and thrust ahead into your sudden missionary position, and hear the clattering of your sturdy-enough plastic mug hitting the slightly distant floor. The bed beneath you creaks and wobbles dangerously.

“Oh fuck. The tea!” Joy whines, but that complainy whine shifts into a needy whine when you lift her legs around you and pound into her ass.

Joy’s body is hot against yours. Maybe a little hotter than you’d expect from a human, and you mean that physically and in the sex way. No human being has any business feeling this good, moaning just right into your ear, teleporting you to unknown locations. Her calves on your lower back, arms thrown around your shoulders, and breasts pressed into your chest. You kiss her neck and her jawline, and she does the same back to you. You can’t help but think her lips are laced with some kind of magical drug designed to arouse you further.

Alternatively, you’re just on the verge of cumming in Joy’s ass. And you do, forgetting about the new location (as if it mattered anyway) and releasing what feels like years worth of cum (as if it worked like that) into her. Much like the last time a few minutes ago, she becomes your world for those few moments. She clenches around you, limbs and asshole alike, in her orgasm… or something like that. You didn't bother to ask. The bed quakes and creaks further, but you're so absorbed in your climax that you don't register the potential consequences of that.

It takes a while for you to finish and come out of your jizz daze. It feels rather liquidy inside Joy's butt, so you briefly wonder if the magic she pulled earlier had some additional effect on the amount of cum you generated, on top of just refreshing your energy.

Joy rubs her legs together on your back, coming down from her own high. She kisses your cheek tenderly until you pull away and look at her. You have adjusted a bit to the new illumination situation, so you can see her smile as she looks into your eyes. There's a little spark of affection on her face.

Suddenly, your eyes are assaulted by a flash of light, and your ears by a woman's shrill scream.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

With your fight or flight response triggered, you look around frantically, regretting it because of the intense light coming through a doorway, but you see a way down from the top bunk you can now visually confirm you're on.

Joy (whose ass your dick is still firmly within) speaks quickly, "Shhh! Heather, it's me!"

There's a pause, and then, "Joy?"

"You know each o—" you cut yourself off, realizing you're naked and fucking in front of a stranger, presumably on her bed.

"Where the fuck is Anya?"

Joy leans out from under you to more properly address this Heather person. "Oh, I don't know."

Heather gasps, "Is this your new master?"

"Sure is."

"Is Anya dead?!"

"What? No. She used her last wish on immortality, so she most definitely is not."

"I thought you told her not to do that."

"I did! She firmly insisted!"

"Okay, well… please get off my bed."

"I thought you used the bottom bunk."

"After Anya graduated, I took the top."

"Oh… well, okay. We can leave."

Your eyes have almost finished adjusting to the light, and you get a good look at this Heather. It's hard to get a read on her height from your vantage point, but you gather that she's a pale, chubby woman with long brown hair, and she's absolutely rocking a blue crop top. Just then, a green smoke floats into your line of sight.

"Wait, Joy! I've been meaning to ask you wh—"

You're in your kitchen again, on your feet, but still with your dick in Joy's butt. She's on her back on the table once again.

"So… Heather?" you ask.

"Last master's college roommate. And no, I don't know why her elbows are so crusty. She says the baby powder helps, but it doesn't."

"And Anya?"

"Last master. She's immortal now."

"I gathered. Why?"

"She wished for immortality like a dipshit."

"No, why did you take us there?"

"It was the first top bunk I could think of. I didn't think it would be a big deal since I've already had so much sex up there with my last master, Heather, and the harem of anime boys they shared."

"Anime boys?"

Joy's butt plug appears in her hand just as your dick goes soft enough to fall out of her ass on its own, and Joy pops it in, holding in what seems to be an unusually large amount of your cum. "Yeah, my last master was a big ol' weeb. I didn't expect to like it, but two-dimensional cock is actually pretty cool. Strangely, it works. They were all such gentlemen, too."

Options:

Holy shit! Wish for your own harem of anime boys!

Wait, wait. Girls. Wish for an anime girl harem.

Go back and figure out Heather's question (and phone number).

Wish for your old bully to know about all the sex you're having.

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Backstage Story Translation - Chikage Utsuki SSR - Today's Star: Toujou - Part 1

this is a request by taruchikas, who also provided a video of the story! tysm!

[Violin performance ends]

[Clapping]

August: You can even play this now? You really can do anything, that's amazing.

April: … They taught us the basics long ago.

August: That's true. I pretty much sucked at it, though.

April: And that's why you were excluded from this mission.

August: Is December and my mission to infiltrate the dormitory just a distraction, then?

August: December will be happy to take it easy.

April: Anyway, there are only a few weeks left till the mission. I need to be able to play a little better than this until then…

August: You're supposed to be an orchestral apprentice, aren't you?

April: Well, to put it in plain terms, yes.

April: I may not be going as a musician, but I am a student at a music school. If I can't play well enough, people will be suspicious of me should something unexpected happen.

August: You're as earnest as ever. I can really see why you were picked for this mission.

April: … I'm going out.

August: At this hour? December will be back soon, I was thinking we'd have dinner…

April: No need. I'll just grab something on the way if I get hungry.

August: … See you later.

-

Sakuya: I'd like to discuss next month’s schedule next…

Chikage: Rehearsals for the supporting character spin-offs will probably have started by then.

Sakuya: That reminds me, the poll results were announced yesterday, weren't they?

Citron: So curious to find out how they ended!

[Door opening]

Manager: Utsuki-kuuun! I've finished the tuning~!

Itaru: A violin… Guess that means it's Toujou from the Quartet play.

Sakuya: Toujou was pretty cool!

Citron: Oh, I cannot wait!

Itaru: What will the story be like?

Chikage: I was thinking of leaving it up to Tsuzuru if possible.

Tsuzuru: Me…?

Chikage: It's not that I’ve already thrown in the towel, or that I don't care. I simply want to act out the story Tsuzuru writes.

Tsuzuru: Thank you very much. But I still wonder what would be good…

Tsuzuru: That reminds me, there was a story you and Itaru-san talked about back during the performance.

Izumi: If I'm not mistaken… It was about Toujou and Machida's time as students?

Chikage: Ah… We did talk about that, but it was just for the sake of role building.

Masumi: But you had asked Tsuzuru to come up with first names for them. And even asked him about their age and background.

Izumi: Eh, is that true?

Itaru: Well…

Chikage: We may not have had that many scenes, but because of that we had to think about fleshing out our roles ourselves.

Tsuzuru: I also found it interesting, so expanding on that and making a story out of it might seem like a good idea.

Itaru: Can people nearing their 30s even bring out the sparkle of youth…

Chikage: It'll be quite a challenge.

Tsuzuru: Ah, there's something I'd like your opinion on… Can I include a scene where Toujou plays the violin?

Tsuzuru: I actually wanted to add a scene like that back then too, after I found out that you can play the violin.

Tsuzuru: You declined back then, so that didn't happen…

Tsuzuru: Toujou is the main character this time, so I'd like to include it if possible.

Manager: Eh, you weren't planning on playing!? I got so excited when I heard that Toujou had won that I even tuned the violin…

Citron: I'd also like to see Chikage playing the violin!

Masumi: I don’t think it’s something you should limit yourself on.

Chikage: Well, as long as we do it with finger-synching. (1)

Sakuya: Chikage-san, you’d look picture-perfect even if you just stood holding a violin!

Itaru: Ah, I have no instrument playing experience whatsoever, so I’d appreciate it if I had as few performing scenes as possible, TY.

Tsuzuru: Ehh…

Izumi: Well, we can probably do something about that during the production.

Chikage: You little…

Itaru: Teehee. (2)

Chikage: You're too old for this.

Masumi: And you're gross.

Itaru: Tough crowd.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

NOTES:

(1) pretending to play the instrument while the music plays in the background, apparently more commonly known as fingering

(2) this is てへぺろ (tehepero). he's like, winking and sticking his tongue out

[seliasvault]

Like A Rolling Stone

Looking for an escape you flee, hop on a bus, and end up in a small town, dead in the middle of Texas. Despite the temporary respite, you can't outrun what follows you for forever.

John Price/Reader - results from this poll

There’s a lot to be said about the phrase “going where the wind takes you”. Some may take it as an act of spontaneity, some may not take it literally, but you apply it to all its worth.

You bought the first bus ticket at the station, not bothering to check where it’s to, rather leaving it up to fate to decide. And it’s wound you up here.

Everything that you deem important, packed in a duffel bag, slung over your shoulder as you check into a rundown motel, located in the small town you’ve found yourself in.

You're a long way from home, if you can even call it home. You’ve longed too much for a better place to give it that name.

Hence why you’re here, miles from the city, from him. Several states further from the Big Apple, land of dreams.

Texas.

You never gave the countryside much thought, the music, the culture, it was never on your radar.

So throwing yourself into the most Texan place you could imagine was sure to be interesting.

But that was exactly what you were looking for, something fresh, to chase the bitter taste of the city away. Of your life away.

And so you check in indefinitely, it helps that the motel is a pay-as-you-go, each night you have the option to check out, to run.

If the town doesn’t suit you there’s always another bus waiting for you.

-

The room proves to be reasonable, with a single bed, a bathroom, and a dresser with a decent-sized TV.

It wasn’t modern or sparking clean by any means, but the contrast to your previous scene proved to soothe your soul. Modern is overrated anyway.

You set your duffle down on the bed and glance at the time, 4:34 pm. You decide taking a nap is the best course of action.

Daylight burns and the late afternoon turns to dusk.

By the time you wake, it’s 7:34 and the sky is void of light, safe for the moon shining just outside your window.

Back home 7:34 pm meant the start of your extensive bedtime routine. But you're not home anymore.

You grab your phone and head out to the motel office, if anyone would know the ins and outs of town it’d be a local.

You get the name of the best bar in town, the one conveniently down the street. And so you set off to walk half a mile, to the illuminated cabin-like building in the distance, as the silence of the night surrounds you.

You’ve been to bars before, but nothing quite as charming as the one you find yourself in now, barstools made of what looks like hand-crafted woodwork, the entire bartop made the same, as are the tables and booths.

Everything in this town seems to hold a flame of nostalgia to it, a sense of well-loved wear, and you're sure if you were here a year ago you might’ve found it distasteful but you can’t help but admire it now.

You’re sat in the corner, nursing a drink in hand as you survey the room, you feel light, alone but not lonely.

Men with those stereotypical cowboy hats, and people dressed in boots you’d only ever see here. You'd feel out of place if it weren't for the fact no one seemed to bat an eye.

It wasn’t crowded, a few groups of people at the tables, you and another man at the bar.

Overlooking the bar, peering into the lives of the locals; who seem to be native to the town, you wonder what it would be like to grow up here, have a little part of the world to call your own.

A little envious but you felt at ease, a feeling you hadn't felt in the past six months you've spent trying to figure your life out, you wanted this feeling to wrap itself around you, encompass you, embed itself within you, undo the knots of the past 4 weeks.

Lost in the thought you didn't notice the only other man at the bar move until he clears his throat, somehow now on the stool next to you.

You’re more spaced out than you thought.

“You're new around here aren’t you?” His voice is gruff like he’s burnt his throat from years of smoking.

He’s dressed like everyone else here, a signature hat atop his head and a brown leather jacket.

His accent however separates him from the rest, it’s not the usual country accent you’re accustomed to around here, there’s an edge to it, almost British. He sounds like a man who’s stayed too long.

“That’s a real cliche thing to say.” You laugh, swirling your drink in your glass.

“But I bet you aren’t from around here either.” You finally meet his eyes.

“Been here long enough to feel like I am.” He sips on what looks to be straight whisky.

“And how long is that?” You counter.

“ ‘bout 16 years.” He takes a sip. Your eyes follow his throat as he swallows.

You hum in acknowledgment.

“And how ‘bout you?” He looks at you attentively. Like every word you spew, he’ll memorize.

“First day actually.” You laugh a little.

“So not as much experience as you.” You add on.

“You’re gettin’ there.” His eyes crinkle.

“Oh yeah-” You glance at your imaginary watch.

“Just a couple more minutes and I’ll be rivaling you.”

“Yeah? Guess we’ll have to go toe to toe on the bull right there.” He looks over in the direction of the large mechanical bull resisting in the corner.

It’s worn just like everything else, tearing at the seams. And it seems like you missed it when you scanned the area.

“How did I not see that?” You stand up, to get a better look. You're in somewhat awe, only having seen it on late-night sitcoms growing up.

“Does it work?” You inquire.

“I’d hope it does, but haven’t seen anyone use it in years.” He’s turned now in his chair, facing toward where you’re looking.

“Haven’t seen one of those before, have you.” It’s supposed to be a question, but sounds more like a statement. Like he’s already looked right through you, knows you.

“No, only seen ‘em on those cheesy sitcoms, they’re not too common where I’m from.” You’ve turned your head to look back at him, opting now to move back to your seat.

You take another sip of your drink.

He hums, his eyes seem like they pierce through you.

“And where’s that?”

“The big ol’ apple.” Your tone is flat, discontent. Even the thought makes your stomach turn with anxiety.

“Not a fan?” He questioned.

“No-well I mean the city’s great, it’s just-life y’know?” You stumble out.

“The people- things were great when I first moved, but the last couple months-” You exhale.

“I’m just here for a break.” You finally finish, you think that was too much of an overshare, but the way he looked at you felt like it wasn’t.

You're not sure you’ve ever met someone who conveyed so much emotion with a simple look. Maybe it’s a country thing.

“Most people would have gone to an island.” He makes sense, if someone wanted a vacation, they’d go somewhere relaxing, but this wasn’t quite a vacation.

“Don’t think I have the funds for that.” You out a huff of a laugh.

A crash sounds behind you, and you slightly flinch, head darting to look behind. Seems to be a fight of some kind, not unusual for a bar.

“S’just those muppets at it again, every night they find something to disagree about.” He says, still looking at you, observing you.

“Wouldn’t be a bar without a fight, guess that’s universal.” You take another sip, to wash away the anxiety that’s seemed to crawl its way up your throat.

You glance at your phone. 9:14 pm.

“I think it’s time I head back.” You look back up at him, your drink almost fully done.

It’d be better to get started on walking back before it gets too late, you still don’t know the town, and getting caught up with the wrong kind of people was something you wanted to especially avoid.

“I’ll walk you out.” He still has about half of his drink left, but he goes to stand nonetheless.

“Oh no you don’t have to-” You start, not wanting to inconvenience him, he reads straight through you.

“Nonsense, come on.” You get up after him

You both walk together, comfortable space between you. When you reach outside you turn toward him.

Stars are the only source of light aside from the sparse dim-litted streetlights, his face half illuminated in the light.

“Thanks for walking me out.” You briefly look down, unable to maintain his gaze. People here seem to love unwavering eye contact, and you find his for some reason especially hard.

“It’s not a problem.” He dips his head down, and you laugh, something you’d only see in movies.

He smiles, and you give one in return, leaving it at that you make your way back to your motel.

When you hit your bed, practically collapsing on it, sleep comes to you surprisingly easily, and you sleep better than you’ve had in weeks.

[nilsavatar]

PHOENIX | CHAPTER 3 SNEAK PEEK

Hello beautiful people! In the poll a few days ago, two options got the same percentage. So here fulfilled the first request: a small sneak peek of the third chapter! (not edited yet)

I take this opportunity to thank you once again for the likes, reblogs, and comments. I really appreciate it, you push me to continue. Unfortunately, the wait may still be long, but I am on the right track. The chapter writing is almost completed and I will start editing soon. I hope to be able to publish this long-suffering third chapter by the end of next week.

Mi’niri took refuge in the most isolated spot in the clearing, hidden from unwelcome glances. She was sitting on a large root, in the shade of the broad, iridescent eyaye leaves. Shimmering drops of nectar released an enveloping fragrance that invaded the space, spreading in graceful invisible waves with each flick of the foraging birds’ wings. Convinced that she was finally alone, she let out a silent, liberating cry; frustration and suffering now mastered that normally unflappable candied face. 

“You look tired.” Someone sat by her side, running his warm palm between her shoulder blades, down her back, and then up the back of her neck, massaging her gently. Strangely, she did not flinch, as if expecting that attention. As if she knew she would find him there.
 The stranger didn’t speak, said nothing so as not to upset her further, and let her vent. With her, words were often superfluous, creating distance, forcing her to give meaning to an inner flow that she preferred to keep her own; she wasn’t temperamentally inclined to sharing, preferring to handle the emotions she felt in her own way, in the intimacy of herself. Although it was, in most cases, deleterious and exhausting; gripped by regrets, unexpressed desires, and, on this specific occasion, even some remorse.
 

A feather hovered in the air, gliding lightly in the open palm of the boy. He then turned it over in his fingers, studying its cyan-greenish veins that divided it into tiny sections. A few brown flecks mottled it at the edges, although the fuchsia of the tip was predominant and in sharp contrast to the white of the base. He arranged the stem behind Mi’niri’s ear along with a strand of her hair, exposing the delicate profile of her face, the pale right cheek, and the high cheekbone, accentuating the elongated slit of her eyes. He contemplated how much the feather colors complimented her face. 

She was ashamed of her appearance, the mark of an outcast life, but to the boy, it was beautiful. It made her one of a kind. Her complexion could have been even in the humans’ range; in his eyes, Mi’niri would have been the most beautiful girl in Eywa’eveng anyway.

“Eventually, you’ll have to talk about it.”

She looked up at him, her bulbs swollen, flushed, and glowing. A rosy tinge of shame crossed her cheeks and nose, and the young man wondered what the source of that sad expression was. The villainy with which she had pressed Kiokä by venting her dissatisfactions on him? The exposure of his secret love? His gesture? 

He smiled at the idea, but it was but a lukewarm smile, a mockery, all too aware that nothing he said or did would have any effect. Kiokä probably could have disappeared, and she would not have noticed.


“I was cruel before,” was the first thing she said since they had reached there, at the foot of that majestic tree, her voice croaking from crying. He could do nothing but sigh, the facts commenting on themselves. “What’s wrong with me?”
 “Nothing is wrong with you.” 
“Then why am I like this?”


He hesitated for a moment before answering. But by now, dabbing the wound had become useless. Sometimes you need to leave it open and exposed to the sun for it to heal from the infection.  “Because you can’t resign yourself,” he sentenced laconically, “I understand, you know? I’m in the same situation as you,” he sketched a wry grin, “I’ve always let others define me, choose for me. To tell me how I should have been, what I should have done.” 

The wrinkled look he gave her was so sad and dark, she felt as if she had looked out into two gloomy mirrored wells that opened a pathway to the depths of the underworld. There was nothing left of his bravado and amusing conceit, not even an iota. They were totally absent in that amber eye. And on that suddenly apathetic face, even the shadow of his usual cheeky, crafty smirk had disappeared. “They had to shoot me for them to realize how hard they had been on me.” 


Mi’niri winced in pain at that confession and looked away, feeling suddenly exposed, naked. “Did you ever think of telling them?”
 He chuckled, widening his legs out on the bed of leaves and stretching his body backward to fill himself with the golden warmth of the foliage above their heads. “At least a million times,” he admitted, “Once I even had the urge to rant, amidst everyone, so exhausted was I of shouldering responsibilities that were not mine. But it probably wouldn’t have changed anything.” The boy blew out a quick sigh as he continued, “I even tried to undertake trainings so heavy that they didn’t give me the material time to look after my brothers. At least I would have the excuse. But my thoughts always came back to them and together with them also an excruciating guilt. I’m the older brother. It’s my job to stand in for our parents.”
“That’s not true. You are young, exactly like them. It’s not your place to educate them.” 

It wasn’t part of her personality to dispense advice, still, she felt the burden of having to do so; to at least try to console him as he had done with her countless times, including this one. It was funny to talk to each other like that with a stranger whom moreover she met only in her dreams and whose name she did not even know.  Confronting each other about the injustices that had plagued them from an early age, as if they had shared them as if they had always been there to back each other up.

“When are you going to tell me who you are?”

He turned again to look at her, the eyes that were staring at her at that moment, and that the faint sunlight filtering through the foliage dotted with golden straws, differed from they had been a moment ago: tremendously confident and determined, the same ones she used to meet. The girl clutched her shoulders, prey to an unmotivated anxiety that sprang directly from her gut, from her core. As if the young man who sat beside her had unexpectedly changed before her without her being able to do anything to prevent it. He looked so different, so adult and distant, yet so close, and for a second he seemed unrecognizable to her. 
 He took her hand and brought it to his chest. When her petite palm collided with his pectoral, she could feel beneath the scar of the gunshot, beneath the warmth of his skin, the accelerated, almost frightened beat of the heart muscle. 

“I’m already doing it.” 

At those words, Mi’niri clenched her fingers tighter, so tightly that her nails rubbed the outline of the healed wound. And, for an instant, it felt as if she had squeezed his heart for real.

[allylikethecat]

i had to do an errand that required me to drive into the rural part of my city and i saw horses in a field and immediately started thinking about atkh… i’m suffering from the worst brainrot..(in the best way possible ;))

anyway talk shop tuesday!!

when you dont ask us which fic we want in a poll, how do you decide which fic you post?? i assume some fics are just farther along in your notes but do you update multiple fics at once or do you choose ahead of time which one you’re gonna post and then just focus on writing for that one??

-🥤

Hello My Dear Smoothie Anon!!

If it makes you feel any better, I am twenty eight years old, I own a horse, I typically see him 5-6 days a week, most of my friends also own horses, some who have them in their back yards, and I also live in a very "horsie" area so I see them literally all the time I spent SO MUCH TIME with horses its ridiculous. HOWEVER without fail, I do excitedly announce / shout HORSIE whenever I'm driving and see one out in the world, which is always extremely jarring to whoever is with me when they aren't expecting it lol So like, I get it 😂 I hope you enjoy Friday's update! I know I am excited about it!

Happy Talk Shop Tuesday! Now onto your question now that I got my horse fan-girling out of the way lol

It's kind of a mix, I usually try to work on each fic a little bit here and there (that way I don't get burnt out on any of them) but obviously sometimes I pull further ahead in one. When I don't do a poll it's usually because I've realized I haven't updated one in a while, and I have an update either ready or almost ready. For example, before today the most recent update to Ducklings had been March 26th so I was like shit- I should probably update that one it's been a month lol Now that today's Ducklings chapter has been posted, I'm pretty much in the same spot with all the fics in the poll (other than All the King's Horses that one is actually nearly completed, I however have two different possible endings mapped out for that one and I need to decide which one to follow - and I'm planning on using the feedback on the next few chapters to make that decision so it's extra important for y'all to tell me what you think lol!) SO I figured I would open it up and see which one y'all were interested in next because as much as I love writing and do it for myself, it is fun when people read it and enjoy it, and I do like to take that into consideration. If I hadn't done a poll, it would have been the next chapter of The Birthday fic purely because that one was updated the longest ago now (other than You Know Where the City Is but that one is currently hurting me so an update will be slower lol) I hope this makes sense!!

Thank you so much for being so wonderful and sending this ask and reading and being so supportive! I always get a smile when I see that Smoothie Anon has appeared in my inbox! Thank you so much! I hope your Tuesday was lovely and that you have a wonderful week!

❤️Ally

[marveloussupernerd]

Okay. So I just watched the Hunger Games and was wondering what the RFA+V+Searans reaction would be to MC having to fight in the games? That would be so scary and sad.

I LOVE THIS REQUEST also I’m adding Vanderwood too oops

You Get Picked for the Hunger Games - RFA + Minor Trio

Important Note: if you’d like any of these written in a more in-depth one or two shot I’m begging you to request it I love this prompt so much. That’s why I didn’t write about the actual games happening :) hoping maybe someone may want a pt2 of any of these

Warnings: mentions of death, killing, a lil angst

Zen

You were in District 7, the lumber district

You and Zen had been together for years

You liked to spend time in the forests together, getting a little peace from the real world

More aptly out, you liked to climb the trees together and spend the day in them; you would all day if you didn’t have to go home to help with your younger siblings

“I’m so sick of the games,” you grumbled. The reaping was today, where the tributes would be picked. “At least its our last year in the poll to be picked.”

“Thank goodness.” He agreed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your lips. “Then we can finally get married and start a family.”

You giggled. “We have to take care of my siblings too”

He shrugged. He’d do anything for you

When they picked you, your heart stopped

Nobody volunteered; they usually didn’t in 7

As the lady went to pick for the boys, you scanned the crowd for Zen

Shaking your head vigorously. He couldn’t volunteer

You felt like you were going to cry or die of anticipation

He understood

It killed him inside but he didn’t volunteer

You got to meet with him to say goodbye before you were off to the Capitol

“Zen,” you whimpered. He pulled you in for a tight hug

“Take care of my siblings. Okay?”

He nodded. He was at a loss of words for the first time ever

Then he inhaled deeply, fishing in his pockets and pulling out a small copper band

“Put this on and we’re married. I don’t care if that’s not how it works. I can’t have you leave without marrying you first.”

You took it wordlessly

“Your family is mine now. I’ll take care of them. You focus on coming back home.”

You wanted to cry. “Don’t... don’t let them watch me die, Zen.”

“You’re not going to.” He was crying now too, despite the confidence in his words

“Promise me though. If I’m going to die don’t let them watch.”

He sighed. He didn’t want to even consider that

“I won’t.”

Yoosung

You were in district 11, the agriculture district

Yoosung’s family lived on the farm next to yours

You had been close friends your whole lives

When they picked you

Well, you had put your name in a few extra times to get more food for your family

It shouldn’t have been a surprise

Nobody volunteered. They never do.

They made you sit in a room while you waited for the train

Your family could come say goodbye if they wanted

You were surprised to see Yoosung

“This wasn’t supposed to happen” was all he could say

You frowned

You weren’t confident in your chances

“I- everything was supposed to be different. I was going to tell you I loved you,” he whispered, his voice so low you had to take a minute to process what he had said

“You do?” You asked

“I do. First Rika and now you? I- I can’t...”

Rika had been picked two games ago and was killed

“I’ll just have to win then,” you said, more determined than before

“You- oh?”

“I love you too Yoosung. I’ll just have to win for you. So you don’t have to lose us both.”

He wrapped you into a hug

“I’m holding you to that. You promise me you’ll come back to my arms safely.”

You chuckled. “Okay. I promise.”

Jaehee

You lived in district 6, the transportation district

It was no secret to those in your district that you and Jaehee loved each other, as more than friends

It was nice that you lived in such a progressive district that they understood that

Volunteering wasn’t normal in district 6

But when you heard them call Jaehee’s name...

You wouldn’t let her die in the games

“I volunteer as Tribute.”

The crowd was silent

They all knew

The Peacekeepers pushed Jaehee back into the crowds, escorting you to the stage

She was sobbing

And then she passed out

“A volunteer! How exciting. Why did you volunteer for that girl?” The lady asked you

“Because I’m in love with her.”

“Oh!”

The Capitol would eat that up

You didn’t even get to say goodbye to her

The Capitol wanted a show. And the show was better if you didn’t get to say goodbye

“So you have to win then. Win and go back to her and steal her heart. Her hero. Her savior,” Caesar had said in his interview with you

You’d have to win then

Jumin

Being from district 3, the electronics district, meant that you and your families were much better off than most other districts

Jumin came from one of the wealthiest families in the district

He probably was even more wealthy than some of the people in the Capitol

He could buy anything, right?

But he couldn’t buy you a ticket out of the games

“Listen to me.” He sat down across from you, as he met with you before you had to leave to head to the Capitol for the games. “You’ll win.”

“I- how?”

He had the smallest curve of a smile on his face. He was confident.

“I’ll sponsor you. Anything you need, you just say it. I’ll buy it and send it your way.”

It was true that district members could sponsor, they just usually didnt

But this time, he was invested

“I have a list of all the things I can send you. Food, water, medicine, bandages, weapons, rope, anything you want. I can even send you a teddy bear.”

“Please don’t send me a teddy bear. Only important things. Those are expensive.”

“I have money.” He cupped your cheek. “I’m going to make sure you win. I will do anything in my power to do so. If I go broke, okay. You’re so much more important than money.”

“I’ll try my best to make sure I don’t need to ask you for things.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so stubborn. Let me help you. Don’t get into fights intentionally. Just outlive the others. I’ll send you food every day for weeks if it’s what it takes.”

It was time for you to go

He pulled you into a quick, heated kiss. “Anything, My Love. I promise.”

707

You were from district 5, the power district

The games were not big in your district. You had a few victors but people mostly dreaded them

So it wasn’t surprising that when you were picked nobody volunteered

There was no way you could win

You were weak. You had seen the other tributes picked in district 1 and 2 today

You were lucky if you’d survive the first day

You had zoned out the rest of the Reaping ceremony

Until...

“I volunteer as tribute!”

He didn’t.

But he had

Once you both got on the train, you were ready to confront him

“Seven!” You yelled. “Why! Why?” You were hitting his chest. You were so mad at him. “Why would you do this?”

You were breaking down

He just pulled you close, hugging you

“I’m going to make sure you survive”

There could only be one victor

He knew that though. Didn’t he?

“My home life sucks anyways. Sacrificing my life for you is the best thing I could ever wish for.”

You were sobbing. He seemed oddly okay.

He would make sure you’d survive

V

You were from district 8, the textile district

V’s work with the textiles and art was so good that once he had passed the age where he would have been pulled for the hunger games, he was invited to the Capitol to be a stylist

You thought you’d never see him again

Until you were picked

And then there he was

With his hair dyed bright blue to fit in with the people at the Capitol

A stupid smile on his face as he got scissors to start shaping your hair for the event tonight

“You seem awfully happy,” you said smugly. You were going to die and he was grinning. He had become a stupid member of the Capitol after all

“I get to see you again.”

“I’m going to die,” you said simply

He shrugged.

Just shrugged.

“I actually have a plan.”

Oh?

He leaned close to you to whisper in your ear

If anyone found out, they’d have him killed

“I have a way for everyone to think you died in the games, but for you to stay living”

It was a big risk

But you wouldn’t say no to the chance of staying alive

Of course he wasn’t upset

He had a plan.

Saeran

You were from district 2, the weaponry district

District 2 was a part of a group called the careers in the hunger games

Basically districts 1, 2, and 4 trained their teenagers to enter the games and win

They were unstoppable

You had trained as well, of course

But you weren’t like some of your crazy classmates who wanted to enter the games

They wanted to enter, until they heard about the twist for this year’s games

Every 25 years there was a special twist to make it more interesting

Every 3 hours a tribute would be randomly killed off

More aptly out, they put a bomb mechanism inside you and you explode

You couldn’t train to beat that

So it was no surprise that nobody volunteered to take your place once your name was picked

Saeran was fuming when he met with you

He had been training to become one of the Capitol’s soldiers, a Peacekeeper, as most men in 2 did

But he had lost all respect for them and the game

“This is stupid and unfair. What’s the point of them randomly killing people off? It’s supposed to be a fight to the death. This is just random chance.”

“I agree with you. But there’s nothing we can do. I’ll just try to kill people as quick as possible before they even get to explode someone.”

“No.”

“No?” You questioned

“This is bullshit.” He grabbed you by the chin to look up at him. “I’m taking down the Capitol. They can’t do this to you?”

“Saeran, don’t.”

He had an evil grin

“I already have a group to do it with.”

Vanderwood

You were from district 12, the coal mining district

Vanderwood was always a sort of enigma to you

That’s why you were so interested in him

And he was absolutely infatuated with you

Nobody had ever volunteered in 12 before

So when you got picked, you were stuck

Vanderwood didn’t volunteer. Why would he? Why would he get himself killed like that?

You almost though he wasn’t going to visit you, that all your time together was just him messing around

And then he busted in

“Hurry Babe”

“Hurry what?” You questioned

He grabbed your arm and pulled you to follow him, running through the halls. Where were the peacekeepers?

“I’m getting you out of here. We’re running away”

“To where?”

He laughed, still running. “The woods. We’ll figure it out. We’re not following those bullshit rules.”

“If we get caught, we’ll be killed.” You were afraid to defy the Capitol

“If you stay there, you’re as good as dread. We’ve had one victor from here, yknow? Your chances aren’t good. Let’s run.”

[cheeriecherry]

Birds Of A Feather [2/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: like, one swear

Part 2/7

It’s been a week since you started your new position at Hawks’ hero agency. It’s a nice workplace, very accommodating for the staff, and the sidekicks and interns you work with are friendly and sociable. But there’s still a little piece of you that’s bitter.

You appreciated the job, especially when you discovered what your monthly paycheck would be, but the whole place was just so damn...busy. If you’d known that you’d maintain your hectic lifestyle after moving to Japan, you never would’ve come in the first place.

On top of that, despite your presence being requested by the man himself, you’d yet to actually meet your new boss. Not a conversation, a text, a simple hello, or even a red feather. At this point, you were wondering if the guy even existed.

You decide to mull it over some more on your afternoon lunch hour. You find your usual seat in the staff lounge, and pull out a container of chicken curry.

“Hey Y/N! Hawks says he wants to see you in his office!”

You pause with a forkful of food halfway to your mouth, glancing over at the young sidekick who’d just bounced in. “Can it wait until after lunch?” you ask, hoping to at least finish your meal before dealing with whatever you were wanted for.

The sidekick looks sympathetic. “Sorry,” she says, “but I don’t think so. He asked me to tell you to bring your food…”

You sigh deeply, but thank her for passing the information on. Don’t shoot the messenger, and all that. You begrudgingly pack your things back up and bid farewell to the few people in the room, all of which are ominously quiet.

That didn’t bode well.

----

A few minutes later finds you outside Hawks’ office, balancing your lunch container in one hand while you knock on his doorframe with the other.

His door is wide open, and you can see him sitting at his desk, facing the window and the view of the city. He probably knew you were there before you knocked, but there was no harm in being polite… though he might appreciate the humour of you walking in like you owned the place.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?”

He spins around in his chair, a charming smile gracing his features. You wonder idly if he’d planned that little spiel, and if so, how long he’d been sitting like that for.

“That I did, chickadee! Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable, eat with me.”

You do as you’re asked.

“Sorry for not seeing to you sooner. It’s been such a busy week, villains and disasters all over the place. I swear, I’ve been to every end of the country.”

You sit tidily on the chair, legs crossed and wings tucked up neatly behind you.

“I understand,” you tell him, “you’re number two, after all. You’re in high demand.”

Hawks smiles wider, but you get the feeling it’s lacking some genuity. You don’t call him out on it, though.

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, slouching back a little. “I looked into you a bit before I hired you, y’know? Gotta make sure you had a good track record, blah blah, PR crap, blah, anyways. The reports said you were a pretty easygoing person. I’m glad they were right!”

You pray he doesn’t notice the slight ruffle of your feathers. Easygoing? Is that what people thought of you? You supposed there were worse things to be known for, but you? Easygoing? Maybe you’d become an actress if the whole hero gig didn’t work out for you, if you’d fooled that many people.

Easygoing. Yeah right. Burnt out, exhausted, apathetic, those were all accurate descriptors. But fucking easygoing?! Hah.

“Hey, you alright, kid?”

You’re about to ask him what he means, to tell him you’re fine and completely unbothered, but your stomach has other plans. Right when you open your mouth to speak, a loud growl interrupts you, aggressively sounding in the quiet of the room.

His grin softens a bit, a touch more kindness apparent on his face. He’s concerned.

“I didn’t mean to take your lunch hour away,” he apologizes, “I had actually wanted to catch you earlier today, but you were on patrol. I figured it wouldn’t be very cool of me to approach you and get swarmed by fans. Not productive for conversation, that.”

You shrug. “I haven’t taken it personally.” In fact, you hadn’t taken it at all. He could have never spoken to you ever, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. You were here to do your job, and anything else was an unguaranteed bonus.

“Anyways,” he pulls out a paper bucket of what looks like KFC, and pops the lid off, “eat up. Don’t need my favourite employee dropping out of the sky from exhaustion.”

He digs into his own food, and you take yours out.

“If exhaustion could do me in, I would have fallen out of the sky a long time ago,” you mumble, immediately afterwards spooning food into your face.

Hawks bites off a small piece of chicken. “Whadya mean?” And you curse yourself for forgetting he’s sensitive to sound.

You chew your food pensively, making sure to swallow before you speak (unlike him…). “It’s like. Okay. Wing quirks are pretty rare where I’m from, yeah? In my old job, I was the only airborne hero for five hundred kilometers. I got called all over the place, back and forth, never in one place for very long, almost never at home in my own bed. I was sort of...uh…”

“Spread thing?” he supplies.

You nod. “Spread thin. It wasn’t healthy for me. Anywhere that makes you grow to hate your own quirk can’t possibly be good for you.”

“Now hold up, chickadee,” he interrupts, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the desk. His eyes are wide and surprised, like he’s unable to fathom your words. “How could you possibly hate your own quirk?”

You think for a moment. “Hate is maybe a strong word,” you admit, “but there’s definitely some contempt there. Flying used to be my favourite passtime, y’know? The views, the wind, the sun, the silence. And then one day I woke up and thought ‘god, I hope they don’t make me fly today’.”

Hawks picks a little at his lunch, but is far to engrossed in your tale to pay much attention to it.

“Yikes,” he says.

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment before you start speaking again.

“Two weeks after that happened, I moved here. Figured a change might be nice, good for my head, or whatever.”

“And how’s that working out?”

“I still hate flying.”

The conversation ebbs and flows after that, with Hawks not supplying much personal insight on the matter, despite you just spilling your guts to him. You don’t mind, though, and he doesn’t strike you as the kind of person to open up very easily. You probably would have been more disgruntled if he’d offered you some kind of similar story.

The two of you talk a little about work, what your old agency was like, where you went to school, and the questions centered around your life, and none prying into his. You make note of that, and file it away for later.

By the end of the hour, you’re sufficiently full of chicken curry, and your boss looks like he’s fairing the same (you’re not sure how he managed to pack away an entire bucket for fried chicken by himself).

“Thanks for lunch, Boss,” you tell him with a smile, an unspoken ‘it was kind of weird’ in your tone. If he picks up on it, he doesn’t say anything.

He does, however, stop you at the door, tugging you back into the room by your collar with a single red feather.

“Say, chickadee,” his voice is coy, “how’s about we make the afternoon more fun?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Come patrolling with me,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“Flying’s more fun when you’re not alone!” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You doubt him, thinking back to all the times you’d ever flown with someone else (re: none). You relent, deciding to entertain his plan.

“Fine. But don’t fall behind, okay? I take my patrols seriously.”

The strange smile returns to his face.

----

After packing up your dishes and throwing away your trash, you follow Hawks to the stairwell. He said it was best to take off from the roof, if you didn’t want to get bombarded by fans.

“Ah, but I’m sure your fans would love to see you!” you tease, marching carefully up the steps. “It wouldn’t take too long, surely?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, pausing so suddenly that you almost get a faceful of his feathers.

“Well sure, if they were just my fans. Most people have seen me before, though, flying around, fighting crime. But you? You’re new. Your fans in Japan haven’t gotten to meet you yet.”

You tilt your head. “I...don’t have fans, boss.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He swivels around on the step, wings brushing quietly against the cramped cement walls. His expression is one of exasperation, and a hint of disbelief. Once he sees your genuine confusion, however, he sighs. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You shake your head. “I’ve only been here like two weeks. How could I have any significant following?”

He looks at you with a fondness reserved for naive children, or puppies. It’s a little patronizing, in your opinion.

“International heroes are pretty big here, you know?” he explains, “and you, little chickadee, were voted number four on the overseas popularity poll this year. Your fanbase here is rivaled only by a handful of heroes, most of which are in Japan’s top ten.”

You’re shocked, to say the least, and Hawks takes your silence as cue to continue walking.

You dodge his wings again, and resume following him.

“How could I be popular and not know it?” you ask. “Surely someone would have approached me by now-”

“Chickadee, when was the last time you were on the ground-”

“This morning-”

“-in the daytime?”

“Oh.”

You think back a little. You’ve patrolled in the skies since you started working at the agency, and your shifts started before sunrise. Plus, you usually flew home, well after sunset. It was just easier than trying to fit into a car and deal with traffic.

“I guess...not since the day I arrived.”

“Exactly! No one knew you were here, then. But now?” He pushes hard against the heavy metal door to the roof, taking a deep breath when it opens and a breeze blows through. “Now, all of Japan knows we work together!”

You saunter out into the sunlight, basking for a few seconds in the warmth. But the thought of your fans quickly overtakes your mind again, and the relaxation is lost.

“Are you sure it’s not fame by affiliation,” you wonder, “because seriously, I didn’t have fans back home. I’ve never been stopped for an autograph, or asked for a photo. I’m cool with that. I just don’t want people to like me because I’m near you sometimes.”

Hawks steps up on the lip of the roof, wings spread wide and overlooking the city.

He stays like that for a few seconds, and you note the deep tiredness in his posture, behind his eyes. You’ve seen it in your mirror too many times.

He’s just as exhausted as you are.

“Thus is the way of the world,” he mumbles, and you’re not sure you’re meant to hear it.

But then he perks up, as quickly as a light switch. He turns on his heel to face you, mischief and playfulness glinting in his smile. “I’ll race you to the bank tower? If I win, you gotta go on patrol with me tomorrow, too.”

You shrug, and take off into the sky. It’s not much of a fight, though. He has agility and familiarity on his side, and he’s waiting for you by the time you finally arrive at your destination.

You don’t mind.

[harryandmolly]

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *6*

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, not all fluff is fluffy (ya feel?), a chapter pic that walked into my hands and curled up and fell asleep

wc: 3.7k

---------

Lilly’s eyes slide shut. There’s no fighting it now, not when he’s kissing her throat like this, mouthing at her like a melting ice cream cone.

She kind of feels like one. It’s summer in Southern California, even though it’s May. They’ve started sharing Lilly’s balcony bedroom and can’t agree on whether to keep the doors open when they sleep. She still gets weird about the bird that flew in and woke them up that one time by shitting on her yoga mat. He likes the nature sounds, though. It reminds him of Pickering even more than his place in Toronto does. They’re not actually secluded out here but it feels like it sometimes, in a nice way. 

It also doesn’t help, he supposes, that every mosquito in LA county finds a way to get under their sheets and bite her, and only her, when they leave a door or window open for airflow. He tells her it’s because she’s so sweet. She swears at him.

She won the battle last night, so the doors and windows are closed. The air is stagnant. In such an old house, the central air isn’t great. They’ve kicked all their sheets off and are down to their underwear. He likes the way her skin tastes a little salty-sweaty. 

He’s not after anything other than holding her. In the few weeks since they’ve started back up again, their sex life has been borderline out of control. Shawn is chalking it up to lost time.

He likes the way she sighs and slips her fingers into his hair like she’s resigned to his attentions. He keeps his hands north of her underwear, conscious of not making her feel like she’s merely an outlet. He’s just… happy. He could count on two hands the number of nights they got to sleep in the same bed before they broke up. This is the height of luxury for him.

Shawn murmurs contentedly into the column of her neck. “Your skin’s so soft,” he whispers, skimming his nose beneath her jaw, “How do you get it like that?”

She giggles. He’s on fire, pleasantly burning.

“You saw my truckload of sheet masks. They’re not for decoration.”

Shawn pulls his head up, flipping his curls out of his eyes. He overdoes it, still used to having a lot more hair than he does now. She smooths it away for him.

“I’ve been bad lately,” he confesses, wrinkling his nose, “I ran out of the stuff Anna gave me like a month ago. And I do sheet masks a lot more when we’re touring, being on the bus and shit.”

Lilly looks crestfallen. Shawn lifts his brows in question.

“The only reason I’m in bed with you is to steal your outrageously expensive skincare.”

Her convincingly innocent expression goes impish so fast he’s glad he didn’t blink. He grunts and skims his teeth against her jaw as he laughs, swatting at her ass.

“Are you gonna share your masks or what?”

Ten minutes later, he has one of her terrycloth headbands pushing his hair back and Lilly almost sitting on his bare chest as she carefully presses the slick sheet to his face. She taught him how to make little cuts along the forehead, eyes, lips and jaw to fit it to your face best. It’s still too small for his giant head, but Lilly’s determined.

“There,” she declares, scooting back over his ribs. Shawn lifts his hands to her thighs, rubbing them softly as he watches her apply her own, expertly snipping the center of her nose flap to fold it up and out of the way of her piercing.

Shawn shuts his eyes and lulls himself further into this intoxicating calm with her.

“What’re these supposed to do?”

“Brighten, boost collagen, support cell turnover.”

Lilly flops on her back beside him. She nestles into the sheets and groans like they haven’t been lying in bed all day. She sneaks her fingers in between his. His nose twitches as he tries not to smile and fuck up his mask.

He rubs his thumb against the back of her hand.

Her whisper is quiet, strained. “Stop making me smile, you’re going to fuck up my mask.”

+

It’s Shawn’s turn to make breakfast. So, eggs.

Lilly swings her legs against the counter as she sits across from him, curating a playlist because you know when you just wake up and it’s a Beach Boys morning?

Apparently it’s a Beach Boys morning. Shawn has no arguments. Even if he did, he’s too distracted to voice them. It’s arriving today, all of it. As much of a professional recording studio as can be packaged and very carefully, very expensively delivered to their rental. Lilly’s been trying to keep him engaged since they woke up, they even braved taking their first masked walk around their neighborhood. Apart from the possibility of a rogue and well-hidden phone camera, he thinks they made it out without being spotted. As far as Shawn can tell, the internet thinks he’s in Toronto. He’s comfortable keeping it that way.

Turns out even aside from worming back into Lilly’s life, LA was a good idea. His team came up with a whole plan to keep him busy and keep him recording, but it would’ve been much harder to execute if he were a country away. He has Zoom sessions with producers lined up and instruments being tracked at other home studios, all the ones he can’t do himself, anyway. Now he just needs the equipment.

Shawn is folding spinach, mushrooms and onion into what he hopes is omelet-shaped eggs, kind of, sort of, when his phone buzzes hard against the granite.

“Ohmygodthey’rehere,” he hisses, barreling toward the front door without shutting off the burners, leaving Lilly swearing at him in his wake.

The proceeding half hour of large, larger, and largest Pelican cases being hauled into the living room is torture. It’s like if you had to watch your mum and dad bring all the presents from downstairs and stack them strategically under the Christmas tree before you got to rip them open. Once the delivery guys leave, they spend another half hour wiping down every square inch of the case surfaces with Clorox and taking stock of the equipment.

Shawn looks to Lilly, pained and squirming. She snorts.

“Go for it, champ.”

Shawn descends, Lilly close behind him. In another two hours, they spread everything out on the floor in relative chaos and exhaust themselves to the point of near panic.

Shawn scrapes his hands over his face and into his hair, grabbing at it to ground himself. “We just… I dunno, we gotta call Andrew or Teddy or somebody, we can’t do this alone, it’s too much.”

Lilly sits on her knees in front of a case full of long polls on stands that he can’t remember the name of. She makes a sour face and her high ponytail bobs against her cheek. His stupid sentimental heart swells.

“I hate it when you make me the positive one. Shawn, it’s fine. We need food, we need coffee, we need a strategy, this is fine. This is fine!” Her pitch rises noticeably at the end of her short pep talk. It’s distractingly anxious.

Shawn looks around hopelessly at the thousands of dollars of equipment strewn across the living room floor until she drags him by the wrist into the kitchen. They pass on their now sad and definitely burnt omelet and order from Eggslut, promising each other that they’ll have Sweetgreen salads for dinner.

Back on the floor, barefoot and hungry, they toss ideas back and forth between bites of brioche egg sandwiches. By the time the tater tots are gone, Shawn is off the ledge, coaxed slowly and with care (and carbs). 

The plan is, essentially, a giant blanket fort. Since the living room is at the back of the house away from the street and the pool, it’s nice and quiet, but they need absolute silence for a clean track. They scout out a cozy corner, working around the baby grand, with enough room for the mics and recording equipment, plus a couch for Lilly if she promises to be very quiet.

“Ok so if we get the C-stands up around eight and a half feet, that should clear the mics,” Lilly declares, dragging sound-deadening furni pads out of another case.

Shawn’s head falls back. “C-stand. That’s it. Shit, I couldn’t come up with it earlier.”

Lilly winks and begins sorting them by size. Shawn turns to a case of C-stands and plucks one from a folded bunch. Within 25 seconds, he’s struggling, kicking at the legs and turning dials that don’t seem to do shit.

Lilly’s little hands appear in his view as she gently handles it, demonstrating the way the legs swing out and the stand rises. 

“You’re so handy,” he praises teasingly, slipping his fingers between hers. She willingly releases the stand and slides around behind him, shrugging her arms around his stomach. He tries to peer at her over his shoulder and wonders if she can feel the way his pulse increases.

“Sorry, did you say ‘handsy?’” she murmurs, pushing her fingers beneath the elastic of his gym shorts. He holds his breath, muscles tensing everywhere. Just as soon as she’s there, suddenly she’s gone, nibbling away at his shoulder blade as he whistles an exhale through his nose. He chuckles and turns in her arms.

“Guess I gotta be the brains and the braun on this one,” Lilly says, lifting onto her toes and pecking his lips. Shawn grunts, looking to hold her a little longer, but she squirms away.

Lilly got her Beach Boys after all, on the house speakers at an almost egregious volume. They continue working, stringing up furni pad “walls” on C-stands and gathering extra throws and rugs from around the house. The problem is the fort’s ceiling.

“We can suspend them from the chandelier, as long as some of the weight still rests on the walls. But how do we get up there, can you reach? No. Wait-- no, no, is there a ladder? There has to be a ladder,” Lilly rants, turning circles beneath the chandelier until Shawn intervenes, catching at her arm.

“I’m your ladder.”

Lilly blinks, then squints. “Terrible plan.”

Shawn balks. “Great plan!”

“What, you’re gonna lift me? For minutes on end? It’s going to take a while.”

“You can sit on my shoulders. And that way I can keep you company,” he quips with a crooked grin. He likes the way his smile makes her smile.

“Shawn, no, you haven’t even been working out recently, and--”

Her realization of her own mistake takes over her face. Now that she’s made it sound like she doesn’t think he’s capable, he won’t leave it alone until she lets him prove it. She sighs.

“I can do it, Lill, you’re really not heavy. C’mon, I can always put you down. It’ll be fine!”

She cringes. “Famous last words, Mendes.”

Shawn corrals her with confidence and kisses until she’s sitting on the edge of the bar counter with her legs out as Shawn crawls beneath her and into position with her thighs on his shoulders. 

“Three… two… one…,” Shawn grunts, ignoring Lilly’s persistent “oh god, oh god” muttering under her breath. He uses his lower body to press himself to stand. Lilly squeaks a little, clenching her legs tightly against his chest. He squeezes his hands on her quads with a little laugh.

“Told you. Did you seriously think I was gonna fuckin’ drop you?”

“I didn’t think you’d mean to,” Lilly mutters. She tugs once at his curls and presses into him again, giving him a feel for just what all those tree poses were for.

“Giddy up.”

One step at a time, they waddle beneath the chandelier. Lilly hooks up the loops she ingeniously sewed onto the furni pads to heavy duty Command hooks and sticks them up to the ceiling, one by one. The final pad goes up and the world goes dark.

“Oh my god,” Lilly breathes.

Shawn exhales. “We fuckin’ did it.”

Lilly lets out a squeak and smacks at his chest. “High five me!”

“I can’t see you!”

With a final uncoordinated scramble, Shawn kneels and Lilly stumbles off his shoulders. They fall into a puddle, enclosed in the quiet darkness.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispers, reaching out to touch whatever he finds. It happens to be her belly, where her shirt has ridden up. Her abs contract. He fights a goofy smile, even in the dark.

“I knew it was important to you.”

Shawn seeks her out. He can’t help it. He wriggles around until his head replaces his hand on her stomach, and links their fingers.

“I need to ask you something.”

Shawn looks up where her face should be in the blackness. He nods.

“How… many songs are about her? I just need to prepare myself for it.”

Shawn wishes he could see her face now. He thinks her voice is steady, but he can always read her face better. Whatever it is, it’s always in those big blue eyes.

“A lot,” he says honestly, “I went on a writing spree when we first got together. It was confusing, I think, because there was so fuckin’ much going on in my head. But writing about her helped… I dunno. I think it distracted me from how I still felt about you.”

He feels her swallow, but doesn’t hear it. The panic starts to rise, pushing him to keep talking.

“I don’t know what recording these songs is gonna feel like, Lill. I’m scared there isn’t gonna be any life in them. Because I don’t feel those things anymore. That’s why I left.”

Lilly sits up. Shawn’s head slides into her lap. His pulse is in his ears. He’s sick to his stomach.

“How do I know you didn’t say the same fucking thing to her when you left me?”

There’s no anger in it, just hurt. Shawn sits up, shaking his head, even though he knows she can’t see.

“Lill, please, I’m sorry. I really am. Fuck, I know it’s… it’s shitty. I can’t pretend to get it from your side. And I really don’t want to hurt you again.”

Her huff is aggravated, but she’s not running. He clings to hope.

“Well, it’s gonna hurt, Shawn, there’s kind of no getting around that if 90% of your album is ‘I finally got the girl’ songs.”

Shawn knows very little about life in general, he recognizes that, but he knows better than to argue the percentage right now. Tentatively, he reaches for her, finding her knee.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know,” she snaps. Shawn draws his hand back and feels his chest tighten. It can’t end like this. Not after everything.

“Ok,” Shawn breathes, nodding to himself, ready to collect his shredded dignity and search on his hands and knees for the flap of furni pad they designed as the door.

Her hand stops him. She grabs at him clumsily in the dark, then finds his wrist. She can probably feel his pulse in her small fingers.

“You know I’d never, ever tell you not to record a song, right?”

There’s a desperation he barely recognizes in her voice. He nods until he remembers she can’t see him.

“Yeah, Lill.”

“Because I wouldn’t. I’d never try to take something like that away from you. I know you would sooner die before putting anything on a record that you don’t think belongs there, and it belongs there because you love it. I’d never want you to put that aside for my feelings.”

“I know,” he whispers tenderly, smoothing the pad of his thumb across the tendons of her wrist.

“Ok,” she says, creeping back toward calm, “Good. Then… do what you’re gonna do. Make the best fucking record. And we’ll figure it out.”

Shawn ducks his head. He knows ‘lucky’ doesn’t begin to cover it. But now when he writes, he works on finding a bunch of other words to help him get there.

Lilly exhales through her nose. It’s quiet for a few long seconds. Until--

“I’m so getting producer credit for all this shit, by the way.”

+

“This was a bad idea,” Lilly groans.

Shawn looks over at her. She’s shrugged into a ball in the front seat of his rented Range Rover. Her knees cover her masked face. Her eyes dart anxiously.

“Stop doing that,” he sighs, reaching over with one hand and pushing at her knees, “The windows are tinted. You’re wearing a mask. I’m wearing a mask. It’s fine, honey.”

Even with half her face covered, Lilly looks skeptical. He leaves his hand on her thigh and rubs circles with his thumb while they sail down an uncharacteristically empty Mulholland Drive.

Shawn was desperate to get out. They’ve barely left the property in six weeks, an unignorable reminder of their privilege. But while Lilly would very happily never see a human again as long as she lives, Shawn is a Leo.

“Yeah, and?” he prods after she reminds him of his astrological sign over post-workout protein smoothies.

“And that means you are not a happy camper without a spotlight. In your case both literally and metaphorically.”

He laughed and kissed her. She let him.

But the drive was a tough sell. Even though he promised they wouldn’t get out anywhere, even in a socially distant setting, it felt like a risk to Lilly. It took the reassurance of the windows and the masks to even get her in the car.

Now that they’re here, Shawn feels something heavy in his chest dissolving that he didn’t realize was there. He sings along to Spotify and drums on the steering wheel and points out crazy houses as they wind through various canyon neighborhoods, Lilly’s favorite.

“It took what, two days for pap photos to show up of you guys walking around her neighborhood in Miami? That was Miami, Shawn. How do you not expect paps to be stalking every tinted-out Range Rover within 5 square miles of Beverly Hills?”

Shawn’s thumb stills. He tilts his head back and forth at a stop sign, stretching his neck.

“We called them.”

Lilly looks up at him. “Hmm?”

“The paps in Miami, they were there because our teams called them.”

Lilly’s brows pull together. “But there were pictures almost everyday. For like, a week.”

“Yeah,” Shawn sighs, “I know.”

Lilly is silent and contemplative. He starts up the soothing rubbing of her skin, even if it’s more effective for him than for her.

“It’s just that if they do happen to find us, that’s it. We’re officially on the radar. Everyone will know you broke up, everyone will know we’ve been staying together. For weeks, Shawn. It sends a very clear message.”

They roll to a stop at a light somewhere near Outpost Estates. Shawn tugs his mask down below his chin.

“I’m prepared for all of that. It’s ok if you’re not, if you’d rather keep it quieter this time, I totally get it. Things are… different now. But you’re not my dirty little secret, Lills, you never have been and I will never let you feel that way.”

Lilly cedes, dropping her own mask and wetting her lips. “I don’t want to… hide. I just want you to be prepared for the fact that a lot more people are going to be mad at you for leaving her for me than were mad when you left me for her.”

The light turns green. Shawn bites his lip and presses the gas. They drive in silence for a while.

“Did I scare you?”

Shawn startles a little at the sound of her voice and cracks a little smile.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I mean, I know the deal by now. It’s just… so fucking unfair to you.”

Shawn finds a quiet little cul de sac that backs up against a wooded area. He parks and turns the music down.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Lilly pleads only half playfully, “I know fandom at least as well as you do. It’s ok.”

“But how?” Shawn insists, squinting at her, “How is it ok? The things people say to you, and you’re not even a public figure. How does it not get to you?”

Lilly smiles sadly. “It does sometimes. But I decided a long time ago that you were worth it.”

The guilt weighs heavily all over again. Leaving her feels unfathomable now, like it wasn’t a year ago that he did it, but ten years. That was a stupid kid version of him then. He knows so much better now. He hopes he does.

Shawn links their fingers and draws Lilly’s knuckles to his lips. He watches her over the top of them. She sinks happily into her seat and goes a lovely shade of pink.

“If I wrote down how many times I day I think about how fucking crazy I am about you, the world would be out of paper.”

Lilly cackles, tossing her head back. Her laugh makes him laugh.

“What?” he giggles.

“What a line!” she crows.

“That wasn’t a line, that was from my deep and lyrical heart!”

“That was the line-iest line that has ever lined. Shawn Mendes, you smooth motherfucker.”

He rolls his eyes but can’t stop grinning. “Shut up. I’m never saying anything nice to you again.”

“Mmm, you can’t help it, honey, you’re Canadian.”

He huffs an exhale through his nose and closes his eyes. Her thumb is soft and warm against the back of his hand.

“And apparently really fucking crazy about me,” she adds softly. He tilts his head and opens one eye to look at her.

“I am. Can’t remember why though.”

Lilly’s lips pucker as she considers a thought. Shawn’s legs tingle.

“Put the seats down in the back and I’ll happily remind you.”

Shawn feels his eyes go comically wide. Lilly’s lips spread into a Cheshire cat smile.

“You’re kidding. You’re not kidding?”

“I’m actually super not kidding.”

He hears her laughing as he leaps out of the car and crawls into the trunk to put the seats down. She doesn’t stop until the trunk closes behind them and his lips are on her earlobe.

-----------

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[goth-girlfriend]

love your latest endeavor story!!! please do a part 2 omg

Of course!💙 I’m excited for it myself!

Well, now we have to name it,

Endeavor’s Intern

(2/?)

🖤💙❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️💙🖤

“So much for waiting just for a schedule.” I mumbled and finally relaxed again Endeavor’s chest.

He ignored me, his arms still stretched out working away at papers on his desk. My thights started to hurt form being pressed together between his own, so I didn’t what any rational person would do. I grabbed a hold of his massive biceps and ignoring his protests I pushed myself up and pushed my legs over his thighs and knees. In this new position I leaned back completely against his chest, his chin now resting ontop of my head. I took deep breath and looked around his office, the sky has moved from mid morning to mid afternoon. The clouds were not longer just bright white, they had tints of orange and pink.

‘Hey, hows it going?’ -❄️🔥

‘Oh, you know, it’s going’ -☀️🖤

‘Did you cry? He goes easier when you cry.’ -❄️🔥

‘No..., i didn’t get a smack on the hand though, kinda hurt honestly. 😭 -☀️🖤

‘You’ll Live then, it could’ve gone worse.’ -❄️🔥

‘Yeah, okay. So....how’s it going on your part?’-☀️🖤

“Tell Shoto to get back to work.” Endeavors voice vibrates against my back.

“Tell him what?” I asked wanting feel him speak again.

“To get back to work.” He grumbled and pushed his hips back against his chair to lean foreward slightly.

I followed his actions not really wanting to, but because he was quite literally my chair at the moment.

‘Shoto, you dad says get back to work’ -☀️🖤

‘Tell him get back to work.’- ❄️🔥

“Shoto says for you to get back to work,” I tried to looked over my shoulder.

Endeavor mumbled something and I started to scroll through my phone. I landed on Snapchat, ever since the sports festival and leaking my snapchat my views have gone threw the roof. Apparently people like to see what it’s like to be a hero in training.

I opened the filters and started to play around with some, my favorite being the basic heart crown. I took a few pictures with different filters not posting them due to endeavors chest being visible in the background. I might be a little crazy but I’m not stupid. I wonder if I can get a picture with Endeavor.

“Endeavor Senpai,” I felt him tense behind me.

No response, “Will you take a picture with me?”

He didn’t answer, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I angled my phone upwards, at the top of the screen his face, at the bottom was from my nose up. We both had heart crown filters. He seemed annoyed, but I took the picture anyway.

“I don’t like this let me try a different one.” I moved and sat across his lap, my butt on one thigh and my legs over the other.

I turned my phone to its side and then got us both in the picture.

“Smile, it’s not like anyone else is going to see this.” I mumbled and smiled.

The edges of his lips tugged up barely, I took it as the best I could and took the picture.

“That’s definitely getting saved.” I saved it twice.

I scrolled through the filters and found a fan made filter, Endeavor or All Might poll. I looked over at Endeavor, he was staring at me hard as I clicked on my answer. Of course it was going to be him, he been my crush for about two years, and I’m literally sitting on him right now.

The filter changed to red heart and fire emoji crown, I smiled at Endeavor and leaned my side against his chest. I wrapped my right arm about his neck and held up a piece sign.

“Come on, now you really have to smile for this one.” The filter picked up on the both of us and I stretched out my left arm to get more of us.

I was gonna cherish these because this might never happen again. He had a faint smile, I smiled wider and tilted my head to the right slightly, he loved his left arm around my hips and his right arm resting on the arm rest. I felt all happy considering I was literally quitting three or four hours ago.

I took the picture and saved it, I showed it to him. He simply made a “hm” noise.

I let out a heavy sigh, “I’m bored.”

“You go on Patrol soon, go get ready.” With that he pushed me off his lap.

Standing up I nodded and grabbed my coffee smelling and slightly now stiff cloak.

“He totally likes me.” I mumbled once I was outside his office.

I walked to the elevator, the secretary of the floor looking at me smirking.

“Did her get rid of you already?” She was smirking.

“Pfft, If i weren’t here for just a week I could replace you faster then you can order his Coffee.” I sassed at her and did the most cliche finger snap.

She rolled her eyes, I smield and turned to walk into the elevator, Todoroki was there.

“So don’t tell anyone but guess what.” I said once the elevator doors were closed.

“What?” Shoto asked crossing his arms across his chest.

“I-“ I stopped and pulled out my phone to show him the picture I took with his dad, the last picture showed I was sitting in lap with his hand on my hip.

“Look.” I showed him the screen grinning like an idiot.

“What.” He looked at the photo eyes wide, “how?” He asked.

“He smacked my hand and then told me to wait for the schedule change, so I went to sit down but pulled me down and basically said he said he told me to wait not to move.”

“I see.” He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, “So should I refer to you as step mom, mom or just by your name like I do now?”

I blushed and looked down, “Shut it Shoto, your dad is still married to your mom so I actually feel bad now.”

I sulked looking down, Shoto sighed and rolled his eyes.

“(Y/n), they were actually divorced not to long after she was admitted to the hospital. It just never made it to the public.” He sighed and looked down.

I felt bad, I moved and hugged him from the side. My arms wrapped around his chest and my chin bent upwards to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Todo,” I whispered.

He turned slightly and hugged me back, “Together we make a whole mess.”

I laughed at him, a smile made its way to his lips.

“Yeah but now it’ll be you and my dad,” he exaggerated a sigh, “So I’ll be all alooonnee,” he exaggerated another sigh, “No friend, no money, nothing. Just alone.”

“You’re such a baby,” I pulled away and so did he.

“Besides I’d totally be a sugar baby and we’d definitely hang out and I’d finally go to universal!” I put my hands on my hips smiling up at Shoto.

“Oh, so your in it for the money.” His left brow quirked.

“No, not really.” I sighed and looked down, “It’s probably not real, people will think I’m crazy and don’t know what love it. I mean after all we’re only 15 , but I think I really like your dad...” I smiled down at my shoes.

The elevator doors finally opened.

“Well,” he sighed, “Good luck.” We stepped out and he walked off with another hero.

“I’ll see you after Patrols.” He called out over his shoulder.

“See you then.” I mumbled.

I sat on a sofa in the waiting room, I wonder who I’m patrolling with today. I hope it’s someone cool, I don’t really know anyone, so I don’t know who’s cool yet. I kicked my feet slightly just waiting for someone to pick me up and take me with them on patrol. About three other pairs left, not one person taking me, or stopping to ask me.

I deflated a bit with every passing person, did Endeavor lie to? Did he just tell me that to get me out of his way?

“Well, day two is coming to an end, no patrols so far.” I logged down on a mini log I had made in my calendar. “Wonder if I’ll get to go home, or will I wait all night for a patrol.”

Just as I closed the app I leaned back in my chair.

“We’re leaving lets go.” I jumped up quickly at the sound of Endeavor’s voice.

“Yes sir.” I follows quickly as he made his way out the door.

“There are four teams out already, one in the north, east, south and west. Well cover the central area. When a call comes in the group closest will respond first. If they’re busy the second closest will respond.” I followed and took mental notes as he spoke.

“Just a question.” I asked when he took a break from explaining.

He looked down at me arms crossed, “What?”

“Do you ever work with any heroes outside of your agency or is it like a strict agency hero teamwork system for you?” I asked curious why he was talking with Hawks.

“There is an occasional hero that is nuisance, but can complete tasks efficiently.” He didn’t sound to happy about it.

“Hawks?” I asked tilting my head.

“Precisely.” He looked ahead on the semi empty streets, avoiding eye contact as to no have to interact with anyone.

“He’d be useless with out his wings, even if they don’t do much I wouldn’t expect much from them.” He stopped at a side walk lights nd peared around the corner into a dark alleyway.

“What’s wrong with wings?” I asked looking around where he did.

“They get in the way, they get dirty easy, if you’re anything like Hawks the slightly dust will awns you into a cleaning frenzy. Overall I think they are more trouble then they’re worth at times.” He said as he finally began to cross.

“Well I think they’re cool.” I looked down, our shadows fell behind us. “I mean they’re are so many things you can do.”

I activated my quirk, surprise, I can grow wings. I stretched my left wing behind Endeavor’s back to tap his left shoulder he’d turned and I pulled it away quickly.

“Also it’s just something about the sound of flying that just gives me a sense of peace and nostalgia. When I was younger, I used to love birds flying, crows and ravens specially. They would get closer not exactly afraid, I loved to listen to them flap their wings, it sounded powerful for such small birds, considering the size of birds of prey.” I shrugged and started to think about.

“Did you see someone back there?” Endeavor asked as I stopped.

“No why?” I asked looking back.

He didn’t say a thing but looked foreward. I moved to tap his shoulder, looking for a distraction.

“Ooo, look it’s you.” I pointed to a hero Mech store, Endeavor plushies and posters were on display by the window.

He turned to look I too the opportunity and tucked it away. I watched him look over his shoulder then back.

“Have you ever bought any of your own merchandise?” I asked him.

“No, I’m always gifted my own merchandise.” He didn’t seem impressed.

“Well then.” I mumbled and then saw a new collection.

“Look! They have a new thing.” I pointed to a small white box with question marks.

“Text your luck, see what UA student you can collect. class 1-A first collection, sixteen different figures, collect them all.” I read it out loud, “Im gonna buy some, I wonder if I can find myself, this is amazing.”

I got excited and deactivated my quirk, I could foil my own plan. I started to walk in before Endeavor cleared throat. It hit me, this is an internship, I slowly pushed the door.

“Pleeeeaaaasssseeeee.” I stretched it out not opening the door.

“Hurry.” He said and turned away.

I rushed in and bought the whole box. There’s three in each there has to be at least one of me. I saw a different bag and bought three of those, they were pro hero’s.

I walked out bag in head, “Alright I can compromise, if I get more then one Shoto I’ll let you have one, I think they’re keychains.” I said looking at the bag I was holding in my right hand.

Endeavor just looked at me and sighed, I smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Well let’s get back to work...”

As we walked I pulled my belt around my waist, it had a large pouch on the back, I pulled out all the small bags and squished them in there and made sure to-zip if tight. I threw the paper bag and box away and caught up with Endeavor.

We spent the next few hours doing nothing, just walking around. Every now and then I would tap his shoulder while I talked about something nonchalant, he look for whatever it was and turn back around.

“Well, I’m hungry, and you said patrols ended at 2, it’s 2:20.” I was looking at my phone.

“Alright.” He said stopping in the light of some 24 hour shop, “Well take a break.”

I got excited, I’d finally be able to open my toys.

“Great, What is this place I’m starving.” I leaned around and looked past Endeavors broad shoulders and chest.

“Boba tea and cafe.” I read the sign, “24/7 for your convenience. Pro hero discount after 9:40 pm.”

I looked up at Endeavor, “You even get a discount.”

I was about to pass him until someone cut me off. Red wings blocked my view. It was Hawks, I looked around and saw him, Tokoyami. I smiled at him, he nodded.

“Ew.” I said in fake disgust at Hawks with a smile on my face.

“Hm?” He turned to me.

“Oh didn’t see you there shorty.” He was snarky, he used the tip of his wing to ‘take’ my height to show how is a shorter then him.

“Don’t get to cocky, the size of your wings have nothing to do with the type of man you are.” I huffed and swatted his wing away.

It was very soft surprisingly.

He laughed, “Feisty.”

“Yeah, now, move please? I haven’t eaten since last night.” I said trying to get last.

“Endeavor!” He pushed past me forgetting about me and his intern.

I watched Endeavor’s face contort.

“Well let’s eat.” I shrugged at Tokoyami, he sighed and nodded.

Tokoyami and I walked in and made our way to the register.

“Alright, what do you that is good and affordable for high school students?” I asked when the guy asked how he could help us.

“We have a mystery meal,” he started, “You gettour choice boba tea, a side of rice, and depending on the day you get a cutlet, grilled fish, tempura shrimp, steamed vegetables, omelet or dumplings. We give you care and every time you order a mystery meal we lunch a hole, after six visits for the seventh by redeeming your card you can chose a pro hero inspired meal for free.” He explains and showed me a silver paper card with little squares.

“Alright, I’ll take one. Do you want one Tokoyami?” I asked. He was looking at the menu above us.

“Yes but you order fir-”

“Two mystery meals, his apple flavored if you have it and I’ll take strawberries, both with mango pearls please.” I gave the guy my bank card he scanned it and punched two holes in my card.

“Thank you.” I smield and took it from him.

“Aren’t you guys from UA?” He asked and eyes us.

“Yup, is you watched the festival you should at least recognize our own number three right here.” I patted Tokoyami’s shoulder.

We went to sit in a large booth, we kept small talk. Tokoyami telling me how Hawks likes to stand behind him and spread out his wings or carry him so then people see them they look like one whole bird.

After he finished I told him a bout the small figures and pulled out a bag, I asked him if he wanted to open one. He denied and I opened it. Out came three Tokoyami.

“Well then.” I said and picked one up, a small version of Dark shadow was coming from him in the figure.

“Look how cute dark shadow looks.” I pointed him out.

“Here you can have one.” I laid him the miniature version of himself.

He picks did up by the chain looking at it. “Not a lot of variety.”

I let out a few laughs, and shook my head, “Nah, it’s just beginners bad luck.”

I stood the two Tokoyami up and reached for another bag as I moved my pouch to the front to look like a Fanny pack.

“Well, I have our whole class now,” I tried to make a seating arrangement on the table. All the extras piled on the side.

“I’m even here.” I pointed to my smaller self.

“Sixty figures and I only get to keep sixteen.” I said and looked at the rest.

“Oh! Also look at these.” I pulled out a bag of pro hero’s.

“How much can you fit in that bag?” Hawks asked from his spot beside Tokoyami.

“A lot, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I said pulling out the bags of pro hero’s.

“These have four.” I read on fo three bags.

I opened the first bag, three all nights and an Aizawa.

“That’s depressing.” Hawks said as he picked up a Might.

“Next.” I said throwing the bag to the side.

A midnight, present mic and two ectoplasm.

“The bags says your chances of getting top five hero’s are better then the rest, but you literally just got a rare and not a single common.” Hawks said taking the empty bag from me.

I sighed. “Last one.”

I opened it and put came four Hawks.

I looked at him, he was smirking, “Ill end you, I’ll do it.”

I dropped the bag but it made a clicking noise.

I picked it up, “Look.” I showed stood the fifth figure up, “They packed an extra.”

“It’s a little Endeavor.” Hawks said reaching for it, “I didn’t spend 20 dollars for someone else to take it. I swatted his hand.

“But you can have a Tokoyami, All Might and Hawks.” I pushed the three to him.

He pouted and looked at the figure between my two fingers.

“But I want that one.” He pointed to Endeavor.

“No he’s mine.” I argued back.

“Excuse me, can we have a picture of you four for our hero wall?” The cashier boy was back with trays of food and a girl beside him with a camera.

Nobody had time to reply before Hawks was standing and ageeeing. “Everybody show your quirks, they have to know we’re legit.”

I looked at Endeavor who never stopped burning, “I don’t think it’s that hard to believe.”

We lined up, Hawks, Tokoyami, Myself and Endeavor.

I propped my left arm on Tokoyami’s shoulder, Hawks raised his wings and did a peace sign, Tokoyuhad darkshadow infront front of him, I stretched my wings up and out, and Endeavor has his arms crossed against his chest. The girl stuck the Polaroid to a paper and held a sharpie out, “would you like to si-“

Hawks snatched the paper away and looked at me then the paper then me.

“What?!” He asked and looked at me, twats at the corner of his eyes.

“I thought I was special,” he was deflating slowly.

I laughed and looked at the picture, “Ooo, I look good.” I said pointing to my wing, it stretched out further than Hawks.

“Well, don’t hold out on me what kind.” He squinted, “Eagle, when I was a younger everyone thought vulture or raven or crow but surprise! Bird of prey.” I shrugged.

“You know what this means?” He asked.

“No.” I answered honestly.

“Wing buddies!” He lifted his left wing and I looked at it, I tired to resist but sighed and gave in, I hit his wing with my own and sighed, “wind buddies!” I cheered back with a smile.

We all signed the paper and the lady hung it on a wall.

After eating we all headed out, I reached into my pouch and pulled out two figures. I slid back around to my back and held my hand out to Endeavor.

“Here, it’s you and Shoto.” I said offering the two figures.

“Thank you.” His voice was low and smooth, his larger hand covered mine as he took them. Heat leaving his hand and engulfing my own.

I felt my wings ruffle up a bit as J smiled, “You’re welcome Senpai.” I winked at him and grinned.

He looked over at me, my heart fluttered. His eyes looked so pretty in the dark, being lit up but every other white light we passd.

I was really hoping I wouldn’t call it love, but man, if this wasn’t love what was it?

We walked down the same side walk, I wanted to reach for his larger hand, in my mind I could here Shoto “do it.”

So I did, he tended and I whistled a tune like nothing happened. He just looked ahead, I smiled and tightened my grip slightly on his hand.

“This is definitely the best.”

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

@lovemadnessharleyquinn

I hope you don’t mind I tagged you!

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[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 68 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 59 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

--

RATE THE EPISODE 53 Responses

The response was overwhelmingly positive with 88.7% of responses giving the episode a 4 or a 5. In addition, there weren’t any 1s or 2s this time around. A noted contrast to the previous episode. Suppose Sasha’s death ruined the experience for some.

it epic

I NEED MORE

awesome

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 55 Responses

The scene with the largest amount of reception (18.2%) was the final scene of the episode, where Eren repeats his mantra to himself in the mirror while revealing his new look. Behind that was the reveal that Armin is talking to Annie (10.9%). At a tie (9.1%), people most enjoyed Hange’s eccentric greeting to the Marleyan soldiers and Onyankopon explaining why he believes people are different. At another tie (7.3%), were the scenes where Sasha is enjoying Nicolo’s cooking, and the scene where Eren is washing himself at the sink.

WHAT WAS THE MOST EMOTIONAL PART OF THE VISIT TO SASHA’S GRAVE? 57 Responses

The visit to Sasha’s grave was packed with many tragic moments. According to the responders, the most emotional of those was Connie’s line about losing “his half” (47.4%). Following that we have the scene of grieving Mikasa with 24.6%. In third place is Nicolo’s general grief. Other responses were, in this order, Sasha’s Father agreeing to a free meal from Nicolo, seeing the girl that Sasha saved from a Titan all those years ago and simply Sasha’s family appearing.

AFTER SEVERAL TENSE AND ACTION PACKED EPISODES, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE TRANSITION TO SOMETHING MORE CALM? 53 Responses

Ever since the series started, AoT has had a clear contrast between the content of its episodes. Episode 68 of the series notably contrasts with the prior 3-4 episodes. So we wanted to know how the fans respond to these sorts of things. 32.1% stated that they enjoyed the slower paced episode after weeks of chaos. An equal number of responders (32.1%) noted that although they far preferred the action-based content, they understood the need for the slower episodes. A little over 13% said they actually preferred the exposition-esque content, so they were happy with the change and finally, a bit over 11% stated that they were indifferent. 

I view exposition equally as important as action. 

Watching the show dissect what happened before and after the attack on Marley made everything so clear, I love how they were able to capture the drama of both sequences

I'm definetly here more dialogue heavy epiodes and flashbacks but maybe with a slower pacing. It felt a little messy because the episode was also dealing with Sasha's as well as backstory. I think thst was probably intentional though.

They both have their merits.

Still feels great

WOULD YOU RATHER GET A SURPRISE GREETING FROM EREN & HANGE, OR ARMIN & LEVI? 55 Responses

Marleyan Soldiers got two sets of surprises in this episode. One from Eren and Hange, one from Armin and Levi. The fans would clearly prefer to get one of those from Eren and Hange (78.2%) than Armin and Lavi (21.8%).

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW HAPPY ARE YOU TO BE BACK ON PARADIS? 55 Responses

We recently returned to Paradis Island and according to the responders, it was a much wanted development, with 85.4% giving a 4 or a 5 when it comes to hype about the return to the island.

ARMIN SAYS THAT ONCE EREN INFILTRATED MARLEY, THERE WAS NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO ATTACK IN ORDER TO PREVENT IMMEDIATE RETALIATION. DO YOU AGREE WITH HIM? 55 Responses

The raid on Liberio is being questioned not only by the audiences, but also by the characters in-universe. Still, when it comes to Armin’s justification for the attack, the majority (69.1%) think that there was no other choice for Paradis, be it because they could afford to lose Eren/Founding Titan or because Marley would have retaliated easily. Others (~10%) think that they either should have made more effort to find Eren before it came to the raid or should have just let him go. 14.5% simply aren’t sure. 

They had no choice but to retrieve Eren, but that doesn't necessarily mean a full blown attack. I think Armin is trying to convince himself here. 

Yes. Marley could have captured Eren and had Zeke or someone else eat him for the founding powers.

DO YOU THINK IT’S PLAUSIBLE THAT MARLEY WILL FIND A WAY TO QUICKLY COUNTERATTACK ANYWAY? 53 Responses

When it comes to Marley, one could wonder if they will attempt a quick counterattack. 67.9% believe so, 15.1% dissent. And 9.4% state that they have been spoiled.  For the write-in responder who feels that we are spoiling via the question itself, we assure you that anything we ask here had once been a matter of debate among manga readers when the corresponding chapters were fresh and we did not know the outcome. We would just like to give anime only watchers the same opportunity to have these debates. 

I don't know.

The fleet has been destroyed, but what about the airforce (if they have one)? I doubt Paradis has the mean to counter that. 

I'm not really sure honestly

This question is a spoiler itself: if you ask this, maybe it means that's what will happen. Thank you.

WHEN EREN FIRES HIS GUN AT THE END OF EMA’S TALK, IT TRANSITIONS TO SASHA TAKING A BULLET IN THE PREVIOUS EPISODE. DO YOU FEEL THAT THE NARRATIVE IS TRYING TO PIN THE BLAME SOLELY ON EREN? 55 Responses

Eren’s rifle shot was juxtaposed with Sasha’s death, showcasing a possible thread in the narrative. Does the narrative believe that Eren is to blame for Sasha’s death? 38.2% think it’s a yes and 45.5% think it’s a possibility. On the other hand, almost 11% don’t think the story is trying to go for that route. 

While I don’t think it’s trying to pin the blame solely on Eren. I think it’s trying to say he shares a large portion of the blame.

He may be partly at fault, but not fully.

Yes. But they shouldn't. Because it was GabBitch who killed Sasha, and GabBitch alone.

DO YOU BELIEVE THAT ZEKE, YELENA AND THE VOLUNTEERS ARE SINCERE IN THEIR WISH TO HELP PARADIS? 55 Responses

Zeke, Yelena and Co. are a set of characters. Are they a trustworthy set of characters? Certainly up to debate. 67.8% believe they’re trustworthy to a degree, at the very least. In contrast to 23.6% who find no trust in them. A select few have been spoiled. 

Mmm Yelena & co. maybe...I love Zeke but he's big sus this season

I think they are loyal to Zeke, and his goal is to get the funding titan. At the moment, this means allying themselves with Paradis, but that could easily change. 

They are very sus, Yelena is especially loose. IDK who they'll be loyal too.

DO YOU THINK THAT EREN WANTS TO USE THE WALL TITANS AS A SIMPLE DETERRENT, OR DOES HE WANT TO FLATTEN THE EARTH? 55 Responses

The possibility of a Rumbling has been brought up more than a few times throughout the series (mostly this season) and the question remains, “will Eren use the Rumbling to flatten the Earth?” 60% think that’ll be the case, in contrast to almost 11% who dissent. 27.3% were already spoiled about the outcome. 

That idiot definetly wants to flatten the earth. Empathy and logic has never been Erens strong suit.

DO YOU THINK THAT EMA HAVE BECOME MORE DISTANT FROM EACH OTHER? 55 Responses

The iconic EMA trio has been together through thick and thin, so something truly must happen for them to “break up”, so to say. Would one say that they have grown apart? 56.4% think so, but only insofar as Eren goes. 25.5% believe that they all have grown apart to a degree. 9.1% dissent to these assertions and a select few have been spoiled. 

Even Mikasa and Armin seem distant! They were coping on their own after coming back to Paradis. 

I like to refer to them as E     MA. lol. Yehhhh anyway- somethings defs off with them.

ARMIN SAID HE DIDN’T SEE ANY NOTEWORTHY MEMORIES FROM BERTOLT WHEN EREN ASKED HIM ABOUT IT. DO YOU THINK HE’S BEING TRUTHFUL? 55 Responses

A whole bunch of people doubt Armin’s statement about not seeing anything useful in Bertolt’s memories (81.8%), though some (14.5%) think the boy’s telling the truth. A select few have been spoiled.

DO YOU THINK MIKASA IS LOSING HOPE IN THE WORDS THAT ONCE GAVE HER STRENGTH? 56 Responses

Long ago, Mikasa stated that one must fight, survive and win. If they don’t fight, they won’t survive and will lose. But with some losses drumming up on the plate, could she start doubting this mantra? 46.4% believe that we cannot say one way or another until we see more. 26.8% don’t believe that Sasha’s death will shake her confidence in that belief and it’s just a brief moment of doubt, in contrast to 23.2% who believe that Sasha’s demise will irreparably change Mikasa’s philosophy. 

No....? I did't even realise she was that close to Sasha. I feel like if she loses Eren THEN she'll lose hope.

what words?

Mikasa deserves better than emo world destroyer Eren!!! She's too pure.

EREN SEEMED TO BE MISSING WHEN THE SURVEY CORPS WERE INTERACTING WITH THE VOLUNTEERS. WHY DO YOU THINK THAT MIGHT BE? 54 Responses

Eren wasn’t present when the others were interacting with the volunteers. Some believe it is noteworthy, others do not think so. 38.9% simply aren’t certain. 29.6% think it’s the SC decision to keep Eren away from Zeke’s followers. On the other, 20.4% predict that it was Eren’s own choice of isolation. A select few have simply been spoiled.

Didn’t notice this until now

Maybe he had already left for Marley?

ARMIN WAS HOPEFUL THAT THEY COULD SOLVE THEIR PROBLEMS THROUGH DIPLOMACY. EREN FELT THAT PEACE WAS NEVER AN OPTION. WHO DO YOU AGREE WITH MORE? 54 Responses

A noted contrast in Eren and Armin’s beliefs was showcased in this episode. 57.4% find themselves siding more with Eren’s anti-diplomatic measures, while 42.6% support Armin’s more peaceful ways.

WE GOT A GLIMPSE OF ANNIE IN THIS EPISODE. WHAT BEST MATCHES YOUR THOUGHTS? 55 Responses

Annie has been encased in that crystal for years at this point, both in and out of universe. Is she going to get out of that crystal? Just a little over 69% believe so, in contrast to the one person who doesn’t. 23.6% were spoiled one way or another. 

Sis is running out of time...it would really suck if her 13 years were up before she even got out of her lil crystal

This has GOT to wake up, surely.

She got a nose reduction surgery

HOW DO YOU THINK ZEKE WILL RATE HIS STAY AT THE HOTEL OF GIANT TREES? 55 Responses

Zeke seemed shocked to find his hotel to be a forest of Giant Trees. An iconic location, seen throughout the series. We asked how you believe Zeke will rate his stay. A plurality (40%) think that he won’t be there long enough to do so. 29.1% believe he’ll give it an average score, in contrast to 23.6% who imagine Zeke loving his getaway! 7.3% have been spoiled.

WHAT BEST DESCRIBES YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT PIXIS ARRESTING THE VOLUNTEERS? 55 Responses

It would appear Pixis detained the volunteers while the SC were away. The majority (52.7%) don’t find it to be a controversial decision, noting that both parties have a mutual understanding between each other. A noted minority (29.1%) thought that it was actually the best course of action, arguing that the Paradisian Military has no way of knowing whether the volunteers are trustworthy or not now that Zeke is here on Paradis. In contrast, 18.2% thought that it was mistake, given how much assistance the Volunteers have provided to the islanders.

WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THE WAY THE PARADISIANS ARE SEEN TREATING MARLEYANS? 55 Responses

We saw some noted mistreatment of Marleyans by the Paradisians this episode. So we asked the responders what their thoughts were on this development. A plurality (47.3%) couldn’t say one way or the other and needed to see more to pass their judgment. 34.5% were open in their condemnation of those actions, in contrast to the 12.7% who were supportive of such activities. 

Cycle of haaaate. No one is justified in acting that way but it's understandable that they do

Some good, some bad. Military police doing the worst of course. 

An eye for an eye ✌

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

I don't know what to say anymore. This episode made me question my previous ideologies regarding the characters

In my opinion, this episode has more fanservice than usual, from the ship moments of Levihan and Aruani, and to the display of Mikasa's ass and Eren's abs, but Mappa is not over the top and can still get the plot moving and still have those moments that can move the viewers.

I believe in Onyankopon supremacy

Even though I love Mappa post timeskip designs, the pre timeskip design of some characters seemed a bit off to me (particularly Armin and Eren). It distracted me a bit from the action. 

Eren standing Infront of the mirror was way better in manga. Mappa need to put more effort. No hate tho. 

Idk, didn't blow me away. I'm seriously concerned for Armin, he's definetly losing it. Appreciated the flashbacks and the new characters too. Onyankopon has captured my mf heart, if he dies, I die too. 😌

Chad Eren

Niccolo x Sasha OTP

What the shit dude…

Gabi will forever be the worst character to me, no matter what the anime tries to do to justify her

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 54 Responses

Thanks again to everyone who responded!

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 16

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Language

A/N: just FYI, feedback and messages from y’all make me update stories sooo much faster. 

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

        - - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

All the judges agreed that a mentor switch would be best for everyone, considering the outbreak from the boy on your original team. As Harley had asked, you were able to switch over to his team and help them with their design.

It was quite good, a few minor tweaks and suggestions that they took to heart helped immensely. The original design itself was brilliant, and while the rest of the members of the team explained the concept and execution, you saw Harley stay quiet. You knew it was his design, and he probably did most of the handiwork, but he let the team take charge. He didn’t overpower them, even though he was likely the strongest member of the team.

The night before judging, the team had you look over it once more, and you wouldn’t have changed anything. They asked thoughtful questions and seemed happy with your answers. It was such a different energy than the first team, you were actually able to talk to them and listen, and they listened to you and respected you.

Harley was walking you out back to your hotel on the outskirts of campus. It wasn’t that far, and you knew the area, but you enjoyed the company.

“Have you thought about applying for the Stark Internship Program?” You asked him.

“Of course, we’re all applying.” He nodded.

“That’s great, I think you’d be a perfect candidate. You’re a good team player, but I can tell that the design was mainly your idea. You seem to have experience beyond your years.” You said.

“You’re one to talk.” Harley smirked, causing you to laugh, and also dodging your question.

“I know, I know, but seriously.” You smiled, hoping he’d explain.

“When I was younger a... friend gave me some pointers and set me up with a lab.” He chose his words carefully.

“That’s some friend.” You raised a brow, but kept your tone playful.

“He was a character for sure. He once gave me this tiny rocket, called it a piñata for a cricket.” He smiled at the memory, but you’d recognize that sarcastic turn of phrase anywhere.

“You didn’t happen to grow up in Rose Hill, Tennessee did you?” You asked suspiciously.

“Sure did.” He answered casually.

“So you’re the wonder boy.” You smirked, knowing exactly who he was.

“He mentioned me?” He raised a brow, and stopped for a moment.

“Years ago. Something about a... potato launcher?” You tried to remember, and laughed at the thought of the man standing in front of you pointing a potato gun at your father.

“Wow.” He laughed, confirming your guess.

“You know, we’ll be announcing the first cut for the program next week and interview signups. Why don’t you come up to New York? I’m sure he’d love to see you again, now that you’re all grown up.” You motioned to his tall frame.

“I’ve never been to New York before.” He shrugged.

“You’re kidding, I’ll have to show you around.” You smiled, you realized you’d reached your hotel, and thanked Harley for walking you.

The next morning was the final day of the competition, and the day all the judges submitted their scores. Naturally, you weren’t allowed to score the team you mentored, to be fair. As you were scoring your first team's work, you saw the boy who disrespected you giving you a dirty look, like he thought you’d score them low for his outburst, to get back at them. You’d actually given them one of the higher scores, as they’d improved upon every error you saw and mentioned.

At the end of the afternoon it was announced that Harley’s team had won, and you were proud. Really they didn’t need much help, but you still felt happy for them, they deserved it.

That evening Harley joined you on the jet back upstate. You wanted to surprise your father, and you could give him a tour of the compound. He’d be a great addition to the team, and he was already familiar with your father. Of course formally, you’d make him go through all the steps for the internship, but he practically had a guaranteed spot.

As you got off the jet, still in your business attire from the competition, F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed you that your father was in the lab.

Harley followed you, trying to keep up as he admired everything you’d passed in the compound on the way to the lab. Through the window you saw your father with his back facing you, tinkering with the prototype you left him for Rhodey’s leg braces. You slipped into the room quietly.

“Dad, I’ve got a little surprise for you.” You announced yourself.

“I’m not ready to be a grandfather, young lady.” He quipped, causing you to roll your eyes as he turned around. Harley stepped to your side and your father raised a brow. He clearly recognized him, but couldn’t place him.

“How do I know you?” Tony asks, squinting his eyes as he examines him.

“We’re connected?” Harley shrugs with a smile, clearly that must have been some sort of inside joke since Tony immediately lit up, remembering him, and hugging him.

They were catching up as you were moving around the lab, showing him the nanotechnology he was so interested in.

You were laughing at something Harley had said, placing your hand on his arm gently as you heard the door to the lab open.

The three of you whipped around.

“Peter?” You asked, confused.

“Sorry, Happy told me to come pick up... my work.” He covered, clearly not wanting to mention the suit in front of a stranger. You hadn’t seen him since that morning he left your apartment, you weren’t prepared to see him today.

And he wasn’t prepared to see you so close with another man as he came into the lab. He looked older, and you were both dressed up, but he didn’t know from what. Peter had needed an update on the suit, and taking your advice had gone through Happy. A pang of jealousy rushed through him, he remembered your words, you needed time, to see if it’s worth the risk. Maybe you’d decided it wasn’t.

“Here ya go kid, all ready to go.” Tony handed him the case, he clearly wasn’t going to tell you that Peter was dropping by or that he’d mended his suit.

“Are you one of the interns?” Harley asked, oblivious to any of the tension in the room.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, Peter.” He shook Harley’s hand with a closed lip smile.

“Harley.” He smiled back.

“Nice to meet you, I’m sure you guys are busy, I’ll get out of your way. Thanks Mr. Stark.” Peter nodded, lifting the case slightly as he turned to exit the lab.

Tony had noticed how your face had dropped into a sad smile for a moment, and as Harley quickly turned back to you, you put your smile back on like a mask. Tony realized that you weren’t over Peter, and after all this time, you might never be.

After showing Harley around the compound with dad, the two of you drove into the city for dinner. You had a few tricks up your sleeve. You knew where you could go to ensure that the paparazzi saw you, with someone that wasn’t Thomas. Maybe the opportunity you needed to naturally distance yourself from him without causing suspicion was to bring someone else into the mix.

And the papers the next day proved your plan could work. “Trouble in Paradise? Stark Spotted Uptown with Strapping New Beau”. Your plan was coming along splendidly, but you knew there were more factors coming into play now. Since you were working with the FBI, they’d told you to sit tight with Thomas until they could find a safe out for you, and that’s exactly what you had provided them with. Once you received confirmation from them that this was a good opportunity to act and distance yourself, you set up another one of your planned outings with Thomas.

You’d gotten what you wanted out of him, he’s no longer of use to you. You knew he had been ‘cheating’ on you anyway. You had the pictures to prove it, him in a club with another girl, and in a dark restaurant, and outside his house. You were just waiting for the right time to use them. After Harley had to go back to MIT for classes, you’d set up a lunch with Thomas. Although he didn’t know that the paparazzi had already been tipped off to your location and anonymously sent the pictures.

You’d reserved a table outside to give them the perfect opportunity to overhear what was about to go down. You began by asking Thomas about the other girl, and he only laughed.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You spoke loudly so the undercover paparazzi two tables over could hear you and quote you, running your fingers through your hair and dipping your head to look as if maybe you were crying, knowing they’d snap a shot.

“It’s over Thomas.” You stood, slapping some cash on the table and walking off.

“Wait-” he tried to grab your arm, no doubt resulting in another great shot for the tabloids. While he knew the relationship was fake, he knew that you leaving would interfere with his father’s plan, you were a crucial factor.

“This was a mistake.” You shook your head, and pulled your arm from his hand.

As you exited the restaurant, Thomas was furious, his father was going to kill him, the election was in three days. A tank in the polls this close could ruin everything!

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“You had one job! One stupid girl! And you couldn’t even do that!” The mayor yelled at his son. Slapping the newspapers onto the table before him. Various headlines exposing his escapades and tell-alls by the young models he’d been courting. He and Stark were finished, and it had ruined everything his father had been planning. The one on top mocked how the mayor had lost reelection by only a thousand votes.

“I’m sorry!” Thomas tried to defend himself.

“You’re useless, you’re never going to make it in this business. Do you know what they’ll do to us now that I’m no longer mayor?” His father scolded him. He worried that without his government connection the other mafia Families would no longer find him useful, and they’d push them out.

“I do know something...” Thomas spoke quietly, unsure if he should share. This caused his father to stop for a moment and raise a brow, but his phone rang, shifting his attention.

“What?” He answered the phone, rudely.

“Deals off.” Thomas recognized the voice of Toomes on the other side.

“What?” His father asked once more, this time his tone was pure anger.

“You can’t even hold the mayor’s seat, you’re not holding up your side of the bargain. We needed you as a segway to the other Families, and to protect what we’re doing here from the law. You don’t have that power now, you’re no longer of use to us. Deals off.” Toomes ended the call, your father threw the phone down with a crack as it shattered. His eyes traveled back to his son, hoping he had something good, a saving grace.

“Go on.” His tone changed.

“I- I think there might have been some truth to those Spider-Man rumors. I wasn’t over that night. And after they came out she was very quick to rekindle for appearances sake.” Thomas explained his theory.

“That could work... that could be our bargaining chip to Toomes. We give him Stark, he cuts us back in. He just lost the support of the Families, he’ll be desperate. The fucking Spider has already fucked with his business once. Stark was already a liability with his plans, and if Spider-Man catches wind of what they’re planning he��ll try to stop it,” He smiled sinisterly, rubbing his hands together in thought.

“Two birds one stone.” The mayor smiled, dark thoughts swirling through his mind.

“What are you going to do to her?” Thomas asked hesitantly, yes he was mad at you, but that didn’t mean he wanted you to get hurt.

“What has to be done.” His father smirked, and Thomas didn’t like what that could mean.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Taglist in the reblog. Please please comment and let me know what you liked, what you want to see more of, and what you think is going to happen next!

Don’t worry, more Peter coming soon! Sorry, gotta build the storyline lol

[just-another-ficwriter]

Betrayal - Part Two

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Words: 2100ish

Warnings: Lying

Summary: When the reader’s past comes back to haunt her, she stands to lose everything; her friends, her boyfriend, the life she’d built for herself. With Sweet Pea refusing to talk to her, she agrees to do the one the she thought she’d never do.

Notes: The final part to my first request, thank you so much @rye128! I hope you like it!

Read part one here

“Damn it Pea!” Toni hit out in the door one last time, followed by a swift kick and string of curse words that even had Jughead impressed.

“What’s that door ever done to you?” He smirked, watching her from his trailer, glad he wasn’t in her firing line.

“I’m not in the mood Jughead.” She huffed, the anger radiating from her as she shot him a deathly glare. “I know you’re in there SP.”

“He’s still not coming out?” Toni practically scowled as Jughead stated the obvious and again, he found himself thankful for the distance between them.

“Nobodies seen him in week.” She admitted, shoulders deflating in defeat. After the truth had come out, Sweet Pea has become secluded, locking himself away and even choosing to skip Serpent meetings as well as school. 

“He just needs some time.” The uncertainty in Jughead’s voice deceived him as he tried to convince Toni as well as himself, the situation affecting them all.

“Don’t suppose you’re seeing Betty today?” Toni looked between Sweet Pea’s trailer and a confused Jughead, an idea already forming.

“I’m about to meet her at Pop’s, why?” He asked, already wary of where this was going, the smile growing on her face only adding to his doubt.

“I have an idea.” As Jughead watched her jump on her motorcycle, ready to follow him when he left, he wondered if things were about to get a whole lot worse.

-

“Don’t scream.” The words Betty Cooper whispered into your ear as she ushered your into an empty class room and locked the door had you wanting to do the exact opposite of what she told you.

“Betty what the hell?” You tried to make your self seem tough as you spun around to glare at her, but the look in your eyes must have given you away as she realised her mistake. The last few weeks had not been easy on you, and even though part of you knew you deserved it, that didn’t make it feel any less lonely. You watched as she held her hands up to show she meant no harm but Toni stepped out of a storage cupboard and interrupted her.

“It’s the only way we could get you to talk to me.” You looked to the floor to hide your guilt as Toni moved closer. It wasn’t that you wanted to avoid her. You’d just assumed that she’d be angry, that she wouldn’t want to talk. After all she had been Sweet Pea’s friend first and you had lied to everyone not just him.

“Look if this is about what happened...” Your voice trailed off as you tired to think of the right words to say but you just shock your head and gave up. “I already said I’m sorry.”

“It’s not about that. Not in the way you think anyway.” The small sympathetic smile she gave you surprised you as she pushed out a chair for you to sit. You took it, watching her cautiously as she chose to sit on the table in front of you. “I need you to explain to me why you did it.”

“Why would you care anyway?” You hadn’t meant for it to come out so bitter but your tone even had you grimacing as Toni sighed in frustration.

“Because you’re my friend.” She stared at you like it was obvious, her hurt evident before her expression soften again. “And I can’t bare to see Sweet Pea like this any longer.”

“I did what I had to do.” You were trying to convince yourself more than them, even though you knew you should have just been honest from the start, the idea that you’d hurt Sweet Pea had started to become unbearable at this point.

But then the words started spilling from your mouth and you didn’t know how to make them stop. You confessed that the ghoulies has found you at your lowest point, your parents had abandoned you, your grandmother had just died and you had no where to go. They offered you a roof over your head, something to call your own and despite the fact you hated everything they stood for you saw no other way. So you’d stuck to hiding in the background, doing the bare minimum that was required of you and desperately searching for a way out. Then eventually the ghoulies had crumbled after becoming leaderless and you’d stumbled across Sweet Pea.

“I know how to fix this.” She followed her words with a determined head nod, desperate to do anything to get both her friends back.

“You do?” You wiped away the tears that had escape down your cheeks, surprised that she even wanted to help at all.

“Have you even seen the film Dusk till Dawn?” It was the first time Betty had spoken in a while, but her words didn’t make you feel at easy neither did the grin on her face.

You had seen the film.

And you definitely didn’t like where this was going. 

-

Sweet Pea sat at the back of the Wyrm with a scowl on his face and his fist wrapped tightly around a beer bottle. He hadn’t been out in so longer that everything seemed louder than he remembered, the music giving a headache instantly as he wondered why he even bothered coming out in the first place.

“Cheer up, it’s your birthday.” Fangs playfully punched him in the shoulder but kept his distance, scared he might hit back.

“Yeah well, I don’t feel much like celebrating.” He snarled, drawing out a long sip from his bottle. The taste of alcohol no longer making his throat burn, he’d drunk too much of it that last few weeks in hopes of blocking you out only to find the more he drunk the more he thought of you.

Fangs replied with a defeated sigh, the pair of them sitting there in silence before FP stopped the music and walked out on stage.

“So some of you may or may not know but it’s Sweet Pea’s birthday today and we have one last surprise for him.” Sweet Pea looked to his left to finds Fangs grinning, while FP waiting for the thumbs up from Toni. “Happy birthday son.”

Several cheers erupted from around the room, the loudest coming from Fangs despite Sweet Pea’s annoyance. He shot him a confused look, desperate to find out what was going on when someone hit the lights except for the one on stage as the music started to play again.

When he heard the song he felt his stomach twist into a knot. The two of you had listened to it so many times before, spending hours driving around in his truck as it blasted from the speakers.

He stood to leave, the memories too painful to bare, but then Fangs grabbed his arm, yanking him back into place as he pointed towards the stage.

You tried to step in time to the music, but your heart beat was ringing so loud in your ears you couldn’t hear much else including the boo’s that FP was desperately trying to hush.

You’d been sceptical at first, Toni and Betty explaining the plan over and over until you accepted the idea. You were determined to show that you were sorry, that you were one of them now despite your past and that you’d do anything to prove it.

You found Sweet Pea at the back of the room, and for a split second your swore your saw his eyes roam over your hands as they slowly peeled away your clothes before they snapped back up to your face.

But the one look was enough to give you the encouragement you needed as you stood there in lingerie he’d bought you months ago and moved your hips back and fore. Your back met the poll as you spun around it, the serpent part of the dance coming to an end but your routine was far from over.

Just as the second verse of the song was about to play, both Betty and Toni joined you on stage making several people around the room gasp as jaws began to drop. But it wasn’t their sudden appearance along side you that had everyone shocked. No, it was the large python they held in their hands, the same python they were now placing around your shoulders.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you drew in a shaky breath. Your hands replaced theirs as you willed your body to keep moving with the music and your eyes flew open again, drifting back to Sweet Pea as Toni’s part of the plan truly kicked in.

Sweet Pea watched in awe, his heart pounding in his chest as his mouth become dry. He could barely believe that you were doing the dance in the first place yet along walking towards him with a snake wrapped around you.

You stopped dead in front of him, eyes locked with his as you moved up and down, desperately trying to keep calm so the python stayed in place. He heard someone wolf whistle from across the room and he had to refrain himself from reach out to you in a need to show everyone you were his.

His.

It had been a while since he’d thought of you as his, been a while since he’d wanted to. But now you stood in front of him, baring everything for everyone to see despite not knowing if it would even work, and that was something to admire.

But before he could do anything about it Toni and Betty we’re back, taking the snake with them so you could join FP back on stage.

“Well that was quite some show, huh?” FP smiled out at the crowd, their initial scepticism now replaced by cheers as he placed a hand on your shoulder. He turned to you, whispering how well you had done before wrapping your very own Serpent jacket around you, solidifying your place with them. “Give it up for Y/N.”

Betty was quick to join you back on stage, thankfully without the snake this time and as she dragged you away with her you barely had time to notice the way Toni and Sweet Pea were tucked away in a far corner, speaking in hushed tones.

-

“Leaving so soon?” The sound of Sweet Pea’s voice had you shivering more than the cold air ever could as you stepped out of the Wyrm and into the night.

“I was actually looking for you.” You admitted sheepishly, silence following for the next few minutes as the two of you simply stared at each other. It was the first time you’d laid eyes on him in weeks and the thought only made your heart ache more.

“That jacket looks good on you.” You watched as the corner of his lips turned up into a small smile, his eyes trailing over your leather clad arms before meeting your own again.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile back at him, your gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks blushed red.

“I talked to Toni.” His tone became serious as he shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the best way to approach the next subject. “She told me everything... about your past.”

“I never meant to hurt you Pea, I just wanted to forget about it.” Your voice cracked as you tried to explain, desperation filling your eyes along side tears. “When I met you, I wanted you to think I was a good person. You made me want to be a better person.”

You’d wanted for so long to explain the truth to him, to finally be honest with him. As you confessed, you waited for him to tell you that he was still angry, that what you did would never be okay but he surprised you by touching a hand to your cheek. “Did you really do that dance for me?”

“My way of saying Happy Birthday.” You laughed as he grinned at you, just happy to see a sight you never thought you’d see again. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Like I could ever get the image of you with that snake out of my head.” He was smirking now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as his hand drifted to your hip.

“Come on, I have another present I want to give you.” You eagerly gripped at his hand, pulling him with you as you turned to leave.

“Lead the way princess.”

Sweet Pea Masterlist

Forever Taglist: @p-marie-sp

Betrayal Taglist: @ryn128 @oopsiedoopsie @eleventhdoctorsangel @fuzzy-panda

Sweet Pea Taglist: @80sand90simagine

[idontfindyouthatinteresting]

So I surprised myself and finished The Last Of Us...

If you follow me on twitter (@ IDFYTI) you might have seen my troubles with this. I’ve actually owned The Last of Us Remastered for PS4 since I bought my PS4, a looonnnggg time again. It came with it free, along with Uncharted 4. Both as of a few weeks ago were still... in their... plastic. 

Sorry Troy Baker.

Anyway, whilst in lockdown I was like, I’m gunna actually play some of the games I’ve been hoarding for years, and tbh, I’ve finished ALOT of games during this time. However, The Last of Us was something I’d put off, I have a friend from Uni with an equal fear of anything with zombies in, she had tried the game, and not gotten far before it was too much for her.

But with the second one coming out, and it’s been in the back of my consciousness to do with gaming since it came out as a good game, I wanted to try. I was confident that I equally wouldn’t get very far but I thought if I don’t try I don’t know.

And initially I was like, no no, I can’t do this. I physically can’t do this, it scares me too much. I’m the first in line to admit that (ironically considering I’m a huge Hannibal fan) horror is not my bag at all. Honestly, playing it was almost a chore, I wasn’t interested I put it away and played other stuff for a while.

With equal honesty, I don’t know why I thought about going back to it, I put it in a “what should I play next?” poll to see whether that’s what people thought I should play and it won hands down. So I thought, lets try again and I finished it in a couple of days.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still terrified of the game, I still panic and avoid confrontation in it where possible and I’m pleased that the game encourages this behavior, makes me feel slightly less ridiculous. But my level of discomfort with the subject matter made it all the more surprising I managed to get through, not only that but fairly swiftly and I thought, why is that the case.

I think in this instance it’s a testament to the narrative and the characterization, that is what brought me back, made me want to continue. Joel and Ellie are wonderful characters who show genuine and believable development, it’s a really interesting relationship that I’m sure is only bound to get more interesting next month.

I loved the sections where your play flipped between them, and having to think through and work with 2 very different fighting styles was interesting. The size of the world and it’s detail is impressive considering the games’ age and I had a lot of fun scavenging around for things. I do enjoy the mental challenge of limited resources, organizing and using them and gosh are they limited in this game.

There were intensive areas of mental stress, but I think what games are doing better and better these days is adding stress free moments to assist in a greater deal of balance. Points where you feel intrinsically safe and that is bolstered narratively, using the sound and the performances. Points that spring to mind are walking through the forests and your first play as Ellie where you’re hunting the deer. These moments are really important, for me and based on responses to posts I’ve done about these moments in Uncharted, other people appreciate them too.

There is so much of a world, and world building that’s done that you miss if you’re in constant fear your character is going to die. 

If asked if I liked the game, I mean it’s hard to divorce these elements I like from the subject matter I find very difficult to consume, but I think I did enjoy it in the end. And I do want to play more. I’ve even pre ordered the second one.

Anyway, I just thought my about face was interesting and I wanted to write about it.

[better-be-reddie]

Absconding, Aberrations, & Alligators

'It starts with Richie standing on a small stage in front of a decent crowd. It's been a good four months since his giant fuck up in Chicago- four months since the great Sewer Tour sequel- working title. He's finally working to get his career back on its feet, before he no longer has an agent or manager or all the other people that make his career somewhat functional. They're starting him off small, a test run to see if he's over whatever mental breakdown that caused him to bomb his last show and cancel the tour he'd been in the middle of. Spoiler Alert: he was just getting started.'

or

Richie takes an impromptu trip to Florida, somehow it all works out.

Hey! So I posted this fic to ao3 awhile ago but now that I have a blog I’m porting it here too. Rated T for language I guess No warnings, just 11,000 words feat. Richie’s gay crisis.

It starts with Richie standing on a small stage in front of a decent crowd. It's been a good four months since his giant fuck up in Chicago- four months since the great Sewer Tour sequel- working title . He's finally working to get his career back on its feet, before he no longer has an agent or manager or all the other people that make his career somewhat functional. They're starting him off small, a test run to see if he's over whatever mental breakdown that caused him to bomb his last show and cancel the tour he'd been in the middle of.

Spoiler Alert: he was just getting started.

Apparently Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier was never really off his bullshit. It's just, the nearly nonexistent filter he did manage to keep was corroding faster than he could keep track. And if he's being honest, it didn't actually start on that meager lounge stage in LA.It didn't even start three months ago when answering a knock at his front door forced him face to face with one Edward Kaspbrak, fresh from serving his now ex wife-mother monstrosity divorce papers. 

"Just looking for a place to lie low for a bit." Eddie had shrugged in front of his small mountain of suitcases.

 "What and they ran out of fucking housing in New York?" Richie had come back with.

"Fuck you, man! You said if I ever needed-"

"Yeah yeah," Richie made sure to cut off the would-be rant, "Get in here then." He'd said, throwing the door open and stepping aside, letting Eddie into his sorry excuse of living quarters. 

He quipped and sassed his best in order to keep the fact that he was internally screaming hidden. Especially when he noticed all of Eddie's little facial ticks giving away just how abysmal he found Richie's standard of living. The thing was, when they had parted ways in Derry, Richie had been ready to let go, to push down his feelings and the impossible level of affection he'd held for his friend. Afterall he had lived twenty-something odd years of his life without Eddie, so he reasoned that he could keep on living without him. 

That's what he had told himself anyway, over, and over, and over in the month it took Eddie to just show up unannounced. Richie didn't want to admit just how awful his pining had gotten those four weeks alone, but it had been bad. Somehow being reacquainted with the man had set off his aching heart almost more than he could care to control. But no, this shitstorm he was about to set off didn't start that day three months ago, nor any of the subsequent days after wherein Eddie settled in and became an integral part of Richie's daily routine. It didn't even start those four months ago when Richie walked into that damn Chinese restaurant and saw Eddie for the first time in decades, which had him falling dick-first into one hell of a sexuality crisis. Again. It didn't start when they were awkward, gangly thirteen year olds and Richie was stabbing his hands full of splinters in order to carve an embarrassing hommage to his dear first love on the rails of the Kissing Bridge. If Richie was being honest with himself, which he rarely ever was, he would admit that it all started a good thirty-four years or so ago when Richie was fresh into the first grade. Sometime after he'd mastered his ABC's but before he got his glasses that would magnify his eyes and really solidify his place as a loser; early enough that Richie would brag about being a master of mud-pies but back before anyone knew he was certifiably blind, except for Stan and Bill who worked as mediocre guide-dogs while everyone else just labeled him as a clumsy kid.

 It was a cool fall day when Stan and Bill hadn't been around which left Richie particularly vulnerable to his "clumsiness", this time to the result of him tripping and scraping his hands up. Richie had huffed and tried to wipe the mud off his palms and onto his pants when a pair of sneakers entered his bleary vision.

 "You should really clean off that dirt." The newcomer spoke.

"What?" Richie had asked dumbly.

The smaller boy sighed and readjusted the fanny pack strapped to his waist before replying, "If you don't wash the dirt out and patch up your cuts they'll get infected and you'll die." 

Richie had been startled but also bemused. He got cuts and scrapes all the time, and was almost always covered in dirt from playing. 

 "I won't die!"

 The boy shook his head, "my mommy told me that if you keep dirt in a cut it'll go bad. You don't want to have to go to the doctor and sit in the awful rooms just to make sure they don't need to cut anything off."

 Richie laughed, "That sounds fake, why would they cut anything off?" 

"If the cut goes bad they might have to!" The boy spoke, growing irritable, "Know what? Forget it, I might have something in my pack." The boy dug around in his overly stuffed fanny pack making Richie smile."Got it, now hold still and let me fix your gross hands." The boy said, followed with, "I'm Eddie, by the way." 

Richie's smile grew at how the boys- how Eddie's voice turned shy as he introduced himself.

"I'm Richie."

 It was that moment, decades ago on a school playground, that had started the chain of events that would build, and build, and build until Richie was so unbelievably in love that he would never really be able to move past it. It was the first domino in a series of ridiculous and probably ill advised life decisions that would leave him standing on a small stage in LA about to segue into his next joke featuring the infamous "girlfriend" character his writers just loved him to bitch about. It was a bit that he had rehashed over and over in his different routines, this new variation he had mastered last week before ever setting foot in the small lounge.

That was probably why his mind was elsewhere as he began, he was debating in the back of his head what Eddie would like for dinner later, whether he should pick up take out on his way home or   it took him a moment to realize that the next words out of his mouth were not exactly what he'd practiced from his script, 

"So, my boyfriend Eddie and I decided to try and -" Richie stumbled on the sentence, his brain kicking in a moment too late as a couple surprised noises came from the audience, and a few claps and hollers rang out. 

Thirty- something odd years of pining and daydreams of the day he'd finally get to call Eddie his had finally broken through his shitty barrier and merged his fantasies with reality. Boom. Domino effect.  

Richie began to realize not only had he just come out, unscripted onstage, but also that this show was being streamed online...live. 

He also knew that he couldn't afford to fuck this up, or make it look like he'd fucked up again so he stumbled his way through through rest of the sentence and ad-libbed the joke with alarming grace considering he felt like he was about to throw up. 

His manager was going to kill him.

He knew taking it back would have only ruined the show made it even more impossibly awkward, so he pushed on until the act was complete, rushing off the stage a little more quickly than he normally would, if only so he could hide behind the scenes and panic good and proper.

If Richie's manager didn't take him out in the next five minutes, Eddie surely would.

---

Richie had less than five minutes alone to panic in the dingy back hallway that lead to the club's emergency exit before his manager was marching up to him.

"You had one job!"

 "I-I know!" Richie said, voice possibly a tad strained.

 "Rich, what the hell."

 "I know !"

"You're single handedly making me go grey! Okay calm down- we can- we can roll with this- see online opinion polls and then come up with a strategy. God we might have to renegotiate-"

But Richie wasn't listening to him anymore, he didn't have the brain capacity to listen or be grateful to the man who had, once again, watched as Richie doused himself in gasoline and lit a match. He should have felt bad for the guy, and maybe when his own panic died down he would, his manager was only trying to offer an extinguisher. He definitely felt like he was on fire- and not in the good way of speaking. Sweat dripped off his brow and his skin prickled as his stomach churned, twisting and writhing itself into knots. All he seemed to be aware of was the near constant vibration against his thigh that his phone was giving off, as it blew up with notifications. 

Richie's hands shook as he reached for his device, the finger scanner refusing to work due to the alarming dampness of his hands. He unlocked the phone using his code instead and balked at the notifications. He could see Bev’s name pop up next a bold 10 to indicate how many messages she alone had sent so far, and the little numbers over his text app were steadily going up as the rest of the losers blasted him. 

Great.

 Good to know he had an audience.

His heart seized as the screen changed suddenly and Eddie's picture took over, blocking his home screen. It was a great picture, a wonderful candid Richie had taken of Eddie in one of his full blown road rage meltdowns. Richie had laughed heartily when he'd seen how the picture turned out; Eddie, on the other hand, had been less pleased and demanded he delete it. Naturally Richie made it the man's profile picture instead. The photo always managed to get a giggle or smile out of him as if he were some schoolgirl with a crush. He wasn't laughing now. His eyes darted between Eddie's comically angry face and the green answer call button. Richie felt frozen unable to respond as the tightness in his chest grew, he felt dizzy as the walls closed in around him. The vibration of the phone stopped and the screen flipped back to his home page. A new notification for another missed call appeared, followed seconds later by a notification for a new voicemail. 

Richie gasped and began to move quickly towards the exit door shouting an excuse to his manager who called out in alarm behind him. He all but fell against the metal door and staggered out into the hot LA sun, the thick air and humidity nowhere near the relief he wanted against his already flushed skin. 

His phone jumped to life once more, vibrating in his hands as Eddie's familiar picture flashed onto the screen once more. Richie gulped and swiped over the green answer button and brought the device up to his ear with shaking hands.

"Richie? Fucking finally- what the hell?" 

Richie's eyes widened and he quickly hung up, nearly dropping the phone in order to do so. He didn't know whether to laugh or scream, an uncanny hysteria bubbled in his chest and everything just felt like too much. Eddie must hate him. There was no way he couldn't. His phone alerted him to text another text. 

Eddie.

'You better have been disconnected.' 

Richie's phone rang again. Richie swiped to ignore.

 'Pick up. We need to talk.' 

Panic seized him. There was literally no good reasoning behind the phrase ' We need to talk.' God, he even added a period at the end. His phone rang. The panic boiled, crested in a mind blanking peak. 

Richie blinked owlishly at the broken remains of his phone. Shattered against the dirty pavement of the alley. Great.

 "Hey...Rich?" 

Richie definitely did not jump. He turned to see his manager behind him, peeking out from the door.

 "You good bud?" 

He was definitely not good. 

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry."

 "Okay, okay, you sure? Cause you sort of seem not good?" 

Richie had a strong sense of deja vu all of the sudden. He shook his head. His mind was coming back online and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He couldn't just stroll into his house like nothing was wrong, Eddie was waiting for him at home and Richie liked his dick attached to him thanks. He looked back to the shattered phone. 

"Hey can I borrow your phone?" His manager side-eyed him dubiously, cautiously and then the broken phone on the ground.

 "I guess- as long as it isn't going to end up like that."

 -

Richie's first instinct had been to call Bill, he was closest afterall, and he was the man with a plan; but that would have been his most obvious move. Eddie would no doubt storm the place in the midst of a rage so deep Richie didn't even want to picture it. So Bill had been mentally crossed off his list. Stan, Richie loved , as much as he could platonically love someone, but that would be obvious too. Plus he and Patty had been on somewhat of a retreat. Something about doing something relaxing and therapeutic after nearly dying and Richie really didn't feel like intruding on that. Beverly would have his back. She would laugh in his fucking face, but she would also give him one of her hugs after and let him mope. The problem with Bev though, is that she came with Ben. Now Richie adored Ben, it was literally impossible not to, however all it would take was one angry look from Eddie and the man would crumble faster than a house of cards in a hurricane. He couldn't lie for shit, especially when emotions were high. And that really left Richie with one last alternative. Which is how he found himself stepping off a plane, with no more than his wallet and the clothes on his back, half way across the god damn country, in fucking Florida. Richie looked around the airport as if it had personally offended him, and honestly it sort of did simply for being located in such a subpar fucking state. He really didn't see what the hell Mike saw in the place. He really didn't get it. Speaking of Mike.

"Richie!"

 Richie looked up and saw the man of the hour waving him over. Mike beamed at him and greeted him with arms wide open.

 "It's good to see you man!" Mike said,

"Yeah, yeah you too." Richie agreed.

It was good to see Mike again, they'd stayed in contact the same way they all had; through group chats and Skype calls mostly but this was the first time since they all separated in Derry that Richie had seen Mike in person. He really wished it was for better reasons. And not in Florida. 

"Alright, let's get your bags and then we can head out. There's a good diner not far from my place, I think you'll enjoy it." 

Richie shuffled awkwardly, "I'm all here man!"

 Mike looked confused for a moment then somewhat incredulous."You- you're all-? Did you not bring anything with you?"

 "I said it was an impromptu trip didn't I?" Richie said.

The look Mike shot him appeared as if he were waiting for Richie to crack a joke, when none were forthcoming his brows raised.

 "Alright man. I guess we can stop and pick you up some stuff you'll need. I have an extra toothbrush at home you can-" 

"You were always the most prepared outta us!" Richie cheered possibly putting too much energy into a...toothbrush. 

Richie knew it was weird, the whole situation was weird. He knew it was weird, and he knew Mike now knew it was weird. He could only hope that his fake enthusiasm could be obnoxiously distracting enough that Mike would let it slide unquestioned. 

"Uh-huh." Mike said still eyeing him up, "Well, follow me I guess."

Richie breathed out a sigh that at least they weren't going to have this conversation in the middle of the Arrivals gate.

 -

Mike's home was small but cozy, it had the foundations of something older with character that had maybe been remodeled sometime in its recent history. The living areas were clean but cluttered; books, and notebooks, and loose leaf were strewn around in somewhat organized heaps that probably made sense to Mike and Mike alone. The home was nestled amongst a forest of tall trees and brush that gave a sense of privacy, and to the side was a barely visible trail which Mike had pointed to when they pulled up and told him went straight to a little beach. Richie had eyed it dubiously, on one hand, beach day but on the other hand, he didn't feel like running into any gators, or snakes, or whatever the fuck else lived in this hellscape of a state. If he wanted to die that badly he would've stayed in LA thank you.

The first night the two of them had enjoyed boxes of take out which were supplemented by maybe a bit too much alcohol. They talked into the night, catching up in a roundabout way that dodged the elephant in the room. Of course that was mostly in part to the way Richie would circle the conversation back around to another of Mike's many research projects whenever the man looked like he was readying himself to broach the subject on what the real reason for Richie's visit was. Apparently Mike had been in an out of service area at the time of Richie's show and either hadn't yet heard about the disaster that it was or was too polite to corner him about it. Still, it sort of left Richie feeling like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then again, that could have also been caused by the fact that he was still without a phone and thus had no clue how extensive the damage he caused actually was. Well, he had a tiny idea. He'd already ruined the best damn thing in his pathetic life, what did the rest of it matter? Richie ended up taking the bottle of vodka to bed with him that night.

 -

The next day Mike took them both into town to pick up some more things for Richie under the disguise of grocery shopping. During which, Mike casually asked if Richie was thinking of replacing his phone.

 "You said it broke right?"

 "Yeah," he sighed, " Yeah, okay I guess I should get on that." 

Before his manager had a full on aneurysm. He was sure his publicists were already dead from shock or stress.

After spending way too long in a small outlet shop in a nearby strip mall Richie finally had a new phone set up. Richie played with the device as Mike drove them back towards his house. He hadn't turned it on yet, he simply passed the phone from hand to hand, it gave him something to do. He got the same model as the one he'd broken so that he could keep using his old SIM card. He told himself that he would turn it on once he got inside, face the music. Of course once the two made it back Richie went about the rest of his day doing anything but set up his phone. Richie even let Mike lead him down the death trail to the small beach, which would have been really nice had it not been in Florida.

"And not a gator in sight!" Richie said enthusiastically as he sat on the sandy shore.

"You joke, but that pic I sent you guys last week was only a twenty minute walk from here, in a river that a-ways." Mike gestured behind and to the left of where they sat and Richie shot him a dirty look.

"I came here to try and relax." 

Mike only laughed. 

-

That night, after the sun had set in a myriad of colors much less impressive than the ones which shone in good ol' Cali. Richie found himself curled on a deck chair Mike had on his front stoop, watching the moths and other bugs circle the porch lights with an intense fixation, the darker it got the more of them had appeared. His phone was once again in his hands. It had been charging all afternoon, face down on the coffee table. He sighed and finally stopped his fidgeting to turn his attention to the device. He waited for it to load up after he turned it on. Before long he was staring at the familiar screen, there was only about a second of silence before the phone jumped to life and loaded the-

Jesus Christ -over a hundred notifications. He felt a little bad as he skimmed over the list of people vying for his attention, mostly he had messages from the Losers. Maybe it had been a kind of dick move to drop off the face of the earth for two days. He quickly turned to his email. He winced at the couple he had from sponsors. Well, former sponsors he assumed without having to open them.

He instead concentrated on the email from his manager.   

  'Alright  Rich,     I'm assuming you still have access to email, despite your sudden vacation but please make sure you tell me when you have a reliable phone, I'd like to discuss some things further.        Good news: Your live-stream is trending, and there's been a lot of supportive interest within a whole new demographic. With a little work-shopping we can pull this all back together and make something out of it.    Bad news: we lost a few sponsors, some of the higher ups weren't happy with your unpredictability. Also there's been some negative press from some previous demographics, as well as some confusion on whether you were serious in your bit.      After hashing things out with the team we think you should start forming more of an online presence, we are working on getting your Twitter verified. Make a statement, control the flow of rumors, if you would like I can talk to the writers about coming up    with a statement for you. We need to encourage support from this new demographic by reassuring people your coming out bit  wasn't just a bad joke.      Call me once you've read this, and get your ass back to LA.' 

Richie let out a shuddering breath. A bit of the hysteria he had felt back in LA had begun to crawl up his spine. He could feel his pulse quicken at the mere thought of taking to social media, especially to what? Tell everyone he's gay? Again? Hadn't the first time been horrific and awkward enough?

His teeth clenched together as he worked his jaw until it ached, his breath seemed to burn his nostrils and tightly wound throat with every motion. Emotion thick and cloying wrapped around him until he felt as if he were drowning. He felt the sudden urge to jump up and run. As if he had anywhere to go in fucking Florida that wouldn't end with him in the jaws of some ugly reptile.

He placed his phone to the side and rubbed his hands together, feeling inexplicably dirty suddenly. He had run half way across the country and he still felt just as bad as he had in LA. All the gross intrusive thoughts were still there, the voices telling him how disgusting he was, how he'd disappointed his friends, driven them off. That he'd wind up sad and alone again. Behind that overwhelming fear was shame, shame that he had been lying for so fucking long, and yet behind that was the fear of anyone finding out, which circled back to more shame over his feelings to begin with. He shot his phone a scathing look. His manager wanted a statement? What the fuck was he supposed to say? What the actual hell was he supposed to Tweet out?  ' Hi guys, it's true, I love cock but don't worry I hate myself more than any of you ever could!' ? Yeah, like that would go over well.  Richie tried to amuse himself by picturing the look on his publicists face. God, it was suddenly even more tempting. Though he really couldn't afford to lose another one, especially while dealing with this latest fuck up. He wondered if he should finally face the music, open up all of the Losers unread messages. He opened his messenger app and immediately felt even more overwhelmed. His thumb hovering over the list of names. His eyes fixated on 'Eds '. Still, he hesitated. Terrified by what he'd see. 

A small part of him tried to hold onto the sliver of optimistic news his manager had relayed, however it seemed slippery and hard to keep hold of it lieu of all the other shit. He pressed down over Eddie's contact name and held until it highlighted and with shaking hands he quickly deleted the message thread, erasing all of their previous conversations as well as the slew of unread messages. Almost immediately he felt as if his stomach had fallen into his gut. Regret and fear churned in him and he felt more strongly than ever as if he'd lost something. Richie startled as his phone buzzed obnoxiously; he looked down, heart in his throat, expecting to see Eddie's picture and was surprised to instead see Stan's.

He swallowed thickly before accepting the call.

 "Hello?" Richie winced at how tepid his voice sounded.

"So, he is alive." Said Stan, dryly. 

Richie groaned and slumped even lower in his chair, covering his face with one hand as if blocking his vision could also block out his embarrassment. There was a beat of silence before Stan asked,"So, what's going on Rich?"

And Richie couldn't help it, all the stress and emotional upheaval- that fact he was in Florida of all places - hit him all at once and bubbled up. First as a near silent giggle, then falling apart into gasping, full bodied laughs. Tears tracked down from his cheeks and Richie honestly couldn't tell what sort of emotion was behind them. Stan, bless his heart, waited patiently for him to gather his wits and calm himself down before prompting him again with a: "Yeah?" 

Richie nodded despite knowing no one could see him, "Yeah." He agreed.

"The groups been pretty worried." Stan pushed gently. 

"I- I don't know what to say." Richie admitted, feeling his guts churn with unease. 

"Well, that really is something isn't it?" Stan said, "not everyday we find something that shuts you up."

 And Richie can't help the startled laugh that escapes his throat. Despite his unease, his fear, the smile doesn't leave right away."It's been an eventful few days." He finally agrees.

"And how do you feel?" 

Richie pulled a face, "Who are you? My therapist?"

 "Pretty much except the pay is shit. Now answer the question." 

Richie sighed, "I feel-" he cut himself off trying to discern a word he could use, "bad." 

Surprisingly Stan didn't mock him for his eloquence, or lack thereof.

Richie tried again. "I'm…" 

His guts continued to knot and squirm until he had to physically draw up his long legs to his chest, hoping for a respite, "I feel kinda sick." 

"You always did get queasy when your nerves were high. You threw up on the first day of school." 

"How the fuck do you remember that?" 

"Like I'd ever let you forget. You threw up all over Greta Keene's light up shoes." 

Richie groaned, "I mean, she kinda ended up deserving it?"

 "True." There was another beat of silence, but this one was much less awkward. 

Richie looked out into the dark foliage, lost in thoughts. "I can feel you thinking." Stan said softly. 

"I fucked up." 

"A bit, but probably not as much as you fear." 

"I-I doubt that. Did you- Did you see it? The show?" Richie asked tentatively. 

"Yes," Stan said after a moment's pause, "not while it was live...but afterwards." 

"Then you know I fucked up." 

"Yes, but as I said-" 

"I don't know what to do." Richie interrupted Richie could hear Stan sigh through the phone. 

It didn't sound like a noise made out of frustration but Richie's own self doubt was making him question everything.

"It's okay to be scared."

Richie felt his throat constrict at the words and he had to close his eyes against their sudden burning. He suddenly really wished Stan was here with him.

"I- I am. Scared." He said, haltingly.

"That's okay. You're not alone though, you know that right? You don't need to be alone." 

"What if- what if they hate me?” ‘What if he hates me?’

“They could never. There's no way you're getting rid of any of us that easy." 

Richie let out a humorless chuckle. 

"Why do you think they would hate you?" Stan asked softly, though the question felt more like a prompt than asked out of genuine curiosity.

Stan always had a way of sounding older than he was, like he already knew the answers he was trying to make you understand as well. Richie felt suddenly off kilter as he wondered if Stan had somehow already known.

"Because-- Because I'm- Gay." He swallowed down the bile that suddenly threatened to rise up. He had never said it before. Not out loud and never to anyone else. 

There was a pause as Stan waited to make sure Richie had said all he was going to before answering.

"Richie." He said, "None of us think any differently about you. You need to know that." 

"How- how do you know- I mean what if-"

 "None of us think any less of you. I'm not going to say this isn't a big deal, because to you it is. This is, well, it's obviously been something eating away at you. And sure, maybe you decided to come out in somewhat of a dramatic fashion and freaked yourself out, but you don't have to face all of this alone. We are going to be here to support you one hundred percent." 

Richie sniffed back a few wayward tears that threatened to escape. 

"Are you...are you sure?"

 "Have you read any of the messages they've sent you?"

"No- I- no."

 "You should. I think it will help. Also everyone was super worried when you went AWOL. You are...safe aren't you?" 

Richie felt a pang of guilt at the hint of unease that marred Stan's voice. 

"Yeah. Yeah I'm safe." He eyed the bushes warily, "as safe as I can be."

 "Good. But...I could be in LA in just over a day you know." 

Richie felt his heart swell and he wiped away a stubborn tear that refused to be pushed down. "Thanks, but I'm okay...plus I'm...not exactly in LA right now." 

"You're not?" Stan said sounding a bit alarmed. 

"Nah, taking a small vacation."

 "Have you told Eddie? He's been-"

"We haven't spoken."

"Richie." Stan sounded tired now.

"I - I can't, okay? You saw the fucking show. What the fuck am I supposed to say to him now? 'Hey! So I told the whole world about my big gay crush on you! Oh, by the way, I have a big-'" 

"Richard!"

 "What!" 

"Promise me you'll talk to him. Whatever happens, it won't be as bad as you're making it out to be in your head."

 "Fine." Richie said begrudgingly followed closely by a put upon huff.

"Thank you. Now, will you be okay?"

 "Yeah," he said, and though it was with little confidence, a little was still more than he'd felt previously. 

"Good. Call me anytime if you need to talk. But you should try messaging the others, I know they'd like to hear from you and...they'll understand Richie. Losers gotta stick together." 

Richie smiled despite himself. "Losers gotta stick together." 

He parroted back. 

"And call Eddie." 

"Okay mom."

"I'm being serious Richie." 

"Goodnight Stanley!" 

Stan sighed but gave in, "Goodnight." 

Richie took the phone away from his ear and ended the call. He sat staring at the screen until it flipped automatically back to his homepage. He hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening his messaging app. He clicked on the first name on his timeline list and began to scroll, eyes darting over the string of texts, a small smile making its way into his face as he took in the words of, yes shock but also support. Once caught up, he moved on to the next Loser until he had read through them all.  And no he definitely didn't cry. 

Well, maybe only a little. He felt another pang of loss when he remembered just why Eddie's name wasn't on his messaging list. He quickly opened up a new message draft and selected Eddie's name off his favourites list and then froze.

 Stan's words played over in his head, encouraging him. All Of his friends show of support warmed him to his core, he could do this- A loud rustle from the underbrush sent Richie's heart jack-hammering in his chest. He froze, wide-eyed as he stared into the dark. A loud snap of a twig sent Richie vaulting over the side of the deck chair and nearly ripping the screen door off its hinges in his haste to get inside.  'Not today Satan', he thought as he slammed the front door closed behind him and slid the deadbolt into place. Richie huffed and wandered over to the pullout bed that had become his new home and collapsed onto it. He looked at his phone once more, and the opened draft before he deleted it and turned the device off. He'd message Eddie tomorrow.

 -

Richie did not message Eddie the next day, nor the day after that.However, in his defense, he had been busy. Richie helped Mike with odd jobs around his property and was becoming more and more convinced that there was a large reptilian monster of some sort living on the grounds. Mike could roll his eyes all he wanted but the truth of the matter was that one day Richie swore he saw scales moving slowly through the brush. 

Richie had also taken up his managers challenge and started trying to revamp his online presence. Now that he was officially verified he began, as the young ones would say, shitposting. His first order of conduct being a small tweet which read:

Richie Tozier @OfficialTrashmouth 'Turns out my biggest joke was pretending I was straight.' It had taken him a good three hours of nervous sweating before he had finally been able to post the tweet but he had also felt an immense sense of relief after receiving a screenshot of his own tweet from Bev minutes later followed by some words of love and way too many emojis. The rest of the losers had also sent their love and support through the group chat and private messages. He mostly ignored his twitter feed though, he had made the mistake of checking up on the tweet and its relevance earlier and had immediately felt overwhelmed. Not to say that most of the feedback was bad or anything, however as someone who had spent such a long time clinging to a carefully constructed persona, suddenly being unmasked and thrust into the spotlight was...scary. it was hard not to feel the shame and frustration he had been fighting off all his life. 

Later, Mike had proven that he wasn't as much of an internet phobic recluse as Richie had begun to believe him to be, when over dinner that night he had clapped Richie on the back and told him only a little awkwardly that he was happy for him and that he hoped he could live the rest of his life with more confidence in who he was. Which? Okay, damn.

Richie had simply nodded, taken aback from how touched he'd been, luckily Mike had not seemed to be expecting anything back from him and the rest of the night flowed into something more familiar. Before they split for the night to retreat to their own sleeping arrangements, Mike asked if he had spoken to Eddie yet. 

"Bill said Eddie was sounding pretty worried about you."

Richie had felt the swirl of something related to guilt settle over him, leaving him feeling restless with a negative energy he couldn't quite shake off. 

"Eddie's a big boy, he'll be fine." Richie said, mind already wandering and worrying.

 Mike sighed but let it drop before wishing Richie a good night. Another day another battle.

 -

Richie lay awake well into the night, going over all the little dominoes that had fallen over and lead him to where he now was. Which of course meant that, mostly, he thought of Eddie. He reminisced about hot summer days spent by the quarry, of nights spent tempting Eddie out of his bedroom window to go look at the stars, he remembered the nights when they would talk about all the things they wanted to do with their lives, about how much they wanted to leave Derry behind but never each other. Their pinky fingers interlocking in quiet promises that extended far beyond the reaches of Derry. 

He wondered a little bitterly how he could have kept his feelings contained even as long as he had, when there had been so many moments, so many times when he felt ready to explode with them. All the times he felt the need to pull Eddie’s metaphorical pigtails because he just couldn’t stand not being the center of his attention any longer. God, had he gotten good at it though. He couldn’t help but smile as memories washed over him, so precious for how long he’d gone without them. A chasm opened up in his gut though as his thoughts drifted back to his future, and its shaky foundations- hell, it didn’t even have foundations to be built upon. All Richie had was an email from his manager and the knowledge that Eddie must hate him. The thought of moving on with his life without Eddie by his side somehow seemed so improbable, so completely terrifying that Richie’s chest seized considering it. He wondered angrily where his conviction he’d had just over a month ago had gone. When he’d been so ready to keep lumbering onward. Maybe he had succeeded simply through lack of foresight. By waking up each new morning with a heavy despair in his chest and starting his day by pushing it down, down, down, before he could find the curiosity to examine it. By busying himself with distraction after distraction. 

He wondered why his patented technique wasn’t working now. 

Eddie had stepped into Richie’s apartment and scrubbed it until it sparkled and he must have done something to Richie himself as well. It was like the moment Eddie had stepped back into his life he’d swept away all of his previous coping mechanisms. Richie felt a wave of irrational anger suddenly. Anger at Eddie for throwing his life off its axis by his mere presence, at himself for growing comfortable with it so damn quick that he’d tricked himself into believing it was permanent. 

Richie stewed in his tumultuous emotions in the darkened living room of Mike’s Florida home with nothing to distract him from his circling thoughts and growing loneliness except the obnoxious singing of the swamp insects that inhabited the area.

 -

“It’s not a swamp.” Mike said, shaking his head and fixing Richie with a tired look.

“Listen, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a-”

“It’s a floodplain.”

“It smells like shit and is full of fucking snakes and gators Mikey.” Richie argued sometime during the next afternoon.

He’d gotten a somewhat fuzzy photo of a snake curled up next to a tree by the water and had uploaded it to his Twitter account with a “ Get out of my swamp!” caption and had been arguing with Mike on and off ever since.  Honestly Richie had been on a roll with creating a new Twitter, uploading mostly photos and quips but he wasn't really in the mind to be too serious while on the platform. His manager was still thrilled.

“What is with you and the alligators?” Mike questioned with a shake of his head, “You haven’t seen one since you got here and you’re still somehow obsessed.”

 “Do you know how old those things are Mike? They are nature's perfect killing machine. Evolution fucking stopped cause it got it right on like the first go, it just just paused long enough to make them a little smaller. They were here before us and will probably outlive us.” 

“Eddie tell ya all that?”

Richie scoffed and made a bit of looking awfully offended. Mike laughed so he counted it as a win. Sort of. 

“...speaking of-” Mike began.

Richie’s gazer darted to Mike, eyes narrowed.“He called this morning.” Mike continued.

Richie felt his heart rocket into his throat and his stomach drop into his gut so quickly he had to swallow down the urge to dry heave onto the sand. 

“What?” 

“He’s looking for you. Did you honestly not tell him where you were going?”

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” Richie gasped.

“Hey now- calm down Richie. He just sounded really worried.”

“Did you tell him?” Richie demanded. Mike sighed then replied, “I told him I’d get you to call if you popped up.”

Richie’s eyes narrowed but he wasn’t such a dick that he would call Mike out for lying without proof. “I can’t face him right now.”

“Why not? I mean, it sounds like you have a lot to talk about.”

“Nope.”

“I saw the video.”

“Oh for fucks sake!” Richie threw his arms up, “Isn’t privacy a thing anymore?”

“You live streamed the show Rich, I don’t think privacy was a concern at the time.”

Richie folded his arms and scowled. 

“Listen, just, call Eddie. Before he drives Stan and Bill crazy.”

That made Richie pause, “Stan and Bill?”

“If you would go into the group chat instead of hiding you’d know what I mean.”

“The moment I go on everyone will be able to see, including Eddie, so.” Richie shrugged, “No group chat.” 

“Full offense, bud, but you’re treating this whole thing like a child would.You won’t be able to avoid Eddie forever.” 

“Watch me.” Richie muttered, knowing full well that he was only reaffirming Mike’s accusations.  Mike rolled his eyes but seemed to give up the argument and left the porch to retreat back inside to let Richie mope in peace. Not long later Richie heard the shrill ring of Mike's home phone. Why the man bothered to have a home phone instead of working off a cellphone like a normal person Richie would never know, regardless, he couldn't pick up what was said from where he sat.  A few minutes later Mike was back out on the porch.

 "I'm going into town for a bit. Got some errands to run. Why don't you relax and think about what I said? Maybe call Stan." Mike suggested, shuffling his feet a little awkwardly. 

Richie took in the man's tense posture and shifting eyes. Mike was usually the type to stand strong, make eye contact as he spoke. Richie started to feel a little bad, thinking perhaps he'd been a bit too much of an ass today. 

"Sure, okay." He said agreeably in an effort to make up for his earlier prickliness.

 "Need me to pick you up anything?" Mike asked as he circled around his truck.

"No," Richie said, already feeling like he'd put Mike out enough for crashing at his abode for so long. 

Mike shrugged and tossed his keys with almost a nervous energy before nodding and saying "Alright, well, I'll just, uh, be going then." 

Richie nodded and waved him away, "if I'm not here by the time you get back, assume the gators got me." 

Mike huffed but there was a smile on his face as he hopped into the cab of the truck and started it up. He waved to Richie again as he circled around and started down the long drive to the main road. Richie was bored by then end of the hour. There was very little to do while in the boonies that didn't run the risk of being eaten by the local wildlife, especially without Mike there to help spot potential risks and watch his back. 

Richie wandered about Mike's home, exploring and generally being a nosy little shit. He was able to amuse himself for a good thirty minutes after he found an honest to God banjo tucked away in the attic. He brought it down to the porch ready to strum like mad and make a damn good nuisance of himself when Mike got back. However, as the minutes ticked by Richie's attention wandered and he poked around some more, flipping through Mike's extremely niche and weird collection of books, his notes, examining his bits and bobs. He took pictures of things he found particularly weird and bizarre, he was busy going through his photos and trying to think up anything that might have been considered funny to Tweet about, because that was really a concern now apparently, when Richie finally heard the telltale roar of Mike’s truck engine coming up the drive. He sort of hated the flash of excitement he got from the sound, he was a grown adult who should be in enough control over his life that he didn't rely on others to bring him amusement; of course that being said, if Richie had any semblance of control he wouldn't have even been in Florida, would he?

Richie stood up from the deck chair and raised a hand in greeting when the truck came into view, the banjo resting behind him ready to go. However, as the truck moved closer and the sun reflecting on the glass of the windshield shifted Richie began to become aware that Mike wasn't alone in the cab of the truck. Richie walked off the porch and into the front yard to try and get a better look but it wasn't until Mike was all but pulling onto the property that Richie's eyes locked onto none other than Eddie fucking Kaspbrak glaring daggers at him through the glass.

Now, Richie had experience many terrifying things in his life, the variety of traumas he had locked up would be enough to personally fund some lucky psychologist for years if he felt so inclined to go. So it's with great authority and experience that Richie swears that seeing Eddie fuming in the passenger seat of Mike's god damn car, in fucking Florida, was the second scariest occurrence he had ever witnessed. Only being trumped by the horrifying reality he'd been forced to watch in the deadlights. He knew he must have made one hell of a picture, still slightly hungover, hair unbrushed, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Richie felt frozen in shock at the sight, Eddie, his Eddie in fucking Florida. The truck had barely finished rolling to a stop before the passenger door was being thrown open and Eddie was bursting out of it like a mini tornado of rage.

Richie couldn’t help but note the state Eddie seemed to be in, hair usually perfectly groomed looked knotted and windswept, his skin pale despite having tanned in the LA sun and his eyes looked haggard, dark bruises from sleepless nights weighing heavily, even his usually ironed shirts and slacks looked wrinkled; his rough appearance did little to take away from the bright angry sheen in his eyes as he fixed Richie with a sharp look and began to march over. Richie had known for a long time that there was something seriously wrong with him, what, with his seemingly perfect ability to self destruct at every possible turn, however the point was really hammered into his head when the only thought that seemed to penetrate his shocked and empty brain was ‘My God he’s fucking gorgeous.’ 

That was until of course Eddie’s sneer picked up a notch and he opened his mouth to let out a scathing,

“You fucker!”  

Richie took a giant step back shaking his head eyes fixed so solely on the short angry demon marching up to him that he didn’t even see Mike get out of the truck afterwards.

“I can’t believe you! ” Eddie continued, “Don’t you dare take another step Richard, I swear to God!”

And all at once, all of Richie’s survival instincts were kickstarted back online.

“Nope!” Richie said, voice a little higher pitch in his fear, and he turned and ran. 

“RICHIE!” 

Richie didn’t turn to look back, he just went for it, dodging past Mike’s small home and straight into the Floridian woods. There wasn’t any logic to his actions, he didn’t even bother to stick to the trail, Richie simply pushed his way through the trees and grasses. He had no destination in mind, just the strong urge to run, much like the one he felt during all of his life's most uncomfortable moments. He ran, and ran, and ran, until he could no longer hear the sounds of Eddie and Mike calling after him. It was only when he felt like his chest was about to explode that he stopped to wheeze against a tree, he clutched at his side as he sputtered pathetically at the ground and silently cursed the decades he’d spent mostly ignoring his physical health. 

“Jesus fuck” He grumbled once he’d finally remembered how to properly pull air into his lungs and breathe. 

He took a moment to look around only to realize that he had absolutely no idea where he was. Mike had to have, like, neighbors somewhere, right? Richie groaned he knew this was stupid, he had nowhere to go except further into the Florida wilderness and that was one stupid way to die. Sighing, and mentally preparing himself, Richie turned to go back the way he thought he had come from. 

He snarled as he pushed his way through the thick bushes and trees grumbling at the sticks that caught the fabric of his clothes and scratched at his skin, he was going to look like he’d come out of a fight with a pissed off alley cat after this shit. God Eddie was going to be so incomprehensibly furious at him. He cried out in victory as he pushed through some particularly thick bushes, only for his cries to turn almost immediately alarmed when the ground under his feet seemed to disappear and sent him careening down a muddy, slick embankment and face first into green tinged waters. 

Richie resurfaced with a loud gasp as he flailed and coughed out a mouthful of disgusting water, swearing profusely. He splashed until he was able to finally get his feet somewhat stable on the thick muddy bottom of the riverway he seemed to have fallen into. The water luckily seemed to be slow moving without too much of a current.  It was however, quite deep, reaching up to his chest. He glanced around and cursed his luck, the river was narrow but he definitely didn’t recognize it. Which meant he had most definitely been moving in the wrong direction. He cursed again, this stupid shit wouldn’t have happened to him back in LA. 

All at once Richie felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as his whole body erupted into a strong shudder that had more to do with instinct than the cool waters. He turned, eyes darting back and forth along the murky water when movement locked his attention to the opposite embankment. Richie felt ice cold terror grip him as he watched a huge alligator pull itself down the muddy shore and slip gracefully into the slow moving water. Panic seized him and he spun around to begin clawing at the shoreline desperately, uselessly, his hands coming away with chunks of mud and grass, doing nothing to pull him out of the water. A noise he wasn’t proud of escaped from his throat as his mind whirled. This was not how he wanted to die, not in some fucking swamp water, not to a fucking alligator and certainly not in fucking Florida. 

He pulled himself along the shore trying to get to a narrower portion he could climb up when he heard a splash behind him. Richie didn’t turn to look though everything in him wanted to, but right in front of him was a tree, and Richie wasted no goddamn time pulling himself up. Thinking back, he had no idea how he found the strength to climb all the way into a tree when he could barely make it up two flights of stairs without needing to pause for air, but one moment he was in the water with certain death and the next, he was curled up in the branches looking down. Richie looked over the water and shouted out a relieved cry at the pair of reptilian eyes he could swear were staring at him, no more than ten feet away, 

“Yeah, fuck you! Not getting any of this today pal!” Richie laughed and felt himself sag against the scratchy bark, “Now just, go fuck off so I can leave.” 

He finished with a grumble. And then waited.

 And waited

And waited

And-

Richie was going insane, every time he would begin to think that stupid animal had finally buggered off, there would be a ripple in the water or he’d catch sight of a pair of eyes bobbing above the waters surface. He had no way to call for help, his phone abandoned somewhere back on Mike’s porch, and even if he had had it with him Richie wasn't sure the device would have survived his impromptu bath. He had tried calling out for help a few times but had gone completely unanswered. He was totally alone. 

Besides from stressful, being stuck in a tree because of a potentially murderous gator was beyond boring and extremely uncomfortable. There was nothing to keep his mind occupied and distracted enough from re-analyzing the series of events that had him stuck here in the first place, and the hot humidity in the air made it so he never really dried off from the water and instead just became more and more itchy and cranky. 

As the minutes dragged on into hours, he had taken to singing, badly, to himself when another sound caught his attention. Richie paused his singing to listen, ears perked for anything out of the ordinary. For a moment there was nothing, and then all at once he heard it again. His name, distant but there. 

“HEY!” Richie shouted as loud as he could, “OVER HERE!”

Richie felt an intense burst of relief as his cries were immediately answered by another shout of his voice and a barely heard: “ Where?”

“HERE!” He shouted again,

“Richie?!” Mike’s voice.

“BY THE RIVER!” He called out hoping Mike was familiar enough with the land that he knew what that meant. 

“ARE YOU HURT?” Eddie’s voice rang out, so much closer.

Eddie.

Richie’s chest tightened but he would willing sit through whatever lecture Eddie had as long as he got away from this stupid- oh god.

“WAIT!” He shouted, “BE CAREFUL! GATOR!”

“WHERE?” Mike again

“RIGHT FUCKING UNDER ME!” Richie yelled glaring spitefully at the large reptile that had decided to make camp on the sand, less than a body's length away from his tree. There was rustling in the undergrowth, and Richie knew they were close, 

“You’re close, I can hear you, be careful!” 

Moment’s later Mike and Eddie burst through the thick bushes with a swing of a long machete Mike was wielding. 

“Jesus, Rich-” Mike cursed when he got a good look at the precarious situation Richie had gotten himself into. 

Next to him Eddie wasn't doing much better.

“What the fuck? What the actual fuck Richie! Are you kidding me, are you fucking kidding me? Can you go literally nowhere without pissing shit off? That's a fucking alligator!” Eddie began screeching and pointing. 

“I fell into the water!” Richie tried to defend, 

“Oh my GOD!”

“Hang tight Richie, I’ll call the animal control or something I guess,” Mike said, taking out his phone.

Even as he did though, Eddie was bending down to pick up a large rock from the ground, eyes wild and half-mad looking. The smaller man grunted as he winded up and threw the huge stone, hitting the alligator right in the side with a thunk. 

“FUCK OFF!” 

“Eddie! Shit , Stop!” Mike cursed, phone half way to his ear. 

Eddie wasn’t listening as he picked up a large branch and threw that next, the gator made a loud hissing noise and thrashed it’s tail to the side, spraying sand into the air. Richie’s jaw dropped at the sight of Eddie attacking a fucking alligator, it honestly would have been the hottest thing he’d ever seen if he wasn’t so instantly terrified that it would end with Eddie dead. 

“Eddie, Eddie fucking stop it, I swear to god!” Richie said, even as he began calculating how he could throw himself onto the damn thing if it decided to charge his friends. 

Eddie picked up another large stone and threw it, cursing the gator out as it sailed through the air and hit the large beast right in the eye. The animal recoiled and Richie felt his stomach drop thinking that it was going to retaliate for sure and that he was going to have to die to try and stop it, but for once in his miserable life luck seemed to be on his side.  The alligator pushed itself quickly away, sliding into the water and making a B-line for the other side of the river.

Eddie barely took the time to breathe before he was yelling at Richie further,“Get down! Get down right now, or I swear to god Richie, I’ll use Mike’s fucking machete to cut the tree down with you in it and leave you to the swamp!” 

Richie was only scrambling to obey, and after nearly falling twice, his feet finally touched the ground. 

“Phew,” Richie said and whistled, “That was sure an adventure, huh guys? And you said this place wasn’t a swamp, I swear it almost smells as bad as-” 

“Beep beep, Richie.” Mike said, looking too exhausted.

Richie’s mouth snapped shut and he felt a little guilty for causing the man so much stress. He sighed as he walked over to the other two,

“Look, I’m-”

“Don’t.” Eddie said, cutting him off.

Richie looked at him and frowned, Eddie appeared more stony faced than he had been since he’d shown up hours before. 

“Mike, lead us back.” Eddie demanded.

Mike took a moment to look between the two before he nodded, “Sure, follow close and watch your step.” 

The walk back to Mike’s house was spent in mostly weighted silence that had Richie growing increasingly uncomfortable with each step he took. It was of immediate relief when they made it back to the small abode, Richie’s eyes were trained on the door as he made a B-line for it, he couldn’t be out of the open air fast enough, he needed a shower and maybe to sleep for like a week. He carefully wasn’t looking at either Mike or Eddie when he was stopped in his tracks by a hand gripping his sleeve. 

“Go on ahead Mike, we’ll be in in a minute.” 

Richie gulped nervously as he sent a silent plea for Mike to save him. Mike, though, barely took the time to glance at them before he was nodding and heading into the safety of the house. 

Richie took a deep breath and knowing that he couldn’t possibly run anymore turned to face Eddie. Eddie for his part seemed to be working himself up again, there was a deep furrow between his brows and his lips were pressed into a thin line. Richie waited a moment to see if Eddie would speak first, before he decided to just get it over with himself, he had barely parted his lips to speak when the silence of the early evening air was broken.

“Florida Richie? Fucking really?” 

Richie’s snapped his mouth shut.

“I can’t believe you just took off like that! You didn’t even text me! Do you have any idea what that was like? You just disappeared! Once I realized you weren’t camping out at Bill’s or Stan’s or-or the others, I freaked! I thought you were fucking dead, man! What the fuck!” 

“Wow, breathe Eds.” tried to deflect, noticing just how red Eddie’s face was getting.

“FUCK YOU!” Richie winced and looked to the ground. 

There was a beat of silence. 

“I looked everywhere for you, I was so worried,” Eddie continued, softer this time, “I even went through your phone numbers and called your manager, but he told me he couldn’t divulge any information about clients and-” Eddie sighed, shaking his head and said, “You can’t ever do this again.” 

“I’m sorry,” Richie’s heart was thumping in his chest. 

Eddie’s face twisted, “Why the hell did you take off like that?” 

“I-”

Richie didn’t even know where to begin, all of the past weeks emotions were battling it out in his chest and abdomen, made somehow even more striking with Eddie standing right in front of him, his fist still clenched around Richie’s sleeve as if he were afraid that Richie would bolt again if he let him go. Eddie was looking up at him, eyes cleared of the anger that had been burning so bright since he’d shown up, he looked confused, worried, and maybe something else that Richie couldn’t quite name. But he was looking at Richie with all of his attention, and god, Richie almost wished he’d never stop, never stop looking at him, holding him, it terrified him how much he wanted Eddie.

He almost cracked a joke, because of course he would, but he held back, swallowing it down at the last moment. The thought of lying to Eddie, was causing him even worse discomfort than he was already in. So, for the first time in a long time Richie decided to be brave.

“I was scared.” 

Eddie’s brow creased again. 

Richie took a shaking breath, “I was scared and I didn’t- I didn’t know what to do-”

“So you ran to fucking Florida?” 

Richie sighed and shot Eddie an annoyed look.

Eddie snapped his mouth closed and motioned for him to continue, “I panicked, and yeah, I ran to fucking Florida because-because even this god damn swamp was less terrifying than going home and having to- having to lose you and-”

“Lose me?” Eddie interrupted again looking impossibly more bewildered. 

“You-You saw the show. I fucked up- I know I did but-”

“Did you mean it?” Eddie said, cutting him off again.

“What?”

“In the show, was that- was that some sort of joke to you? Were you jerking me around or did you fucking mean it?”

Richie was sweating, he was sure of it, his wide eyes burned from how much he wanted to just blink, but he was frozen, everything around him seemed to have stopped, his field of vision narrowed down to Eddie. The rest of the world could have evaporated and Richie wouldn’t have known the difference. In the stillness, he knew that the next words out of his mouth were important, more important than anything else he has ever said. He could feel another one of his life’s dominoes tipping.

“Every word.” He whispered, “It wasn’t a joke, I hadn’t even meant to say it, but I did mean it, every damn word. I- I like you Eds, I have for years. Almost as long as I can remember, even when I couldn’t remember- it was always you.” 

The silence was deafening. All at once Eddie’s hand which had been holding his sleeve was gone and Richie felt as if his heart was going to shatter. He tried to prepare himself, for the rejection or disgust, but even so he wasn’t sure how he could possibly survive it. Suddenly, he felt hands clench at the collar of his shirt and yanked him off his center of balance, he barely had the mind to stop himself from falling before everything went blank and he died. 

Or at least, Richie was assuming that’s what happened because there was no way that Eddie would be kissing him otherwise, he had to have died. It took his brain a second more to realize that no, this was happening, Eddie was kissing him, and that he needed to fucking respond before he ruined it.

Richie brought his hands up, one to grip Eddie’s hip and pull him closer, and the other to gently cup his cheek as he finally began to kiss him back. All at once Richie felt himself settle, all of the turbulence and anxieties that had plagued him for as far back as he could remember finally dissipated, his head felt light as the elation hit him even as the heat coiled in his belly, grounding him. Richie could scarcely believe this was happening, he sighed into the kiss as he felt one of Eddie’s hands trail up to tangle in his curls.  

Eddie was the first to pull away, only when the need for oxygen grew too strong. Richie couldn’t keep the smile off his face as Eddie kept his hands on him, leaning up to rest their foreheads together, breathing the same air. Richie opened his eyes, unsure of when they’d even closed, and took in everything he could. The slight flush to Eddie’s cheeks, the small upturn of his lips that hinted at a smile, Richie wanted to kiss him all over again- and then keep kissing him. But before he could, Eddie was backing away.

“God I can’t believe I did that.”

Richie had a brief flash of anxiety as he suddenly worried he was about to lose it all.

“You were practically swimming in that swamp , god you’re filthy! Uhg, no, no more, go inside and shower right now! I’m not kissing you again until you do.” 

Richie’s face broke out into a huge grin, he didn’t know it was possible to feel this happy, the suddenness of it felt like getting whiplash. 

“But Eds-”

“No, absolutely not! And that’s not my name!”

Richie’s grin grew impossibly large as he opened up his arms and went in for a hug, delighting when Eddie screeched and tried to dodge him. The two of them chased each other up the porch and into the house, Richie giving up the game and instead taking Eddie’s hand in his, his stomach swooping pleasantly when Eddie not only allowed it but gave him a reaffirming squeeze. 

Yeah, they still had a lot to talk about but Richie had never felt more excited to do so.

-

It ends with Richie walking out onto a large stage in LA, his palms sweaty as he smiles and waves at the cheering crowd. There was a nervousness clawing at his chest as he made it to center-stage, but with it also a giddy sort of anticipation. He picked up the microphone and stared out over the audience, not seeing much due to the bright lights shining over him, but still the silhouettes carried a touch of intimidation. He breathes, smile growing as he greets his audience, his voice steady and loud, cheers rise up in accordance and he plants his feet, grounding himself, readying. Yet despite that, the usual pres-show dread that Richie is used to feeling crawl in his stomach is absent, in its stead is a right sort of deliberateness that he’s never felt while walking out in front of a sold out crowd- or any crowd for that matter, not since being picked up decades ago in LA. There’s something peaceful about the steadfastness of his conviction, about knowing however the audience takes this new show will be a drop in the bucket compared to the opinions of the people he’s already shared the script with. Eddie’s approval meant more to him than any of these fuckers combined. So it was easier for him now, more than any other time in his life to recite the words from his script- words he himself had written. 

Yes, he was nervous. But he was also resolute as he turned to look into the camera and the audience and say:

“So, my boyfriend moved in recently, like officially and-”

The smile that broadens Richie’s face is more genuine than any one he’d given on stage before as his audience hoots and cheers. Maybe he’d really send that fruit basket he’d been considering over to his publicist, or his manager for convincing him to take to Twitter to improve his fan-base. Fuck it, he’d send his whole team fruit baskets. A thank you to everyone who had been supportive of him, who continued to back him while he figured his shit out. People who gave him the opportunity to stand on stage and feel the pride that ballooned in his chest at each laugh and holler each of his jokes got. Pride was a feeling he’d had very little of in his life, it was hard to grasp when you’d spent most of your life in hiding. There were moments even now, despite everything, that had him instinctively wanting to curl up and slink away, because having pride in oneself is a learned behavior and one Richie was working on still. It got easier though, with every smile from his friends, any and every little touch Eddie blessed him with, and every morning he got to wake up and have Eddie right there next to him- everyday was full of little moments, little opportunities for him to feel so fucking lucky. So, yeah, walking out on that stage was an ending. A metaphorical book closing on a life lived in hiding and in shame- and he wasn’t going to miss a second of it.

Richie was starting a whole new novel, one composed of all those little and big moments worth holding onto, even if they were scary, maybe especially so; because for the first time in as far back as he could remember Richie wasn’t running away. He was pushing forward with the strength of more than just himself, and he was making a conscious decision to finally make his leap of faith, because even if he fell, he had six great people waiting to catch him. Richie pushed onward, because even though this was an ending, it was also the start of something so much greater. -