#just it all comes down to that Rule. the one they stick to mo matter the cost

[timbourinedrake]

reread the last few issues of Batgirl (2000) today and then went and saw The Dark Knight at the cinema

the parallels between Cass and Bruce are giving me brainrot. the fight to save everyone no matter who they are, only to end up getting more and more people killed leaving them to question whether there's any point to their moral code at all

[sunnykeysmash]

I was trying to work out the pyramid hierarchy for the gang and I think the reason it's a pyramid scheme is that NO MATTER WHAT, it eventually ends in mac and dennis joining forces to cut dee out of leader position.

A. If Mac rises too high, Dennis is bound to plummet without him, which eventually leads Mac to resume his position behind Dennis for support and it improves their overall relationship, which makes them gain power again. Mac high and Dennis low doesn't last long, and it only leads to their union strengthening.

B. If Mac sinks too low, but still directly behind Dennis, their relationship is still working properly and the conjoined power still hijacks Dee's leadership. May not be enough to be leader themselves, that's where Frank comes in if Charlie is below him for support (which, they flipped in s15, so that's not a thing anymore).

C. If Mac is at the bottom, and Dennis is above him, that's just point A again.

D. If Mac sinks too low, but Dennis is super high, you get a situation a la s13, Escapes. Dennis is still nominated leader due to Mac's intense and intrinsic power inside the group and his devotion to Dennis. They won't get along, but Dee is still barred from being leader. Dennis and Frank will fight for dominance (again, if Charlie is below him in this case), and the group as a whole will suffer greatly because of Mac and Dennis not being on the same front.

No matter what, however, the system is designed to cut her out. Because unlike Charlie, Frank, Mac and Dennis, Dee is the only one inside the group who is alone.

And no matter what, Mac is always playing both sides, so he always comes out on top. It doesn't matter if he's at the top of it, at the bottom, if it's upside down or right side up or whatever. His controlling and structured nature and devotion to Dennis will always work in his favor to basically have him control things behind the scenes. Whether he does it himself, or Dennis does it for him.

In fact, the gang was at its worst and least functional during the time where Mac decided to hand Dennis actual control. But even then, he couldn't help trying to run things behind the scenes. I want you to take the first half of Chokes into consideration for this. I say first half because the conflict is resolved with Mac understanding that Dennis DOESN'T WANT POWER (just the illusion of it). He wants to lead while Mac makes all the decisions.

The only ways Dee can win this game? Either destroy the whole pyramid itself, or find a buddy.

But I have a feeling what she's actually going to do is still ultimately try to play the game with their rules, not realizing it's rigged. She's gonna try to bring Dennis down to take his much sought after leading position now that she senses his weakness. But as I discussed, that's a game she can't win. And it could probably lead to Mac and Dennis' union strengthening significantly.

Now, something interesting @cutemeat said to me, makes me think it's not completely out of the realm of possibility that Charlie and Dee could team up to take them down and take power from them, especially now that Frank, like Dennis, is sinking, which means Charlie is rising as well. Kinda like the leaderboard in Big Mo, huh? Anyway, if this is the case, all I know is that Frank would eventually end up on the very bottom, as the new person without anyone else, IF Charlie and Frank don't make up. IF they do, which I think they might, Dee, as always, is gonna get screwed for trying to play the game, and is gonna draw the short end of the stick, like always.

Because in the end, the show told us.

"Bros before hoes".

And in a situation like this, if Charlie has to choose between Frank and Dee, I have no doubt he'd leave her behind... (and perhaps that was his whole plan, who knows!)

It is no man left behind after all... not so much the women.

And that's the way the pyramid works to me, pretty much. Designed to keep her out of power. And I think that's maybe even smart commentary for like... the patriarchy as a whole, huh?

[ddarker-dreams]

Yandere “MBTI”

Disclaimer: The yandere trope is not a portrayal of healthy or ideal relationships, but instead a horror-based genre meant to stick strictly to fiction. 

I was inspired by the MBTI type indicator to make something similar but for yandere characters! I am by no means an expert and it’s mostly just a fun little assessment on the yandere trope because I love personality test stuff. Feel free to send asks giving your own input and ideas!! 

Another preface, I think that yandere as a whole is complex and can’t be simply boiled down to a few terminologies and concepts. In doing so it loses a lot of nuance that’s unique to the trope/genre whatever you’d want to call it. So that being said I view this system to be more of a of how I generally think most yanderes operate, rather than a set of rules that must be followed. I say this because I’d hate to stifle any creativity that doesn’t strictly fall into it! A lot of these mix and match with one another as well, so it isn’t always 100% either-or. 

I’ve seen some of these concepts floating around before and I’m not claiming to be the creator of any of them!! I’m just giving my two cents on stuff I’ve seen before. 

That being said, let’s get started !! Underneath the cut for length.

Cruel vs. Reverent

This preference is how a yandere outwardly and inwardly acts towards their darling. 

Cruel yanderes often belittle their darling. These are the types of yanderes that see their darling as more of a playing than their equal lover, a way to pass the time or enjoy themselves. They test the limits of what their darling can handle, most often than not for their own entertainment and no practical usage. They’re capable of being degrading and sadistic, taking pleasure in whittling down their darling or molding them into something new entirely. How they do so can vary, but most commonly involves inflicting physical or heavy emotional strain. These yanderes are capable of feeling some twisted version of “love”, or feel nothing at all. 

Examples of cruel yanderes include Hisoka from Hunter x Hunter, Izaya Orihara from Durarara, and Rohan Kishibe from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures. 

Reverent yanderes look at their darling as if they’re the entire universe. Even if they do things that make their darling unhappy, they don’t do it just for the sake of making them upset. There’s often a purpose within their own mind that justifies their actions, normally believing that it’s for their darling’s own good. They hold their darling in high regard and do what they can to give their darling the best life possible (within reason). These yanderes are more common. They might even feel a sense of “guilt” for how they’ve negatively impacted their darling psyche, and try to make it up to them in their own way. 

Examples of reverent yanderes include Izuku Midoriya from My Hero Academia, Narancia Ghirga from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, and Todoroki Shouto from My Hero Academia. 

Questions to ask when characterizing a yandere into either category: 

How do they generally act towards others? Is it different with their darling? 

Is it possible their behavior would change over time? 

What would they be willing to do for their darling?

Aware vs. Delusional

Kinda self explanatory. This is more of a scale of a yandere’s perception of reality. 

Aware yanderes will know that their darling doesn’t love them, and most likely despises them. Or if their darling does love them, that they’re probably not deserving of it due to their immoral actions. It mixes in with a lot of guilt over what they’ve done to their darling, even if they think it’s for the best in the long term. These yanderes don’t fool themselves into believing that they deserve their darling’s love, though they wish they had it. As much as it hurts, they have come to accept it, almost as a self-inflicted punishment for their actions. 

On the other hand, aware yanderes can simply not care that their darling doesn’t love them. This often intermingles with cruel yanderes. What matters most to them is monopolizing their darling’s feelings/time, reveling in the power they hold. It’s not that they feel bad about what they’re doing, or that they intend on changing their ways due to how much darling despises them. They can even view it as a challenge to see what darling will handle before crumbling. 

Examples of aware yanderes include Giorno Giovanna from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, Chrollo Lucilfer from Hunter x Hunter, and Leone Abbacchio from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures. 

Delusional yanderes are unreasonable and stubborn to a fault. They believe from the bottom of their heart that their darling does love them, twisting everything to serve as evidence for this. Whether it’s a small sign of kindness that they interpret as requited love, or even a passing glance on the street, anything and everything is used to validate their delusions. These yanderes twist their darling’s hatred in their own favor, to protect themselves; as the reality of their darling hating them would be too much to bear. That there’s no possible way darling hates them, there must be another explanation for it that isn’t related to their behavior. This is how a delusional might think. While not all delusional yanderes share this extreme way of thinking, they believe some level of it, depending on how far gone they are.

Examples of delusional yanderes are Shigaraki Tomura from My Hero Academia, Illumi Zoldyck from Hunter x Hunter, and Josuke Higishikata from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures.

Questions to ask when characterizing a yandere into either category:

What is this character’s mental state?

How do they view their darling? 

What does this character consider their relationship to be with their darling?

Manipulative vs. Honest

This is how yanderes interact with their darling/darling’s surroundings. 

Manipulative yanderes are more of a classic. They set a goal and are ruthless at pursuing it, twisting every variable in their favor, regardless of how immoral it may be. Nothing is sacred to them, they’ll pull all the stops necessary of keeping their darling in check. When it comes to obtaining their darling, they’ll decide what’s necessary to get their darling in a position they like. They can be more subtle about their influence, or painfully obvious. They’ll make darling question themselves, having set up plans behind the scenes to twist everything into their favor. This can extend to those that darling knows. Forms of manipulation can include making darling question themselves, threatening their darling somehow, or threatening those around their darling to isolate them. 

Outside of interacting with darling, they might mess around with darling’s surroundings. From getting them to lose their job somehow, kicked out of their residence, or getting darling’s friends to abandon them without any explanation. Anything to make darling fully reliant on them is the true goal of manipulative yanderes. Whether they’re doing it for a “self-righteous” reason such as keeping darling safe, or solely because of their selfish desire to keep darling all to themselves, depends on the individual yandere.

Examples of manipulative yanderes include Izaya Orihara from Durarara (very much so), Bruno Bucciarati from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, and Kai Chisaki from My Hero Academia. 

Honest yanderes don’t see the point in beating around the bush and are a bit of a rarer type. They love (or want to being in possession) of their darling, and they want to be important to darling as well. Simple enough. They don’t like wasting their time with little games of cat and mouse, and would rather they get what they want as soon as possible. The type to say, “I like you, you like me, let’s go out.”, or if they’re aware, “I like you, you want something from me, let’s both get something out of this.” They may not be capable of being manipulative, or simply see it as a waste of valuable effort. A lot of times these yanderes aren’t transparent for the sake of being transparent, and it’s simply a different form of controlling their darling on a lazier level. 

It’s also possible that honest yanderes feel too guilty to be manipulative of their darling. Why this is depends on the yandere, but possible reasons include not feeling deserving of darling in the first place, or that it’d hurt them if they falsely led darling on. These yanderes would feel more content knowing darling is safe and happy more than anything, if their goal isn’t to obtain darling’s love. This leads to a lot of self-destructive behavior at times, for the sake of keeping darling content. 

Examples of honest yanderes include Jonathan Joestar from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, Leone Abbacchio from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, and (to a lesser extent), Todoroki Shoto from My Hero Academia.

Questions to ask when characterizing a yandere into either category:

How do they go about getting into a relationship with darling? 

What do they hide from their darling? 

Is this character one that would feel guilty for their actions?

Strict vs. Lenient

This will decide how a yandere wants their darling to act/their expectations. 

Strict yanderes have an internal rule set that they want their darling to follow, whether they vocalize it or not. This can be anything from not wanting their darling to do certain things, to expecting certain behaviors from them. This yandere is most likely going to kidnap their darling, or if they don’t, it’s suffocating enough to the point it feels like their darling is trapped. They micromanage every aspect of their darling’s life. How they deal with a darling’s “betrayal” of not acting how they’re supposed to depends on if they lean towards cruel or reverent. The reason strict yanderes act the way they do can range from wanting to protect their darling, to wanting to keep darling all to themselves.

Examples of strict yanderes include Giorno Giovanna from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, Kai Chisaki from My Hero Academia, and Illumi Zoldyck from Hunter x Hunter. 

Lenient yanderes are more of a rare, chill kind. This can stem from confidence that their darling really can’t do much about them, even if they’re allowed to live their life as they please. They don’t really feel an urge to kidnap their darling or to lock them away and throw the key. To an extent they still might want their darling to act a certain way, but they have their own stuff going in on life to attend to. That or they prefer to have a more “natural” feeling relationship. Lenient yanderes can control their darling in other, more subtle ways rather than outright taking away all darling’s freedom. 

Examples of lenient yanderes include Guido Mista from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures, Dabi from My Hero Academia, and Hisoka from Hunter x Hunter.

Questions to ask when characterizing a yandere into either category:

How likely is this yandere to restrict their darling? 

If they choose not to restrain their darling, why is that?

What rules would they want their darling to adhere to? 

Thank you for reading my musings, and like I said before, feel free to chime in with any thoughts of your own! Feel free to send asks if you’re wondering where I’d place a yandere on this scale. 

[charlieliqueur]

Mark X Camper!Reader (Unus Annus)

Camp Days - Part Two

Note: Sorry it took so long! :/

---

Your eyes boldly locked onto the tent door. You heard it begin to open, and you frantically hid the journal and any other suspicious material under your pillows and sleeping bags. The door opened to reveal Mark.

"Heeey camper," he greeted politely, entering the tent without stopping to ask if it was okay. Didn't matter, you felt like even if you said no, he'd do it anyways. "Y/n right?" He asked. You nodded. "What are ya doing in here all alone?" He asks, giving you a confused look. "Uh, sitting. I don't like mosquitoes..." you said.

"Well, I don't think anyone likes mosquitoes. I was gonna teach some of the other spunky little campers to play a song or two on guitar. You wanna join me?"

"I, um, already know guitar," you spoke, not sure if he'd believe it or not. Was it a lie? You couldn't remember. You had faint memories of maybe playing an instrument, but they were like remembering a childhood dream. Faint and fuzzy.

"Perfect! You can help me!" He said, eagerly and not quite gracefully getting up off the tent floor.

"No, that's not what I-"

"Come on, what else are you gonna do, we're only in camp for another six days!"

"Six days?"

"Yeah! A week of camp Unus Annus, yesterday was the first say, pfft, obviously. Introductions and all..."

"Six days, you're sure?"

"Uh. Duh."

Thoughts went through your head. It wouldn't be hard to keep track of six days. Hell, you could record every minute if you had to.

"I dunno...."

"I'll get Thicc Water to apologize for pelting you and Gerald."

Your blood ran cold. You looked into Counselor Mark's dark, dark eyes. His smile was warm, but... empty. Like it used to hold some semblance of emotion that had long since left him.

"How did you-"

"Oh, y/n, nothing happens in Camp Unus Annus without me knowing. Now come on!"

He unzipped the tent and waited for you to leave as well. You did so, not wanting any hostility. You were hesitant on leaving the journal and everything behind, but you didn't want Counselor Mark to see them, obviously.

It wasn't quite midday, but it wasn't early morning. Maybe 11:00 am or so. Mark had a group of campers around a pit, a box was on the ground nearby, full of Tazer Fire bandanas, almost every other camper had one. You grabbed one awkwardly and began folding in diagonally. Mark sat down on a log with his guitar and started strumming. The other campers watched him with awe.

Then he looked at you. "Come here y/n," he said, beckoning you over. You awkwardly sat down next to him, you didn't feel comfortable in his presence. He looked to you and grinned passing the guitar. For a moment your vision fogged with images of two men in black and white suits. A swirling abyss. You exhaled and took it. "Play us a tune, eh?" He asked, giving a look around the rest, who watched expectantly. Including Gerald.

You managed to set it in your lap correctly, but before you had a chance to play, either well or awfully, suddenly another voice boomed "HEEEY HEEEY MARK!"

All of the campers and the head counselor looked to see a skinny guy with dark hair and a black camp shirt. Counselor Ethan, and his campers. "Day two of camp already!" He said, wrapping an arm around Mark and smiling, but his eyes settled on you a moment. But Mark began talking to him, before Ethan could get a good look at you. "Oh yeah. What are you doing all the way over here, buddy?"

"Oh, y'know, interested in some team building activities. Tug of war, egg races, three legged race, the good ones!"

"Sounds great! Am I right??"

All the campers cheered, except you...

You felt like you were the only sober person left at a weird party.

Counselors Ethan and Mark began leading their campers away from Camp Tazer Fire, and towards a grassy clearing. A few rocks and sticks littered the area, but other than that it was just grass. "Alright everyone, partner up!" Shouted Mark.

You looked around, confused. "Gerald? Gerald??" You shouted, slightly panicked. You'd just seen him at camp, hadn't you? You looked through the crowds of campers, but his face was nowhere. "No buddy? Y/n you know the rules..." said Mark giving you a strange smile and shaking his pointer finger at you. "I know! I'll be your buddy! Just for the rest of camp," he said, looking proud of himself and his idea.

You looked at Mark for a moment, your heart dropping. "The rest of camp? What about Ethan? Isn't he your-"

"Certain rules can be bent in strange circumstances... now come on! Tug of war!"

- - -

You were tired, nervous, hot and sweaty. You were sitting on a rock as, drinking water from an unmarked bottle, as the sun began to set. Hours and hours of games had been played. Being stuck right next to Mark. You'd constantly catch him staring at you, or standing just too close for comfort. This whole time a light, overly electric feeling had been around you. Not the good kind, the kind of electric that you feel before a scary test, or a vaccine shot, or anything dangerous that doesn't excite, that only makes you anxious.

An excess of energy.

Weird energy.

You looked from the sunset towards the rest of the campers, distracted by the sound of footsteps. Mark had made his way over. He smiled, and waved you close to him saying "Come on, let's go."

You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly Ethan shouts "Back to camp, Campers!! A good rest after a good day! Remember the buddy system!" You stood and cautiously walked over to Mark. But Ethan was approaching. Then he extended a hand. Mark seemed hesitant on letting him.

You shook it. It was cold. Ice cold. Dreadfully icy cold. You pulled your hand away immediately after. "Ethan, and you're y/n?" He made short eye contact with Mark, who tried to manage a quick discreet nod. You looked between them a moment. "What's going-"

"Back to camp, eh? Enjoy your time with us Mo- ER y/n!" Said Ethan, awkwardly rushing away. You stared in shock and confusion as he left. Then Mark slipped an arm around your shoulder and said "Like he said, back to camp." And he gave you a slight shake, as you gazed into the distance, confused and scared.

- - -

"Because I'd like some privacy while changing please," you said shakily, trying to convince Mark to stay out of the tent for even just a few minutes. "Alright, alright," he agreed. You exhaled a sigh of relief, softly. You dug the journal out from under your pillow and turned to whatever you thought was the page you were on. It wasn't, but you decided to read whatever you could anyways.

Mori.... momento mori. Remember Death. They say it all the time. What death? With them, death isn't an ending, it's the beginning. Or the middle. Or the constant state of being. Or a being itself. Almost like they're looking for it. Looking for death...

"Almost ready?" Mark interrupted.

"Just a few moments!" You replied. You threw the book closed and stuffed it under the pillow, and quickly changed into clean camp clothes. Then you said "All done." The zipper rustled and the door opened. "Thanks, worried I might get eaten by a bear, or a deer..."

Mark laid down, seemingly relaxed. You sat on your side of the tent, trying to clear your mind. Trying to think. Everything you've learned so far swimming in your mind.

How old the camp sites are, how Mark and Ethan are seemingly immortal. How campers seem to vanish, how GERALD vanished! And now Ethan calling you Mo... was he gonna say mori? Death? What did that even mean? Was it an accident? You didn't think anything was an accident here. Not when you randomly show up at some spooky summer camp out of nowhere with hardly any memories.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Asks Mark.

"Um, how we lost at tug of war..." you lied.

"Yeah, that sucked... but we killed it at the three legged race, am I right??"

You laughed softly, but you weren't amused. You looked around the tent for a few seconds before laying down. You sighed deeply, but quiet enough not for him to hear. "I think it's time to sleep," you said. "You know, good rest and all..."

"Of course, of course. Goodnight y/n..." said Mark, rolling over. He was still laying down, stiff, outside of his sleeping bag. You curled up in yours, wanting some feeling of safety. "Y'know y/n," started Mark, "you always seem so tense. Try to enjoy camp. It is only a week, and you can make friendships that last... forever..."

Mark sounded sad... distant and somber, like remembering something. You could tell something was off. You didn't reply, you didn't want to.

After what felt like an eternity, with Mark still in the same position after hours of laying down, you remember your eyes closing finally and falling asleep.

And then you awoke.

You weren't sure how much later. You just remember waking up to the door opening. You looked, and saw it open, and saw Mark gone. A cool breeze rustled the open tent flap. You sat up, heart beginning to race. You heard leaves rustling and wind howling. Like before a storm, but without the rain. You climbed onto your feet and cautiously peeked outside, your whole torso outside the tent.

Then you saw them. A man in a white suit, a man in a black one, in the distance at the edge of the forest, chatting it seemed. You ducked back into the tent a moment, looking around more cautiously, barely peeked out.

All the other tents were dark, oddly so. And closed and quiet. Like a silence fell over the camp site. Like they all... were in a dead sleep...

You climbed out of the tent, the site being dark enough for you to sneak around in. You hid behind other tents, and rocks, and anything you could.

You were about to go around another tent, when you caught a glimpse of a white pant leg, and you immediately hid behind the tent again, holding your breath. They were right there, talking.

"We've only got five days," said a voice that sounded like Counselor Ethan. But, different... more serious...

"Yes but we have her this time," said a voice, oddly similar to Counselor Mark.

"These hosts will not last forever."

"They've lasted this long."

"And if we cannot.... if we fail before they leave...."

"We won't, my friend. We will find peace again... I promise."

"Yes, peace... momento mori?"

"Momento mori, unus... annus..."

Then you watched them begin to walk towards your tent. What the fuck? Peace? Hosts?? You saw the man in the black suit approach a different tent, as the white suited one headed back to yours. They also looked like Ethan and Mark, but for some reason you didn't want to believe that to be true... The black suited one opened a tent, and pulled out a sleeping camper, and then laid the kid on the rocky ground. What was he....? He wrapped his hands around the kid's throat, and suddenly you realized what was happening.

"Don't-!" You burst out without realizing it.

He looked up, seeing you there. "Mori... can it be...?"

He stood, and turned to you, and you saw the man in the white suit begin to approach as well.

You panicked, turned, and ran, straight into the dark, windy, silent woods.

- - -

To be continued! Sooooo it took a million years to get part two, I know I know. But its here now, right? Sorry guys. A lot happened, and I know many are still hurting after the channel ended. But, here this is, for who ever is still waiting for it.

[imanativeofswlondondahling]

Being A Stark (3)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Word Count: 1852

Warnings: None I think...

Author’s Note: Honestly I love this chapter so much, so I hope you all enjoy it. Let me know your thoughts or if you want to be tagged in the future. 

Becoming A Stark || Chapter One || Master List

“Hey kiddo.” Your dad’s voice was the last thing you were expecting to hear while reading A Brave New World to get you ready for when you head off to classes. Technically this was the summer reading and you had already read it for the start of freshman year, but restarting ninth grade seems like a good reason to prepare yourself again. But you almost throw the book across the room at the sound of your dad’s voice. 

“Dad?” You set the book aside, flipping it over to hold your place, and stand up to walk over to the bed. “You’re awake.”

“Sure am.” His left hand reaches up to scrub at his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve spent all your free time here.”

“Ok, I won’t tell you then.” You say as you look him over. He’s worse for wear, but you’ve never been so happy to see his eyes open. He reaches his good arm to take your hand.

“I’ve missed you kiddo.”

“I’ve missed you being awake.” You say, knowing he’s talking about the five years you were gone. It still doesn’t feel like you missed all that time, but there’s little things that are different. People’s haircuts, tech updates… Morgan. You have an updated pump coming to the cabin since yours is out of warranty now. “I hear you did it.”

“Mastered time travel to get you back? Yeah I did.” He smiles at you as he takes in the fact that you haven’t changed even though you were gone for five years.

“I meant the closed loop system, but that’s cool too.”

“Oh yeah, that. Did that about a year after the Blip. Figured I’d make sure you came back to something better. Spent the next four years focusing on…” he trails off. “Doesn’t matter. But then Capsicle, Nat, and Pissant show up telling me that they want to try and get everyone back. I couldn’t give up a chance to get you back. Get everyone back.” You sit down on the side of his bed, holding his hand in yours, his thumb running along the ring Pepper had given you for your birthday.

“I met Morgan.” You say and you see worry and joy both wash over his face. 

“What do you think?”

“Well she took me by surprise. The whole Blip made everything feel like not even a day had passed. So having a five year old sister? That wasn’t something I was expecting. But she’s a pretty great kid.”

“She reminds me a lot of her older sister.” Tony says with a smile. 

“I should let Dr. Cho know you’re awake. And Mo- Pepper.”

“Hold on a second.” His good hand holds onto yours. “What’s with this calling Pep by her name and not Mom?” You shrug, not wanting to voice your thoughts. “Come on. Spill. Talk to your old man about it all.”

“She’s got her own kid now. It’s different.” You shrug again, feeling unable to fully explain that you don’t feel like your mom will want you anymore now that Morgan is here.

“Y/N, she was just as upset as I was when you Blipped. Even more upset when she found out she was pregnant and you weren’t going to get to be there when Morgan was born. You’re her kid too. There is no not wanting you just because Morgan is in the picture now too. Same goes for me. We both love both of you equally. Our little misses are just going to have to get used to sharing their mom and dad.” His hand tightens on yours. “Now I don’t think I’m supposed to be moving a ton, so you’re either going to have to come here so I can hug you or I’m going to break a lot of rules, because I’ve waited for five years to hug my kid.” You smile at him before diving towards your dad. Your arms wrap around him, careful of the arm that is just laying there, and you hold onto him. His good arm wraps around your back, holding you to him. “This is what I missed the most while you were gone.” He says before kissing your cheek.

“I hear you hugged Peter.” 

“I may have.”

“So does this mean you accept my boyfriend now?”

“If he makes you happy, I will put up with him.”

“Good.” You place a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to grab Dr. Cho and call Mom.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” He says holding onto your hand, stopping you from getting up. “FRIDAY, tell Doc I’m awake.” You roll your eyes at not thinking about using FRIDAY. “Kiddo, you better know I’m not going to let you go very far for a while now. I spent five years without you.”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” You pull your phone out and shoot a message to your mom about Tony being awake. She’s only upstairs, using the kitchen in what used to be the apartment you lived in to make Morgan and you some lunch. “Did you know I have to restart ninth grade? I have to take Biology and Chemistry all over again and I’m going to die.” You say dramatically.

“I’ll be there every step of the way. Peter and I’ll make sure you pass. Just like last time.”

“I was barely passing last time.”

“But you already have the head start of having taken the first half of the semester.”

“That means nothing.” You say before another voice comes into the room.

“Daddy!” Morgan climbs up on the bed on his other side and gives him a big hug. “You slept longer than when I was sick.” She stares Tony down as if asking him to explain himself. She’s leaning away from his marked up arm, although most of it is covered by his hospital gown and the sling.

“I was really tired Morgana. Will you forgive me?” She nods her head before looking over at you. 

“Daddy, Y/N came back like you said she would.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Tony smiles at his youngest, wanting to reach out with his right hand to push her hair back, but it’s currently trapped in a sling and not wanting to do anything.

“She played Barbies with me yesterday. She’s much better at it than you are.” Morgan states as if it’s a fact. “You should have come back sooner.” She says to you.

“I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. I think Dad might get mad if I do.” You stage whisper the last part to her. She shakes her head.

“He won’t get mad. He would just be really sad. He always got sad when he talked about you.”

“She’s got you there kiddo. I would miss you a lot if you left again.” Pepper sits next to Morgan, a hand drifting to place itself on Tony’s leg, needing to touch him.

“Hey.” Tony says, looking at Pepper. “Your eyes are red. Few tears for your long lost boss?” Tony smirks at her as if it’s an inside joke that you and Morgan won’t understand.

“If you ever do that again… I won’t be looking for a new job. I’ll be looking for a new husband, you understand that?” 

“I missed the wedding?” You can’t help but interrupt. You should have caught it when Peter called her Mrs. Stark, but now you’re realizing what happened. Pepper turns from looking at your dad to looking at you.

“You didn’t really miss much. We eloped.” She explains.

“Wanted to be married before a certain miss, but didn’t feel right doing a whole big ceremony when all the important people would be missing.” Tony adds.

“Couldn’t have a wedding without my maid of honor.” Pepper smiles at you. “So now that you’re back, guess we can do a vow reunion or a real wedding or something.”

“Wait you’re serious? Me? Maid of honor?” You stumble over the words not fully believing what your mom was saying.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I have my daughter be my maid of honor?”

“Because you want someone older to do it?”

“If there’s going to be a wedding can I be the flower girl?” Morgan interrupts.

“Of course you can.” Tony reaches over to ruffle Morgan’s hair as Pepper comes to sit next to you.

“There is no one I would rather as my maid of honor than you.” She wraps an arm around you. “You’re the only one I can trust to make everything perfect. Honestly the only people that have to be at the wedding are you, Tony, and Morgan. Anyone else who is there is just a bonus. That’s why we couldn’t have the wedding without you.”

“I understand that. I just... I’m fifteen. You want a fifteen year old as your maid of honor? You could have anyone in the whole world. You could have one of the Avengers.” You point out. 

“I could. But I want my daughter. And she’s back. So let��s plan a wedding.” She places a kiss on your cheek. “Sound good Maid of Honor?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

“So I hear our patient is wide awake now.” Dr. Cho’s voice comes from the door.

“What’s the diagnosis Doc? How soon can you break me out of here?” Tony asks.

“Got to run a few tests, but I would say hopefully next couple days?” Dr. Cho looks at all the people sitting with Tony. “I may have to ask a few people to get off the bed so I can look you over.”

“Lunch was basically ready upstairs. How about the girls and I go eat and we’ll be back after?” Pepper suggests trying to get out of Dr. Cho’s hair.

“I’ll take Morgan upstairs. You stay with Dad.” You suggest. You know Pepper will want to know what’s going on anyway. This makes more sense. “You can come join us for lunch after the tests.”

“Ok.” You stand from the bed, stick your bookmark in your book you had forgotten about, before reaching for Morgan. You swing her off the bed and she squeals with laughter. 

“Come on Momo. Let’s go upstairs. Maybe we can find some juice pops.” You whisper the last part loudly. Morgan giggles as she grabs onto your hand. 

“Can we bring Daddy one later? He got hurt. He deserves a juice pop.” Morgan looks up at you with doe like eyes.

“I think we could probably do that.” You and Morgan walk towards the elevator as Morgan rambles on about different things. You honestly love the chatter of your little sister. Over the past few days, it’s filled the silence that your dad normally would and that calmed you some. 

“Daddy’s going to be all better now right Y/N?” Morgan asks as you step on the elevator. “His arm still has a booboo.”

“His arm does have a booboo, but Dr. Cho is going to look at it and do what she can to help it. But Dad is going to be around for a long time.”

...A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway  @iamaunicorn4704  @furiouspockettoad  @daughter-of-stark  @eternalharry  @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch @skyfallstilinski @cutie1365 @a-mnd @youarethereasonimsmiling @thefemalestorywriter @krazykendraisnotinsane @cathy8taffy @letssee2468 @babyreads @riyanna @theatregeek @bubblebunbun

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick​

strike won’t let me tag

[delimeful]

you will see a better day

donation drive commission for @starrykid with the prompt: Remus dealing with intrusive thoughts and the others helping him through it.

warnings: canon setting, intrusive thoughts (a fair amount), gore mentions, implications of thoughts of self harm, Remus Going Thru It

-

Before, whenever he had a Bad Day, it was just more fuel on the trash fire that was his brain. 

It was routine: Remus would wake up with a litany of grotesque images on the back of his eyelids, present every time he blinked or squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. These thoughts weren’t the fun kind of gross, the type that was fascinating or funny. They weren’t fun because he didn’t choose them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of them if he didn’t like them. 

Guess that was how everyone else felt about you. Remus mashed a pillow over his own face as though it would muffle his own mind. What a stupid thought. He was a luxury few could afford, thank-you-very-much!

Back then, as soon as possible, he would find someone else in the Mindscape to bother, because if he had to deal with the awful thoughts carving and chipping away at the inside of his skull, it was only fair to share. 

That was before, when things had been black and white and he could be a monster all he pleased because it wasn’t like anyone else thought differently. It wasn’t like Thomas thought differently. 

Until he did.

And now they were all in one muddled up Mindscape and the others were trying, making an effort to clot their own bad habits and setting a place for him at the table. It was slow-going, like shoving a square peg into a circular hole, but it was also the most he’d ever had. Until something splintered, he was going to soak in every minute of it. 

Or at least, that was his plan, up until he hit another Bad Day like a semi truck hit thrice-dead roadkill. 

Same thoughts, same pounding (heh) headache. The difference was, now he couldn’t go word-vomit all over the nearest Side until he felt a little less like he was drowning. He was working to keep the delicate peace in his own way, and that meant not bothering the others with his… himself-ness on days like these. 

He couldn’t stay in his room all day, though. For one it was boring, and for two, ever since they’d all agreed to try and cohabitate, Patton and Janus in particular were insistent on checking in if anyone acted strange. Cooping up in his room and not being his usual fantastically sickening and outrageous self would definitely pop up on their radar. If that happened, there was no way he could fool Janus outright. He preferred his own brand of frank honesty anyways, so clearly the only solution was to behave normally enough that nobody looked twice. 

His version of normal, anyhow. 

He groaned loudly and then dragged in a breath, manifesting a pair of slippers that looked uncannily like dead fish onto his feet. He would just have to put his excellent acting skills to use. 

—- 

Remus’s willpower was put to the test as soon as he reached the kitchen. A new record of his ability to destroy plans, this must be why Janus never told him anything. 

Patton was spinning himself in circles on one of the round stools by the bar counter, humming a cartoon theme brightly to himself. At the stovetop, Virgil was sedately flipping pancakes, an easy set to his shoulders that meant he had probably recently taken a long-overdue nap in Logan’s room.

Normally, Remus would already be halfway into teasing the hell out of him, but now his brain felt scrambled with panic. Virgil was particularly susceptible to getting dragged into the cycle of intrusive thoughts on days like these, which meant the anxious Side was the last one he wanted to run into at the moment. 

Two birds with one brick, his stupid hell brain suggested slyly. Send Virgil into a spiral and then it’ll be him who gets nagged, his fault for ruining the friendly atmosphere. 

Stop it. Remus’s face twitched into a self-directed snarl for a moment, and he forced the thought away as Patton finally slowed his rotation to smile dizzily at him. 

“Remus! Good morning!” 

Virgil glanced over his shoulder, sending Remus’s heart rate briefly into the triple digits. Be normal be normal be normal. “Hey, Re. Morning.”

He didn’t even notice. So much for being your friend. If you’re subtle enough, you could sidle up behind him and smash his face into the hot burner—

“WHAT’S UP, FUCKERS!” Remus shouted, teeth spread in a too-wide grin. He bounced into the kitchen, depositing an assorted handful of teeth (his preferred currency) into the swear jar before Patton could say anything, and planted himself on the middle bar stool. 

Patton scooted one stool closer to be next to him, because of course he did. Remus resisted the urge to start prying out handfuls of hair, his own or— no. Toned down, he was keeping it toned down. Buttcheek on a stick, this was difficult.

“Want to spin with me?” Patton asked, shifting antsily from side to side with barely contained energy. 

“Whoever pukes first wins?” Remus replied automatically, and felt a bright burst of giddy joy when Patton giggle-snorted instead of recoiling. 

“I think upchuck is actually supposed to mean you lose your lunch and the spinning contest, kiddo.” 

Of course it did. You were designed to be the loser, even if you try to change the rules. 

Remus knew that this time Patton had spotted the way his lips twitched down into a grimace, but before the fatherly side could say anything, there was the clink of ceramic plates on the counter in front of them. 

“No spinning and/or vomiting if you want to eat my pancakes,” Virgil demanded, wielding a spatula threateningly at them as he clicked the stovetop off. “We’ll never hear the end of it from Princey if he has to reconjure all the furniture.” 

Irrational, heated anger burned through him. Like Virgil could do anything to stop you. Social interaction was enough to give the guy a panic attack, he couldn’t tell Remus to do or not do anything— 

“You good, Re?” Virgil asked, and he jerked, avoiding the other Side’s gaze as though eye contact would expose his thoughts. After a beat too long, his mind finally caught up with the plate in front of him. 

His pancake was covered in a truly disgusting amount of cheese and ketchup, the way he always requested it back when they’d all been Dark Sides. Despite the fact that he always made a face back then, Virgil had made a point to remember, had done it without asking. 

Like ravenous wolves, his thoughts instantly turned against him. 

Pathetic. How could you think things like that about people who trust you? You shouldn’t even be here, pretending to be a person. You deserve everything coming to you. 

His hand made it halfway to the fork sitting innocently next to his plate before he remembered himself. Virgil was still looking at him, clearly having caught the motion, and Remus lowered his hand, white-knuckled. 

“Me, good? That’s a funny one, V-mo!” he tried to joke, but the odd edge to his voice made it fall flat. Virgil was outright frowning now, and out of the corner of his vision Patton’s eyebrows were drawing together.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, his frame tight with tension and his gaze drilling into Remus. “Are you hurt?” 

“I could be!” Remus blurted, trying to keep his tone saucy but ending up with something closer to desperate. “You ever think maybe bashing my skull in would be better than having to deal with its contents?”

The two of them winced, and he knew he’d given himself away completely. Shit.

Virgil reached out, and then stopped himself before he could make contact. Can you blame him? Jumping into an electrified tank of leeches would be more comfortable than willingly exposing himself to you. 

Something of his internal diatribe must have shown on Remus’s face, because Virgil’s hesitant expression flickered into regret.

“Shit,” he swore, and this time Patton didn’t chide him. “I can’t-- I don’t want to send you into a spiral, Re. If I touch you, we’re just going to be stuck in a feedback loop of bad thoughts.” 

“Like how you’re perpetually stuck in 2009?” Remus offered, instead of listing all the ways he could feasibly remove Virgil’s eyes from their sockets. It would almost be fun, if it wasn’t his friend’s eyes he was contemplating prying out with a spoon handle. 

Virgil’s lips pulled up slightly. “Yeah, just like that. I’m gonna go get the others. They’ll be able to help you for real.” 

He sunk out, and Remus’s head started to ache more severely as terrible and often gory predictions for the future began to crowd his mind. He shoved his hands into the roots of his hair and tugged ferociously. 

“Hey, buddy, you shouldn’t pull on your hair like that,” a concerned voice chimed in. Remus had almost forgotten Patton was still there, sitting only a seat away. 

He pulled harder on his hair, both out of spite and to distract himself from the urge to summon a weapon and see if Patton would still look at you with so much pity if you shanked his ass and tied his intestines into little bows. 

“Hey, what do you call a seasick croc?” Patton asked, abruptly enough that Remus managed to shake his train of thought. He glanced up to look at the Heart, who offered him a tremulous mischievous smile. “A crocobile.” 

Remus snorted, and Patton’s smile seemed to firm up. 

“How about, why do ducks have tail feathers?” the moral Side asked in that same leading tone. 

Remus thought for a minute. “‘Cause otherwise they’d lose their balance in flight and go splat against the nearest window?” 

“I mean, maybe, but also!” Patton held up a finger for emphasis. “They have tail feathers to cover their… butt-quacks.”

There was a beat of anticipation where they both stared at each other, and then Remus threw his head back and outright cackled. Patton fist pumped in delight. 

“I thought you might like that one, kiddo,” he said, beaming. Before Remus could reply, possibly with an atrocious pun of his own, Roman strode into the room. 

There was a brief, awkward pause as the two of them made eye contact. Patton looked rapidly between them with concern, and Remus couldn’t blame him. Even now, their one-on-one interactions tended to end with vicious spats. They were too good, too practiced at pressing each other's buttons to settle into the newfound peace easily. 

“... Bad one?” he finally asked, as though he could spot the wrong-evil-awful all over Remus from a mile away. Remus felt his expression drop into an irritable glower worthy of Anxiety, but before he could retort, Roman was seating himself primly on the communal couch.   

He ran his hand through the hair at the nape of his neck in a nervous habit Remus constantly teased him about, and then straightened his shoulders and patted the cushion next to him. “I’ll… like when we were kids. If you want.” 

Despite Patton’s confused head tilt, Remus got it immediately, and ignored the screaming violence in his head in favor of bodily throwing himself over the couch, jostling the hell out of his brother and eliciting a Grade-A Bitchface from him in the process. Remus grinned maliciously in return.

“Do the one that looks like a snake,” he demanded, running a hand through his hair and lengthening it. Of course, in addition, thick clumps of hair ended up falling out entirely, leaving weird-feeling bald patches that might have been interesting if he’d actually intended to create them. 

“On purpose or don’t want it?” Roman asked, echoing a familiar question from their childhood. It had been a royal decree, before they grew so divided, that one had to ask before ‘fixing’ anything the other did, just in case it was on purpose. 

“How are you supposed to braid what isn’t there?” Remus grumbled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he unwillingly imagined restapling his hair to his skull. “Don’t want it.” 

Roman dragged his fingers through Remus’s hair, lengthening it until it was long enough to do all sorts of stupid-complicated braids. He also made the new hair unforgivably glossy and apple-scented, but Remus could get him back for that later, when he was sure it wouldn’t be (nails through nasal cavities, a cloud of suffocating darkness, decaying hands pulling you down into freshly turned soil and burying you alive) disproportionate retribution. 

Two braids later, Logan appeared, rising up in the mindscape with his tie perfectly aligned but lab goggle imprints around his eyes. He only took a moment to absorb the scene, as though it was normal that everyone was crowding around Remus attentively. “Virgil informed me that you could use some assistance?” 

Remus snorted. “Maybe you can perform some impromptu brain surgery to stop me thinking? Hey, if you don’t use anesthetic, I promise not to squirm too much, doc.”

“I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school,” Roman quoted absently, still caught up in combining three braids together into one. 

Logan rolled his eyes. “Regardless of my unfortunately lacking PhD status, I believe brain surgery to ‘stop one thinking’ is also colloquially referred to as an induced coma.” 

“Perfect!” Remus cheered, and then yelped when Roman tugged on his hair harshly in retribution. Patton was making that half-pitiful, half-furious face that he always made whenever the emo talked bad about himself, strangely enough.

“There are plenty of adjectives I could use to describe such a solution, but none of them would be ‘perfect’, Remus,” Logan continued. “A more effective and patient-friendly answer would be addressing your irritating or harmful thoughts through the use of various mental health tactics.” 

Easy for him to say. “That might work for Tommy-boy, but I am the harmful or irritating thoughts, remember?” 

“Falsehood.” Logan declared, proving that no matter what aspect of Thomas they were, the Sides were all dramatic theater kid bastards at heart. “It has become increasingly clear that while we all formed to handle certain tasks or aspects, we are all increasingly complex at heart. None of us can be diminished to simply one trait. In the same way that Virgil is much more than the experience of anxiety, there is no logical reason to reduce yourself to the thoughts that you struggle with.” 

Remus shook his head, though he wasn’t sure what part of the assertion he was resisting. Logan folded himself into a sitting position and reached over for Remus’s hand, his touch grounding. 

“You’ve gotten through days like this before. You’ll continue to do so after,” Logan told him. 

“I got through Bad Days by making everyone’s day bad,” Remus retorted. “I’m not you, but I’m not stupid. Nobody wants me making it into a communal event.” 

“That’s what family’s for though,” Patton said, shifting closer from his own spot on the rug. “Listening. Helping. Having each other’s backs when things get tough!” 

Logan’s grip didn’t falter. Roman’s presence was solid at his back. Remus was beginning to wonder if he’d snorted something hallucinogenic recently.

“The sentiment is admirable, if a bit hypocritical,” a familiar voice chimed in, and Remus looked up to see Janus leaning elegantly against the kitchen archway. Virgil elbowed his way past, ruining the dramatic pose and flopping down on the couch next to Remus. He bumped his shoe against Remus’s leg in quiet camaraderie.

“Hypocritical?” Logan echoed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Unless you’d like to tell me that everyone here has no problems whatsoever asking for help or expressing vulnerability on their bad days,” Janus proposed, smugly. 

Logan inclined his head slightly. “Point.” 

“Regardless, that doesn’t make Logic or Morality incorrect.” Janus looked at Remus intently. “None of us are allowed to simply suffer in silence, anymore.”

“I didn’t exactly suffer in silence before,” he pointed out, sounding uncannily sensible. Probably from the nerd’s proximity. 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem now, hmm?” Janus replied. 

Logan sighed at them all, collectively, in general. “Look at it from this angle, Remus. Your previous coping mechanism was generally detrimental due to your lack of options and isolation. Now, you have neither of those holding you back. With knowledge and assistance, you can only improve from here on out.” 

Now, that was doubtful. “And what if I don’t, huh? What if I just get worse?” 

“Then we’ll still be here.” Logan squeezed his hand, and Janus confirmed his words with a nod, and even though his mind was cluttered and overwhelming, they were all still there at his side without complaint. 

Maybe it wasn’t too much to ask, after all.

“Well, what are we trying first?”

[just-jordie-things]

Can’t Pretend - Richie Tozier

word count: 13,840 warnings: swearing, sexual themes summary: richie and (y/n) share a dirty little secret, and it’s starting to get in the way of her relationship.  but it shouldn’t if it was just a fling, right? based on this song (a/n): about to hit 5.4k so I thought I'd celebrate by posting this ol’ thing :) I really like it I hope y'all do too :3

___

[ love... i have wounds, only you can mend // i guess that’s love… i can’t pretend ]

It was a plain saturday for the Losers.  And by plain, I mean they were chilling in Bill’s bedroom, thankful that his parents were out of town for the weekend because that meant they could raid the liquor cabinet and be a bit louder than usual.

(y/n) was leaning against the mattress, sat on the floor, a beer bottle in hand and a smile on her face.  These were the best kinds of nights, where all they did was talk, and it was all they had to do.

Eddie smacks Richie on his shoulder, but nearly hits his face in his drunken stupor.  And when (y/n) laughs, her head leans a little more into Ben’s leg, which is hanging off the side of the bed where he sat.  She’s laughing loudly into the denim of his jeans, and the material does nothing to muffle the sound.

Everyone else is laughing too, though, so it doesn’t matter.

“Alright, so is anyone aware that in four months, we won’t see each other like this anymore?” Beverly asks, a frown on her face as she takes another drink.  “I mean, what, am I supposed to make new friends?”

“Yeah, good look with that, Ringwald” Richie snorts, and Bev just flips him off, the way she always does when he calls her that.

“We won’t be that far from each other” Ben says to her with a sweet smile.

“And it’s not like we won’t write, too,” Stan chimes in.  “Except you Richie, after we graduate, never fucking talk to me again-”

“Oh, I’ll send you love letters every day sweetie pie,” Richie says before Stan can even finish.  “Don’t you worry, it’ll be like I’m right there with you”

He sticks his tongue out and snickers, while Stan grumbles about needing a break.

(y/n) can’t help but giggle at both boys.  Partially because she gets very giggly when tipsy, and partially because they’re the two funniest people she knows.  Richie grins at her when he catches her laughing, only making her laugh more.

“How are w-we gonna do it?” Bill muses, not really looking for an answer, because there really isn’t one.

“We don’t,” (y/n) shrugs.  “We avoid it until… there’s not really any other option” 

“Dark” Ben mumbled.

“It’s true,” (y/n) argued.  “If we go through this year with the mindset that this is the end, then we’ll push each other away, it’s psychology”

Eddie nods because he was in her class and is pretty sure he remembers hearing that.

“So we just live our best year” He agrees with her.

She high fives him.

“Well you’re already on your way,” Beverly said, and stood up from where she sat next to Mike so she could plop down next to her best girl.  “What, with your fancy scholarship, and your boyfriend” She singsonged the word, and (y/n) wilted with embarrassment.

“Come on Bev-”

“Are you guys gonna stay together?” Stan asks, the gears in his head turning as soon as her boyfriend was mentioned.  “I mean it’s been like… five months, right?”

“Four and a half” (y/n) mumbled, pulling her knees to her chest.

She stares down at her drink, and then takes a long swig.  She had a feeling she’d need it.

Talking about her boyfriend when everyone was around was… awkward.  It was one thing if it was just her and Beverly, but to have all the boys’ eyes on her every time his name came up made her feel hot, like she was being interrogated.

“So you’re kinda serious,” Stan shrugged.  “How many times have you done it?”

She chokes, and coughs for a long moment before catching her breath.

“Stan you don’t get to-”

“Come on, just fess up,” Beverly giggles.  “We won’t make fun! Promise!”

(y/n’s) cheeks go hot, and she knows they’re pink and that she’ll only be picked on more for it.  She locks eyes with Richie, who winks at her, and now her face must be red.

“We- uh-” Her eyes dart away before she can choke and lose her train of thought again.  “We actually um… haven’t… done… that” She says slowly, and with every reluctant word her voice gets softer.

“What?” Eddie screeches.

“No way,” Stan is laughing in disbelief.  “Come on, just give up the number.  What, ten? Fifteen? Twenty-?!”

(y/n’s) eyes are narrowed at him, silently yelling for him to fuck off.

“Really?” Beverly asks, just as shocked as the others.

Well, everyone was surprised.

“But he’s so…”

“Hot?” Eddie offers, only to get nudged in the ribs by the trashmouth next to him.

“I was going to say affectionate,” Beverly answers, staring skeptically at Richie.  “He’s always hanging all over you, how have you not hooked up?”

(y/n) shrugs her shoulders and stares down at her drink again.

“I dunno” She mumbles weakly.

“Has he tried-?”

“This is super awkward, can we be done?” She asked, voice still soft, embarrassed.

“I mean come on, don’t you want to f-”

“Can we stop fucking talking about this, before I’m forced to visualize his dick?” Richie cuts in, faking a gag.  “Oh, fuck, too late, thanks a lot you sluts”

Stan and Beverly are distracted by the comment and burst into laughter while Richie pretends to throw up.

After the conversation ends, and Ben starts talking about the colleges he’s deciding between, (y/n) glances over to her favorite glasses-wearing idiot.  He catches her gaze, and she mouths ‘thank you’.  He just smiles, before diving right back into conversation about why Ben should be an architect and not a poet.

A few beers later and they have to cut themselves off, because if they drink too much then Bill’s parents will notice and they’ll all get in trouble.  They shouldn’t be drinking anymore anyways, because everyone’s relatively tipsy, and with the general excitable mood among the group, drinking more would be a bad idea.

Everyone’s lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling and talking about nonsense.  What was once a serious conversation about their future has turned into a debate about what the most important thing to have when stranded on an island would be.

“A knife, definitely a knife” Mike argues.

“What? Fuck no, a gun” Stanley fights back, thus starting an argument about not having bullets because you can only choose one item.

“Flint? I guess? I don’t fuckin’ know” Beverly says sleepily.  She didn’t care much for this discussion when it started, and forty five minutes later, she still doesn’t.

“I’d bring an issue of Maxim, for sure.  Gotta keep busy you know-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie grumbles.  “I’d bring an epipen.  I’m allergic to everything on an island”

“Oh fuck off, you’re not allergic to sand” Richie smacks the boy on his arm for suggesting something so idiotic.

“I’d bring  one of my grandpa’s sheep,” Mike spoke after what seemed like forever of deliberation.  “It’d save his life and I’d have a companion”

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) cooed, smiling delightedly at the idea of Mike wanting a friend more than anything else.  “I’ll take a sheep too, please”

The two break out into laughter for a few minutes, uncontrollable, belly aching laughter.

“You can’t copy Mike, come up with your own!” Eddie scolded, offended that (y/n) tried to break the rules of their made up game.

“Alright, alright, let a girl think first…” (y/n) folded her arms over her head as she squinted, to help her thought process.  “Um… a book”

“A book?” Eddie laughed almost maniacally at her answer.  “Alright, just fuckin’ take a sheep from Mike, that was even worse”

“What? No it isn’t,” (y/n) argued.  “It’ll keep me occupied and entertained, and when it’s done I can read it over again”

“Lame” Eddie muttered.

She reached over to smack him, and sadly Bill got caught in the crossfire.

“You wouldn’t bring your lover?” Stan teased, and she almost hit him too.  “You’d pick a farm animal over your boyfriend?”

“I didn’t think of it like that” She said quietly.

“I don’t get you guys,” Stan says, and she sighs because the conversation has somehow drifted to him, again.  “I mean, it’s been four and a half months, and typically couples get it on for their one month.  But you’ve had four anniversaries and still haven’t-”

“Why are you so interested in my business, Stanley?” (y/n) asked, a bit more defensive than she needed to be.

He raises his hands and pulls an innocent face.

“I’m just worried about you!” He retorts.  “You’re the one in desperate need-”

“I’m not desperate for anything” She snaps.

“Yeah, Stan, she’s not a virgin, (y/n’s) gotten some before” Beverly makes an attempt to back (y/n) up, but it only makes her feel worse.

“What? But he’s her first boyfriend- oh my god, who was it?” Stan asks, way more interested in this topic now.

“Leave me alone” She rolls her eyes and shoves his shoulder.

“Oh god, it must be real embarrassing,” Eddie is giddy for the gossip now, sitting up to join in better.  “Who was it?”

“Cut it out” She says a bit louder, sharp eyes meeting Eddies, a silent threat in them.

“Who was it, Bev?” Eddie asked, deciding to go the source it came from.

But she shrugs her shoulders, and makes an ‘I don’t know’ sound.

“What do you m-mean you don’t kn-know?” Bill stammers out.

“She didn’t wanna tell me” Beverly answers, simple as that.

(y/n) covers her face with her hands.  She wishes she was more drunk than she was, because then maybe there was hope for recovering from this.  Or maybe even forgetting completely.

“Must be real embarrassing,” Richie teases.

She peeks at him through her fingers.

“Bowers?” He asks with a raised brow, and she barks out a laugh.

Everyone laughs then, at the mere idea of anyone hooking up with that nutcase.

“I promised I wouldn’t tell, okay?” She admits after the laughter has died and all attention is on her again.  “It’s private” She adds softer.

“Fine” Stan gives in, not wanting to make the girl anymore uncomfortable.

If they knew anything about (y/n), it was that she kept secrets and promises locked away forever.  She was the most trustworthy person any of them had ever met.  And she’d never break someone else’s trust either.

“But if you’ve done it before, why aren’t you, yaknow, still doing it?” Stan asks, and begins to giggle at his own words.  “I mean, if I had a hot girlfriend, I’d be doing it like… all the time”

“Pervert” (y/n) mumbles.

“Did you just call (y/n) hot?” Eddie asks, and everyone ooohs at his catch.

“Alright, alright! Calm down, of course I did!” Stan announces, and a blush takes over the girl’s face again.  But this time she’s not embarrassed, she’s flattered.  “It’s an observation, okay? Jesus”

She giggles, and leans over to kiss his cheek.

“You guys are so dumb,” She mumbles.  “I love you all so much”

“All I’m asking,” Stan declares, voice loud.  “Is why you’re avoiding it!”

“I’m not avoiding it” She argues, but she knows she’s failed because it’s such a blatant lie, and any sober mind would be able to see that.

Luckily, no one in this room is sober.

“Oh yeah?” Stan scoffs.  “Have you been home alone with him in the last four and a half months?”

“Yeah?” She asks, voice cracking slightly.

“And you didn’t screw him?”

“Watch it” Richie’s voice bites from where he lies a few feet away from them.  Stan pays it no mind, but Bev kicks his leg, and furrows her brow at him, wondering why he gave a fuck what Stan had to say.

The others were either asleep, or didn’t want to step in on the mini argument (y/n) and Stan were having.

Ben and Mike had passed out on the floor a few minutes ago.  And Eddie and Bill just sat and listened to the argument, wishing they could pass out.

“No, I- I didn’t,” (y/n) stammers.  “But so? I don’t want to rush it-”

“Liaaaar,” Stan singsongs.  “You don’t want to hook up with him”

“That’s not true!” She exclaims.  “We-. we’re actually hanging out at his place tuesday night,” She tells him matter of factly.  “Alone!”

“Ooh, good for you,” Stan retorts sarcastically.  “That doesn’t mean shit unless you actually take your pants off”

Her face scrunches up as her eyes narrow at him.  Now she’s angry, because he doesn’t believe her, and he’s not trying to.  So what if she’s lying through her teeth? He’s her friend and he should believe her.

“I’m tired” She announces suddenly, and forces herself to stand up.

She steals one of the few blankets on Bill’s bed that he’d prepared for everyone.  Her balance is a bit shaky as she wraps it around herself, and heads for the door.

“Goodnight” She calls, only once she’s left the room and is heading for the pullout bed in the living room sofa.

The room is silent for a few minutes after she’s left.

“Well fuck, you’re gonna have to apologize in the morning” Eddie mumbles, and San knows he’s talking to him.

“I didn’t think she’d get that pissed,” He replied guiltily.  “I was just messin’, I thought she’d just get embarrassed.  I don’t know what I did-”

“She doesn’t like talking about that stuff, dumbass,” Richie says.  “Shit makes her uncomfortable”

“Well I didn’t know that-” Stan starts to argue.

Beverly stops him before he can start any more drama tonight.

“Don’t worry about it, Stan, she’ll be alright,” She says, and then gets up to get a blanket as well.  “I’ll go talk to her to make sure she really is alright, goodnight”

The boys mumble a ‘goodnight’ back to her, and she descends the staircase to check on her friend, who’s laying facedown on the mattress.

“Oh, hon,” Bev laughs, and lays down next to her.  “Don’t be so upset with Stan, he was just being dumb-”

“I know” (y/n) mumbles into her pillow.

Beverly pulls the blanket she’s brought with her and drapes it over her back, so she won’t get cold while she’s pouting.

“Then what’s troubling you?”

Her words are a bit slurred, but the care is still there.

“I just… I don’t know.  I didn’t have to think about it before and now I can’t stop,” (y/n) admits with a sign.  “And maybe I’m upset because… he’s right.  Maybe I’m upset because he’s write and I wouldn’t admit it to myself, but I have been avoiding hooking up with him.  I mean, so much could go wrong and I just… don’t want to have a bunch of drama our senior year, yaknow? I want it to be smooth and easy.  And so far with him our relationship has been smooth and easy, but what if he’s wanted to do it this whole time and I keep dodging him and now he’s gonna break up with me?”

(y/n) lifts her head to turn to her redheaded friend for advice.

But Beverly is sound asleep, snoring softly against her pillow.

(y/n) can’t help but smile a bit, even though she really needed help sorting out her messy thoughts.  But she wasn’t going to bother Beverly by waking her up.

So she carefully crept off the squeaky pullout mattress, and went back upstairs.

Ben and Mike are still asleep on the floor, but someone’s thrown a couple blankets over them.

Stan is on Bill’s bed, facing the opposite direction as Bill, and they’ve both knocked off as well.

Maybe everyone else had more to drink than her, she thinks as she shuts the door to leave them be.  When she turns to head to the guest bedroom, she nearly runs into Eddie.

“Who are you looking for?” He asks right away.

He rubs his tired eyes, and she adores that he looks like a child when he does so.

“Um-”

“Richie’s in bed already,” Eddie says before she can answer.  “If you’re gonna prank him, you might want to wait a few minutes, so you know he’s in a deep enough sleep”

(y/n) chuckles at the unprompted advice, and nods her head.

“Alright... thanks” She says.

Eddie doesn’t say anything else as he pushes past her to go to sleep in Bill’s room.

“You aren’t gonna sleep in the guest room?” She asks with furrowed brows.

“Fuck no, Richie kicks and talks in his sleep.  I’d rather stay on the floor with those two” Eddie answers, and then gives her a small wave before shutting the bedroom door.

She takes a deep breath as she stands in front of the guest room’s door.  And then before she could stop herself, she opens the door, and shuts it quickly behind her as she steps inside.

Richie's laying in bed, arms wrapped around the pillow that his face is pressed into.  He mumbles a slurred ‘who is it?’ into the feathery cushion.  But he knows it’s her before she even answers.  Because as she sits on the side of the bed next to him, he can smell her perfume.

He squints up at her, having lost his glasses somewhere in Bill’s room, and wonders what she’s doing here.

“Surprise” She says weakly, and a slight smirk tugs on his lips.

“What’s goin’ on?” He asks, leaning his face back down into the comfort of the cool pillow.  He was already getting a headache from the four beers he had.  (He’d drank two of the three Eddie had gotten)

“Can we talk?” She asks in a voice so soft that she can only be referencing one thing.

Richie nods, and pats the space next to him with his palm.

She hesitates for just a moment, before giving in and laying down in the spot, grabbing a hold of the other pillow she mirrors Richie’s actions and hugs it under her head.

He doesn’t say anything, just lays there with his eyes closed in the dark and waits for her to go first.

“Was I….” She starts, but then bites her lip and shakes her head as she changes her mind.  “When we…”

“...hooked up?” He offers.

It’s so casual, so quiet, that her heart skips a beat, because she can’t believe he can just say it like that.  Speak their darkest, most carefully kept secret, out into the open like that.

“Yeah…” She mumbled back.  “Was I… I don’t know… good?”

He opens his eyes now, and his brows furrow as he sees her anxious expression.

They hadn’t talked about it since it had happened, which was their deal, but after her argument with Stan he figured she was going to sneak in here and talk to him.  He’s not sure why she looks so scared, though.

“Were you good?” He repeats her question, like he doesn’t understand it.

She nods her head.

“(y/n), of course you were good, you were you,” He chuckles, a genuine smile on his lips.  The compliment, if you could call it that, made her blush.  “He’ll be lucky to have you in his bed, alright?”

“Be honest with me,” She said.  “Don’t just say stuff to make me feel better”

“I’m not” Richie grumbles, laying back down again.

His head his swirling a bit, and with her laying so close to him, it wasn’t helping.

“Why haven’t you done it yet, anyways?” He asks her after it’s been silent for too long.

“I…” She tries and fails to answer the question.  But she’s her most honest self when she’s with Richie, and feels he deserves an explanation for her behavior tonight.  “... was scared” She finishes after a few minutes.

“You’re scared of sex?” He mumbles, and she shakes her head.

“No… just… with him”

“That makes no sense, (y/n/n)”

“I know” She whispers out, and her fingers draw patterns on the sheets.

“You think he’s gonna… hurt you?” Richie asks, because as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he has to ask.

“No, of course not,” She replies, and lifts up his blanket so she can shimmy under it and warm up a bit.  “Sometimes I feel like I just don’t know him” Her voice drops to a whisper again.

Her eyes are focused on his tee shirt, trying to figure out what band is advertised on it while Richie thinks.  He’s not sure what to tell her, because of course he doesn’t want to promote her hooking up with him.  But… the guy’s her boyfriend, so what’s he supposed to do?

“(y/n)....” He sighs, and subconsciously wraps an arm around her.  His hand tangles in her hair, massaging her scalp comfortingly.  “That’s not true, you’ve been together for a while now”

The logic is there, but she’s unconvinced.

“And besides,” He continues, and she looks up at him, meeting his kind eyes.  “When you’re ready, you’ll know,” He says, and he grins before poking her cheek and nose.  “But you already know that”

She giggles softly, swatting away his hand.

“I hate when you’re right, you know,” She says through a yawn.

Without thinking, she leaned her head into his chest.

“What if I don’t want to do it, though?” She asks.  “What if… what if I don’t like it?”

“You hurt my feelings when you talk like you’ve never done it before”

“No more jokes,” She whispers.  “I mean it”

“Then you tell him, and you stop,” Richie answers without missing a beat.  “That’s how it works… you know that, right?”

“S-sure,” She stammers out.  “But what if-”

“No, there’s no ‘what ifs’ about that one, (y/n/n),” He tells her seriously.  “I’m not fucking around, if you want to stop then you-”

“Don’t worry, Rich,” She hums.  “You don’t have to give me the consent talk, that’s not what I mean”

His brows furrow down at her, but she doesn’t see because her eyes are closed and her face is hidden in his shirt.  For a second he’s distracted and wonders if he should be holding her like this when she has a boyfriend.

“What… do you mean, then?”

“What if I’m not… um…” She trails off, clearly embarrassed.

“Come on, don’t hold out on me now” Richie chuckles teasingly.

“... attracted to him… sexually?” She speaks like she’s unsure of her words, and it takes everything in Richie not to laugh out loud.

“That’s not something I can fix, hon” He tells her, and she can tell he’s holding back a laugh.

She’s silent, and Richie hopes she hasn’t fallen asleep, because knows it wouldn’t be right to share a bed for the night.

“I mean you’ve… done other stuff, right?” He asks, and even that seems wrong.  He really shouldn’t even be talking to her about this, but it’s not his fault that he’s the only person she can talk to about this stuff.

(It’s maybe his fault that they slept together in the first place, but surely (y/n) can take some responsibility for that one)

“Not really” She says in a barely audible mumble.

“Not really?” He repeats, confused by the question.  “All you’ve done is-”

“We’ve made out a couple times,” She tells him before she overthinks it and starts to feel uncomfortable.  “That’s it”

“Clothes have never come off?” He asks with a chuckle he can’t contain.

(y/n) shakes her head.

“What the fuck is wrong with-”

“Richie…”

“-him?” He finished anyways, taking her by surprise that he wasn’t trying to bash on her.  “Look, (y/n/n), it’s your relationship, you do what you want to do.  But do you even see a future with him?”

She’s silent again.

And then she shuffles off the mattress, and heads for the door.

“(y/n),” Richie called with a sigh.  “It’s just a question”

She held the open door in her hand, and looked back at him.  He had a guilty but confused look on his face, and was propped up in ed, hoping she’d come back and finish talking.

“I’m tired, Richie,” She said softly.  “Goodnight”

He let out a sigh, regretting having been so forward and pushing her out of her comfort zone.  He hadn’t realized it when he’d asked, but he sure as hell could tell now.

“Goodnight” He said before she could shut the door behind her.

(y/n) was glad that Beverly was fast asleep on the pullout bed still, because all she did for the rest of the night is fuss to get comfortable, only to lay wide awake, overthinking.

Trying to figure out a future with her boyfriend in it. ___

[ oh feel our bodies grow, and our souls they play // yeah love i hope you know how much my heart depends ]

It was loud, it was so loud that the bass in the music playing was ringing in her ears, and making the liquid in her cup ripple.  But that might have just been because she was stumbling around so much, trying to find somewhere to chill out for a minute in this sea of bodies.

Richie Tozier’s hand was holding on tightly to hers, pulling her behind him, acting as a guide through the chaos.  But who was she kidding, he was the chaos.  It was his house party after all.

How he’d even invited this many people, (y/n) wasn’t sure.  It’s not like he knew everyone here, but word of mouth works fast in Derry, and a byob party that had half a dozen kegs and then some, not one student from their school missed it.

Even Stan was here… somewhere.  

It was a bit hopeless to go looking for people in this crowd.

Finally Richie had taken them outside.  There were still a couple dozen people hanging out in his backyard, but at least she could hear herself think, or take a step without bumping into someone.

“Thank god,” She huffed, pushing her hair out of her face and taking a drink.  “I thought I was gonna get trampled to death in there”

Richie chuckles, eyes shining as he watched her finally relax a bit.

“You would’ve made this party worth talking about if you had” He teases her.

“I think it already is,” She replies with a small and nervous laugh.  “The whole school’s here, Rich, I think people will be talking about it for a- who brought a kiddie pool?”

She cuts herself off as her eye catch a plastic pool, filled with eyes and the most beer she’s ever seen all at once.  They definitely hadn’t brought it, although she’s surprised that none of them had thought of it when planning for this party.

“Don’t know” Richie shrugs, and then wanders over to grab them two bottles.

They’d been drinking soda all night, not wanting to get shit faced so they could keep an eye on things.  But they were well past that, and at this point, whatever happens, happens.

She taps her glass against his in a quiet ‘clink’

“Cheers to you, Tozier” She says with a rather sweet smile, the kind that he compulsively smiles back at.

“And you” He replies, before tipping the bottle back and taking a long swig.

The thing about (y/n) was that… well, there was just this thing.  An undeniable, unspoken, electric thing.  There was something about her that drew Richie towards her like a magnet.  Even tonight, he’d shown up at her side, and just like that they’d spent the last two hours together.  She was such a lovely person, which was a rarity in this town.  

He had a feeling that she owned his heart, even though he just had a silly teenage crush on her.  But what had started as a silly crush, an admiration for her beauty, grew into an adoration of her entire being, her soul.  He was falling for her, at a speed from the atmosphere, and he was bound to crash soon.

Her hand reaches out and seizes the sleeve of his denim jacket, yanking him towards her all in one motion.  His heart’s beating out of his chest with anticipation, but as quickly as she’d grabbed him, she was shaking him out of his daze.

“You almost got knocked over,” She tells him, nodding to the pair of drunken boys with their arms slung around one another, stumbling around the backyard, trying to walk in sync.  “You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry, out of it” He answered with choppy words.

He finds the crease between her brows adorable.

“You only took one sip,” She jokes, poking at his bottle.  “Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” She asks, holding four fingers in front of his face while giggling.

Richie rolls his eyes, grabbing her hand to pull it out of his face.

But he doesn’t let go.

And for the next hour, as they talk and drink a little and dance, her hand remains in his.  She didn’t say anything about it, which he’s silently thankful for.  Maybe she feels safer when attached to him, knowing she’s not going to get sucked into the crowd and lost.  Or maybe she just… wants to.

They’re dancing in the living room, to a song neither of them knew, with a hundred strangers, when she finally mentions it.

“You’re blushing!” She announces, albeit a bit tipsy.

There’s a grin on her face, and with her free hand she pokes at the pink on his cheeks.

“Cut that out- what’s with you and jabbing your fingers at me today?” He says, trying to brush it off and get her to forget about it.  It doesn’t work.

She bursts into a fit of laughter, and her body leans towards his a bit as she does.

She only lets go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck and spin them around excitedly.

“You never blush,” She says.  “So what’s on your mind?”

She sounds bubbly, as if his answer is amusing to her, and she’s impatient to hear it.  Richie shakes his head, and wills the heat in his face to go away, but it doesn’t.  Of course it doesn’t, she’s standing a few inches away from him and staring at him with those round and curious eyes that he loves and-

“You” He responds with a shrug.

His voice is cool and casual as ever, but he’s losing his shit on the inside.

Her lips form an ‘o’ as she processes the single word.  For a second he regretted speaking, which was kinda normal for him, but then her eyes lit up and she giggles with delightful bashfulness.

A breath of a laugh escapes his lips as he laughs nervously with her.

“You’re adorably funny” She says, and takes him by surprise when she leans up on her toes, cups her face in one hand, and presses a kiss to his other cheek.

When she lands back flat on her feet, she’s amused by the grin that she’d put on his face.

“Drinks?” She asks, and when he pulls a face, she clarifies, “Non-alcoholic drinks”

“Fine” He agrees, and when they head out of the living room, her hand reaches out and grabs his, slotting her fingers through his with ease.

He glances down to her when she does so, but she just gives him a big and innocent smile.

They find their friends in the kitchen.  Beverly and Eddie are quite… shit faced, while Bill is drinking water and trying to get them to have some as well.  From what Richie and (y/n) could tell, his efforts were useless.

“Let them be,” (y/n) says, ruffling up Eddie’s hair with her free hand, only to get swatted away.  “They’ll pay the consequences in the morning”

Bill shrugs and hums in agreement, but he tries to get them to drink something.

“What’s goin’ on here?” Bev asks, pointing at Richie and (y/n’s) conjoined hands.

Richie starts to let go, but she squeezes his hand and smiles almost proudly at her drunk friend.

“Well I don’t wanna get lost” She says confidently.

Beverly shrugs, not having the attention span to ask further questions, or really care.

“Is that- are you- is that rootbeer?” Eddie asks, and he squints at the can in (y/n’s) hand, like he can’t see.  “You’re at a- a fuckin’ party and you’re drinkin’ a soda?”

“Leave her alone Eddie Spaghetti” Richie chides, smacking the shorter boy on the shoulder.

“Yeah, Eddie Spaghetti” (y/n) adds in a mocking tone, and giggles to herself at the nickname.

Eddie hates it, but he’s drunk off his ass, so there’s not much he can do about it.  He’ll try to throw hands with Richie tomorrow.

Bev starts to tell a story about a fight she saw on the front lawn.  It’s missing parts, and she’s having a hard time remembering most of it, but they listen because it’s funny and interesting.

(y/n) sat herself on the kitchen counter, drink in one hand and Richie’s hand in the other, laughing along and encouraging her to continue.  Even when she finishes her story, she’s not sure what happened, or who was even fighting, but it doesn’t matter.

“It’s l-late,” Bill says, eyeing the stove that reads 2:15.  “I think I should go”

“You’re not staying the night?” (y/n) asked.

Richie’s parents would be gone for another day, leaving plenty of time for the Losers Club to hang out, and clean up the trashed house everyone else left behind.

“No, I sh-shouldn’t,” He says.  “B-but I’ll come b-back tomorrow to help with th-the mess” He adds in a reassuring tone.

“Alright Billy,” (y/n) reaches her arms out towards him, prompting him to hug her goodbye.  She embraces him tightly for a short moment.  “See ya tomorrow”

He gives a small wave, and then offers a ride to Eddie and Bev.  They both decide to keep drinking and crash at the house.  He’s not surprised.

“I feel like dancing!” Beverly declares, and is out of the kitchen before anyone could say a word.

“Man is she fuckin’ wasted” Eddie chuckles.

Richie and (y/n) burst out laughing at the irony, but don’t tell him why it’s funny when he asks why they’re laughing their asses off.

Eddie winds up sitting on the kitchen floor, and then laying on it, cradling an empty bottle of vodka to his chest.

“You gonna sleep down there with him?” Richie asks (y/n), and gives the asmathic on the floor a gentle kick.

(y/n) giggles and shakes her head, and without thinking, reaches out to grab onto his hands again.  With a small tug, he steps closer, almost standing between her open legs.  But he doesn’t dare move that close.

“No…” She answers after a minute.  “There’s no way in hell you’re making me sleep on a floor”

“Well, if the beds are all taken-”

“Richard Tozier” She says his name firmly, “If you don’t give me a bed to sleep in like a human fucking being I swear I will-”

“You’ll what, sweetheart?”

His voice drops an octave, and his head cocks to the side a bit as he stares at her skeptically, wondering what it was she was about to say next.  When her mouth is left hanging open, he smirks a little.

“Come on (y/n/n), you’re not the threatening type,” He speaks at a normal volume again, but his closeness and the look on his face doesn’t fade.  “Besides, you got nothing on me”

“Oh, I doubt that-” She tries to argue, but he cuts her off again.

“Just try to think of something, you can’t.  My record’s squeaky clean”  

He leans a bit closer with every word, but the movement is miniscule, and she’s probably the only person in the room who could have noticed it.

As soon as he eyes wander to his lips, they dart right back up, but it’s too late, he caught the glance, and his smirk widens.

Richie quirks a brow in question, like an asshole.

She sets her soda can on the counter next to her.

“You really value me so little that you’ll make me sleep, where, on the floor? The bathtub?”

“I think the tub is still occupied, actually,” Richie says.  “And the floor, well, it’s covered in trash and…” He looks down to Eddie, who’s very close to passing out.  “... more trash”

(y/n) hits his chest with the back of her hand.

“That was for Eddie” She says, and Richie laughs.

She’s got an offended look on her face, and fuck if it wasn’t the cutest thing he’s ever seen…

“I’m just saying sweetheart…” He shrugs his shoulders innocently.  “Your sleeping options aren’t looking great.  Pretty much everywhere is taken”

She’s quiet for a moment, and he can tell she’s hesitant, because she bites down on her lip, and she has a hard time keeping eye contact.  He doesn’t rush her to say whatever’s on her mind, just stands there, unmoving, and waits.

“Show me a bed, then, Tozier”

It’s soft, whispered like a secret, and unsure.

They’re both still for a beat, each waiting for the other to back out.

But neither do.

So he offers her his hand, which she gladly takes before hopping off the counter and following closely behind him.  Through the thinning crowd in the living room, and then up the stairs.

When they’re in the hall, he casts a look over his shoulder to her, and her eyes meet his instantly.

There’s something serious in them that he’s never seen in her before.  Like she was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it is.

Her free hand grabs onto the sleeve of his jacket, tethering herself to him.  There was nowhere to get lost up here, everyone was downstairs.  Except for the boy passed out in the bathtub, and Richie was fairly certain a couple passed out in his parent’s bedroom.  But right now, they were alone.

He brings her to his room, carefully peeking in to make sure no one was in there, before letting her inside.  He’s quick to shut and lock the door.

(y/n) gives him a look at the sound of the lock clicking, and his face flushes.

“I mean- it’d be weird if some frisky couple were to come in- while we’re in here” He defends his actions.

She just hums, and wanders over to his dresser, where his fish tank sat.  She smiled at his goldfish before swirling the tip of her finger in the water.

Richie just admires her while she glances over his things.  The picture frames, the trinkets and forgotten things he’s left there.  She looks so natural standing there.

It wasn’t often that she was in his room, Richie’s house isn’t somewhere that everyone hangs out at, and (y/n) and Richie rarely hang out alone.  It was kind of nice to have so much time with her tonight, just her.  And still, he wanted it all the time.

She can feel his eyes on her, and when she turns around, she isn’t surprised that she was right.

She gives him a small smile, and clasps her hands together behind her back.  It was a nervous habit she had, squeezing her hands together tightly, and Richie loved seeing her do it now.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in here,” She says, desperately trying to fill the silence.  “Hasn’t changed much though” She added in a quieter voice.

He doesn’t say anything, and it only amps up her nerves.

And then he strides over to her, rather quickly, and her breath caught in her throat as he’s suddenly towering over her, face a mere few inches away from hers.  

She’s frozen, staring at him wide eyed and waiting for him to do something.

She’d thought he was going to kiss her, and when he didn’t, hear heart only beat harder in her chest.

“What?” She asks, wondering what he was doing if he wasn’t going to make a move.

“Nothing” He shakes his head, and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you doing then?” She questions him again, voice a hundred times softer.

He gives her a playful smirk, and she almost frowns at him, annoyed by the teasing.

“I’m not doing anything” He hums with a shrug.

She rolls her eyes, done with the games, and steps away.  She needs a breath.  Or two.  Two very deep breaths.

But before she can, Richie’s hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, pulling her back so rough that she collides into his chest, making them both stagger for a brief moment, until his lips crash down into hers.

She’s just gotten her balance back when he pulls away, staring at her expectantly, waiting for her to tell him to stop.

Her lips are parted and she’s panting softly, still in shock, and her eyes flutter open to meet his.

She doesn’t tell him to stop, instead, she leans up on the tips of her toes to kiss him again, a much longer kiss that she wished he’d begun with.

They pulled away at the same time.

“We can’t tell the others!” They both rush out the words so fast, so panicked, but it disappears as they register the other agrees.

And then all at once they’re kissing again.  His hands are gripping her hips, keeping her pressed completely against him, while hers are tangled in his hair, combing and gripping at his strands of curls.

Their lips move so feverishly, both desperate for every second to be fulfilling.  They knew this was a once in a lifetime chance, that this was their only chance, and it had to be perfect.

They part for a few seconds, so (y/n) can catch her breath.

His nose prods against hers, before he takes her cin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head to the side so that he can trail a line of kisses along her jaw, tracing up to the sweet spot just below her ear.

He bit the soft skin, because he couldn’t help himself.  She gasped softly, and then giggled at the delightful and ticklish feeling of his mouth against the spot.  Her hands tighten a bit in his hair.

Eventually, once he’s left a decent purple mark on her neck, she tugs on his hair, pulling his lips back to hers needily.  She’s delicate as she glides over the seam of his lips with her tongue.  Richie isn’t so sweet as he gladly tangles his own tongue with hers.

When she’s the one to win the battle for dominance, she smirks against his lips.  But Richie’s quick to retaliate, turning her suddenly, and pushing her backwards until she runs into the wall.

Her lips detach from his as she grunts at the surprise contact, and her eyes shoot up to his out of annoyance.

“Jesus, fucking watch it” She mutters.

She grabs the collar of his jacket and yanks his lips back down to hers anyways, already craving more contact.

Kissing Richie Tozier is exactly as she expected, or more accurately dreamed, it would be.  Bliss.  Passionate.  Hot.

She hastily shoves his jacket down his shoulders, and then practically clawed the sleeves off of his arms.  As soon as it was discarded, his hands slammed into the wall on either side of her head, caging her in.  She loves it.

She wonders if he’s really gotten her addicted to his lips in a matter of two minutes.

After a few more kisses, she confirms that he has.

Her arms wrap around his neck and she can’t hold back a smile.

They part for a moment, and then rush to his bed.

(y/n’s) giggling as Richie crawls over her, one hand caressing her cheek while the other is pinned to the bed as not to crush her.  His thumb brushed over her cheekbone sweetly.

“You’re sure?” He asks, suddenly worried that he was rushing her.

But she nods, excitedly, and pulls his face down so she can kiss him again.

“But like-” Richie pulls away.  “You’re sure you’re sure? Like absolutely positive?”

“Richie,” She laughs, shaking her head a bit.  “Yes”

And that’s how it happened. ___

[ but i guess that’s love, i can’t pretend… i can’t pretend... ]

(y/n) had known Richie pretty much her whole life.  And they’d always gotten along, despite his big mouth and his tendency to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.  She found it endearing that he would call her hot stuff and then his face would go bright red, knowing he’d made a mistake.

But the thing was, that changed the day after they’d hooked up.  They were still friends, they still hung out, and it wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it was different.  He didn’t call her cute names anymore, not even sweetheart.  He stuck solely to his nickname for her.

She wasn’t sure if it was because of their incident, or because she was seeing someone.  It often felt like she was walking on eggshells around him, unsure of what to say or do.  It was like as soon as they’d crossed the line between friends and more than friends, she wasn’t sure how to go back to being just friends.

And she hadn’t ever thought of Richie as boyfriend material.  Even when they’d hooked up, she hadn’t considered the idea of being with him romantically.  Sure, he was attractive and funny and… charismatic, exciting, and somehow tender at the same time-”

“Babe..? Babe?”

(y/n) snapped back to reality, spinning around to see her boyfriend standing behind her.  He gave a short laugh before nodding to the dish in her hand that she must have been scrubbing for a few minutes now.

“Daydreaming?” He asks, while she bashfully set the very clean plate on the counter.

“Something like that” She replied, and went on to cleaning the next dish.

They’d had a nice dinner, one they both prepared.  She thought it would be fun to cook with him, maybe they would even listen to music and dance around the tiled floor.  But her boyfriend wasn’t that kind of guy, and this wasn’t a romantic comedy.

Richie would dance in the kitchen with me-

“So!” (y/n) spoke, a little too loud as she tried to rid her own thoughts from her head.  “Movie?”

Her boyfriend grinned, and gave her a thumbs up before leaving the kitchen and heading to the living room to pick out a good movie for them to watch.

(y/n) went back to distracting herself with doing the dishes.  But her pesky thoughts kept on getting in the way of her task.

Thinking of Richie in a romantic light made her feel dazed.  He was Richie.  Trashmouth Tozier, the boy she grew up with that was infamous for trying to ride his bike off the cliffside at the quarry.  He wasn’t someone you had a crush on, he was someone you always had a dumb story about.

But besides that, it simply wasn’t fair of her to think of him this way.  They had both agreed that what they had was a one time thing, and it didn’t mean anything to either of them.  They were just friends, and that was all either of them wanted to be.

At least, that’s what she’d always told herself.

But when she thought back on last summer, all she could remember was how badly she wanted him to kiss her that whole night.  And when he finally had… it felt like she was flying.

Drying the last dish, she left it on the counter, and forced herself to relax on the couch with her boyfriend.

Whatever movie he’d picked, she’d never heard of, and it only took seven minutes of watching it for her to realize why.  It was boring.

She was so damn near close to passing out, even though he seemed excited to share it with her.

“Hey,” She hummed after half an hour of forcing herself to stay awake.  He hummed in response, but didn’t look away from the television.  

So she took matters into her own hands, and turned his head so she could kiss him.

She poured all of the passion that she could into the kiss, hoping to convey that she wanted him, and she wanted him now.

But how could she do such a thing when it wasn’t true? She simply wasn’t convincing enough.  Not to him, or herself.

Defeated, she pulled away from him, and by the look on his face, she knew that he sensed her disappointment.  Which was ironic, because he had never been in sync with her emotions in the last four and a half months they’d been together.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

There was a deep frown on her face, and her eyes were so apologetic that he just knew what was coming next.

“I’m sorry” She mumbled out.

“(y/n)...?” He was hoping that by some miracle she wasn’t about to break up with him.

“I can’t do this anymore” She finished weakly, voice cracking a bit as her throat burned with tears.

“What do you mean?” He asked.  “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She didn’t say anything, just shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep herself from crying.  It would be pathetic if she broke up with him and she was the one to cry about it.

“Whatever it is I can work on it, we can fix it-”

“No, you can’t-”

“Yes I can-”

“You can’t fix this!” She shouted, not meaning to come off as angry, but her emotions had flustered her and it was making her frustrated.  “Because there’s nothing to fix, there’s nothing here” She clarified, her hands flying between them.

“What do you mean there’s nothing here?” He asked, sounding broken.  For a moment, she felt bad for saying something so cruel.  “Is there someone else?”

And then her guilt disappeared.

“What? Of course not-”

“Well there- there has to be!”

“Well there isn’t!” She shouted back.  “Jesus Christ, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” She rolled her eyes.  “I don’t feel anything, anything, for you! I thought with time that I could learn to love you, but I haven’t.  There’s no spark-”

He seized forward, taking her face in his hands and kissing her frantically.

But just as soon as his mouth crushed over hers, she shoved his shoulders with all the force she could muster, and leapt off of the sofa.

She was stunned to silence at first, surprised that he’d done something so dramatic and… disgusting.

“I’m done,” She said, heading for the door, and putting on her shoes and coat with lightning speed.  “Don’t fucking call me- don’t talk to me at school, I’m done”

He tried to call after her, but she slammed the door behind her as she stormed out, and ran down the sidewalk, just in case he had the idiotic idea to chase after her.

She slowed at the end of the block, mentally striking herself upside the head at the thought.  Of course he wouldn't chase after her.  It would be an act of passion for him to pursue her, and he would be in denial to think he was any more in love with her than she was with him.

It dawned on her that she’d been in denial for the past four months for thinking she could learn to love him.  You can’t learn to love anybody, it has to come naturally.  And there wasn’t one natural thing about their relationship.

She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm in the chilly december air, and walked the rest of the way home.  She’d had enough of today, and just wanted to crawl into bed, and try not to cry. ___

When the doorbell rang, Richie ignored it.  Surely his parents would get it, and he could stay in bed.

When it rang again, he shoved his pillow over his head.

It wasn’t until the third time the sound rang that he remembered his parents were at an event in Augusta tonight.

So with a groan, and the realization that whoever it was, wasn’t going to go away, he dragged himself out of bed, and down the stairs.

It was almost midnight, who the fuck was a the door? He decided if it was some freshman ding-dong ditching him, that he’d run them down and ruin their shit.

When he whipped open the door, he also opened his can of whoop ass on the unsuspecting freshman.

“Do you realize that it’s the middle of the fucking ni-”

He shut up real fast when he realized it was (y/n) standing there, who now looked incredibly taken off guard to have been greeted so harshly.

“(y/n)?”

It was only then that he realized she was crying softly.

“Oh- oh my god, I’m sorry-  I thought you were-”

“It’s fine” She said, and then sniffled quietly.

“What- what are you-”

“I’m sorry, it’s not r-right of me to show up in the middle of the night,” She whimpered a little bit, and wiped her sleeve over her cheeks to get rid of her tears.  “I should go home-”

“No,” Richie reached out, taking her wrist and tugging her inside.  “Come in, stay” He rushed the words out while shutting the door, not wanting her to leave, and especially not like this.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop her own shivering.  She didn’t even want to look at Richie while crying, but at the same time-

“So what’s going on-?”

Before he could even finish talking, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder.

Richie stumbled a bit from the sudden force of her hug, but wrapped his arms around her nonetheless and hugged her tightly.

It was obvious that she was trying to stop crying in front of him, but she just couldn’t help it.

“Did something happen?” He asked, but received no answer.  “Are you hurt?”

He could feel her tears seeping into the fabric of his tee shirt.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He called softly, and pulled her away to look at her.  She kept her eyes shut, which made him chuckle, but eventually she looked up at him.  “Come on, (y/n/n),” He hummed.  “Talk to me”

She took in a deep breath, and Richie mentally prepared himself for whatever was going to come next.  It must be serious if she came to him instead of Beverly, or Eddie.

“I couldn’t have sex with him” She murmured.

Richie’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and confusion, and a feeling he wasn’t quite sure of.  He never would have guessed that’s what had her so distraught.

“Um…”

“I know,” (y/n) cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks again.  “It��s pathetic, I’m so pathetic!”

“(y/n),” Richie said, setting his hands on her shoulders so she would calm down.  “You’re not- where is this coming from? Why are you so upset about this?”

It took her a minute to catch her breath, and her tears hadn’t really stopped flooding, but at least she could speak again.

“I broke up with him” She admitted.

Richie’s eyes widened, and again, she’d done what he’d least expected.  Her eyes were darting between his, trying to figure out what he was thinking.  But he looked so shocked, she couldn’t tell.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” She asked in a murur, her hands resting against his chest, and her body gravitating towards his a bit more from the sensitive question.

“I…”

He was having a hard time maintaining eye contact with her, his brain moving far too fast and his train of thought going in too many different directions for him to comprehend what he even thought.

“You do, don’t you?” (y/n) asked defeatedly.  “I should’ve tried harder- maybe I could have loved him-?”

“What? (y/n), no, don’t think like that,” He scolded her gently.  “If you didn’t feel anything, then that’s it, that’s the end, it didn’t work”

She stares down at her feet.

“(y/n)...” Richie sighed, lifting her chin softly with his hand.  “Did you even like him?”

She shrugged her shoulders, which was answer enough.

“Oh, (y/n),” His thumb stroked gently against her jaw, before he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her again.  “If you didn’t like him there was never even a chance of you falling in love- that’s just not how it works sweetheart”

(y/n) grabbed the back of his shirt in her fists, just wanting to hold onto him for a few moments longer.

“How’s it work?” She mumbled into his shoulder after embracing for a few moments.

“Well first of all, you don’t learn to do it, it just happens,” He chuckles, and his hands begin to rhythmically rub her back.  “And you won’t find them boring.  That guy was a sack of fucking potatoes (y/n/n) I don’t know what you were doing with him-”

“Yeah yeah I get it,” She cut him off before he could go on.  “What else?” Her voice was so soft, so full of curiosity for where these kind words were coming from, that she just had to know what more Richie thought about the subject.

“Well…” He hummed, still rubbing her back as he thought.  “You typically enjoy their company, more than anyone else’s, even if you won’t admit it,” He was thinking out loud.  “And they’ll always be the prettiest thing in your eyes- even when they won’t stop crying all over you” He teased.

She glared up at him, and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“Come on, be real,” She said.  “He was nice, and cute, and he really liked me, why wasn’t there a spark?”

He shook his head at her.

“Like I said.  Can’t learn to love someone, and you can’t force what isn’t there,” He shrugged.  “I’m sorry though.  You’re clearly bothered by it”

She wanted to explain that she wasn’t bothered by the breakup at all.  She was bothered by the mixup in her feelings.  By what she thought to be true- but wasn’t quite sure yet.

“You want tea? Or something?” He offered after she hadn’t spoken for a few beats.

“No,” She shook her head, and then stepped back from him.  “A blanket would be nice though? I had to walk the whole way here and it’s freezing”

Richie chuckled, and nodded.

“‘I’ll get one from upstairs.  Be right back”

He headed off rather quickly, taking the steps two at a time to get a blanket from his room.

The one time she’d stayed overnight, she’d really liked one of his- and he’d know, because she hogged it, and he had to wake her up to get her to share.  So he figured that one would do fine.

At the sound of a soft knocking at his door frame, he turned to see (y/n) standing there.

Her eyes were wandering around his room, mapping it out like it was her first time here.  However, she hadn’t been here since…

He didn’t miss the blush on her cheeks when her gaze landed on his bed, the covers messed up from his attempts to sleep earlier.  And then finally, she looked at him.

“Oh,” She smiled, and walked into the room, taking the blanket from his hands.  “You remembered” She said with a small laugh as she wrapped it tightly around herself.

It was still a little bit warmed, and smelled so distinctly like Richie, it made her want to melt into it.  And she nearly did for a moment.

“Well how could I you almost made me freeze to death that night”  He muttered teasingly.

“Fuck off, I did not” She played back, but her voice was much gentler than his.

He gave her a look as if to say ‘you did though’, which she only rolled her eyes to.

Deciding it’d be best to ignore him, she walked over to his dresser to excitedly play with his fish.  It didn’t do much, but it did swim back and forth in front of her finger, which was amusing enough.

“You… want to watch a movie?” Richie asked.

He didn’t want her to leave, but he didn’t know how to offer her to stay the night either.

“Sure” She answered, and followed him downstairs.

Richie made her pick the movie, that way whatever they watched she wouldn’t lose interest in.

“What?” She’s asked when he tried to leave the room for popcorn.

“I said pick whatever you want so you actually watch it and enjoy it” Richie repeated himself, and was in the kitchen before he could see her face change expressions.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, and all she could do was stare at where he stood with his back to her.  She didn’t even bother looking at his DVD collection, and followed him into the kitchen.

“You want me to pick a movie I like?” She asked him.

Richie gave her a weird look over his shoulder as she set the timer on the microwave.

“What? Yeah” He answered.

“But you’ll hate it,” She said matter-of-factly.  “It’s a chick flick, it’s real cheesy, not even Eds would watch it with me”

“Okay?” Richie repeated.  “You setting me up to hate it?”

She stared at him skeptically, and Richie had a similar look on his face, but only because he was very confused.

“Just pick a movie, (y/n/n), anyone’s fine” He chuckled.

He pulled the bag of popcorn out of the mic when it beeped, and dumped it’s contents into a large bowl.  When he turned back around, (y/n) was still standing there.  His brows furrowed, and he popped a kernel into his mouth.

“Would you dance with me?” She asked him.

Her volume was so soft he almost didn’t catch what she’d said, but when he processed the words, he was sure he’d heard her wrong.

“What?”

“Would you dance with me?” She repeated, a bit more clearly.  “If I asked?”

“Is…. that what you want to do?” Richie spoke unsurely, trying to figure out what part of the breakup process ‘dancing’ would fall under.  He shoved more popcorn into his mouth.

“I just wanna know” She shrugged.

“I mean, sure, but then the popcorn would get cold, it’s only good when it’s-”

“Richie” She mumbled, and by some miracle he actually heard her, and stopped rambling.  He knows from the way she’s staring at him, and the sudden softness in her voice that something’s up.  He waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“What?” He feels like he’s lost, because he really has no idea what’s going on with her tonight.  This breakup had really thrown her for a loop, he supposed

“Nothing” She shook her head, and before he could question her about her strange behavior, snatched the popcorn bowl and made a break for the living room.

When they got settled on the sofa and the movie (y/n) picked began to play.  They were sat side by side, the bowl of popcorn separating them.  She tucked her feet up underneath her in an attempt to be more comfortable, and kept on fussing with the blanket.  It was like no matter how many times she readjusted, she just couldn’t get settled.

Eventually, she sighed, and looked over at Richie.

Low and behold, he was completely wrapped up in the plot of the movie, and hadn’t noticed a thing.  (y/n) smiled at this, loving that he’d actually gotten into her lame romantic comedy.  She leaned her head back on the cushion as she admired him.  He was so serious when he was focused on something, his jaw set in place, eyes trained on the screen.  It was so cute how drawn into the movie he really was.

Something happened that made him laugh, and he turned to (y/n) to crack a joke about it, but whatever he was about to say was lost on him when he caught her eyes already locked on him.

“Would you do it again?” She asked, before he could think of anything to say.  He doesn’t have to ask her to clarify what she means, because he knows, he can tell by the way she’s studying him.  “Ever?” She adds in a mumble after he’s been quiet for just a beat too long.

“Well, that’s a trick question now isn’t it?” He chuckles, but she shakes her head.

“No,” She speaks softly, “It’s not, I’m just wondering,”

She’s looking up at him so innocently that he wonders what sparked this question.  Not that he hadn’t been thinking about it every minute of every day for the past four and a half months or so.  He just didn’t think it ever crossed her mind.  They had sworn to each other that it was a one time thing, no pesky strings or feelings attached.  And Richie had thought she’d stuck to that promise pretty well- mostly because not a week later she’d gotten asked out, and then she dated the guy for a while.  

“There’s no wrong answer, Rich,” She giggles, a nervous little sound that was the result of her heart doing backflips in her chest.  “Really”

His eyes flicker between her impatient ones, testing to see if that were really true.

“Kind of” He says.

Her brows furrowed, signaling that there apparently was a wrong answer, and he’d said it.

“Kind of-?”

“Well, there’s a lot I’d do differently” He muses with a shrug of his shoulders, before she could get upset and ask him just what the hell ‘kind of’ means.

She angles her body a bit more towards his, waiting eagerly to hear what he has to say.  But he gives her a confused look.

“What would you do differently?” She asks.  She sounds restless, and Richie chuckles to himself.  “Come on, really”

“For starters, I wouldn’t have chosen to do it at my own houseparty.  Someone busted the coffee table you know, and I blame you for that-”

“What else?” She asks abruptly.

“Alright well,” Richie huffs, deciding there was no turning back now, because she was already more than eager to hear what he was thinking.  “Also probably should’ve been a little more sober, just a little,” She laughed quietly, but didn’t speak so that he’ll keep talking.  “And I would’ve grabbed an extra blanket, had I known you were a blanket hogger”

She laughs again, and this time he laughs with her.  It’s a sweet moment, for it being so vulnerable.

“And I would’ve made sure you didn’t go in the morning” He confesses, in the midst of their laughter.  (y/n’s) laughter stops instantaneously.

“What?” She murmurs, like she’d heard him wrong, because she must have heard him wrong.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.  “I wouldn’t have let you go”

She blinks, stunned.

“You wanted me to stay?” She asks, a sweet little whisper that was bound to make everything come crashing down.

“Of course I did,” Richie chuckles.  “I’d be an idiot to let you- I was an idiot to let you go.  I hated that feeling,”

She’s silent again, her lips parted as the more he explained himself, the more surprised she was.

“It felt like- like I’d made the biggest mistake of my life- and trust me sweetheart, sleeping with you was a miracle- but if I could do it over again I wish that I could’ve...um…”

She’s waiting, hanging on to every word he spoke.  She doesn’t realize that she’s leaning closer to him, too antsy to wait for him to find his voice.

“(y/n/n) if I’m being honest then I would’ve told you how I felt- about you- that night”

“How you felt about me?” She repeats in disbelief, and then sits upright on the couch, realizing they’re only a few inches away from one another.  

Richie watches her as she takes the popcorn bowl and sets it to the side.  And then leans back in towards him again, giving him her undivided attention.

“And how did you feel about me?” She murmurs.

Her hands set on his wrists, grasping onto them softly as his hands reach out to wrap around her waist.

“How didn’t I feel- Jesus I liked you so much I lost my fucking mind when you wanted me too”

Once he’s holding her firmly, she lets go of his hands to rest her palms on his shoulders, tilting up towards him to be more at his height.  Even sat on the couch Richie practically towered over her.

“I didn’t know it was more to you than a quick fuck” She hums.  Her voice is too sweet to be saying something so filthy, and it makes him chuckle just a bit.

He couldn’t help but tug her hips forwards, small prod really, but she took the bait and swung her leg over his lap.

“There was nothing quick about it sweetheart,” He teases, and as she situates herself on his lap, he releases one of his hands from her waist to gently trail his fingers over her throat, until his hand settles against the side of her neck.  She’s blushing, but she’s smiling with anticipation.

He pulls her towards him a bit, and the tip of her nose presses against his cheek, her lips barely ghosting his.  When her eyes flickered shut, Richie smirks

“And you were never a quick fuck”

She leans in, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and never stop.  There was more electricity between them in this moment than she’d ever felt with her ex, and the realization made her feel like she was alive again.

Just as her moment of liberation is about to happen, the doorbell rings.

Richie brushes it off and cups her cheek, leaning in to kiss her anyways, but then his visitor started screaming.

“Richiieeee!” The distinct voice of Eddie Kaspbrack rings out from the other side of the door.  “Dude! Open up! I got some drama for you!”

Richie and (y/n) turn to look at each other, equally confused.

“Let’s just pretend he’s not there” Richie says, making her giggle as he finally tries to kiss her.

And then Eddie lets himself in.

“I’m coming in!” He announces, and shuts the door behind him.  “You’re not gonna believe this! (y/n) broke up with-”

It doesn’t surprise the couple on the couch when Eddie stops talking, and stares wide eyed and open mouthed.

“What the fuck is going on here!?” He’s screaming, which also isn’t a surprise, but it’s very upsetting.

(y/n) calmly slides off of Richie’s lap, and he lets go of his hold on her.

“Nothing” They say at the same time, unconvincingly.

“You were on his lap-” Eddie accuses.

“I-”

“You were kissing-!”

“No-?” Richie tries.

“You guys have been fucking this whole time!” He screeches.

“No!” Richie and (y/n) speak simultaneously again.

“Wait,” (y/n) walks over to Eddie.  “How did you know I broke up with-”

“He called me” Eddie shrugged.

“What?”

“Yeah, he was trying to call you, but you never picked up.  Clearly you weren’t home, because you were here, letting Richie get in your pants- jesus fuck (y/n) I thought you had better standards-”

“Stop it” (y/n) hissed, before frustratedly running her hands through her hair.

Richie shot up from the couch, walking over in hopes of convincing her to sit back down and relax again.  But she shrugged off his hand and continued to pace around between him and Eddie.

“Very uncool, dickwad” Richie muttered to Eddie, who gave him an exasperated look and flipped him off.

“Why’d you come here then?” (y/n) spoke up.

“Um… huh?” Eddie played stupid.

“Why’d you come here? If my ex called you looking for me, why’d you come to tell Richie the news?”

Eddie and Richie shared a look, only making the girl more confused.

“I- well I thought you’d be here, you know, for support-”

Eddie shut up when the girl narrowed her eyes in disbelief.  He was never a good liar, and (y/n) had a pretty good bullshit detector.

“This isn’t important,” Eddie shook his head.  “What’s important is that he’s heartbroken, and looking for y-”

“I don’t care,” (y/n) said with a humorless chuckle as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “I don’t fucking care! He’s the worst, and he’s insane to think that he was ever in love with me.  Had a real boring way of expressing it-”

“Uh, I’m not here to tell you to get back together with him” Eddie said before she could yell anymore.

“What are you here for, then?” (y/n) asked.

“I could ask you the same thing” Eddie shoots back, and smirks victoriously between the two.

Richie’s just standing there, knowing better than to open his mouth.  If he did, something bad would slip and he knew it, so he stared down at the ground.

(y/n) puckers her lips, casting a glance to Rich before back to Eddie.

“Well?” The asthmatic boy asks.  “What the fuck were you guys up to?”

“None of your business,” Richie says before (y/n) has the chance to say anything.  “You should go, Eds, I’ll call you tomorrow.  We’re busy”

“With what?” Eddie’s practically daring Richie to confess.

“We’re watching a movie, don’t make me fucking kick you out”

Eddie rolls his eyes, bored with the lack of drama, and then heads for the door.

As soon as he closes it, he whips it open again, pointing an accusatory finger at the pair left standing there, as if he’d caught them in the act.

“Go, Eds” They both say, with the utmost annoyance in their voices.

This time when he left, they both watched the door, as if waiting for him to jump back into the room again.  When it was clear he’d actually gone this time, (y/n) let out a sigh of relief.

She looked at Richie, and then back to the couch, where the movie, the popcorn bowl, and her blanket were left unattended.

“I should probably g-”

“You wanna stay the night?” Richie asked before she could finish her sentence, and her eyes shot up to his.

“Really?” She asked in disbelief.

Richie just nodded, and so she hesitantly nodded back.

“Okay” She agreed softly.

“I’ll find something for you to sleep in,” He told her.  “You can finish the movie if you want” And with that he headed up the stairs.

At this point, she was more confused than ever.  She had no idea where her and Richie stood now, the line between friendship and something… else… was so warped in her mind that she couldn’t tell how he felt anymore.

Richie came back down a few minutes later, finding her sat on the couch with the movie paused and the popcorn bowl in her lap.  He grinned as he handed her a long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants that looked very soft.

After changing quickly in the bathroom, she concluded they were the coziest things she’d ever worn.  And Richie’s scent and laundry detergent lingered in them, making every inhale of breath she took be inviting.

When she came back out, Richie was on the couch, just waiting.  His back was turned to her, and she could tell he was drumming his hands on his legs, a frequently done nervous habit of his.

She stood there for a moment, too anxious to walk over and sit with him like nothing had happened in the last half hour.  Even though with everything that’s happened, her heart was beating a mile a minute with no end in sight.

Richie must’ve realized she was there, because he turned and made a face as if to ask why she was just standing there.

His expression softened though when his eyes landed on her figure.  She looked so goddamn cute in his clothes that were just a bit too big for her.  And by just a bit, I mean the sleeves kept falling over her hands and the waistband of the sweatpants had probably been rolled three times to keep the fabric from barely touching the ground.

He thought he was gonna have a stroke.

“You gonna come sit, sweetheart?” He finally spoke, “Or just stand there and look pretty all night?”

She laughs, and the tension in the room thins out a little as she makes her way over to sit with him again.  Richie plays the movie again, and just like before, gets sucked right into it.

(y/n) sort of watches it, but has little attachment to what’s going on.  Her mind is too busy processing everything, there was no capacity to keep an eye on a film as well.

The popcorn bowl is empty, so she can’t distract herself with eating.  And she’s already tapping her fingers on her knee to a made up beat in her mind.  How Richie is able to actually watch this movie right now is beyond her.

“(y/n)?” He asks, and she realizes he’s been staring at her for a while, trying to get her attention.  She hums in response.  “Do you want me to shut off the movie?”

Her eyes are wide as they meet his.

“W-why?” She stammers out.

“Because you aren’t paying attention at all,” He chuckles.  “Are you tired? It is like… one in the morning”

“Uh- yeah, I-I guess” She stumbles over her words again, and balls up the fabric of her blanket in her hands.

He gives her a dorky little smile, and then stands to turn off the tv.  She watches him grab the empty bowl before leaving the room.

She gets up to follow him into the kitchen, but he waved her off.

“You should go up to bed,” He says.  “I’ll finish up down here”

She doesn’t know what else to say, so she follows the instructions.

It dawns on her that she hasn’t told her parents that she won’t be coming home tonight, but as she gets situated in Richie’s bed with her new favorite blanket, she just can’t seem to care.  She decides a lecture when she comes home tomorrow is worth it.

She’s under all the covers, and her face is buried deep into a pillow when Richie finally comes up.  He smirks at how settled she’s already gotten.

“You sleeping already?” He asks quietly, and her eyes open to smile at him.

“No, ‘m waiting” She hums, before snuggling her face back into her pillow.

“Waiting?” He asks, and walks closer to hear her better.

“Mhm”

“For… Santa?”

“For you, dummy,” She giggles softly, and then makes a grabby hand towards him.  “Hurry up”

He laughs, and shakes his head at her, before kneeling onto the bed.

“I kinda thought I should sleep on the-”

“In here,” She whispers, hand finding his wrist and latching onto it.  “With me, please” She adds in a much softer voice, like she’s embarrassed to ask, and he knows that she is.

“Okay…” Richie hesitantly gets under the covers.  “As long as that doesn’t bother you”

“It didn’t before” She replies casually.

Her eyes are closed, but he smiles warmly at the comment.  He thinks she’s falling asleep, but he was wrong, because her hand trailed from his wrist so that her fingertips were pressed into his palm.

“Richie?” She calls quietly.

He hums.

Her eyes open, and she squirms a little closer to him, finding comfort in the heat he radiated.

Her fingers slot into the spaces between his perfectly, and she grasps his hand tight.

“You weren’t a quick fuck for me either,” She admits gently.

He can see in her eyes that she’s uncertain, that she’s nervous to say anything, so he squeezes her hand to reassure her that she can tell him anything.

“And I wanted you long before that night, I just… um…” She licks her lips anxiously before continuing.  “I didn’t think that you uh… actually wanted me, you know, like, more than…” She doesn’t finish her thought, but she doesn’t have to.

Richie gives her a smile, and then reaches his free hand out to brush his knuckles over her cheek.  She smiles back at the comforting touch.

“You’ll stay in the morning?” He whispers, and she nods, brows drawn together as her smile widens.  “Good” He breathes out in relief.

They lean in simultaneously, and their lips touch in a soft and sweet kiss.  (y/n) relishes in how her lips seemed to have his committed to memory, and she melts against him once again.

She pushes forward so that her body is flush against his, and her free hand is holding his shirt in a fist.  She’s filled with more love and lust and happiness that a girl can be, practically overflowing with it, even.

Richie pulls away too soon for her liking, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear tenderly before meeting her gaze.

“If anyone asks,” He tells her, “That was our first kiss”

(y/n) giggles, and nods her head before kissing him sweetly again.

“Okay” She agrees.

His fingers comb through her hair for a few moments, and he contemplates laying here, like this, with her, for the rest of his life.  The quiet moment is so serene, so perfect, that he can’t imagine ever being happier than he is right now.

(y/n) whispers something, but it’s so soft that he only catches her lips moving.

“What?” He muses, and instantly there’s a pink blush blooming across her cheeks.  “What?” He asks again, this time chuckling at her bashfulness.

“I love you…” She murmurs, only darkening her blush.

Richie pulls her into his chest, wrapping her up in his arms as he cradles her close for the night.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” He responds with a kiss to the top of her head.  “Let’s do it right this time, okay?”

“M’kay” She hums back delightedly, already beginning to fall asleep in his arms.

It took months of agony and confusion to get here, but it couldn’t be clearer now.  This is what love was supposed to feel like.  She hadn’t learned to love before because that’s simply not how it works.  Her heart already belonged to someone else, and she hardly even knew it.  But now, it and she were all his, and he’d take good care of them.

[ i guess that’s love, i can’t pretend. ]

___

taglist: @fiantomartell​ @lemonypink @darling-egg​​

xoxo ~ jordie

[nashmusings]

【Book Review】 Small Notebook Usage Techniques to Help Your Live Your Days The Way You Want, Everyone's 74 Usage Examples

If you're a weeb (odds that you are, reading this blog), you'd know that JP titles are no fucking joke. In this post, besides reviewing the book, I'll be talking about some of the take-home messages from the book and anything of interest that stuck out to me. I'll also be looking at this book through the lens of a bullet journal user.

What's the book about?

It's actually the 2nd in a series called the "Small Notebook Usage Techniques", this one collects 74 examples from other small notebook users, the first one was solely by the author sharing his usage examples and MO. This one does have a taste of the author's, Takahashi Takuya (herein Takahashi), own usage and his MO. This book was published in Late Feb of 2021, and so it's very COVID-19-centered. As with Covid, everyone was locked home and overwhelmed by the changes the pandemic wrought. And so, this book was sort of written with that in mind, to 'reclaim' back our lives through the mighty small notebook.

Why a small sized notebook?

A small canvas has its own charms and perks, one may argue that an A5 book is the way to go. With a smaller space, you don't feel pressured to finish up the entire page to avoid wastage. And it's the 'perfect' size for one 'subject'. Not to mention that it's small-enough to be forked out anywhere or on the go so that you can quickly jot things down that comes to mind. Takahashi's MO on small notebooks does share some parallels with bullet journalling, in the sense of brain dumping all that you have onto the page. Numbered pages are essential, as well as an index. Here are the spreads that are under the "Takahashi-Style" spreads.

A to-do list & idea memo that grants you the ability to observe everyday happenings

A to-do list with a reward system

A grid that allows you to see everyone's roles (for work hierarchies and the like)

A memo that grants you the ability to deepen your understanding on a particular thing

A themepark-like route for going about meetings

A personal manual (referential spread)

Whiteboard-like usage (braindumping)

Inventory list

Namecard scrapbook

Running record

Uneasiness/worry memo

Cooping memo

Emergency contact memo I'll be going through a few of these spreads which I found interesting and that I found especially useful for the small notebook format, as some of the spreads can easily be compiled in a bullet journal. The book comes with lots of visuals and sample diagrams so I'd highly recommend you pick up the book. Every spread in the Takahashi-Style makes use of a header with a date to it and have it underlined (at number 1).

A grid that allows you to see everyone's roles (for work hierarchies and the like) sample page

1. The to-do list & idea memo that grants you the ability to observe everyday happenings

The to-do list will be comprised of 1 daily page, and here you write down all your tasks for the day. The idea memo section is made so that there's as little friction as possible by using the last page of the book, you can always rotate the book vertically to get your page spread orientation right. This memo section is just a list, with the date of when the idea was written and a bullet point of what the idea entails. You can always attach the page number to the heading when you explore that idea in detail in the front section of the book.

2. A to do list with a reward system

This one is fairly straight forward. Construct a to-do list of what needs to be done in the day and then make a margin at the bottom of the page with the heading "reward" and leave a checkbox next to it. Set yourself a rule, if you've managed to complete the urgent or all tasks, get yourself that 'reward' and check it off once you receive it. The reward can be something as simple as a desert or whatever you consider rewarding.

3. A memo that grants you the ability to deepen your understanding on a particular thing

If you heard or saw about something, odds are that you don't really understand it from the getgo. Especially now in the context of the pandemic where the rules set by the government regarding infection control ever changes day by day. Takahashi recommends taking memos on such things (but of course it can be applied to any topic at hand) to deepen your understanding on the matter. So the spread starts with the heading of the desired topic and you write down notes or details of said topic. A bullet point format would be things look cleaner and easier to refer to later in time.

4. Uneasiness/worry memo

When going about our daily lives, we come across many things that induces stress in us, as well as making us uneasy or worried about. In order to sort through our murky thoughts, it's best to get it all down on paper. By making these worries visible to the eye on paper, you're able to gain a 3rd person view about the matter. In doing so, you'll be able to see the ways of resolving the issue or making sense out of it, rationalizing it. You can always use the left side of the spread to list down the issues and the right side the solutions to said issues.

5. Cooping memo

In this spread, you list the number of things or ways to help you detoxify your stress away. By listing them down ahead of time, you save your head the trouble of trying to find such information since you're going through a stressful time. It could be something as simple as getting your favourite drink or going to that special place to even ordering that favourite dish of yours. Whatever works for you, it can be in any scale.

My way of using a small notebook

"Small notebook 1"

Any of these spreads can be implemented into the bullet journal but I'm quite particular and I like having excuses to use more stationeries and hence I got myself a passport-sized Traveler's Notebook.

Index page, with the page number and it's respective heading Unfortunately due to Covid, my living conditions changed for the worse, forcing me to live with a relative who practically takes a dump on my own mental health. And thus, I use writing as means of therapy and a way to sort out my thoughts. So, I use my small notebook as a means of understanding a mental health issue, breaking it down and thinking of ways to solve it. I also use it as a space to break down my monthly finances and stick in reminders for altered budgets cause on one unfortunate month I had to spend more because of emergencies.

I just dump down my troubles and add explanations to it to gain some perspective

I'll give this book a 7.5/10. It has a LOT of sample usages from many users but quite a number of them are common spreads that you'll find in the bullet journal community and thus I personally felt that my money was partially wasted. I quite like the idea of having a notebook small enough to be easily pulled out whenever I'm out and about, so this book opened my mind quite a bit in that regard. I'd recommend this book if you're a fan of Japanese stationery and would like to see how the locals use their notebooks.

I hope this post was of help to you. The book is sadly only available in Japanese. There are ebook versions for sale as well. AmazonJP (Kindle ver available): https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/4768314570/ref=cm_sw_r_tw_dp_937X6D1FFSBBQKB0ZTAN RakutenJP (no Kobo ver available): https://books.rakuten.co.jp/rb/16607928/

[magnoliasinbloom]

Moodboard Challenge

A huge thank you to @outlanderlush​ and @iamnottrisha​ for organizing this. The moodboard belongs to @outlanderlush​, the story belongs to you all. Hope you enjoy.

AO3 / Magnolias In Bloom Master Fanfic List

Mayfair

This was not his sort of scene at all.

James Fraser stepped silently behind his colleagues into the smoky darkness of The Mayfair Club. The boys had insisted, to celebrate their law firm's latest contract. The pulsating beat spilled out onto Dover street and Piccadilly, as the hour grew close to midnight.

He'd heard of this place. He'd never had reason to visit it, though. He found his thrills elsewhere: in the courtroom, in a swimming pool, and a few years ago, in Afghanistan.

He imagined he could feel the scar tissue on his back prickling in apprehension as scantily clad serving staff paraded by, balancing loaded trays. It was Friday night and Mayfair was jumping.

Raucous calls greeted the group, as the manager slapped Dougal’s back and set the men up at a prime table in the middle of the club, from where they could monitor all the action. The décor was lush and elegant, as befitted one of the most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs in London. They were immediately plied with champagne in silver buckets; one word from the manager, and Jamie found the group surrounded by swatches of bare skin. Women danced all around them, lively with the prospect of huge tips.

John Grey, an Englishman in the midst of Scots who did not care overmuch for the attentions of women, sat back and laughed at Charlie Stewart and Dougal MacKenzie’s exploits. For once mindful and respectful of the club’s rules, they kept their hands to themselves, but that did not stem their lewd comments and lascivious stares. All of it made Jamie feel slightly ill.

He took a seat next to John, shaking his head politely at a blonde girl who offered to dance for him. Instead, he ordered a whisky neat, crossed his legs, pulled out his phone, and settled in for a long night.

And then he saw her.

He had thought to drown himself in drink, but instead he found himself foundering in her whisky eyes.

She was taller than most, towering even higher on ten-inch stilettos. Her brown curls were nestled under a black bowler hat; her hair reminded him of the different hues of water in a burn, when it ruffled over the rocks. In his native Scotland, he would call her mo nighean donn, his brown-haired lass.

All of this flashed through his mind in a second. She hadn’t noticed him, of course. Her own gaze was focused on the horizon; a horizon that held a gilt-edged mirror, random patrons, and flashing lights. She leaned casually against the bar, seemingly bored.

Dougal caught Jamie’s gaze and smirked. “Interested, are ye, lad?”

Jamie sat up straight and looked at Dougal. “No, Uncle, ‘tis alright. Just tired.”

“Och, Jamie my boy, there’s no need to be shy. I’ll buy ye a lap dance.” Dougal gestured towards the women at the bar, until he caught someone’s attention. A thin blonde waif sauntered over. Jamie could feel heat crawling up his neck as she approached; it spread to his face until he was sure it matched his red hair.

“Uncle, really, I dinna want—”

“Lass, I’d like ye to take care of my nephew here.” Dougal waved a thick wad of notes while Jamie felt he would die of shame.

The woman glanced at Jamie, who refused to glance up from his lap; her eyes gleamed, and spoke to his uncle.

“Perhaps a private room would be better, if you insist on spending that much.” She batted her eyelashes at Dougal and smiled. She called the manager over and whispered in his ear. He nodded and took the money from Dougal.

“This way please, sir.” The last thing Jamie wanted was a lap dance, but he figured it would be better in a private room; he would simply tell the lass he didn’t want her to perform. She could sit and rest for a while, or go do something else. The dance was paid for anyway, and he’d avoid further comments from Dougal. After that, he would leave, no matter what—he was tired and the thumping music was giving him a headache.

Jamie was led down a short hallway to a secluded area lined with small rooms. They had no doors; instead, satin curtains dropped from the doorframes. There was a low-lying table in front of a plush banquette seat; everything was lit in purple tones and soft electric candelabra. The music volume was not as earsplitting here. Jamie took a seat, defeated. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking deep breaths. He heard the manager greet someone and he opened his eyes again.

It was the brown-haired beauty from the bar.

Jamie swallowed hard. This was not who he was expecting. Now she would think he had requested her for a lap dance! He felt his face burn, hot with embarrassment. He tried not to look at her; she had changed her outfit into some sort of dancer’s leotard—except he’d never seen a dancer wear a leotard that was practically see-through, lacy, and black. The hat was still perched on her head.

“Make sure he’s well taken care of, eh, love? He’s a VIP client, mind. Show the lad ‘ere a good time.” The manager—Stephen, his tag read—touched the woman ever so slightly on the small of her bare back. Jamie could see her visibly shudder; she had a glass face that did nothing to hide her distaste. He felt like punching the living daylights out of Stephen, but before he could react, the woman waved the manager away and drew the satin curtains shut.

“Miss, I’m sorry, I dinna want—no offense, but ye dinna have to dance for me, truly—”

She turned to him with a mysterious smile; it stopped the words coming out of his mouth. She pointed discreetly at a CCTV camera tucked in the corner of the room and shrugged; she had a job to do, regardless of his wishes. Sultry, upbeat music burst out of hidden speakers, different from what was playing in the club. This seemed to be a cue for her; she stepped forward and climbed expertly onto the table.

He hadn’t wanted this, it was true; but to say he didn’t find her beautiful and sensual would be a lie. Jamie watched, helpless, when she began to dance.

As the lass moved, Jamie forgot about everything else. Her outfit hugged every curve, so no further removal of clothing was necessary. The high, black patent-leather heels clicked almost inaudibly on the tabletop. Her hands were everywhere: trailing down her neck, tracing the contour of her breasts, tracking the outline of her hips. When she turned, the shape of her derriere made a perfect inverted heart shape, covered in the lacy material.

The woman swayed in time to the music, occasionally twirling and dropping the lower half of her body, only to rise up in a fluid motion that reminded him of ocean waves. Her whisky eyes never met his, preferring to keep her gaze on her feet. Her scent—sweet jasmine—enveloped him. Jamie was completely mesmerized, almost forgetting his previous objections to this moment.

Almost.  

The vibrating beat changed, now pounding out a staccato bass. Jamie felt an overwhelming sense of dread wash over him, skin tingling. A hole opened up in his chest, sucking the air from his lungs. He could feel his heart sprinting along, trying to pump enough blood to keep him from fainting. The music, pounding like gunfire, triggered the familiar wave of memories from the battlefield six years ago.

James Fraser curled his hands into fists; head between his hands, willing himself to remain conscious, he called out to the dancing woman with beseeching urgency. He thought he was screaming, but it was barely above a whisper.

“Please. Stop.”

- - -

Claire thought he was dying.

She had heard stories about men who suffered heart attacks and collapsed in the club. Fortunately, it had never happened during her performances—until now, it seemed.

She heard him calling in spite of the music. She heard the word stop.

She halted mid-step, arms raised above her head; she watched him for a second, disoriented and sweating rivers, before Claire Beauchamp, nurse, sprang into action. Clambering off the dance table, she landed gracefully on her stilettos. She was at his side, ready to assess and aid the red-headed man before she remembered.

No touching or contact exchange between performers and patrons.

Claire hesitated for a second before recalling Geillis’s trick when she wanted to flout the rules a bit. She pulled the bowler hat off and stepping carefully onto the banquette, draped it over the CCTV camera. It would buy her at least ten minutes, she thought.

The red-headed man was keening softly, rocking back and forth in an attempt to get himself under control. This was some sort of panic attack. His tightly fisted hands trembled as they rested on his knees. Perspiration stood out on his forehead, red curls sticking to his skin. She sat next to him, as close as possible without actually touching him. She wasn’t sure how he might react to her attempts to help.  

“Breathe.” Claire’s voice cut through the music. His back and forth motions slowed, as he registered her words. “Just breathe.” She stretched her hand towards him carefully, so he would be aware of her actions. He gulped for air as she gently loosened his tie and opened a few buttons on his shirt.

“What’s your name?” she asked kindly, her hand on his shoulder as he inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“J-J-James.” Pause. “Jamie.” Another pause. “Fraser.”

“Alright, Jamie. I’d like you to tell me five things you can see around you.” Claire’s hand remained on his shoulder, the touch feeling as forbidden as it actually was.

“Five. Things. I…” Jamie took another deep breath, panic his eyes. “I see the table. The curtains, the lights. The seat. You.” She was surprised at the soft Scottish burr of this tone. His eyes blinked slowly and met hers in a calmer gaze, an intense blue she only remembered having seen in nature. The Cornish coast, perhaps.

“Well done. Tell me four things you can touch.”

Jamie glanced at her hand, and Claire quickly pulled it back.

“I’m sorry, Jamie, we’re not actually supposed to—”

“No, it’s fine, lass.” His voice was still stilted; he was still trying to pull the reins of his control. “It was yer touch that helped, at first.” He smiled shakily. “And yer voice, of course.”

The panic seemed to subside. They sat still for a few minutes, until Jamie broke the silence. “Will it cost yer job? I’d be happy to speak to the manager, if ye like.”

“No, I—don’t worry. I took care of it.” She gestured at the CCTV camera once more, and Jamie chuckled at her improvisation.

“Would it help to talk about it?” Claire asked softly,

“I dinna ken.” Jamie hesitated. “I dinna ken if I… can.”

“Was it something I did? If so, I apologize.”

“No, lass, it wasn’t anything ye did. Nothing ye could ever do. It was the song, it brought back… memories.”

Claire nodded encouragingly. Jamie was quiet for a minute before launching into his story.

It was 2013. Lance Corporal Gavin Hayes playing this song on his phone as they cruised through Kandahar.

The convoy in front of them, exploding into clouds of fire and smoke.

His own tank, turned on its side from the blast of a land mine.

The searing pain on his back, the screams of his fellow soldiers, the endless rat-a-tat of shots ringing in his ears. Cries of “Major Fraser!” all around.

“I graduated from law school and I served in the military. My da died from a stroke while I was on active duty. I flew back for a few days from Afghanistan, to attend the funeral, but I had to return. Then the attack happened.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Jamie. About your father and your men.” Claire wanted to touch him again, squeeze his hand, his shoulder, anything to show her sympathy. Noise from the hallway had her jumping up hastily, climbing back up on the table to place the hat back on her head. She began to dance again, her hips swaying in time to the beat. Jamie—James—fixed his stare on his lap, refusing to look up at her.

Claire felt strangely gratified; she was used to men ogling her, to their vulgar comments, and occasionally, men trying to touch her despite club rules. It inspired her next words.

“I’m a nurse.”

Jamie did look up at that, shock on his face. Claire smiled, continuing her sinuous motions.

“I do have a day job, you know. I applied as a dare, but the money is good. I’m used to being up at night, so I pick up shifts here and there.”

“I didna think—that is to say, I wasna—”

“Men would be surprised to know, that’s all. But I don’t think you’re like most men, anyway.” Claire turned, looking over her shoulder at him. “I’m booked for a full hour. What do you want, Jamie?”

Jamie swallowed visibly. “To talk. For ye to come with me, away from this place. And one more thing.”

“What’s that?” Claire touched the brim of her hat, with a glance at the camera that was always watching. Jamie stood.

“Tell me yer name.”

Claire paused, regarding him seriously. She always gave a fake name appropriate to men’s fantasies. She considered the usual (Eliza, Lizzie, Candy, Clara…). She thought about walking out, taking him with her, just to talk. Responding to instinct, she smiled.

“I’m Claire. Claire Beauchamp.”

“Well then, Claire.” James Fraser reached out, their hands entwining as he helped her off the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet ye.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Claire gripped the lapel of the coat Jamie had draped over her. He buttoned it up to the neck; the sleeves were too long on her so he folded them over her wrists. He gestured for her to go through the curtains first; he followed her down the hall, pushing the emergency exit door out into the cold night.

Jamie and Claire, hand in hand, left The Mayfair Club together and didn’t look back.

- - -

Claire’s first dance Gavin Hayes’ song Claire’s last dance

[shieldofrohan]

I was struck by your idea that there may be a Jonsa political marriage in TWOW or early in ADOS because I could NOT figure out why they made all those parallels between them and Ned/Cat in the show without addressing it. But, your idea worries me because in s7 they compared J/D to Rhaegar/Lyanna, and while I can't imagine Jon being unfaithful, Dany falling in love with Jon was what brought her North. So how does that/the love triangle we saw on the show play out if Jonsa is already married?

Hello @esther-dot! First of all thank you for your ask, people don’t ask me anything usually so your ask made me really happy. 

I wrote a long answer I guess, sorry :

First let me say that: I think we are giving too much credit to show. After S4 the show kind of stopped following the books. I mean look at the S5 Ramsay/Sansa nonsense. D&D made it clear that GRRM gave them some important scenes for them to work with so I see the show as a slide-show of some scenes from books tbh. For example the arrival of the Knights of the Vale was sth you can find the hints of it in the books. Or the trial and death of Baelish by the hand of Sansa. Even the death of Daenerys was foreshadowed in the books. But the plots to get to those scenes were all D&D if you ask me. So they had to fill the gaps and they did it how they wanted. 

At this point I really can’t see a version of Asoiaf without a jonsa plot. Jonsa is the most foreshadowed plot in the books. The hints are starting in the prologue of the AGOT and they keep going in the AFFC and ADWD, and you can even find hints in other books of GRRM. Jonsa foreshadowings are surrounded by marriage and children imagery. So not having a jonsa marriage or kids seems unlikely to me. 

I am looking at the j*nerys foreshadowings and they are all about them being enemies. For example these two chapters that follow each other:

“No. Dany shivered. No, no, oh no.“Are you deaf, fool?” Reznak mo Reznak demanded of the man. “Did you not hear my pronouncement? See my factors on the morrow, and you shall be paid for your sheep.” “Reznak,” Ser Barristan said quietly, “hold your tongue and open your eyes. Those are no sheep bones.” No, Dany thought, those are the bones of a child.”

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

*

Burning dead children had ceased to trouble Jon Snow; live ones were another matter. Two kings to wake the dragon. The father first and then the son, so both die kings. The words had been murmured by one of the queen’s men as Maester Aemon had cleaned his wounds. Jon had tried to dismiss them as his fever talking. Aemon had demurred. “There is power in a king’s blood,” the old maester had warned, “and better men than Stannis have done worse things than this.” The king can be harsh and unforgiving, aye, but a babe still on the breast? Only a monster would give a living child to the flames.

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

***

The next morning Xaro’s galleas was gone, but the “gift” that he had brought her remained behind in Slaver’s Bay. Long red streamers flew from the masts of the thirteen Qartheen galleys, writhing in the wind. And when Daenerys descended to hold court, a messenger from the ships awaited her. He spoke no word but laid at her feet a black satin pillow, upon which rested a single bloodstained glove. “What is this?” Skahaz demanded. “A bloody glove …” “… means war,” said the queen.

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

*

As they did their count, Jon peeled the glove off his left hand and touched the nearest haunch of venison. He could feel his fingers sticking, and when he pulled them back he lost a bit of skin. His fingertips were numb. What did you expect? There’s a mountain of ice above your head, more tons than even Bowen Marsh could count. Even so, the room felt colder than it should.“It is worse than I feared, my lord,” Marsh announced when he was done. He sounded gloomier than Dolorous Edd.Jon had just been thinking that all the meat in the world surrounded them. You know nothing, Jon Snow. “How so? This seems a deal of food to me.”

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

***

Dizzy, Dany closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she glimpsed the Meereenese beneath her through a haze of tears and dust, pouring up the steps and out into the streets.The lash was still in her hand. She flicked it against Drogon’s neck and cried, “Higher!” Her other hand clutched at his scales, her fingers scrabbling for purchase. Drogon’s wide black wings beat the air. Dany could feel the heat of him between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. Yes, she thought, yes, now, now, do it, do it, take me, take me, FLY!”

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

*

Jon clasped the offered hand. The words of his oath rang through his head. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men.

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

***

I really try to see some romantic hints in those but I can’t find them. So why did D&D choose to do j*nerys instead of jonsa? Let’s face it: Their main audience are locals and Dany lovers. People were waiting them to bang... (ew). And when he was asked about Grrm’s intentions about Jon and Dany, Alan Taylor (director) said that he can’t tell what Grrm said because it is a S8 twist. So even the most j*nerys shipper director couldn’t confirm that j*nerys was sth Grrm told them about. What Grrm told them was a S8 twist, which turned out to be Jon killing Daenerys. I bet they chose the route of a romance instead of them being enemies (Dance of Dragons 2.0 ?!?!?!) so they could shock the audience with the final twist (a poor choice i must say).

So what I am trying to say is that: j*nerys is probably not a book thing. Or at least it can only be one sided in the books. Look at the S7-8 Jon Snow.. they made him so OOC to be in love with Dany... I am sure that Book!Jon won’t be in love with Dany. To be fair, I even can’t see Jon in Dragonstone or etc. Traveling during a White Walker threat is not a good idea. He won’t have such a time to go to DS and fall in love with someone like Dany. Dany is a combination of Cersei, Joffrey, Stannis, Selyse and Melisandre... Can you imagine Jon falling for those? No I don’t think so. I mean there is even dragon glass in Skagos... why would he bother to go DS? And we know that Dragons don’t like North and I can’t image using the fire threat to beat the ice threat... So her dragons won’t be the main forces against the Others. 

I tried to explain why Show!J*nerys was so forced to please the audience and how it was a fan service plot. But still an one-sided j*nerys can happen in the books. There are more foreshowings for this tbh. I am imaging an Aerys-Joanna-Tywin kind of triangle in the books. 

I mean look at this: (I have examined the Jon chapters that follow Dany ones in the ADWD and there were some interesting things. Maybe i’ll write a meta about them one day but for now let’s focus on one hint that I found interesting)

“I want to know. I never knew my father. I want to know everything about him. The good and … the rest.” “As you command.” The white knight chose his words with care. “Prince Aerys … as a youth, he was taken with a certain lady of Casterly Rock, a cousin of Tywin Lannister. When she and Tywin wed, your father drank too much wine at the wedding feast and was heard to say that it was a great pity that the lord’s right to the first night had been abolished. A drunken jape, no more, but Tywin Lannister was not a man to forget such words, or the … the liberties your father took during the bedding.” His face reddened. “I have said too much, Your Grace. I—”

[...]

How beautiful, the queen tried to tell herself, but inside her was some foolish little girl who could not help but look about for Daario. If he loved you, he would come and carry you off at swordpoint, as Rhaegar carried off his northern girl, the girl in her insisted, but the queen knew that was folly.

[A Dance with Dragons; Daenerys]

This is Daenerys’ wedding chapter and she learns about her father’s jealousy about Tywin and Joanna’s marriage. 

And bonus: she also wishes that Daario to take her away like Rhaegar did with his Stark lady. So in her wedding chapter she mentions the love between a Targaryen prince and a Stark lady. 

But she also knows that no one is coming for her. 

And Jon chapter follows this chapter. And he talks about: his dislike for Selyse and Melisandre, kinslaying, daggers in dark, the grey girl. So he won’t like Daenerys either, kinslaying is an important hint (both for Dany-Viserys and Jon-Daenerys) and I bet that Grey Girl is Sansa. 

Now we know that Dany is Aerys 2.0 with dragons and she will end what her father has started by burning down KL. So in this triangle Dany is Aerys. 

And who are Joanna and Tywin? 

The first J+T pair she’ll meet will be Aegon and Arianna probably. They are cousins too and Aegon chose not to be just a consort to his aunt by marrying her, so he’ll probably choose Arianne to gain Dorne’s support. I always consider Aegon (fake or not) and Arianne as a warning for Daenerys about Jonsa. Aegon has parallels with Sansa and Jon (secret identity with different hair color and secret Targ parentage etc). And Arianne has parallels with Sansa (The girl in the tower trope). So those two will be a test for Daenerys before she meets with Jon and Sansa. But her main test will be with Jonsa.

Jonsa fit into Joanna/Tywin pair more. They are cousins and they grew up together and after them being reunited they will be very important for each other. 

And let’s not forget about the fact that Tywin was the Hand of Aerys and he betrayed him and his son Jaime killed Aerys in the throne room... We are all aware of the parallels between Jaime and Jon already. But Jon was also her adviser and she wanted to rule the 7K with him. But in the end he betrayed her. I believe that Jon’s Ygritte arc might be useful for him to lure Dany into some false trust. But him sleeping with her and loving her and later lose her in his arms sounds like a cheap copy of Ygritte/Jon plot and it makes no sense. 

I think Dany will be taken with him and he’ll use this but it doesn’t mean that they will be lovers. Because it seems like Grrm is going to use RLJ in Jon’s romantic life (like he planned in the original/first outline with Jon-Arya romance). And RLJ has no effect on j*nerys. They can still f*ck and marry... 

I mean Grrm even put an uncle-niece marriage (Jonnel-Sansa Stark!!) in the Stark family tree to show that Starks have no problem with marrying with their uncles/aunts etc. Grrm only considers the marriages between siblings and parent-children as incest. So j*nerys is not a doomed love. But for jonsa; RLJ makes everything smooth. Therefore RLJ must be used in jonsa plot.

So Dany is the Aerys of the triangle and no Targaryen prince will come for her because they are busy with their Stark ladies. (Rhaegar- Lyanna and also maybe Jacaerys and Sara Snow?) 

To explain the early Jonsa political marriage, I must say that I was inspired by the Grand Northern Conspiracy. According to this theory, Howland Reed is the keeper of Robb’s Will about Jon and he is also the one who knows about RLJ. 

It does not go north with Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont, who expressly carry false letters, and is often feared lost at the Twins in the chaos following the Red Wedding. Another possibility, however, is that the document was secreted away in Hag’s Mire and has now been retrieved by Lady Stoneheart. Who in turn, for a real kicker of an ironic twist, delivers the suspected proof of Jon’s kingship to Greywater Watch for safekeeping, care of Howland Reed, who then knows more of the crowns Jon’s entitled to than any other man living in the world of ASOIAF.

https://zincpiccalilli.tumblr.com/post/52748381148

Let’s accept this theory and say that Howland has the Will. Without his proof other lords can’t just announce Jon as the KITN. I believe that Howland will be present at Winterfell to show the Will. But Howland was also a friend of Ned Stark. And he is loyal to House Stark. He kept RLJ as secret for years to protect the Starks and Jon from Robert’s wrath. But Robert is dead and he has no reason to keep this secret anymore. And I can’t imagine him sitting quietly while other lords declare Jon as the King while a true born Stark (Sansa) is sitting right there. He wouldn’t betray Ned’s memory like that. So he’ll spill the tea with RLJ too. And after that maybe Sansa will finally have some agency for her choice of husband. So them together will be the one answer of North’s all wishes. 

And let’s not forget that GRRM said he knows which characters will end up married. But in the show there was no marriage. So I am still waiting a marriage. 

And even with an early Jonsa marriage, Jon and Dany might still meet. Imagine S7 with a married Jonsa. Jon leaves Sansa to fight a battle. It would be a great parallel with NedCat. Ned left Cat while she was pregnant to go to war. And maybe there will be rumors about Jon and Dragon Queen just like how Ned betrayed Cat. But like Ned, Jon would be loyal to Sansa and North too in truth. 

Maybe Jon will gain Dany’s trust and help her against Aegon. And return she’ll accept to help North. But in the end I don’t think that Dany will come/or stay in North. Also in the Jon chapter that comes after Dany one, Jon was warned against Dragons:

“Salladhor Saan?” “The Lysene pirate? Some say he has returned to his old haunts, this is so. And Lord Redwyne’s war fleet creeps through the Broken Arm as well. On its way home, no doubt. But these men and their ships are well-known to us. No, these other sails … from farther east, perhaps … one hears queer talk of dragons.” “Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit.” “My lord jests. You will forgive me if I do not laugh. We Braavosi are descended from those who fled Valyria and the wroth of its dragonlords. We do not jape of dragons.” No, I suppose not. “My apologies, Lord Tycho.”

[A Dance with Dragons; Jon]

Maybe Dany will want sth more from Jon and will be jealous of Jon and Sansa just like her father was jealous of Tywin and Joanna. Maybe Jon will betray her in most unexpected time just like Tywin betrayed Aerys. 

Btw I am still waiting for a battle between Daenerys and Jon in Trident after he betrayed Dany. (You know Dany dreamed about a fighting against an usurper in ice armor in Trident... Jon will be the Usurper because he’ll be the King of North and Dany will see North as a part of her Kingdom.)

So my timeline would be like this:

- Jon and Sansa reunite and take North back

- The Will and RLJ happen and they unite their claims by marriage

- A dance between Aegon and Daenerys and she loses a dragon

- Jon gains her trust only to use her and pacify her to protect the North during the Dance

- Him refusing the bend the knee and them becoming enemies

- Daenerys loses one of her dragons

- Daenerys and Euron being a chaotic duo for Westeros

- Daenerys burns down KL and marches to North for revenge

- North (aka Jon) vs Daenerys in Trident

- Daenerys dies and Drogon gets hurt

- Jon refusing the throne so he can go back to North (the Duncan of Dragonflies jumped out)

- Bran becomes King

- Jon returns North to fight against the Others etc. (I refuse believe that he’ll be punished and sent back to Wall? Grrm literally has to kill him to free him from Night’s Watch so I don’t see him returning there)

- Epiloge. 

***

Well I talked too much about too many things but I hope my answer was not such a bullsh*t :) 

Thanks again for the ask. Let me know your thoughts. 

[el-pintor]

Thoughts about the Christmas special

This will be a long, long, long post...

First, I write about ZhanYi and then about Tianshan.

ZhanYi:

Jian Yi's comment about his strength:

— Jian Yi mentions that he is so strong that he could pull trees out. This is pretty interesting information. Because this could indicate the time during the kidnapping, depending on how seriously you can interpret the statements. Did he continue to train or drill? Is it the result of training with He Cheng?

- In addition, this drunk talking could also refer to earlier chapters. Jian Yi has a desire to become stronger because he felt helpless against Mo. Incidentally, it is the first appearance of Mo.

The apartment:

— Whose apartment is this? Probably Zhen Xis, since Jian Yi is only at Xi's apartment in the future chapters. In contrast to earlier insights, the apartment is also pretty tidy.

– However, the interior differs massively from the previous chapters. I don't expect Zhen Xi and Jian Yi to be living together at this point. Old Xian just may not have used the previous references.

— So the connection between the two seems to be as strong as ever since Xi possibly brings him home to his flat instead to Jian Yi's.

- And another proof of how much Xi's character has changed. Because in the beginning, he didn't want anything more than kicking out Yi as soon as he showed up.

- He also apparently abandoned the violent nature. Instead of beating him up, he sits down on the couch with him in an embrace and falls asleep. He doesn't even take off his jacket, but lets Jian Yi willingly hug him.

- Somehow cute. Nevertheless, I hope that he will soon no longer keep Jian Yi friendzoned and return his feelings.

- Just as home furnishings have changed, Zheng Xi's character has changed.

— But maybe that's Jian Yi's apartment after all. No one knows about his living condition.

- Does he live alone? Or with his mother? Maybe he's back in He Cheng's care? Does Zheng Xi even know Jian Yi's address?

I hope we can find out more soon.

Tianshan

I think there are a lot of inconsistencies and you don't really get their behavior.

First of all a few trivial comments.

Rings:

- He Tian wears the ring he took himself as a gift. Coincidentally, it also fits like a glove. Either it would be too big for Mo anyway, or you can adjust the ring.

- In the first panel, it seems that Mo is also wearing a ring.

He Tian flirting:

- He Tian goes straight to the attack and leaves no unnecessary time and doubts about his intentions: After flirting, he just takes off his jacket and throws himself and Mo on the bed.

- He is hopelessly in love and love everything about Mo.

- That Mo has a newfound interest on studying turns he even more on.

- I think despite the fact that the room is too small for him, he will develop a secret preference for the bed. Because it's narrow and there is no place to escape and to keep a certain distance. So perfectly made for  cuddling and sticking close together.

The apartment, Room, whatever you can call it:

- I immediately noticed the rule with books (if they were books).

- The guitar on his bed plus other books.

- At first I thought that the "apartment" consists of only one room, but the kitchen and at least the bathroom are missing.

- it's quite empty and reminds of He Tian's empty apartment.

- Still, it's pretty run down and seems so cold. I hope Mo doesn't freeze.

Living condition:

- The question, of course, would be why Mo lives under this condition, although he would have it better in his mother's old apartment.

- Did he want to become independent as quickly as possible and therefore moved out so as not to further burden his mother?

- However, I hardly think that his mother would have been satisfied with the condition of the apartment, because the condition is worrying. I don't think he invites his mother over to his house.

-I don't know if that is standard in China when you don't have money. In addition, 19 is still quite young. Many people still live with their parents at this age.

- Did something happen to the mother? Hopefully not.

But maybe Mo is just rebellious and proud that he could afford something of his own.

Indications of Mos' current activity.

- As I said, I immediately noticed the rule with books (if they were books). Which of course is totally untypical for Mo, since he was never interested in books and learning.

- Are these cook and music books?

- Can someone tell me what's written on this book?

- The book in He Tian's hand has an unusual book form. So I suspect that this is a music book with notes or tabs. It seems to be at least a book for studying.

- So does Mo study anything with music and do his part-time jobs to finance it?

- Does he study anything else?

- Does he go to university at all?

- Or does he really earn his money only with part-time jobs? Obviously he won't make much money with it, so they could only be an interim solution if Mo didn't want to keep this lifestyle for life.

- For the university in China you need a lot of money, which you couldn't pay on your own. But there is the possibility of scholarships (I just assume that there is also something like that in China). Maybe he got a music scholarship?

- Mo doesn't seem to have many things. Of course, the books and the guitar are striking.

The guitar

- At first glance, the guitar is reminiscent of He Tian's guitar, which he would like to give to Mo.

- If you take a closer look, they are identical in shape and color, but they are two completely different guitars.

- He Tian's guitar is an acoustic (or concert) guitar and Mo's is an electric guitar.

- Could it be a little mistake from Old Xian?

- Perhaps this is also a later gift from He Tian after Mo learned to play guitar with the acoustic guitar and get advanced. A lot of people start with an acoustic guitar before playing electric guitar.

- Maybe the guitar is from the same serial production.

- Maybe He Tian owns the acoustic guitar and buys an electric guitar for Mo from the same series after Mo's interest for learning guitar has been completely awakened.

- By the way, you need a guitar amplifier for full fun with an electric guitar. I didn't see it in his room.

- Unless this could be an amp. Does anyone know what this thing could be? For me this could be organizers.

- It's s also extremely inconvenient in an apartment to turn it up fully. (Do more people actually live there? The apartment looks more like an old rehearsal room or a garage. My rehearsal room looked something like this, that's why the associations).

- You can also play the electric guitar on headphones, but that's pretty impractical because of the sound (it differs, if you use headphones ir not) and you still need an amp.

- By the way, music it's a costly pleasure. So, it is all the more interesting what exactly Mo does and how he finances everything.

- But I think those are little things that Old Xian probably doesn't think about (something that you easily can forget) .

- I wonder if Mo is in a band. Maybe with Zhen Xi together.

So now to the most complicated point:

Hey Tian, ​​his disappearance and the relationship with Mo.

- One learns that He Tian was not in China for a while.

Many questions arise from this:

- When was he gone?

- How long was he gone?

- Has he been away for a long period of time or is it a coming and going? A lot of it is pretty unclear, so you could guess both.

- The fact that He Tian was away for a long time speaks for the fact that he has never been to Mo's apartment. Has Mo just recently moved there?

- What is also new for him is that Mo reads books or even studies. You should actually know that if you were in regular contact. So is this a recent Mo hobby? That is rather unlikely. So how much did they really have to do with each other in the 4 years?

— However, there are some arguments against staying longer:

- He Tian knows where Mo works. If He Tian had been away for years, how would he know where Mo works? From Jian Yi or Zahn Xi? Maybe from Mo himself? Mo would most likely not give it away. So He Tian should at least stop by for visits.

- The second thing that speaks against it, is that Mo knows where He Tian lives. He Tian probably didn't change his apartment, but could have been if you weren't in the country for a long period of time. At least that doesn't indicate radio silence.

The relationship with Mo:

- After the chapters and all the hints, it was thought that the penny had finally fallen between the two, but no.

- Their relationship to each other has not really changed.

- Mo is still dismissive to He Tian.

There are several reasons about this matter:

— 1. Mo feels hurt and probably betrayed too.

- He Tian asked Mo in middle school not to abandom him. Now HE was the one who left and left Mo behind. Depending on the point in time at which this occurred, it is logical to first react in a negative manner.

— Nevertheless, He Tian seems to be a part of Mo's life, which he does not really want to give up and maybe also gives evidence that he might misses him.

The following aspect indicate

- He lit a cigarette, reminiscent of He Tian.

- He is still wearing his earrings.

- In addition, the design of his electric guitar is similar to He Tian's.

— 2. Mo couldn't build a closer bond with He Tian because He Tian left the country right after middle school.

- How can you build a relationship if you hardly see or not see each other?

- Mo has problems with trust. So I can imagine, that this could be extremely bitter for him and he is angry. Especially if he had open up to He Tian and then his gone.

— 3. Mo is just too stubborn to admit his feelings and get involved with He Tian and is a tsundere, so he have to act this way.

- Definition of a tsundere: "A tsundere is a character, most often female and in anime, who switches from being tough and cold towards a love interest into being soft and sweet"

- Well, I'm not so keen on these whole tsundere explanations. Of course his character is like a tsundere but it would be to simple to explain his character so one sided.

- Even tsundere characters can make progress and that's what I missing. The reationship between those two is going back and forth mostly two steps back and one forth. It's like they are stuck in this, just like ZhanYi are stuck in their relationship. But in this matter you know that Jian was gone for three years. Still I hoped Zhan Xi would finally admit his feelings, but he rather go with the safety zone. The case of Tianshan is way more complicated: You don't know what happened between them in these years. But He Tian seems to be in love more than ever and Mo seems to that he still hasn't figured out his feelings and doesn’t give the attention that He Tian wants. Mo is 18 or 19, not 15 anymore and I wish he would act more mature. But on the other hand, He Tian is really pushy again and is testing his limits. It's understandable that Mo acts irritated.

- So I think they are still don't there where you can call this a mutual relationship.

- They will eventually in the future, but this will take a lot more time obviously and they have a long road ahead.

Of course there is progress:

- Mo seems to have grown used to He Tian's approach.

- He is less aggressive, can even be touched, and he doesn't immediately panic. In the other special he even voluntarily shares a room with He Tian.

- On the other hand, He Tian seems to have become more courageous, so you thought, they really started out with a physical relationship.

- He gives away condoms, hugs him profusely, and tries to get to his butt (other special).

- Maybe they really did have an on-off thing.

- Old Xian indicated that He Tian was allowed to stay the night. So Mo doesn't throw him out. The only question is whether he is allowed to sleep in bed or whether the floor has to suffice.

- So yeah, for me this is really confusing.

Other abnormalities:

- Where's the dog?

- Did Xi stays true to the music? So far there has not been a hint of a musical instrument at his flat.

- What about Yi? Does he continue to play the guitar?

- And He Tian?

- When and why did Mo get his second piercing?

- He Tian doesn't seem to wear the chain with ring. Maybe he get it later?

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Jedi of the Dune Sea pt 8

He settles down overnight in the desert, building a small fire and feeding the bantha he’d been riding, and then himself. 

The night is clear, thankfully, the stars littler the sky above him and the cool night wind dries the sweat of the day. 

Anakin Skywalker pulls his robes closer and takes a breath. “You know, Bertha,” he says, having named his bantha companion when he’d first bought her in Mos Espa. “I am proud to be a Jedi. But it’s a confusing identity to have some days.” 

He pauses as he takes a bite from his ration bar. “Most days.” He settles back, gazing at the fire. 

“It’s only as confusing as you make it, Ani.” 

He narrows his eyes at the new voice, looking up from the fire to find a kind-faced man settled on the other side of it, his Jedi robes, long hair and beard glow an otherworldly blue. 

“Master Qui-Gon?” Anakin asks, sitting up quickly. 

“Hello, Ani. It’s been a long time.” 

“Yes. How are you-” 

Qui-Gon waves a hand and chuckles. “An explanation for another time. I am here to talk about you. You’ve just come from the Temple of the Dune Sea.” 

Anakin nods. “I have. It was...enlightening. And confusing. All at once. I’m still not certain of my path. Every ghost and vision told me that I already know. That it’s inside me, but I just don’t feel certain.” 

“Hm,” Qui-Gon muses with a nod. “Our path is not always littered with brightly lit signs. Sometimes, we have to listen hard, and look even harder for the right way.”

“What do you think I should do?” Anakin asks. 

“Oh, it hardly matters what I think,” Qui-Gon chuckles kindly. “I’m dead, after all.” He pauses and gazes at Anakin gently. “But since you asked, what I think...is that you made the choice to leave a life of slavery to be become a Jedi. You were young, and you didn’t know that the path of the Jedi would be just as difficult, if not more so in different ways. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t predict just how stifling it would be for you; that instead of being physically enslaved, your mind and heart would be instead.” 

Anakin looks down, poking at the fire with a small stick he’d found. “You think I should leave the Order.” 

“No,” Qui-Gon says softly. “I think you should be the Jedi you want to be, whatever that may look like. And you’re not the first person I’ve said that to.” 

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin grins just a little. 

Qui-Gon chuckles again. “Yes. Obi-Wan. Your former master has spent his life striving to be everything the Council wants him to be, and he encouraged you to do the same, without understanding that for some people, it just isn’t possible. It doesn’t work. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

Anakin looks up at him again. “Sometimes it feels like they act like it’s a sin. Not to be what they think a Jedi is.” 

“A Jedi is...can be... so many things,” Qui-Gon tells him. “A Jedi who is not true to himself, however...often turns to the Dark Side.” 

Anakin swallows hard, closing his eyes. “Palpetine wanted that for me. Has been grooming me for a decade to be a Sith. To stand by his side.” 

“There is a reason that Sith take new names. It is because they become something that they never were. And yet, here you are,” Qui-Gon smiles. “In your dusty brown Jedi robes, wandering around Tatooine, to find out who you really are. Who you are meant to be. If that isn’t Jedi-like behavior, I don’t know what is.”

“Before all of this came to light, I always thought I knew who I was.” 

“Sometimes it’s nice to be proven wrong,” Qui-Gon comments. “To be right about everything is to be deeply bored.” 

Anakin has to laugh a little at that.

“You are a Jedi, Ani,” Qui-Gon tells him. “You’re just not the Jedi everyone wants you to be. Once you own that, you will be much happier. You may never be invited onto the Council, and they may take their sweet time in making you Master, but you will be you. And that is the most important thing. That is enough, and it always has been. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” 

He stays quiet, his eyes trained back onto the fire, thinking of everything he’s been through in this month. Wandering around Tatooine, searching for and finally finding the Temple. Shown so many things; so many possibilities. 

“What freedom looks like is up to me,” Anakin says quietly. 

“Indeed,” Qui-Gon agrees. “And it may not look the same for the other people in your life.” 

Anakin stares at him, taking in his serene face. “Were you happy, Master? When you were alive?” 

“Very much so,” Qui-Gon tells him. “I am saddened that I died before completing Obi-Wan’s training; before starting yours. But my life was a happy one. I made it that way.” 

“And if my well-being requires me to break the code and disappoint the Council…to leave behind a few of the harsher rules…?” 

“Then the code and the Council be damned,” Qui-Gon says simply. “Force knows I didn’t follow it to the letter, and I was the happiest Jedi I knew.” 

Anakin laughs a little again. 

Qui-Gon smiles at him again; that same reassuring, kind smile that Anakin remembers for all those years ago.

“Be well, Ani,” the other Jedi says. “We will meet again one day.” 

“Thank you, Master,” Anakin tells him, watching him as the older man fades, letting himself shed a couple of tears for his grand-Master. “Thank you.”

[creative-type]

wake from death (and return to life) chapter ii

AO3 Previous Chapter AN: Huge shout out to @codedredalert for doing art for this chapter. We Kuina stans gotta stick together, and she did a fantastic job. Please consider giving her a commission, I promise it’ll be money well spent

Kuina walked into Ipponmatsu’s shop sopping wet and chilled to her very bones. At the entranceway she shook herself like a dog, spraying drops of water all over the store. It was a childlike indulgence, something she never would have considered just that morning. But at that moment nothing seemed to matter. Not the shop, not her manners, nothing.

She heard Ipponmatsu before she saw him hurl a towel in her direction. Kuina caught it one handed, keeping the other clenched tightly around her sword. It was still nameless after all these years. It didn’t seem right to bestow it with such an honor when her birthright was still at Shimotsuki Village.  

Except Wado wasn’t with her father. Zoro wore it at his waist, because... why? Had he taken it? Had Father given it to him?

Kuina dried her face and hair before turning to face Ipponmatsu properly. The commotion had drawn his wife from the storeroom, Ipponume standing by his side with an arm wrapped protectively around his waist. Twin looks of concern broke through Kuina’s distracted thoughts. She blinked once. Twice.

“I’m leaving.”

What would have been a grand pronouncement moments ago came out strained and creaking. She was leaving the people she’d come to love as family, possibly forever. Kuina’s vision went fuzzy, and even though she’d just dried her face she could still feel the wetness on her cheeks.

Kuina wiped them with the back of her hand. She hated crying, had ever since she was a little girl.

“Kuina, what’s going on?” Ipponmatsu said. “I saw the pirates in the square, and then you come running in here like the devil himself was on your heels before running back out again! They’re saying on the den-den mushi that Smoker’s put the whole city on lockdown!”

Smoker . Somehow, Kuina had forgotten about him. She put her mask on hurriedly, not that it’d do much good now that Tashigi knew who she was. “Sorry, I don’t have time to explain.”

Not waiting for their reply she hurried to her room and began shoving clothes into a pack as fast as she could. It was the same one her father had sent her with years ago. The material was faded and worn, but it suited her, sturdy enough to fit her needs without drawing attention to itself.

“You can’t leave now!” Ipponume exclaimed. “Even without Smoker’s crackdown there’s not a ship on the island that’ll sail in this kind of weather!”

“I’ll worry about that later.” Kuina dug her small bundle of savings out from under her mattress. She’d offered to hand over her earnings as a bounty hunter for rent, but neither Ipponmatsu nor his wife ever allowed it. In exchange, Kuina didn’t let them pay her for the work she did for the store. She supposed it more or less balanced out in the end, except she owed them so much more than money. Kuina had to blink back more tears, which had been joined by an uncomfortable tightness in her throat.

“If anyone asks, you never saw me,” she said, willing her voice not to waver. “You didn’t know about my mask, and I was just some village kid you picked up on a whim. I’m...I’m sorry if I get you into trouble.”

Kuina got back to her feet, and without looking at either Ipponmatsu or Ipponume bowed deeply at the waist, deeper than she ever had for anyone she didn’t call Father. “I know words alone cannot convey the gratitude I owe you, but thank you. Thank you for opening your door to me that night.”

Still bowed, Kuina heard Ipponmatsu turn sharply on his heel and march out of her room. Surprised and hurt, she rose jerkily and stilted. Even if there was anything else to say, Kuina didn’t trust herself to speak. Turning her back so she didn’t have to see Ipponume’s reaction, Kuina resumed her packing, willing her facial features into a stoic expression more befitting of a swordsman.  

Suddenly, her nose was assailed with the smell of Ipponume’s cooking. Kuina stiffened at the sound of Ipponmatsu’s wooden geta clacking softly against the hardwood floors. Against her better judgement she turned to see Ipponmatsu tying a plastic sack around a box of bento. He handed it over to Kuina, an eyebrow raised. “I suppose this is about that green-haired swordsman?”

"Zoro? You met him?”

“Met him?” Ipponmatsu snorted. “Girl, I gave him two swords free of charge.”

Kuina accepted the offered bento, too shocked to say anything else.

“He’s the second person I ever met whose luck matched Sandai Kitetsu’s curse.” A faraway, awed look came over him. “Bet an arm on it, in fact.”

“You gave him Yubashiri, too,” Kuina said, remembering the other sword she’d seen hanging at his waist. She’d been too focused on Wado to even wonder about it. She looked up at Ipponmatsu’s face, searching. “Why?”

It wasn’t because of any connection to Kuina. She’d made a point not to talk about her past before Loguetown, preferring to make as fresh a start as possible. It was easier, in some ways, not to reminisce.

“Because I saw something in him. He’s the real deal, a true swordsman.”

“Oh, honey, please,” Ipponume said. “What does this have to do about—”

“And I see that same look in you, Kuina,” Ipponmatsu interrupted forcibly. He crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his chin, looking like a rooster that had just finished his morning preen. Kuina knew him well enough to know when he was bluffing, and to her astonishment...he wasn’t.

“We knew we couldn’t keep you here forever,” he continued. “A cage as small as this isn’t near enough for you to spread your wings. I look forward to seeing how high you can go.”

Ipponmatsu lifted the blue oni mask from Kuina’s face, pinching her cheek like he used to when she was young, knowing how much it annoyed her. He offered a grin that couldn’t quite hide the extra shine in his eyes.

“Knock ‘em dead, kid.”

Kuina managed a wobbly smile of her own. “The marines will be here any second. Remember, you had no idea. About any of this!”

She tried to bow again, but with the single most derisive snort Kuina had ever heard in her life, Ipponume wrapped her in a hug strong enough to crush a bear. “I have no idea what’s gotten into you all. Swordsmen .”

But Kuina heard the pride in her voice, and she fixed it into her mind, hoping to remember it forever. Pausing only to grab an oiled cloak, Kuina plunged herself back into the streets of Loguetown for the final time.

If there was one ship stupid enough to leave port in the middle of a raging storm against the orders of Captain Smoker, it was Zoro’s. Kuina didn’t hold out any hope that he would still be on the island by the time she made it back to the coast, and even if it did, her pride rankled at the idea of riding his coattails to the Grand Line. She’d always imagined them setting out together. As equals . But that was before knowing that he’d spent the better part of a decade thinking she was dead, before learning he’d become a pirate, and before Kuina threw away nine years of secrecy to attack one of the few marines who knew who she really was.

So much had changed since just that morning, and in it all Zoro had found his way. Now it was up to Kuina to find hers.

It was a sentiment that was much easier said than done. Kuina stayed close to the alleys and side streets she knew like the back of her hand, having to duck back into the shadows more than once as clusters of marines ran down the rainy streets. The usual crowds had vanished, and despite the rain and the thunder, the absence of the human element made Loguetown feel like a ghost town.

Kuina guessed by the direction the marines were running that they were still busy at the square. Buggy the Clown had snuck an incredible amount of pirates into the city under Smoker’s very nose, and that wasn’t something he would take lightly.

With their paint and their ruffles, Buggy’s troupe stuck out like a sore thumb, and at the moment, so did she. For the first time Kuina wasn’t sure whether or not to wear her mask. It didn’t seem right to be seen with her sword without it. The two had always gone hand in hand, the familiar weight on her face a comfort that protected her more than any shield. Without the demon mask Kuina felt a little like she was going out to battle naked; there was no rule saying she couldn’t fight without it, but she had absolutely no desire to do so.

If she stuck to the shadows the dark of the storm should be enough to keep her hidden. All Kuina had to do was make it to the docks and stow away on a ship, and if not stow away use her reputation as the Demon of Loguetown to get what she wanted, hopefully before the marines put out a warrant for her arrest.

It was a risk. The mask was conspicuous, and in the past Kuina had always gone out with her chest bound. She knew—she knew —that everyone and their dog assumed the Demon was a man. In a pinch she might be able to bully her way onto a ship, the shapeless silhouette of her cloak enough to disguise her gender, but she didn’t feel confident enough in her acting ability to pretend to be a man for however long it took to reach the Grand Line. Without the duplicity she could easily see a ship’s captain brushing her aside as an imposter or kicking up a fuss. Or both, if she was especially unlucky.

A crack of thunder broke through her jumbled thoughts, and Kuina bit back a curse. Time . She was running out of time, each wasted second dwindling her already-limited options . There was no point trying to figure out what would happen out at sea if she couldn’t get off the damn island.

Father always said a true swordsman would never allow themselves to be swayed by emotion or sentimentality, and logic dictated that stowing away was the safest option, assuming she could find a ship setting sail at all. And stowing away meant stealth, and stealth meant not walking around dressed up as one of Loguetown’s most feared bounty hunters.

Gritting her teeth, Kuina slid the mask off her face and stuffed it into her pack, irritation burying like ants under her skin. Now the only thing conspicuous about her was her sword, and that wasn’t so easily hidden even within the bulky confines of her cloak. A thousand warnings echoed in her mind in a voice that sounded suspiciously like her father’s.

She stuffed that down as well and resumed her journey. With Captain Smoker effectively shutting the city down, there was a chance it could be days before she could actually make her escape. Smoker’s control over Loguetown was too tight for anything to escape his grasp, his men too well trained to let anybody slip through once they set up a perimeter.

Unless, of course, she hitched her ride to freedom someplace other than Loguetown.

Kuina came to an abrupt halt, suppressing the urge to smack herself upside the head for not thinking of it sooner. There was a cove just outside the city favored by pirates, smugglers, and merchants too cheap to pay the docking fee in town. Every couple months Smoker and his men went on expeditions to clear the place out, but as it turned out scum was an infinitely renewable resource, and the criminal population that called Canary Cove home always came back twice as strong as before.

Kuina herself had ventured to the cove on occasion to collect bounties. A shantytown sprung up from the mire, grown around every sort of illicit trade like a tumor. And like a tumor, it sucked life and resources from Loguetown proper. Cleverly nestled at the base of a shallow cliff, it was close enough to Loguetown for easy access, but almost impossible to find unless you knew what you were looking for. Any ships that dropped anchor were hidden from view by the sheltering arms of the cove.

She would be safe from the marines, but it would be a trick and a half to convince someone to let her aboard one of their ships, let alone to get to the Grand Line. The people who lived at Canary Cove were damnably insular, with lookouts posted every hour of every day and a dozen bolt holes hidden in the cliffside for people to scatter through once an alarm was sounded. Kuina always hated when a hunt took her here. For every trick and secret she discovered it seemed like there were a dozen she didn’t know about, and anyone found ratting out an accepted member of the community would quickly find themselves with a knife in the back for their troubles.

An exception was made for those who could afford it, the exchange of money for goods and services a universal language understood by both lawmen and the lawless.  Maybe she wouldn’t need to stow away at all. With enough coin in the right hands Kuina could buy her way into the Grand Line.

That was an awful lot of maybes , but she was at the point where a bad plan was better than no plan at all. Kuina was confident about her ability to go up against any of Smoker’s men, but his Devil Fruit was another story entirely. It was best to avoid any chance of a confrontation, and to that end Canary Cove was her best bet.

By the time Kuina snuck out of the city and made it to the bluffs, the sky had faded from dark grey to pitch, starless black. Wind howled, and without anything to cut its teeth, Kuina bore the full brunt of the storm’s ire. Guided by sporadic flashes of lightning and the unpleasant memory of previous excursions, she carefully picked her way down the rocky slope. There wasn’t a proper trail as much as a zigzagging path that looked like it had been intended for a group of particularly athletic goats. The footing was loose and slick, and Kuina was forced to use her katana like a walking stick just to keep from tumbling into the sea below.  

About halfway down Kuina slipped on a patch of crumbling stone. Her feet slid from under her, jagged edges of limestone tearing holes in her cloak. She didn’t have time to scream as she plummeted down…

down…

down…

Reflex alone made her keep her hold on her katana, and when a jutting edge of rock sent Kuina airborne she was able to regather her senses enough to twist her body, stabbing her blade into the cliffside and praying she could hold on long enough to arrest her momentum even as her shoulder threatened to wrench out of socket. She slammed back against the cliff, stars flashing across her vision brighter than lightning, but somehow Kuina was able to maintain her grip.

Kuina slowed herself enough not to snap her ankles in half at the base of the bluffs. She tumbled into a boneless heap, gasping for air and not entirely sure she was still alive. Chunks of wet sand clung to her cheek, stinging as it grated against an abrasion that ran from temple to jaw. Kuina felt blood trickle down her leg, a dozen other aches and pains vying for the rest of her attention.

So much for her glorious entrance to the Grand Line.

With a grunt of effort Kuina forced herself upright, shaking as the surge of adrenaline left her as suddenly as it had come. Another bolt of lightning revealed that her sword was still stuck in the slide of the cliff. With as much dignity as she could muster, Kuina retrieved it before leaning back against the rockface.

Ow.

It was the only coherent thought she could manage at that moment. Sinking back to the ground, Kuina decided that finding a ship could wait the five minutes it took for her to catch her breath.

At least she was out of the wind. The storm had only grown stronger in the time it took for her to reach the cove. Each raindrop was an icy needle that penetrated her now-useless cloak. Kuina wiped strands of wet hair from her eyes, ignoring the blood and the grime on her face as she peered out into the darkness. The torches that usually illuminated the shantytown had fizzled out, leaving only a few specks of lantern light to show the blocky outline of shacks made of rough wooden planks, held together with bits of twine and waterproofed with oakum and tar. The town jutted over the edge of the water, standing on stilts that swayed haphazard with the waves and the wind. To Kuina’s surprise, two great warships were anchored just offshore. More lightning revealed that one bore the mark of Buggy the Clown, while the other didn’t have a flag at all.

Curious.

What was more curious were the dots of light clustered by the wharf nearest the second ship. The dim light was just enough to see a cluster of people hurrying up and down the gangplank. Kuina grinned. Maybe someone was crazy enough to depart tonight after all.

“Oi, who goes there?”

A vague mass of humanity emerged from the darkness. Kuina struggled to her feet, shrugging her pack higher on her back and keeping a hand wrapped around the hilt of her sword. One of the figures lifted a lantern, illuminating a hard-faced woman flanked by two bulky men with swords. Underneath their raincoats they wore the mismatched, ragged clothing typical of the people who called Canary Cove home. Lookouts, most likely, who’d seen or heard her tumble down the cliff and come out to investigate.

Kuina didn’t relax her stance. “I don’t mean any trouble. I’m just looking to hitch a ride, and it looks like you’ve got the only ships setting sail.”

The woman peered at her suspiciously. “Who are you—”

Her eyes widened in recognition before ever finishing the question. An unholy shriek pierced over the whipping wind, and she screamed, “Marines! The marines are coming!”

“What, no!”

Kuina barely had time to draw her sword before one of the thugs was on top of her, the clash of blades sending sparks into the night sky. She shoved him aside and met the second man before he could decapitate her, the weight of his strike making Kuina’s injured leg buckle.

The woman continued to shout the alarm, waving her lantern high above her head. Kuina let out a string of curses as she batted the second man’s blade out of his hands before smashing the hilt of her sword against his temple. He crumpled instantly, and Kuina prayed that she hadn’t killed him.

“Listen, this is a big misunderstanding. I’m not a marine!” Kuina shouted as men and women poured out of Canary Cove like wasps from a kicked over nest. Most fled for the cliffs, but enough came charging at her for Kuina to know she was in trouble.

“You think I wouldn’t recognize the face of the bitch who killed my boy?” the woman snarled. “I’ve seen you yipping at the heels of that dog Smoker often enough, praying for the day I’d do to you what you Government bastards did to him!”

From the depths of her robes the woman pulled a gun, but Kuina was already moving. The first shot went wide right, and Kuina rammed her shoulder into her abdomen before she could get off another. The woman screamed as she fell, firing wildly into the growing throng of people.

Kuina felt the bullet whizz by her ear, and the person in front of her doubled over clutching their ribs. She dove between two others and somersaulted back to her feet before they could turn around. This time she didn’t waste time using the back of her blade. Two quick strokes and they were down, her sword slick with their blood.

“It’s just one girl! Don’t let her get away!”

“For fuck’s sake , ” Kuina muttered irritably. “I’m not a marine!”

It didn’t matter, and Kuina couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her current situation. She ran toward the shantytown, dodging bullets and ducking under swords. The crowded housing and narrow walkways lessened the advantage of numbers, and she was still determined to force her way onto the unmarked ship. Sand shifted to rickety planks of wood underfoot, the docks made entirely of salvage and held together with little more than some rope and a prayer.

Kuina’s grin widened. Hardly breaking stride, she swung her sword behind her, the keen blade cutting through the half-rotted wood like warm butter. She ducked behind a house and listened for the screams of those following her to fall through to the sea below.

Amateurs.  

Wood creaked overhead. Kuina looked up in time to see a teenage girl standing on the top of the house to hurl a rock at her head, dodging to the side before it hit the walkway.

“Missed!” Kuina yelled.

But the girl had already thrown herself off the other side of the roof. Puzzled, Kuina glanced back and saw that the girl hadn’t thrown a rock at all.

“Oh shit—” Kuina flung herself backward as the bomb exploded. Her heel caught on a post, and she fell into the water. Brilliant light flashed, the blast tearing the dock to pieces. Slivers of wood longer than her hand shot through the water, any one of them enough to pierce her through at close distance. Kuina swam as far and as fast as she could, until her lungs burned for lack of air. In the confusion she couldn’t remember which way was up, the weight of her clothes and sword making it hard to fight against the pull of the water.

Turning wildly, Kuina panicked until she saw the orange glow of fire through the murky water. Blackness ate at the edges of her vision as she used the last of her strength to breach the surface, gasping for air.

“There she is!”

Swallowing a curse and a lungful of air, Kuina dove back under the water, pistol fire flashing like fireflies in the dark of the storm. With her bearings it was easier to swim back to the docks, diving deep enough to avoid being shot.

She came up directly under their feet. The swell was rising every minute, and Kuina had scant inches of air between the sea and the rickety slats they stood on. She willed her heartbeat to slow, ignored the sting of salt in her wounds. Her hands searched until they found a bit of wire latching two planks together. Fingers numb with cold held on with whatever strength she had left.

She was in trouble if they had explosives that could detonate underwater. She was in trouble anyway, injured and fighting and a dozen enemies that she could hardly see. But now that she could think, Kuina refused to panic. Each breath came out slow and steady as she weighed her options. Overhead, the people of Canary Cove began to argue.

“She’s dead. Ain’t no one that could survive a barrage like that.”

“Do you see a body? ‘Cause I’m not gonna rest easy until I see a fucking body.”

“I can’t see shit . C’mon, guys, I’m going home.”

“I would, except one of you idiots blew it to smithereens!”

Someone stomped their foot, sending drops of water through a crack nearly an inch wide onto Kuina’s face. Slowly, carefully, she adjusted her hold on the wire, positioning herself more squarely under the squabble. The people paid less and less attention to the water as they argued, yelling about the fire and the supposed marine attack. Kuina felt the rumbling of bootsteps up and down the length of the dock, but couldn’t tell if that meant people were leaving or if more were joining the fight.

“What’s the meaning of this?”  a new voice exclaimed. “What’s going on here?”

“This doesn't concern you, stranger,” the man who’d complained about his house said. “If you were smart, you’d walk back to that fancy boat of yours and get on your merry way. Ten to one says it was you people who brought the marines here in the first place.”

“Marines? Here? But our intelligence says—”

“Well you can take your intelligence and shove it up your—”

Using the wire for leverage, Kuina thrust her sword through the crack. The man screamed as he tried unsuccessfully to jerk his foot off her katana. There was a sickening squelch as Kuina pulled free, immediately stabbing a second time.

This time she missed the opening between the planks, but it hardly mattered. There were more screams as people hurled themselves away from her sword, many falling into the sea. The few that kept their wits fired back, thrusting swords and shooting blindly to the space Kuina had occupied just moments before.

They were too slow. After her second thrust she bit down on the hilt of her sword and swam to the other side of the docks, cutting through the water as if she herself was a blade. Kuina pulled herself out of the sea while they were distracted, their backs turned.

Kuina’s grin turned razor sharp as she raised her sword. She hadn’t wanted this fight, but she would gladly finish it. Her pulse thundered in her ears, her muscles coiling. All it would take is one strike…

A hand clasped around her wrist and squeezed. Kuina suppressed a yelp as the bones of her wrist ground against each other, pain shooting up her arm. She fought against the hold, but the more she struggled the tighter the grip became until Kuina had no choice but to drop her katana.

Anger boiled over into fury. Without thinking, Kuina twisted her body to its breaking point and caught her sword with her off hand before it could hit the ground. Her grip was awkward, but she didn’t care, slashing wildly at the person who held her.

Her arm made it about halfway through its swing before it jolted to a stop, as if Kuina had hit some invisible metal wall. She barely had time to register what had happened before she was thrown backward, slamming into the back of one of the men who had been trying to kill her.

The blow knocked all the wind out of her, and the man staggered into the person next to him before falling. People began to shout as that man then fell on top of Kuina , burying her in a pile of thrashing limbs and blades.

There was so much noise and so much confusion that she almost didn’t hear the telltale crack of wood beneath her, and before Kuina knew what was going on she was plunged back into the cold, dark, unforgiving sea.

By the time Kuina woke the rain had eased from a torrential downpour to a mere thunderstorm. Every inch of her ached, and for as heavy as her limbs felt she wouldn’t have been surprised if her blood had been replaced with rivers of lead.

Blinking grit and salt from her eyes, Kuina struggled to sit up. In a brief moment of panic she realized that her scabbard was no longer at her hip, only to find that it, and her sword, had been laid out beside her.

“She lives!”

“G’wah?”

A cloaked figure squatted down beside her. Smaller, Kuina realized, than the person who’d knocked her out cold. And a woman. A woman with one of the deepest voices Kuina had ever heard, but a woman nonetheless.

“Who’re...who’re you?” Kuina asked, her words slurring together like she were drunk. Her head pounded as she tried to sit up once more.

“I was wondering the same thing.” The woman paused to light a cigarette, the hood of her cloak protecting it from the rain. Kuina squinted to see her better, the ember of the cigarette illuminating a pleasant round face, dark eyes, and lips that had been painted the color of fresh blood.

The woman exhaled, the smell of smoke briefly cutting through the ocean brine. “How did you find us, little marine?”

“‘m not a marine,” Kuina mumbled.

“Folk around here seem to think you are.”

Kuina told her in anatomically-improbable detail just what she thought of Canary Cove’s opinions.

The woman laughed, took another drag and said, “You have to admit the resemblance is rather striking. If the boss hadn’t seen you two together I might not have believed it. In fact, I still have my doubts.”

She reached beneath her cloak and pulled out Kuina’s mask. “I mean, who would have thought that the good Captain’s right-hand man would have a doppelganger moonlighting as Loguetown’s most feared monster. There are operas with more convincing plotlines than that.”

“Give it back,” Kuina said through gritted teeth. “It’s mine .”

“Oh ho, so you admit to being the Demon of Loguetown?”

Kuina clenched her jaw and didn’t answer.

“Thought so.” The woman flipped Kuina’s mask in the air like it was a frisbee, catching it again before it could hit the ground. “So what brings a bounty hunter here, and on today of all days? Hmn? Was there a hunt you couldn’t refuse? Did someone tell you about a certain ship coming into port?”

She tossed the mask again, but this time Kuina was ready. Quick as a snake she plucked it out of the air, bringing her katana up in the same motion. Kuina was so close she could feel the heat from the woman’s cigarette, the edge of her blade against her neck.

“I said. Give it back .”

From within the depths of her hood, Kuina could see the woman’s eyebrows raise, red lips curling in an amused smile. She was completely relaxed, and that gave Kuina pause.

“I’m a firm believer in letting people do things for themselves,” she said. Without seeming the least bit threatened, she arching her head back, turning her attention somewhere behind her. “Well, boss, what do you think? Should I kill her?”

A second figure emerged from the gloom, and it was a testament to how out of sorts Kuina was that she hadn’t noticed his hulking figure until the moment he decided to reveal himself. It took her confused mind precious moments to recognize him as the man who grabbed her. Kuina scrambled backward, but the woman only laughed, pushing aside her sword with one hand and giving Kuina a hard shove with the other, knocking her flat on the ground.

“That wasn’t necessary,” the man grumbled in a low voice that rumbled like thunder.

His massive shadow fell over Kuina. She knew she should be afraid, but all she could feel within her was anger. She stared into the impenetrable depths of his hood, defiant even in weakness. If they wanted to kill her, the future greatest swordsman in the world, then they were in for a fight.

“Who are you?” Kuina demanded just as a bolt of lightning flashed overhead, as bright and bold as the one that had taken out the execution tower. For that brief moment she could see the face of the man strong enough to throw her like a ragdoll, a man so strong her blade failed to even reach him.

Kuina saw his long, beaky nose, the mass of black hair that fell down past his shoulders and the piercing eyes that seemed to bypass all her defenses. But most of all she noticed the red tattoos criss-crossed down the left side of his face, instantly recognizable even to someone who refused to read the paper.

“ Dragon ,” Kuina said dumbly. “You’re...I don’t...What’s the Revolution doing here? ”

The woman got to her feet to stand by Dragon’s side. “You mean you didn’t know? Then what are you doing stirring up trouble on a night like this? Don’t tell me you were looking for that buffoon with the red nose.”

“ You were the ones who attacked me, ” Kuina said. She pushed herself upright, using her sword clamber to her feet. The motion made the world spin for a moment or two, or maybe that was just her mind trying to catch up with the momentous revelation she just learned.

“That’s not what it looked like from where I stood,” the woman said. She flicked the remnants of her cigarette behind her in disgust. “You would have killed—”

“Betty.”

That one word was enough to stop her rant dead. Dragon took another step forward, and Kuina had to force herself not to step back to accommodate him. Before he could say any more, she pointed out to sea.

“Is that your ship?”

Dragon, the leader of the Revolutionary Army and the most wanted man in the world, tilted his head. It was a strangely human gesture for someone most were convinced was some kind of monster. A real one, not a girl who dressed the part while she was out working.

“Why do you ask?”

Kuina jutted her chin out defiantly. “You do most your business out on the Grand Line, right? I need a ride.”

Betty laughed to her face, but Dragon merely nodded. “All right.”

“I can’t very well ask the idiots here after the fight they started, and Smoker’s got all of Loguetown locked tight. You owe me–wait.” Kuina startled as his words sank in. “You’re serious? I can go with you?”

“The Army doesn’t owe you anything ,” Betty snapped, before imploring her boss, “I know you saw her with that marine girl, but I don’t trust her. She’s a bounty hunter , for god’s sake. It’s bad enough she saw our faces, think of the breach in security—”

“The World Government nearly cut me in half because of you,” Kuina said coldly. “You probably don’t remember, but nine years ago my father gave you aid. I hope it was worth it, because the Government decided to punish us for your crimes.” Her gaze never wavered from his, daring him to try and contradict what she knew to be true. “So before you get all uppity about me ending a fight I didn’t even start, maybe you should ask yourself how much innocent blood you’ve got on your hands first.”

Betty fell silent while Dragon continued to peer down at her. Kuina’s cheeks flushed as years of pent-up resentment and anger and helplessness bubbled to the surface, and no amount of swordsmen training was able to push it back down again. The Revolution was just as bad as the Government as far as she was concerned, fighting in an endless war that hurt more than it helped.

She didn’t care about any of it. She’d spent countless nights wondering what would have happened if her father had just left well enough alone, what it would have looked like if a simple moment of altruism hadn’t torn her life and family apart.

All that mattered now was her ambition. And if Kuina was ever going to become the greatest swordsman in the world she needed to get to the Grand Line, and if she was ever to get to the Grand Line she needed a boat. It didn’t matter to her where that boat came from, as long as she was on it.

Ignoring her long itinerary of aches and pains, Kuina sheathed her sword and picked her tattered backpack off of the ground. “I’m ready to go when you are.”

Dragon inclined his head, and without any further deliberation started walking to his ship, Kuina limping closely behind.

[chubbyooo]

Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 76 - Birth of a Revolution

hey all my block is bad at the mo but here’s a chapter I finally got round to

Risha discusses her plans for Dubrillion with Ash and Gacen

Ash sat on the grass not quite sure what to do, Gacen had been in there for a while and by the sounds of things he was rather occupied. She couldn’t say she could really relate to whatever animalistic lust came over them but knew it was best to give them some space. She smiled still, it could’ve gone a lot worse, they seemed to have reconnected positively, it felt kinda good but not as good as she’d hoped. She thought it might make her lack of direction go away but nope it was still there, there was word from Guss that Risha was planning something so maybe she could help with that. She sighed, nothing ever really filled that lack of direction feeling but Havoc Squad had been the best example of something that gave her direction but even then she was fighting for a corrupt government. 

She looked around the jungle and the base set up, Risha certainly had been busy and productive, there were little droids building all over the jungle. She chuckled and she’d also been rich enough, Ash turned to see Guss sitting down next to her he was poking at the ground seeming like he wanted to say something “so how long do you reckon we’re gonna have to wait?” someone had to break the silence

Guss looked to her flustered “oh um maybe a while they hopefully will be done soon” Ash nodded knowing Gacen it could be a while “so uh you were travelling with Gacen?” Ash could sense the jealousy even if it wasn’t warranted

Ash looked away “yeah I mean I helped him out of prison and then I thought it best someone look after him” she sighed “and I really didn’t have anything else to do” Guss nodded rubbing his chin

He turned to her “well I’m glad he’s back he was probably missing his Jedi Best Friend” Ash just nodded ignoring the obvious implication

Ash folded her arms “yeah I’m sure he missed his sidekick he told me about it when i was piloting the ship” Guss’ eyes widened 

He responded in a huff “I’m not a sidekic… he lets you pilot the ship” Ash let herself grin a little bit  

Ash nodded “well yes I’m copilot after all and we’re equals so there wouldn’t be any reason not to” Guss breathed out heavily frowning

Guss sulked “well yes I suppose so… I’m glad he managed to find Risha as a result of me that was quite well placed of me” Ash had to admit messing with him was a little fun

Ash responded “yeah it’s a good thing I found that footage of you I’m happy to have helped” Guss frowned a little more before looking away

He mumbled “no one likes a show off” and then continued “I managed to get all these droids here by the way, well before M4-SK was here” he paused “not too shabby if you ask me” Ash nodded just ignoring him now

From behind they heard a voice “that was pretty good of you buddy” Ash turned to see Gacen above them, he jumped down off the ridge “alright we’re all done so you guys can come in” Ash sighed not wanting to know what that entailed 

Ash asked “so how did it go? Is everything good?” Gacen had a noticeable smile which cause Ash to let out a very genuine smile 

Gacen raised his eyebrow “woah what is this are you genuinely smiling” he teased as Ash’s signature frown returned “anyway yeah it went awesome you were right no awkwardness but not only that, Risha has some plans of her own if you wanna get involved” It was either this or boring smuggler jobs so Ash nodded

Gacen led them towards the house and as he did Guss jogged up to him “so um about Ash how serious is uh this um friendship” Ash lagged behind but couldn’t help but roll her eyes

Gacen shook his head “Guss don’t do this to yourself you’re both equally good I’m allowed more than one friend, I could never replace you” Guss looked both satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time

He nodded “right right yes equally good friends right” he slinked back “cool cool cool cool” as he passed Ash he mumbled “irreplaceable” Ash had to stifle a laugh due to how little she cared about this weird rivalry Guss had created for himself

Gacen led them into the base and to a large war room where Risha stood waiting for them at a holotable, Ash had to admit as soon as she saw a war room she got a little rush of excitement this could be good. 

Risha looked sternly at Ash she wondered if she was still mad at Ash for taking Gacen away on that mission “good to see you again Ash how have you been” she had never heard anything said sterner in her life

Ash looked away awkwardly “uh hi um Risha I uh well I want to apolag-” Risha cut her off

She waved it off “relax Ash, you may have taken Gacen from me and gotten him captured separating us for 8 years” she paused for a scary amount of time “but you brought him back so I forgive you” Ash gave an awkward smile nodding

Gacen chuckled “dude she’s messing with you” Risha face turned into a smirk as she gestured to the Holotable, upon it was the planet of Dubrillion spinning as they gathered around it

Risha began “As I’m sure you’ve gathered by now I am trying to retake Dubrillion from this man” a stern Bald man appeared on the table his face long and old, Ash had seen his face once before on a Holo that a terrible scientist had talked to. “This is King Actavarus III of Dubrillion the current ruler of Dubrillion, a Tyrant and more than that a coward” Ash had gotten that impression from him he seemed like the worst type of noble

Gacen chimed in “also a massive Asshole” Risha nodded agreeing with Gacen’s comment

Risha sighed “he is the sort of ruler that when he sees a revolution brewing he will destroy cities to stop it” she paused “that’s not a metaphor he actually did that, to get at me” Ash could see the hurt in her face as she talked “he and the other nobles surrendered the planet during the eternal empires reign almost immediately but now that has been dissolved it remains unaligned” Ash nodded considering the options

Ash spoke up “it seems if we were to take on this we’d need allies, ones that are powerful and could outsmart such cowardly tactics” Risha nodded sliding a crest across the table to her

Risha continued “absolutely correct but I think we have just gained the first one, if you will be one of the commanders Ash?” Ash looked at the crest of a crown sitting above a factory; she felt an immense sense of pride as she held it.

She let herself smile again “of course I will Risha I’ve looked into what Actavarus has been doing and if anywhere needs liberating it’s Dubrillion” Risha nodded with a smile

Gacen joked “oh wow two times in one day she’s doing it she’s having emotions” Ash got the knife from her belt and gestured with it to shut Gacen up

Risha shook her head “anyway I can’t form any sort of open rebellion as he will sacrifice the people for control and I can’t allow that” she brought up a set of plans that each looked complex “so instead I will need operatives to do theses jobs for me, these are a number of plans I have come up with to minimize civilian casualties but allow us the control and foothold we would need” Ash looked at the many plans on the screen Risha certainly had a lot of time on her hands many of these had contingencies and everything but she did worry considering she wasn’t a military mind. Risha continued “but for now we have limited options so we will merely be doing scouting and recruitment” she looked to Gacen “Gacen will be handling recruitment of allies due to his certain charms” Gacen looked very full of himself for a second, Risha turned back to Ash “and I wanted you to handle early missions, first you and Guss should head to Dubrillion to check on the scientists inventions” the face of that terrible scientist appeared on the screen

Ash frowned “are you sure Guss would be the best choice for this mission he may slow me down” Risha frowned at her

Guss responded “I don’t mind working with her but she does have a point I may slow her down a bit” wow talk about low confidence

She folded her arms “you’re a lot more resourceful than you may look” she paused “but more importantly I don’t want anyone going in without backup we’re stretched thin enough as it is we need to stick together” Ash conceded that was a very good point

Gacen smiled “she’s right though I’m sure by the end of the trip you guys will be best mates” they both looked at each other not convinced

Risha continued “nonetheless Armande is the one thing I can’t really predict, he has a habit for trying to make inventions and getting something that has an other more dangerous function and as a result it’s pretty hard to predict” Ash nodded that at least explained the terrible truth serum

Ash looked at the plans “right so have a look around his base find out what dangerous inventions he has here and report back” Risha nodded Ash was very surprised they were getting on so well

Risha frowned “and if anything goes wrong do NOT mention me or anything about these plans we need this looking like a break in, if you get caught keep the act up until you can escape got it’ she was very firm making it abundantly clear how hush hush this had to be

Ash nodded “Understood you can count on me” Ash was surprised she honestly couldn’t wait to go, her first proper mission in years she better ace it

Risha smiled turning to Gacen “In the meantime we have to decide what allies we may want to and if any faction would take us” she pressed a button on the table and a red togrutas face appeared on the screen “first of all I’d like to get some of my most trusted allies so Gacen I need you to find Master Sumalee” Gacen let out and audible groan

Gacen sighed “whaaat we have to work with the by the rules Jedi cmonnnnn what can she offer us” Ash could think of so many things

Risha put her hands on her hips “you think Sumalee is by the book? She’s one of the better jedi and regardless we could use her strategic mind on this matter and you know she owes me” Gacen conceded nodding “now you better play nice and get her for me” Gacen nodded

He frowned “fine I may not like her but you have a point” he paused “and to be honest you probably have so much more of an idea of how to take a planet” he was only half joking but Risha did still smile

Risha continued “Intel suggests she’s on a planet called Wayland I have some possible coordinates but it may take a bit of searching so take M4-SK with you” she gestured to the corner where Ash hadn’t even noticed M4-SK leaning against the wall

They stood up and walked towards them “A new part eh Pard” they paused as their voice became a lot higher pitched “sounds perfect I’ll start workin on my character when we have some time Master Zandar” Gacen looked at them a bit bewildered

He responded “I um guess just be a protocol droid for this one” M4-SK nodded as Gacen frowned at them

M4-SK responded “ah yes sounds perfect next time you see me I will be a protocol droid” with that they walked out of the chamber

Gacen frowned “isn’t it already a protocol droid?” Risha just shook her head

“Just go with it it’s a lot easier than arguing” Guss nodded they clearly were used to it

Ash still was curious about a few things “so in terms of a bigger ally what were you thinking?” Risha brought up what looked like pros and cons lists

Risha gestured to them “Well there are two options either we go with the Republic or the Alliance, the Republic is a little more of a sure thing but also liable to corruption. Whereas the Alliance tends to be volatile so I’m looking for further input hopefully from Sumalee and you two” Ash pretty much had the same opinion of both it was a rather good assessment

Gacen chuckled “don’t ask me I have no idea who’s running what or the morales of any of them” Ash could back that up he really had no idea what was going on.

Risha frowned “really? Well I guess I’ll have to talk to Sumalee and Ash then but I’m leaning towards the Alliance” Ash nodded in agreement, the republic had burned her too many times. Risha shook her head “anyway for now those are the plans I’d advise we leave soon but feel free to at least take a break before we spring into action” Ash nodded she was raring to go but Gacen probably wasn’t

Gacen shook his head “I think I’ll stay a couple days and make sure to get a perma comm set up with you before I go” Risha smiled as she chucked a commlink at him

She chuckled “already done, you best keep that on” Gacen quickly put it on

Gacen smiled “perfect I like the way you think babe” Ash scoffed as they began to flirt and left to plan the mission

A day or two had passed since the briefing and Ash had been bogged down preparing for the mission but finally she was ready as they prepared the small vessel Risha and Guss had escaped in for a trip to Dubrillion. She smiled, they were all ready, she was gonna get everything she needed, come back and plan a revolution, she hadn’t felt this excited in weeks. 

She turned to Guss as he packed the ship “ok are you ready? Got all the stealth equipment and the fake credentials” Guss nodded as he carried a box to the ship

He smiled “I checked them all with Risha before I left the base and I think that everything is correct and in order” Ash smiled Guss had proved surprisingly capable when being bossed around he certainly didn’t question authority like someone

Ash nodded “sounds good get everything prepped” she glanced past him to see Gacen standing waiting to say goodbye “I gotta say my goodbyes I assume you already have?” he nodded as Ash strode over to Gacen

Gacen smiled a her “look at you two days and already going off on another mission” Ash chuckled he had a point

She looked away “I uh was never one to stay in a place too long, I completed my mission with you now it’s on to the next one and all that” she paused “but I’m not going anywhere I’ll be back in a couple days ready for your arrival with Sumalee” Ash assumed Gacen felt weird since they hadn’t been apart for two years and to be fair it was a little weird

Gacen held his neck “yeah I know but I haven’t been away from you since escaping just uh guess I’m just a sentimental fool” Ash nodded he was definitely that

She responded “well don’t worry I”m sure Risha can look after you and believe me when I get back we are having a checkup, you can handle this mate I believe in you” Gacen nodded he knew the nature of their friendship at this point

Gacen smiled “thanks for getting me here, I never could’ve done this without you” he chuckled “there I go getting sentimental again I think i get that from my mom” Ash laughed before she remembered something she’d been meaning to ask him. She was about to speak up but she paused looking at him for a second, he looked happy, maybe she could give him a few days before asking about his family.

She looked to the ship “Well I best not keep Guss waiting don’t want him to crash the ship” Gacen laughed clearly relating “I’ll see ya soon have fun with your wife” Gacen nodded waving goodbye to her as she walked onto the ship. Here we go she thought another adventure let’s hope this ones a good one...

[ladylillianrose]

You’ve Got SPRQS a Max Richman/Zoey Clarke Fanfiction

A/N: I’m so happy you all are enjoying this! I truly appreciate all your comments and reviews! 

If you haven’t seen “They Live” by John Carpenter I highly recommend it, it’s totally one of Max’s favorites. I mean come on it’s got Rowdy Roddy Piper in it!

Special thanks to aubreyrichman for being my lovely beta and finding all my errors that come from stream of consciousness writing at 2AM

Per usual it’s all Austin Winsberg’s, but I’m considering holding them hostage until NBC tells us they’ve renewed!!!

Summary: Max and Zoey grab their morning coffee and making movie night plans.

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Zoey walked bleary-eyed through the door of Golden Gate Grind glancing around to see if Max had arrived. He wasn't there yet, she glanced at her watch, well she was a few minutes early.

She smiled to herself and dashed off a quick message to PianoMan.

"Is there anything better than getting your first cup of coffee in the morning?"

"I could make a strong case for the second and third cup as well."

Zoey chuckled.

"So, what's your poison?"

"Just give me a plain cup of black coffee, I'm easy."

Zoey raised her eyebrows, feeling a little bold she hit send before she could overthink it.

"Oh really? ;)"

"........This is what happens when I attempt to function before coffee."

Zoey giggled.

"I imagine you like something sweet but not too sweet, with as many shots as you can get without feeling like the barista is judging you."

"I'll have you know I stop at 4 shots….for the first one. But, you're right about the slightly sweet."

"Must be because you're sweet enough already…"

Zoey snorted out loud. 

"And here I was worried I'd have to go through the day without hearing a terrible pick-up-line."

"I live to serve ;)”

Zoey felt herself blush, she was about to send a response when the door behind her opened and she turned to see Max entering the cafe.

"Hey Max," she grinned, giving him a little wave.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Max nodded at her.

Zoey’s grin grew bigger, “I just woke up feeling happy this morning. I managed to have a nice, quiet, and relaxing evening, so that helped.”

Max smiled, “That’s great, Zo.” 

"But, how about you? How goes the personal project that you were so excited about?"

Max's face lit up, "It went great! I mean I just started, but I feel like it's really the beginning of something."

Zoey squeezed his arm, "That's amazing! I can't wait to see what this is all about!"

Max smiled, "I promise, you will eventually."

They stepped up to the register to place their orders. 

"Just a black coffee, please. I'm easy," Max said, smiling at the barista. 

Zoey felt a sense of deja vu at his comment, could Max….no she had ruled him out the day before when he expressed no interest in joining SPRQS. Must just be a coincidence, she shook her head dismissing the thought.

"And I'll have 4 shots of espresso with 3 pumps of vanilla please."

Max wrinkled his nose at her order like he always did. 

"Sorry, but I like my coffee a little sweet. We can't all drink our coffee as dark and bitter as Leif's soul." 

Max made a face, "Awww, don't ruin my coffee by comparing it to him." He wrapped his hand protectively around his cup. "You're just jealous of our relationship."

"Max, I say this with love….shut up and drink your damn coffee."

Max grinned, tossing a wink at her. "Come on, you know I love you best."

Not bothering to respond, Zoey just shook her head as they headed out of the cafe and towards work.

Zoey was eyeball deep in code all morning, and she worked straight through her lunch. She heard Max move his chair next to hers and she blinked up at him, finally removing her tired eyes from the screen.

"You missed lunch," Max explained, pulling out two food containers. 

"I was gonna stop soon...." Zoey began but stopped at the look Max gave her.

He passed her one of the containers, "You and I both know how you get when you’re focused on work. So, take a break and eat some lunch with me."

Zoey nodded and opened her box grinning at what she saw. "You got Thai? From the…"

"From the restaurant across town, because the one nearby had all those weird Yelp reviews," Max interrupted. "Pad Thai for me and Pad See Ew for you, just like always.”

Zoey reached out and squeezed his hand in thanks. "What would I do without you, Max?"

"Oh, have far less fun, that's for certain," Max grinned at her.

Zoey chuckled, as she snuck her chopsticks into his container, snagging a few noodles, making sure to grab one with plenty of peanut sauce on it.

Max shook his head at her, "You know you don't have to steal them from me."

"But, they taste so much better when they're stolen, " Zoey said, sticking her tongue out at him.

Max used his chopsticks to reach into her dish, grabbing himself a noodle. "Mmmm, you're right, stolen does taste better."

They ate their lunch chatting in between grabbing bites from the other's container.

"Have you ever heard anyone comment about 'pianist's' or 'musician's' fingers?" Zoey asked.

Max's eyes grew huge. "Ummm no...I can't say I have. What makes you ask that?"

"Just something Mo mentioned yesterday. Something about how if they're talented at the piano, then those fingers are probably talented in other ways." Zoey explained.

Max felt his brain stop as he tried to process what Zoey said.

"I was just thinking about it," she shrugged, unaware of the effect her comments had on her best friend.

This wasn't the first time Max had heard this comment, he had heard it plenty in college when girls found out he could play the piano. But, this was different, this was Zoey, his best friend, and secret crush. And now, he couldn't help but imagine what his talented fingers could do to her body. He took in a deep breath.

Calm down, Max. We're at work, and she didn't mean it like that.

Zoey found herself inadvertently studying Max's hands as she asked the question. He had long, expressive fingers, and he was always gesturing with his hands when he was excited, something Zoey found adorable.

A vision of him running those fingers along her body had her flushing and reaching quickly for her water.

The feelings she had for Max, that she thought she had gotten a grip on, came flooding back in an instant.

Get control of yourself, he's your best friend. He isn't interested in playing you like a piano, no matter how desperately you may want him to.

Max cleared his throat, "So, we still on for movie night tonight?" He asked, desperate to change the subject and distract them both. 

"Of course. What are you planning for tonight? It's your turn to pick."

"I'm feeling some 80's action so we're gonna watch 'They Live'."

"Is that the one with the 'all out of bubblegum line'?"

"If you mean the iconic line 'I came here to chew bubblegum and kick ass, but I'm all out of bubblegum'. Then yes it is, and it is a crime that we've been friends this long and you still haven't seen it!"

Zoey shook her head amused, "Well then, 'They Live' it is. Do you need to go home after work, or should we just head straight to my place?"

"I have a quick stop to make but then I'll be alright. I'll meet you at your place, say 7?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Max nodded and cleaned up their mess.

"Thank you for always taking care of me, Max." Zoey smiled at him, which he returned.

"You know that I'm here for you, always."

[queenmorgawse]

transmigration for dummies

chapter four. mdzs scum villain au. concept credit to @lee-luca. read on ao3 for end notes.  previous | first | next

About halfway ( according to his questionable sense of direction, anyway ) to Mo Village, Lan Fan catches up to him, hovering about five feet away. Jingyi sees her lips moving, but her words are lost to the whistling wind. “What?” he screams back.

She makes a face and shouts at him, in defiance of at least three Gusu Lan rules, “Mom came back yesterday, she told me to tell you you’ve got to look after me and also share your food!”

“Mom?”

“Yeah! Just because I see her more than you do doesn’t mean you don’t need to listen to her!” She points a threatening finger in his direction. “I’ll tell her if you bully me!”

Jingyi’s only half listening to her. His head is reeling. Since when does the original have a little sister, or a family at all? Whose headcanon is this?!

Lan Fan is still looking at him expectantly, though the effect is a bit ruined by the way the wind keeps whipping her long hair back in her face. “Got it,” he manages to garble out after about thirty awkward seconds of silence. Satisfied, she pours another load of spiritual energy into her sword, willing it to go faster. She catches up to her friends in the front in no time, leaving Jingyi to his existential crisis.

Come to think of it, it’s not that weird for him to have an entire sister he didn’t know was his sister, even though they’d only met about four days into his new life. They don’t look that much alike - he and Lan Fan must take after different parents, even if he doesn’t know who they are either. Plus, with the way the Lan clan literally has the girls and women living in an entirely separate part of the Cloud Recesses, the two of them probably never spent much time in the other’s company outside of training.

The thought makes Jingyi’s stomach churn with unease. Up until now, he only had to worry about not looking too suspicious in front of his fellow disciples. He can probably manage Lan Fan too, if the way she acts towards him is any indication. It’s relatively safe to assume he doesn’t have a father either : if they live in the same part of the Cloud Recesses, they would have run into each other by now, right?

He can fool his friends. He can even fool Lan Sizhui, who knows him best out of everyone here. But can he really look a mother in the eye and pretend he’s her son?

They’re not real, Jingyi tells himself. They’re just people the System created. But even as he repeats this mantra, he knows he’s not convinced. Everyone is too fleshed out, even compared to their novel counterparts, for him to treat them like they’re disposable.

It doesn’t matter, he ultimately decides. He won’t have to get used to having a dad, at least. Lan Fan, though ⎯ he can’t just brush her off. They have a mother, even if he doesn’t know her name yet, and she’s counting on him to protect Lan Fan.

Well, in light of their comparative fighting prowess, she might have to be the one doing the protecting, but it hopefully won’t come to that.

Jingyi spares a thought for Nie Mingjue’s dismembered arm waiting for them in Mo village, and silently revises that statement.

-

Within five minutes of knowing her, Jingyi can safely say this : Madam Mo reminds him of his least favorite middle school teacher. Granted, Mrs Robin didn’t dress this fancy, but she certainly sneered down her nose at people a lot and never pronounced Jingyi’s name right, despite it really not being as hard as it could have been. About halfway through the year, Jingyi had given up and started calling her by her full name, Mrs Robin-Banks, which had earned him about a month of scraping the undersides of tables clean of bubble gum.

Exactly like he used to do in class, he tunes out of her speech about how her son definitely has the potential to be a cultivator, if only a great clan - any of them, of course not theirs specifically - would notice him and take him under their wing…

On his left side, Tao Ming rolls his eyes so hard they actually go white for a second, right before Lan Fan discreetly elbows him in the ribs. It takes all of Jingyi’s self-control not to do the same.

He may have been watching the door for Mo Xuanyu’s arrival, but it still doesn’t prepare him to the chaos that erupts when the man himself barges into the hall.

Jingyi isn’t sure how much of the effect can be chalked up to his own knowledge of the character, but Wei Wuxian is a riot from his very first moment here. While the other disciples look on, half fascinated and half appalled, he leans forward, following the other’s movements. Energy runs through Wei Wuxian like a wire, whether he is scampering about the room to escape the servants or taunting Mo Ziyuan and his parents. Saying he can’t stay still would be an understatement.

As entertaining as the situation is, it is also highly awkward, especially when one of the girls reaches for Mo Xuanyu to help him to his feet, revealing the red footprint at the center of his chest. Despite knowing this beforehand, the sight makes Jingyi sick.

“Did everyone see that? Did you? The burglar is also beating someone up! How heartless!”

While he was lost in thoughts, Wei Wuxian dusted himself off, and is now pointing an accusing finger at his ‘cousin’. Before Jingyi can remember his mission or say anything, Sizhui’s calm voice cuts through the commotion. “Please calm down. Words are more powerful than weapons.”

Yeah, but it’d help a lot if I could punch this guy in the face. If he thought watching or reading about Mo Ziyuan going on his mama’s boy spiel, the entire thing pales in comparison to real life. Jingyi is itching to leap across the tea table and throttle him with his bare hands so he’ll just stop talking, but that might be an infraction unforgivable even for the most un-Lan Lan to ever Lan.

Sensing the shift in atmosphere, Wei Wuxian stays behind Sizhui, peeking out from behind his shoulder with all the offended dignity of a jilted maiden.

Madam Mo’s smile looks plastered on, like the smallest tug would be enough to peel it off her face. “This is my younger sister’s son. He’s not so bright here ; everyone from the Mo Village knows that he is a lunatic, and often speaks strange words that shouldn’t be taken seriously. Cultivator, please…”

“Who said that my words shouldn’t be taken seriously? Next time, try stealing anything from me again. You steal once, and I cut off one of your hands!” Wei Wuxian interrupts. Jingyi winces. Of course, no one here can possibly know the weight these words carry, but let him cringe in peace, okay?

Lan Fan chances a glance towards Sizhui. “Shixiong, should we…” In an attempt to be subtle, she glares towards the fuming members of the Mo family, then schools her expression into a serene one when turning to their leader again.

Sizhui clears his throat. “We will borrow the West Courtyard for the night. Please remember the things that I’ve talked about—after nightfall, close all of the windows, don’t come outside, or worse, walk toward the courtyard.”

Nice try, dude.

To be fair, Jingyi feels a little mean, just letting things happen. Plot-essential as they are, this night did result in the death of four (he thinks?) people.

【Canon events must proceed as they were written,】the System pings, sealing the debate.

-

Things cool down after that. Their little group files out of the hall in their usual orderly fashion and gets to work, evacuating the last of the servants from the West Courtyard and unpacking their supplies. It’s almost pastoral.

Trouble finds them all the same, while Jingyi is checking on the position of the last of the Spirit Attraction flags.

He spots Mo Xuanyu’s ghastly makeup from a mile away. Telling the protagonist off is useless, he knows, but a good little Lan disciple would have to enforce the most basic of the instructions they gave. “Hey, you! Go back, alright? No one’s allowed here until we’ve dealt with the corpses!”

As expected, Wei Wuxian ignores him, hopping up on the roof and making a grab for the nearest flag. Even if Jingyi wanted to catch him, he couldn’t have ; for someone who was dead twenty-four hours ago and received a nasty beating since, the man is surprisingly nimble.

“Give it back!” he still shouts, chasing after him. “Weren’t you a cultivator once? You should know better than to mess with that!”

“I’m not giving it back, I’m not giving it back! I want this thing! I want this!” Wei Wuxian sing-songs back, sticking to his role as the local madman. Where’s the guy’s Oscar, huh? This is Amy Adams all over again.

Fortunately, all his flailing about gives Jingyi time to catch up. He grabs him by the arm, shaking the flag out of his slackened grip. “There!”

“Jingyi, don’t hit him. He’s not feeling well.” Sizhui must have been drawn in by the ruckus, leaving his own side of the flag formation.

“I didn’t hurt him!” Jingyi protests. “He was the one making a mess first!”

Sizhui gave him an understanding look, then turned back to Wei Wuxian. “Young master Mo, it’s getting late, and we’ll start capturing the walking corpses soon. For your own safety, please return to your room. The flag…”

“It’s just a flag, so what’s the big deal?” Wei Wuxian cuts in with a huff. “I can draw way better than this!” Before the other juniors’ astonishment can manifest, he’s sprinted off, leaving the discarded flag lying in the dust behind him.

Lan Fan and a few of her friends giggle from their own positions on the roof, while Tao Ming glares at the direction Wei Wuxian disappeared in. “What a maniac! Why can’t these people even follow simple rules?”

“It’s all right, A-Ming,” Sizhui soothes. “We still have time, so let’s just fix it up before sunset. As long as he doesn’t come back, everything will be fine.”

“Back to work, everyone!” Jingyi adds. It earns him a 【Uncharacteristic willingness to follow orders : -5 points.】alert, which he responds to with a classy middle finger behind Sizhui’s retreating back.

The OOC function really can’t come a second too soon.

-

The rest of the evening goes by uneventfully. Once it’s clear that Mo Xuanyu will not be coming back before dawn, their group wastes no time fixing the flag formation and preparing their weapons. When dinner comes around, Jingyi dutifully shares half of the veggie buns the Mo family servants bring them with Lan Fan.

To his relief, it doesn’t prompt any family bonding for them. Not that they would have had much time to talk, since his little sister spent most of the meal trying to fit as many baozi into her mouth as she could, which would surely not be as tolerated in the Lan clan dining hall.

The handful of corpses that do show up, hooked in by the flags, are more than easy to dispel. Even Jingyi, who can admit he chickens out easily, feels almost bored chopping the slow, clumsy undead to pieces. It’d be a peaceful night, if not for his knowledge that sooner or later, they’d all be summoned to the main hall again to be witnesses to a murder.

-

Bingo, Jingyi thinks when a young serving girl bursts into the West courtyard, shaking like a leaf. Her sobs wake up the few disciples who dozed off following their watch schedule ; they reach for their swords in no time, expecting another wave of corpses. It does nothing but scare the poor girl further.

Jingyi reaches her first. “What happened?” he asks, knowing full well what just went down.

The girl sniffles. She’s really a child, possibly younger than Lan Fan. “I-Madam Mo told me to call you because, because…” She cuts herself off with another sniffle, curling into herself.

“Breathe,” he advises her. “With me, okay?”

She follows suit, obediently inhaling and exhaling in sync with him, until her shaking has subsided enough for her to form a coherent sentence. “Cultivators, Mistress wants to see you as soon as possible. She said…” Another hiccup. “She said the lunatic killed her son!”