#like that shit should be illegal. 6 answer choices on like half the questions

[girlucifer]

satan - lost kitten, metric

don't say yes if you can't say no / victim of the system, say it isn't so / squatted on the doorstep, swollen on the blow / leaving without you, can't say no: you'd always wonder if he knew the sort of power he holds within himself and upon others. the very circumstances of his being coming to fruition is one of complete rage. he knew nothing but a burning wrath that had warped his view for so long, it had curled its tendrils far deep into his veins, to the point you were unsure if he was being consumed, or if he knew exactly what he was doing. it always seemed to be the latter- the way he always seemed so cold, so calculative, like every move was a coordinated act- you saw it in the ways he smiles, and frowns, the way his eyebrows crease while reading a passage, how his lips curve during the climax, his hands as they close the book- he controls the narrative, always and always.

you find yourself knocking upon his door late at night, not ever to his surprise.

when you lie, i'll cover it up / when you hide, i'll cover it up / when you cry, i'll cover it up / when you come undone, i'll cover it up: the truth had come out that you were celestial, with light running through your veins, and when he had met your eyes in the living room that day, you knew he felt he'd lost you. his brothers- they knew you, they tasted you when their wings were platinum, their hair coiffed as they bore celestial garments, with halos glittering upon their head. he never had that, he didn't know what made you so golden, having a past only made up of hell and fury. and with that newfound holiness, you become unattainable- not a lover to kiss, but a god to kneel to, to die for.

you've got my eyes, you've got my eyes / you'll never be mine, ah, but you've got my eyes: hands clasped together, yours upon his shoulder, his guiding your waist, you dance solemnly with his eyes avoiding your own. you know he's in love with you. you try to take his face in your palm but he flinches. and you know why he pulls away. your touch burns, and he's too smart to be drawn in like a moth to a flame.

[lovemissmini]

I Found you

Synopsis: We all need a friend. Sometimes you have to find one to gain one. Especially in this post-apocalyptic world.

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Warnings:  Post-apocalypse, reader might not be 100% sane, hints of death, not much action. PG13

Length: ~2k

A/N: I would go crazy if I was all alone for 6 months, no questions asked.

All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. Lovemissmini © . Do not copy, rewrite, repost without my permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.

“If it weren’t for you, Tae, I would have gone crazy a loooong time ago. Hmm?” You spare a glance towards your companion before you continued your babbling. “It’s just, six year, who wouldn’t go insane in that amount of time. All alone. No one to talk to.”

You nod to yourself, sinking deeper into the worn-out armchair, letting the cheap cushioning quickly engulfing your thin form. Human interaction had become a strange topic for you, just like the concept of keeping track of time. Did it really matter what day of the week it was? It’s not like you had a job or anything. So, what did it matter if you woke up at 1 in the afternoon or ate during the deadly hours of dawn? Hell, why do you even care about the number of times the sun rose before it ultimately set to make the end of the day. One day or six years, tomato tomato.

You should stop. Your mind was wandering off on a tangent even whilst you continued to hold a conversation on a separate matter, yet again. Your thoughts always did that, wander off, that is, into an incoherent multitude of ideas. That’s just how your brain worked. Or maybe that’s your insanity talking.

“But I’m lucky to have found you, yeah?”

You look out of the window of your new living room, into the streets and the cars that haphazardly littered the cracked roads and pavement. Room, that’s quite an interesting word choice. It might be too generous a word for the space where you were seated as of now. A room would imply an enclosed area with a roof above your head and at least three connected walls and some form of a door or partition. Right?

But your choice of temporary lodging was, to be honest, not quite the conventional image you would associate with that word. The best you could truly say about said room was that it was once a room. All that was left was remnants of a living room; the lone standing section of the street facing wall decorated with a broken window frame, piles of brick from the other less fortunate walls scattering the surrounding chaos, broken scraps of furniture thrown around you in a disordered arrangement.

At least it had a mostly intact armchair and couch. Right? Yeah, so who care. Life is good.

“I mean, you’re lucky I found you. Hella lucky at that.”

The lack of a roof let the evening sun beamed down on you from the sky, heating up your skin and leaving a warm tingle as your fingers played with the loose threads of the chair, twirling them around your finger absentmindedly.

“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me? I said I was sorry for nearly leaving you behind last time. I even got you a new shirt to make up for it.” You huff in frustration, glaring at said shirt that fitted around your partner; a black and white abstract collage of spikey leaves artistically decorating the thin material, beautifully trimmed into what was now button up shirt that sported a deliciously deep v neckline. It was slightly revealing but not quite, just enough to give a hint of what was underneath but leave you wanting more.

“That shirt is in so much better condition than anything I’m wearing right now.” A scowl pulled at your lips as you regard the tattered t-shirt that clung to your skin, dirt discolouring the once yellow fabric into a murky brown and the pair of barely held together ripped jeans, denim threatened to fall off your thin waist even after being tied tightly by a belt.

You abruptly get up, palms slamming down on the arms of your chair, sudden movement causing ancient dusk to explode from deep within the fibres and into a thick cloud that surrounded you. You push past the brown haze of floating particles- ignoring the need to cough from the putrid smell- and close the distance between you and your companion.

“Listen here you ungrateful piece of shit! You don’t get to ignore me. I found you so I make the rules. I can leave you when and if I want. Capish?” Your voice breaks through the otherwise silent atmosphere before dissipating into the distance. Your eyes were hard with anger, veins bulging in your neck from the strain, as you glared at the unseeing eyes of your companion.

You blink, veins running cold as you realise your sudden outburst. It was uncalled for. Regret slowly filtered into your system, weighing you down like lead. You take deep slow breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and the roar pulsing in your ears.

“I’m sorry.” You voice is barely a whisper when you come through, a slight quiver at the last syllable and thick with guilt. The crimson in your cheeks fading as you settle down next to your companion on the couch, eyes shifting to gauge their reaction- or lack of one in this case.

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.” You joke, a small chuckle trying to defuse the tension that hung heavy in the air. Your hands betray the cheerfulness mask you donned, thumb rubbing the barcode inked into the skin of your left wrist, in a nervous habit that first formed in the lab. “I- uh- well, I forgive you too. Just because I like how handsome you and your stupidly symmetrical face are.”

There was no response. At least none out loud. In fact, there never was a reply out loud from your companion since you found them five years ago, and never would be. The only replies you earned were ones spoken to back of your mind, a deep voice echoing your subliminal thoughts back to you, answering your conscious questions. You companion, the top half of a male mannequin, would never grow a set of vocal cords to voice the replies you longed to actually hear.

If someone were to ever talk to you, question who it was you were talking to, you would have simply stated it was to yourself. Because that would mean you were never alone to begin with, never needing to talk to a humanoid piece of plastic. Right?

But there was no one else.

There no one left, no one ever since that happened six years ago.

“Anyway, let’s go. I want to see what that blinking light was from last night.” You announce as you get up from the two-seater, tossing on your backpack as you stand waiting for your partner to get up with you. You roll your eyes at the lack of movement in your peripheral view, head turning to throw a glare at its plastic form still seated on the couch. “Get up you lazy ass. Get up or I’ll carry you.”

You stand there for a moment longer, waiting for its plastic muscles to twitch under the heavy weight of your gaze. But your effects are yet again fruitless, the only signs of motion par your breathing was the dust dancing weightlessly in the air, illuminated by the setting sun as the specks float carelessly around you.

You sigh, giving up your side of the stalemate and pick up the oversized plastic excuse of a friend. The weak muscles of your arms ache under the burden, straining to produce a strong grip as you walk out onto the streets.

As you venture further into the deserted mass of torn buildings, further into the what could barely be recognised as Seoul, you reach the glass doors of a seemingly intact corporate building. The name of the facility standing tall and proud on the metal door frame, as if in celebration of its survival, almost unscathed par from the broken glass and a missing letter, the skyscraper was rather untouched.

“B-um-Bigit. HA. Sounds a lot like bigot, doesn’t it, Tae?” You muse, as you shift the plastic deadweight in your arms to a more comfortable position.

After exploring the bottom floors of building, going through countless office draws and lab cabinets, you filled up the most of your backpack with expired food items and multiple water bottles. Still, you had yet to find the source of the blinking lights you had seen last night.

“Maybe its further up?” You question out loud.

“Yeah, you’re right Tae, it must be one of the top floors. How else would I have seen it amongst the other buildings?” A grin splits your dry lips, tongue darting out to wet the cracked skin- ignoring the lingering taste of dirt.

“You’re so smart, bud, what would I do without you?”

You continue your journey up, scavenging through every nook and cranny of each floor before arriving at the top landing. A gasp leaves you lips, eyes widening as you look out from the doorway of the staircase and into the concrete floorplan. A glint of excitement sparked in your eyes, much like it did when you found a can of peaches.

The 16th floor was so different to the lower levels, barren like a construction site but shielded under large planes of glass and metal frames in a greenhouse-like roof. Moonlight filtered through the clear glass, illuminating the area in a milky wash of pale white and harsh shadows.

The grey concrete floor was littered with giant solar panels, all scattered methodically around three capsules that laid in the middle of everything. Walking forward, you trotted down the empty path that connected the doorway directly to the capsules, careful not to touch the electronics barricading you on either side.

The capsules were large, large enough to fit a person, you note to yourself as you walk past the first two. Or maybe a giant alligator, you never know.

You don’t bother inspecting two pods, both dark and most likely damaged as a large piece of metal beam speared the centre of one, a thick layer of dried green mould covered the cracked glass panels of the other, obscuring the view of what you assumed was the face of whoever it coffined. Not that you cared.

They were not of interest to you. Especially not when the last capsule vibrating with a low electronic hum. Small lights that were attached to the surface of pod pulsing, bright reds and whites flickers in the darkness as if demanding attention. And attention if caught.

You place Tae on the floor, hands steadying its plastic frame whilst your eyes were still glued to the flashing lights. “Wait here, Tae.” You tiptoed closer to the pod like a moth to fire, neck shifting as you crane you head to see above the capsule before you carefully approached it.

A yellow screen blinked on and off at the centre of the capsule. Bold black lettering fizzing from sparking pixels. You narrow your eyes, brows furrowing in concentration as you focused on trying to decipher the message. After a handful of seconds, you make out the warning.

Emergency- press red button for capsule ejection. Subject -

A hand moves to lift a clear plastic cap, hovering over the large obnoxiously red button, hesitant to push it as instructed.

Instead, you hand reaches to swipe off the sheet of debris covering the glass face panel. Eyes sweeping the sleeping form of the person trapped in the metal pod. The moonlight casting soft lighting against their prominent features. Their eyes were closed, long eyelashes fanning high cheekbones, thick brows tucked under gently tousled hair. Corking your head to the side, you continued to admire the pillowy shape of their plush lips, imagining the way the heart shaped flesh would move as it talked.

“Kim Taehyung.” The name from the screen rolling off your tongue seamlessly. Your lips twitching into a soft smile, your friend of five years long forgotten in the mass of solar panels. “I found you. Will you be my friend?”

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 3: Winding Me Up Inside

Story: Why Can’t This Be Love

Click to read on Archive

Art of Eddie and Richie by @whatidoisxsecret

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

___

Eddie honked profusely at the car in front of him. Everyone had decided it was idiot day on the road as one of the bridges was down from a car fire. People were cutting him off or making illegal u-turns that almost hit his car. He ended up pulling over to grab a drink at a restaurant. He wasn’t very well going to die tonight if he could calm his nerves with alcohol instead. It was unfortunate that he left his pills at home, knowing they could calm him immediately but a gin and prune juice, his healthy alcoholic beverage of choice, would have to do the trick. 

About a month had gone by since ‘The Arrangement’, something Richie had started calling their pretend dating. Eddie would’ve rather called it ‘The Nightmare’ but Richie wanted a positive outlook on the situation. 

Eddie eyed a grungy bar next to a pizza joint that looked perfect to grab a cheap drink. However, upon further observation, there was a rainbow flag sticking out above the bar’s entrance. He blinked at it, took a step forward, then froze. His body had seized up at the prospect of going in.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there but a booming voice said, “You in or out?” Tossing him from a temporary mind blank.

“Huh?” Eddie focused on the bouncer standing by the entrance, who was ripped and large. He never understood having such intimidating people be the first greeting you encounter before entering a bar or club. Don’t these businesses want people to come in? “Oh...er...no no. Just searching for a place to drink.” 

“Well, this is a bar.” The man eyed Eddie up and down, giving the impression of being humanly x-rayed. “Drinking is the main activity...among other things.” There was some prolonged eye contact between them that dried Eddie’s throat into a Sahara desert.

Eddie nodded shifting forward. He reached for his wallet, which had his ID, but his hand merely hovered over his slack's front pocket. 

“Maybe another time?” The man suggested with a lighter tone. Eddie straightened up, nodded and walked away. 

He just failed at that pretty spectacularly. What would Richie think? Probably that he was a chicken. This had been an extra hard month. With the realization, he may have stronger feelings toward guys than he had ever admitted to himself. He had stopped sleeping, barely ate, and secluded himself more. 

Suddenly, the demise of his relationship with Myra was making more sense. When she used to touch him sensually, his skin crawled. He assumed that was from the years of his mother convincing him the world was a germ-infested blackhole, girls were dirty, and how he could never truly be clean. Except he rarely felt that way when Richie touched him. Or any of his friends. Sure, they had known each other for years, but he knew Myra for a long time too and it didn’t settle into a comfortableness that relationships were meant. 

He tended to resist Myra’s kisses, fake not feeling good to get out of sex, and pushed her away constantly. Their break up had been devastating. At the time he believed it was because the love of his life left him. Now he knew the truth. 

Eddie eventually got a drink at a bar a few blocks away. The drink refreshed and calmed him immediately. It’s funny how certain things relaxed him right away because he’d conditioned himself to feel that way. His mind began thinking about tomorrow, a chilling dread running up his neck. He scratched at the nape even though nothing truly itched. 

He was seeing his friends for a pre-engagement party celebration. Just the seven of them. The thought almost made him break out into sweats. He downed his drink and ordered another. Usually, he would be extremely excited and thrilled to see the losers club, except the next step in the arrangement, was occurring. Eddie had to come out collectively to the group. A fake coming out but that fakeness was becoming authentic with every passing moment. 

He wished there was someone he could talk this out with. There was Mike, but that felt wrong somehow. The one person he wanted to tell was Richie. What would he even say? There was a nightmare scenario he replayed every day that Richie would laugh in his face, which logically he would never do but Eddie’s attempts at controlling his imagination have never come to fruition. 

While he was absently stirring his drink, his phone started ringing. A picture popped up on his screen of Richie lifting a screaming/laughing Eddie from behind. He took an extra second to remember the joyful memory, running a finger over the picture then answered. 

He sighed into the phone, “Hey, Rich.” 

“Where you at, gumdrop?” said Richie with an obvious smile in his voice.

“A bar. The traffic was crap, so I am waiting it out.” 

“What’re you wearing?” He said suggestively.

Eddie frowned, huffing out, “Work clothes, why?” 

Richie clicked his tongue, “Cause you are supposed to be at Beverly and Ben’s celebration extravaganza in,” quick pause where Eddie figured Richie was looking at his phone for the time, “20 minutes.” 

“No, it is tomorrow.” Eddie insisted.

“No, my cutie patootie Eds, it is today.” 

“No,” He said slowly. “It’s on Friday, you turd.” 

A laugh came through the phone, “Today IS Friday.” 

Eddie paused as horror sunk in fast and deep. “Oh shit…”

“Yeah, so see you at the restaurant!” Richie hung up, leaving Eddie to his panic.

He slapped down a $20 on the bar counter, despite the drink being less than half that and bolted out the door. He ran past the bouncer who shouted, “Don’t trip, kid!”

His car turned on with a roar then he zoomed out of the space. The traffic had significantly cleared which worked in his favor as his car swerved around dangerously. His heart pounded with adrenaline. When he pulled up in front of the restaurant, Richie was standing on the curb smoking a cigarette. 

Eddie gave the valet his car keys, not even thinking about how much that would cost him at the end of the night, and hurried over to his friend. 

“The prodigal son has returned!” Richie tossed the second half of his cigarette on the ground, stomping it out for good measure. As Eddie neared Richie wrapped an arm around his shoulders pulling them close together. The smell of smoke was both overwhelming and familiar. As much as Eddie despised the disgusting habit, he was so used to it that he could brush it off. 

Eddie pushed on his chest to free himself a little but not enough to break contact. “I can’t believe I fucking forgot.” 

“Take a minute to breathe, Eds. Where’s your head been at lately?” Richie asked in what he probably thought was a casual tone, except, Eddie knew better. His friend was really asking ‘Where have you been?' or 'Why are you isolating yourself?’. 

Isolation was the only solution for hiding his emotions, which had been many and increasing each day he spent alone with his thoughts. 

Instead of answering the question, Eddie shrugged and smiled lightly. 

Richie reached up and pinched Eddie’s cheek with a “Cute, cute, cute!”

“Stop it, I hate that!” 

He laughed, “You ready to do this?” 

Eddie took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, “I can’t do this.” 

“You CAN do this!” said Richie with excitement. “Just be yourself.”

“Fake coming out to my friends is the worst idea we’ve ever had. It is wrong.”

“What do you suggest then?”

Eddie nervously glanced at his feet, “I think we should just out ourselves to Bill like we planned next.”

“You think they are going to believe Bill without any pretense? No, you have to come out and it has to be tonight since it’ll be the only time we are all together before Beverly and Ben’s engagement party. If you steal her thunder in any way, she will murder. Who she’ll murder is unclear but it starts with Ed and ends with die. Hey! That was more clever than I intended.”

Eddie swallowed, “Alright, but Richie…”

He made a tracing motion toward the ground  “There will be a chalk shaped Eddie on the ground with Beverly DNA everywhere. It’s going to work, Eds. I promise.”

“Don’t call me, Eds. Listen, Rich I…”

“Stop trying to come up with excuses! It’s going to be fine.”

“No, Richie! Just shut up a second!” His heart was beating out of his chest, he had to tell Richie what he had been going through or everything could be ruined. He had to give him an out if he wanted. Eddie shrugged off Richie’s arm, so they were facing each other. “I’ve been thinking that I...I…”

“Well, spit it out Eds. Thinking what?” 

“I THINK I MIGHT ACTUALLY LIKE GUYS!”

Richie stood shocked and silent at first, just staring. Those ice-blue eyes hiding secrets and judgments that Eddie desperately wanted to hear aloud. Tears had caught in Eddie’s eyes which he blinked away quickly. “Well! Don’t just stand there, asshole! Say SOMETHING!” He demanded. 

“I...I…” Richie sputtered face turning crimson red. 

“Well, spit it out, Trashmouth.” mocked Eddie.

“I do too.” He gasped out. 

It was Eddie’s turn to stare in silence. “Sorry, I think I went temporarily insane. Repeat that?”

“I like guys, too. I have since college.” Richie sighed with relief. “Maybe longer.”

“What? You have?” This revelation made Eddie take a step back. “I had no idea.”

“Not relevant information to disclose.” Shrugged Richie. 

Eddie gave a confused look then lowered his eyes skeptically, “This isn’t a joke, Richie. I actually believe I am gay.”

“You're the one who shoved a rainbow cake with sprinkles on top of my bisexual pie.” Richie’s eyes twinkled. 

“Wow,” A smile broke out across both their faces, pure joy at the realization that they weren’t alone. They had never been alone. “What were the chances that 2 out of the 7 of us friends would be gay.” 

They stood there, in a rare silence, watching each other with a newfound comradery that didn’t seem possible after 20 years of friendship. Richie grabbed Eddie’s forearm and pulled him in for a hug, which was returned 10 fold. Tears that he forgot to keep holding in fell into the side of Richie’s neck. His emotions were on a rollercoaster with no chance of stopping. He faintly heard Richie say, “Eddie, I…”

He didn’t get to finish what he planned to say because a “Richie! Eddie! W-what’s the hold up?” Interrupted them. They quickly broke their embrace as Bill appeared beside them. He looked calm despite a bit of impatience in his eyes, then saw their faces and concern washed over him immediately. 

Bill put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, the weight very comforting. “Everything ok?” He reached in his pocket and took out a travel tissue pack. Eddie gave a watery giggle, taking one and blowing his nose. 

“Yeah, Big Bill,” said Eddie. “Everything’s great.” And he found that his words were true.

After a few more breathes and checking himself in the selfie camera of his phone, Eddie felt ready to face his friends. The three men walked into the restaurant, heading to a back room that Ben reserved for the occasion. 

“Congrats to the couple!” Richie shouted as he bounded over to bear hug and lift Beverly off her feet. She laughed swatting at him, “Let me go you dorkface!” 

“Dorkface!” Exclaimed Richie. “Of all the sass to receive from your dude of honor.” 

Eddie watched the exchange warmly. Ben patted him on the back. “Traffic?” 

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Eddie said embarrassed. “Tons.” 

“There was a car fire and crash on the bridge.” Came the dry, toneless voice of Stanley Uris. “Surprised it wasn’t you Eddie, with all your road rage.”

Eddie gave a pout in Stanley’s direction but walked over to his friend for a handshake and a hug. “Such a kind, warm greeting from you Stan. I miss you, too.” 

“Where’ve you been lately?” He sounded unperturbed, but he wouldn’t ask if there wasn’t a genuine concern.

“Oh ya know,” Eddie trailed off with a shrug. Stanley lifted an eyebrow but didn’t push it, for now at least.

Eddie started to seat himself between Stanley and Ben when Richie grabbed his collar jerking him backward. “Scoot over, Stan the man.” 

Stanley rolled his eyes, “No.” 

“Why?” asked Richie.

“Because I am comfortable here.” 

“You’re being a stinker, Stanley. Move to the seat next to Ben. You like Ben, don’t you?” 

“Of course I…”

Richie looked right at Ben, “Too bad for you, Benny boy, it seems Stanley doesn’t like you anymore.” 

“Beep- beep, Richie,” Beverly warned while drinking a glass of wine and placing a hand on Ben’s arm. 

“I’m just saying it is suspect that the best man doesn’t want to sit next to the groom.” 

“He’s not a groom until the wedding day.” Stanley insisted. “And I am already sitting…” 

“Richie isn’t gonna let it go, Stan. Just move over one.” said Bill with strong finality. None of the losers liked to admit anymore that Bill remained the group’s leader even into adulthood. But when he made a request it was usually followed with little argument. Eddie figured it didn’t matter how independent any of them grew up to be, Bill still held a controlling rope over them. Something Stanley was known to resent.

He moved over a seat as Eddie gave an apologetic look at every one. Getting between Richie and Stanley tended to end in him being yelled at, so he rarely bothered anymore. Besides, he bickered with Richie more than anyone else so Stanley had no room to complain. 

Richie glanced around the room realizing they had a missing loser. “Where’s Mike?” 

“Bathroom,” Responded Beverly, still nursing her drink. “How was work, Eddie?” 

“Fine, I guess.” The last thing he wanted to talk about, except his mother, was his boring job. “An econ student was hired as my intern, which makes me think I’ve finally made it.” 

“Poor bastard is in for a world of ribbing by all your accounting co-workers,” said Richie, bumping Eddie’s shoulder. 

Eddie laughed, “Oh, I already made a joke at him today. Why do economists exist?” He scanned around the table then opened his mouth to answer. 

Mike’s voice interrupted from the door of the private room, “So accountants have someone to laugh at.”

“Mike!” whined Eddie. “You stole my punch line.”

“Sorry, Eddie.” He took his seat between Beverly and Bill. 

Stanley smirked, “You practiced that joke didn’t you.” 

“Shut up,” Eddie groaned. “How was your trip, Ben?” 

“Not the best,” Ben sighed, he wore a deprecating grin. No matter the story, Ben always had some kind of upturned smile, it was a unique quality. Considering most people told Eddie he had sad eyes, being able to smile at all times would be an excellent trait. “I didn’t leave early enough like I usually do because it was so early in the morning. I left my water bottle in the rental car they got me, then ran from TSA to the gate, was in my seat when I realized the sweater Bev got me for my birthday was back at security.” 

Beverly rubbed his back soothingly, “We can get you new ones of both those things.”

“I know, it’s just a bummer because they were special items before I lost them.” Eddie understood. Ben and he shared the same mentality about their personal items, each thing they owned held a nice memory. He knew that the water bottle was one Ben got from his job after the big promotion, he could ask for another one but it wouldn’t be the same as the moment he received the gift. The feeling of pride and achievement all through a meaningless material item. 

“Well, lucky for you, Ben.” Richie pulled out something from his bag, handing it across the table to Ben. “I had these made for everyone.” Richie continued grabbing water bottles from his bag, passing them around. 

“This is so nice, Rich!” said Beverly. She laughed at the label. Eddie looked down at his seeing ‘#TeamBenverly’. It was great quality, a platted maroon paint covered the bottle with the lettering in a bold white. 

“I still have the keychain you gave us for my bachelor party.” said Bill.

“That’s right!” Mike chimed in. “What does it say again?” 

“Big Bill’s Bitchin’ Bachelor Bash.” Stanley drawled. “Kinda clever.” 

Richie grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, making Eddie almost jump in confusion. He stared at Richie, who was clutching his heart in mock shock, “A compliment? I don’t think I can handle that from you, Stanley Urine.” 

“I take it back,” said Stanley, “You don’t have any cleverness. Only idiocy.” 

“Hmmmm, insults,” Richie leaned in front of Eddie, still holding his shoulder as his face got closer to an unamused Stanley. “They feed my very soul.” 

Eddie placed his hand over Richie’s face and pushed him backward the metal of his glasses digging into Eddie’s hand, “Your soul has a healthy appetite then.” 

“Oof, your words fill me up most, Eds.” 

“Eds is a dumb nickname and you know it.” 

“Alright, alright!” Mike called the attention toward him. “Let’s hear from Ben and Beverly. A decade of being together and now you’re tying the knot. How does it feel?” 

Ben looked to Beverly, who smiled sweetly at him. “Feels perfect,” said Ben simply, but in those two words, he expressed years worth of working toward friendship and partnership that went beyond infatuation. “I’m so happy. And even happier to have my best friends around to celebrate.” 

“This wedding is really about coming together,” started Beverly, “With our friends, the family we’ve chosen, to celebrate love. I think what we have with all of you is rare and...” 

Eddie thought deeply about her phrasing ‘the family we’ve chosen’. He had many issues with his mother, different than Beverly’s father problems but they both came from toxic environments. Kindred spirits in a dark and twisted way. 

With all his thoughts lately, he had pushed down how his mother would react. He may never tell her, if he could help it. Her religious views left no room for tolerance on the subject. 

He shoved thinking about his mother deep in a box in his brain and focused on Beverly, who was still speaking, “...so just thank you for being there for us. Anyway, let’s fucking celebrate!” 

They all cheered, Eddie looking around with a smile on his face. With his ‘chosen family’ he could trust them to love him no matter what. 

As the night wore on with lots of laughs, food, and stories. Ben brought up the story of when he finally got the courage to ask out Beverly, “I was waiting outside of school, sweating profusely, despite wearing 2 sweaters…”

“You always wore so many layers!” said Bill laughing. 

“Well, when you are fat and subconscious, that’s how you hide it.” Ben said, voice lowering a bit in embarrassment. 

“Ben Handsome now shows off his true glory and beauty.” said Richie with a wink. “Just the way I like it.”

“Beep- beep, Richie.” Blushed Ben. “As I was saying, I waited outside and she approached me like in slow motion. I thought I was going to throw up. As I opened my mouth to say something she said,” He motioned for Beverly to continue the story. 

She giggled, “I said, ‘Ben, let’s go to prom together’. His face drained of color and he passed out.” The whole room erupted in laughs. “I..I was knocked to the ground!” Beverly tried to say through gleeful tears, “He fell forward into me.” 

“You were a very pleasant landing.” Ben smiled in mortification. 

“You planning to faint at your wedding too?” said Stanley, “As your best man, I will need to prepare.” 

“No, I’m not. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” said Richie. “I will have a fainting couch ready as a precaution.”

“You’ll probably just jump in front of Beverly and take one for the team,” piped Eddie.

“Speaking of the wedding,” Stanely rounded on Eddie and Richie. A dread bubbled in Eddie’s stomach. “You two having to bring dates is the smartest rule. I should have thought of that for my wedding.” 

Richie threw his napkin at Stanley’s face, “Don’t make me take YOU as my date Stan the man.” 

“You could never get this, Trashmouth.” 

“I can get whoever I want. Right, Eds?” 

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie mumbled. “While we are on the subject, just so no one is surprised, I might bring someone who none of you would expect.” Eddie felt his knee being squeezed from under the table. It took him a moment to realize it was Richie’s hand, he was giving a warning. Most likely telling him to keep the details limited, but Eddie hoped it was a touch for encouragement.

“Please, don’t bring Myra.” said Mike making the group groan collectively. 

“Now, that would be unexpected.” Richie snickered.

“Eddie, you’re not actually thinking…” said Bill seriously. “Beverly, if they get back together I blame you.” 

“Me?!” Beverly opened her mouth to fight but Eddie interrupted. 

“Hello! Back to me, losers. I am not bringing Myra. I am not even interested in women!” The words slipped out quick, and he wished they could be suctioned into his mouth once more. 

They went quiet, as the news hit them. Mike was smiling at Eddie. He felt his bravery trickling into cowardice the longer none of them said anything. 

“S-so does this mean,” began Bill. “That you-you’re g-“

“Gay? Yes, stuttering Bill.” Richie answered seeming to be frustrated by Bill’s condition for the first time in a long time. Then a chair screeched out and Beverly ran around the table, slamming herself into Eddie. 

Her soft hair tickled his neck, his heart was calming down from her sudden show of affection. He placed a hand on the arm she slung over his chest. Richie’s hand hadn’t left his knee either. Everyone else’s reactions were fairly standard, awkward congratulations or they were proud of him, all expected. The surprising reaction was Stanley, perhaps because he didn’t react at all. He was silent for the rest of the evening. 

As they all stood outside saying goodbyes, Stanley seemed to linger a little aways from Eddie. He waited for the rest to leave, Richie was the last to hug him and head to his car. He wandered toward Stanley hesitantly. The taller man was twisting his key in hand repetitively, tapping his foot methodically. 

“So,” Eddie begun lightly, “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah,” answered Stanley stiffly. Eddie cocked his head to the side trying to meet his friend’s eyes, then gave up turning to leave. “How do you know?” Came his voice clearly from behind.

Eddie turned around, a few paces away. “Know what, Stan?”

“That you’re into guys.” 

“Because I just do?”

“How long have you known?” 

“Er...that’s more complicated. I mean I’ve been sitting on it for a month but..”

“A month?” interrupted Stanley, he was getting pink in the cheeks. “You’ve known a month and are coming out. That’s not enough time to know.” 

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie was trying to keep his voice calm, he could feel that tingle of rage that surges in him when he feels attacked.

“Have you ever been with a guy?” 

“What does that have to do with knowing whether I am gay? I know that every time I’ve thought of girls it hasn’t been the same as with guys. Or how with Myra...” 

“Ok, yeah! Myra!” He rose his voice like winning some kind of twisted victory. “You were with her for a year and you really didn’t know?”

“Stan, you’re being a jackass.” 

“I am trying to understand why you kept this from us?” 

“From YOU, you mean? Stan, I didn’t keep it from anyone. I was figuring out my shit, then I talked about it with Mike and…”

“You told Mike first?” 

“Um...no…” He caught himself quickly. “I told Richie first then Mike.” 

A hurt flashed over Stanley’s eyes that Eddie hadn’t seen in years. “You told them before me?” 

“Stan...come on. I told the rest of you at the same time. It was just easier to tell them at the time.” 

“I’ve known you as long as Richie has. Much longer than Mike.”

“It’s not about that!” Eddie was at a loss. This was getting nowhere. “I don’t know what to say, Stan. I’m not going to apologize.” 

“There is nothing to apologize for.”

“Then why are you fighting with me like there is?” 

Stanley remained silent. His arguments lost on his tongue. “I am tired. I will talk to you later.” And he walked away. Eddie stood there, stomach twisting the food inside uncomfortably, eyes watery from the sadness creeping in his head.

_________

Thanks for the patience for the new chapter! Longer one cause I apparently had a lot to get through. I am starting a second job soon, but I will keep working on the next chapter as inspiration hits. Don't forget to subscribe!

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[loftec]

I was really hoping to update NTW this weekend, but it’s looking less and less likely... so, here’s something else.

I found an alternate season 6/7 thing I started outlining when that whole mess went down, like just ideas for how Ian’s storyline could have worked out after season 5 (I would have included the other characters too, but honestly I don’t know what they’ve been up to since I stopped watching. Fiona bought a building. For some reason. I don’t want to know.).

So I’ve added some stuff for season 8 and 9, and since I’m probably never going to write it I thought I’d just share it for laughs.

May the 4th be with you!

Alt Shameless after season 5

Ian is on his meds and since he broke up with Mickey because he thought he’d be better off alone, he doesn’t go looking for new boyfriends.

He sleeps around a lot though.

He doesn’t have a lot of storyline, because he’s mostly clammed up and moping around, and his family keep assuming that it’s because of his meds.

Maybe four episodes in, something happens at work that makes Ian seek out an LGBT+ group, where he meets Trevor at a charity event. They work together all day and really hit it off, they have some similar interests (interests!), and they end up talking about a lot of things (things!). At the end of the day, Trevor asks him out, and Ian says yes before he’s remembered that he doesn’t do that stuff.

He’s nervous about the date and drinks a couple of beers before Trevor even shows up, he gets piss drunk and wakes up the next day in a strange room.

It’s Trevor’s bedroom, and Trevor comes in with coffee, telling him that Ian was pretty much drunk when he showed up and barely able to stand on his own two legs by the time they left. He doesn’t know where he lives, so he took him home for the night.

Ian tells him about being on meds, and that’s why he got so drunk so fast.

Trevor thinks he could have just told him, and Ian says his mental illness pretty much was the reason his old relationship didn’t work out.

Trevor asks if it was Mickey. Ian wonders what Trevor knows about it.

“You may have mentioned him last night.”

Ian says yeah, and is quick to correct him when Trevor assumes that it was Mickey who left.

“I broke up with him, thought it was the best for the both of us at the time… also don’t think I expected it to last. We usually find our way back.”

“But not this time?”

“He’s in prison. Fifteen years.”

It’s the first time he says it out loud.

Trevor says he’s not interested in starting a relationship with someone who’s clearly still in love with their ex (and Ian kinda smiles, because it’s true and it’s so nice that someone else can see it and accept it and take it seriously). But, he says, you do look like you could use a friend, and not to brag, but I make an excellent friend. He does the cheesy handshake, re-introduction thing (where we find out his last name!) and they agree to be friends.

(Turns out Trevor is estranged from his family, and after maybe a shaky start, he finds a natural spot in the Gallagher clan and becomes part of some of the other plot points throughout the season.)

Ian’s storylines can be about his work, and about stuff happening at the LGBT+ youth center, and they get into hijinks, but nothing super serious (or illegal!!).

Ian at some point has a big moment with Yevgeny, where he comes to terms with no longer being a parent, and maybe even thinking that it’s for the best. (Svetlana and her thrupple storyline can basically be the same, but end differently. With the three of them happy and together, and Yevgeny thinking of Kev as his dad. It’s not ideal, but neither is Yev being sad about his dad being in prison.) Maybe Ian talks to Svetlana about Mickey, maybe finding out for the first time that they aren’t married anymore. We don’t find out what Ian thinks or feels about this.

Throughout the second half of the season. Whenever the Gallaghers gather and Ian isn’t there, they wonder where he is and try to reach him, letting it go when he doesn’t answer.

But after it happens too many times to be a coincidence, they start wondering. Maybe Lip and Fiona talk about it, worrying about Ian having a low, or a high, but not knowing if they should intervene.

Lip talks to Trevor, and tells him more about Ian’s bipolar. Trevor denies having noticed anything going on, and maybe even questions if Lip has any right telling him Ian’s personal stuff.

(Also, I think it would be really nice for Trevor to have a romantic/sexy storyline... so I wouldn’t mind Trevor and Ian starting a friends with benefits relationship, deciding on the terms of it before they start it. Or, Trevor starts a relationship with someone else. Depends on how much drama one wants. Trevor could develop unrequited feelings. If one wants. But personally I think it would be more fun for everyone involved if he was allowed to fall in love with someone else.)

Last episode of the season, they’ve had some big plot point resolved by the Gallaghers getting together and working it out as a goddamned team, and they’re all sitting on the porch steps when a police car stops outside their house.

The officer tells them that Ian is on record as having visited Mickey in prison, and Lip is like, yeah, maybe a couple of times a year ago, what’s that got to do with anything? And the officer says, no, he’s visited once a week for the past six months. And Mickey has escaped. And they have a warrant to search their house.

The Gallaghers sit packed together on the couch watching the news as the officers search through the house, and on the TV we get the whole scoop. There has been a massive prison break and like 40 highly dangerous inmates have escaped, Mickey amongst them.

BOOM. Credits.

Season seven.

Throughout the season, we get like comedic side story lines about the police and the escaped inmates basically roaming the streets. Potentially outrageous and lots of opportunity to oscillate between slapstick comedy and high-stakes drama.

Ian waits for Mickey to contact him, but it doesn’t happen until maybe a couple of episodes in. TENSION.

Ian has other storylines through the season, but mainly it ends up being his secret rendezvous (plural, frequent, in-depth, sexy) with Mickey where they get to spend time together, talk. Bonus if they try to “be friends” for a while, because they don’t talk about the important stuff and they don’t know where they have each other, and they don’t know what’s going to happen. It doesn’t last long, culminating in an explosively passionate love scene.

At some point, Ian is approached by an FBI agent, telling him they have a deal for Mickey if he turns himself in and gives them info on the other escapees. Ian says he’s not in contact with Mickey and even if he was, Mickey would never snitch.

Later on, he talks to Mickey about their future. Mickey explains that the gang he joined in prison are escaping across the border to Mexico, and he has to go with them. Ian says he’ll come with Mickey, but Mickey is firmly against it.

He wants Ian to come with him, of course, but he doesn’t want that life for Ian. No security, a life of crime, on the lam. He kind of gets why Ian broke up with him, now, if this is anything like what he felt at the time, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Ian pleads with him, telling him that breaking up is something he’s only ever regretted since he did it.

Yeah, but what other choice have we got?

Ian tells him about the deal, and takes out two gold bands he’s bought from a pawnshop. If they get married, they can be put in the witness protection program together, and start over.

Mickey agrees, to Ian’s great surprise, and they end the season being shipped off to an unknown location as the busload of prisoners get apprehended on the way to Mexico (cartoonish, but with a little bit of work and research, maybe could be an acceptably goofy and almost realistic plot point).

(For Drama, Mickey could be with the prisoners when they’re apprehended, and he’s shot dead by the police. Cut to Ian being in the ambulance that picks him up, and Mickey is still sitting in his body bag, all bloodied, as they suck face and the FBI drive them to their new location.)

Season 8

Ian and Mickey try to start a new life and it turns completely ridiculous (like, imagine a mix between IASIP where Mac and Dennis are in the house with the Mac & Cheese mixed with like, Suburgatory, or Weeds, or whatever. Two gay South Side kids suddenly trying to make a life for themselves in some middle class suburb somewhere, and they hate it and it all goes to shit. But they love each other and get each other through it.)

The hardship they face in their new life doesn’t come from them, (it’s from situations and circumstance, and other people being impossible) and every time something happens it only leads them to break down another barrier by eventually talking about their feelings and hopes for the future, and thoughts about the past. And I want them specifically to talk about Yevgeny, how hard it was for Mickey to feel anything good about him at first, but now he misses him like he’s missing a limb. Them trying to be a wholesome couple in a suburb somewhere is an unmitigated disaster, but it does help them get a lot closer to each other and work through their problems, and their past.

And then through some Shameless™ retcon, something suddenly makes it possible for them to return back home. Or maybe they’re just like, fuck this, is there anyone stopping us from just grabbing our shit and going home?? No. So they do.

Yevgeny is part of the reason why they return. They move in to the apartment above the Alibi at first, and Mickey can work with Svetlana in the bar and cook up semi-illegal side-hustles with Kev. 

Everybody they know are on their side, denying everything in true South Side style if anyone asks about them, once again solidifying the core concept of the show; we take care of family.

The whole thing where they’re possibly in danger from the Mexican cartel looking to exact revenge for Mickey snitching (if they ever find out that he’s alive) could be played for laughs and brushed off, until it might come back and create more Drama in a later season, if needed, before being permanently resolved.

Characters thinking they’re invincible and being stupid about stuff like this is fine, I think, if they do it for a good reason.

[ten-and-donna]

ALL 53 :V

OH GOD HERE WE GO :V

1. What do you put on hotdogs? Just ketchup and mustard. This gal doesn’t have the patience or the will to attempt to handle an overladen hot dog.

2. Do you say “anticlimatic” or “anticlimactic”? “Anticlimactic”, and it genuinely pained me to write “anticlimatic”.

3. Do you check flyers before grocery shopping? No, I don’t, but honestly, I probably should.

4. Blue, black, or some other color pen ink? Black usually, but blue if it’s the only one available.

5. Do you use your parking brake? YES. I have seen what happens when that thing isn’t used. Not pretty. Not fun. Parking brake for me, please.

6. Look to your left. How many framed pictures are there on the wall? On the wall, none. There’s one sitting on top of a bin, though. (signed picture of Orlando Bloom as Legolas. I had a crush.)

7. Do you know how to play chess? Yes. The real question is “Can I play well?” to which the answer is a resounding NOOOOOOOOOO.

8. How often do you clean the interior of your car? Not often at all, seeing as I don’t have one anymore.

9. Do you ever read the last few pages first? Never on purpose, but I leaf through pages idly and sometimes spoil things for myself like a NOOB.

10. Ever fallen in the shower? YES, and lemme tell you, THAT SHIT HURTS.

11. On a scale of 1-10, how likely are you to swear at other drivers? PRETTY FUCKIN’ LIKELY, ‘SPECIALLY IF THEY DON’T USE THEIR GODDAMN BLINKERS!

12. What’s the worst thing you’ve called someone you cared about? I hate to admit it, but I have called an ex (who I was dating at the time) a bitch, though in recent years I have made sure to check my emotions at the door in very tense moments, so I thankfully have avoided that kind of insult.

13. Do you have a Snuggie? A Snuggie? In this economy? Lol nope.

14. Are you allergic to anything? OH LORDY AM I! Three types of grass, two types of tree, latex, codeine, and POSSIBLY FRICKLE-FRACKIN’ GLUTEN.

15.  Do you have any TV shows on DVD? I have the first season of Criminal Minds, which I still count among the greatest seasons of television ever created.

16. How many times do you hit the snooze button before getting out of bed? Out? of? bed? What is this “out of bed” you speak of? No but seriously, I hit that shit at least twice.

17. Ever driven away in anger? Can’t say for sure, but I’m an angry person, so probably.

18. What’s your favorite freezie color? BLUE ALL THE WAY

19. Are you a vegetarian? Vegan, in fact, about five-and-a-half years running.

20. Do you have a garbage receptacle beside you? What’s on top? not directly beside, but a couple feet away, and nothing but the lid.

21. Do you cross out your mistakes or erase/whiteout them? It depends. If I’m using pen, I’ll cross them out. Pencil, I’ll erase. If it’s important though, like a card or a letter, I’ll usually start all the way over on a sheet/card.

22. Ever torn something up that you instantly knew was too important for such treatment? Almost guaranteed, but I don’t recall any instance in particular.

23. Do you think that things will get better? Okay well that’s an interesting thing to ask, because yes and no. I’ve dealt with depression all my life, and am struggling particularly recently, so my instant answer is “no are you kidding?” but the fact that I’m able to nail that down as a symptom of my depression means that logically I am able to say “yes, absolutely, in time”.

24. Do you have an unpopular opinion? Oh shit, an unpopular opinion? On Tumblr? Do you want me to be banished? No but seriously, “unpopular” is so subjective, and honestly, I’ve stopped giving two flying fucks what’s a “popular opinion”, which I wholeheartedly encourage amongst all my followers. Don’t care what’s “popular”. Care what’s right. But if I must: “health days” at businesses, where they shut down elevators for the day to “promote exercise” should be illegal, period, end of sentence.

25. What’s your favorite quote? I honestly have so many quotes that I love. So many. If I really gotta choose, it’s actually a pretty simple one, from my favorite book of all time, The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss. ““Yes, I suppose I am,” Kvothe said, and his voice had iron in it.” I won’t say any more on the context. It just sticks with me even all these years later, “and his voice had iron in it” LIKE HOW AWESOME IS THAT WORD CHOICE?

26. Did you/are you going to prom? Yes, I did, three years, actually. I was dating someone one year ahead of me and was able to go to her junior prom when I was a sophomore. Not nearly all it’s cracked up to be.

27. What’s the most physically painful thing you’ve ever experienced? One night, a few years ago, I was lying in bed, and literally all of a sudden, I had the sharpest pain in my stomach. I was doubled over. I was cursing at my mom in pain. I was in tears. Went to the emergency room. NO ONE EVER KNEW WHAT WAS WRONG. Never happened again. Freaks me out to this day.

28. What’s the most emotionally/mentally painful thing you’ve ever experienced? Falling in love with someone who didn’t fall in love with me.

29. Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? Well, I played a part in the saving of one life, but I wouldn’t put it so directly.

30. What’s your favorite book genre? FANTASYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

31. Did you like “Gigli”? Be honest. Honestly, never saw it. Don’t care. If I don’t ever see it, I won’t count it a loss.

32. Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? Walked? No. Wheeled? Yes. I mean, that is how one leaves a movie, is it not? Otherwise, I’d still be in the theatre for Lion King. Have I ever wheeled out in the middle of the movie? Probably, but I don’t recall (do you notice something about me? I don’t remember shit well)

33. Do you peek between your fingers during the scary scenes? NOPE! I’m either glued to it or muh eyes are SHUT TIGHT.

34. What was your reaction to Tatum getting killed whilst stuck in the pet door in Scream? Never saw it, not gonna.

35. Do dogs like you? They’re often scared of my wheelchair, especially small ones, but if they can get past it, they love me.

36. Would you say you project an air of authority? Not even close, y’all. Not even close.

37. Do people listen when you speak? The people I keep around do.

38. How are your elbows? Are they okay? Dry as hell in summer and anxious for the return of Stranger Things, but otherwise fine.

39. What is one thing that you do exceptionally well? Be honest. Writing. I love it, and when I have the spoons, it’s all I wanna do, so I’ve gotten pretty dern talented if I do say so myself.

40. Do you use torrents? HOW DARE YOU INSINUATE SUCH DISHONOR UPON MY NAME?

41. When was the last time you paid for music? Technically, this month, when my Spotify subscription was renewed.

42. Are you addicted to technology? I’ve never been diagnosed with it officially, but I don’t like to rule things like that out. Anything is possible.

43. Pick a person (you don't need to give their name). How do you feel about them? Be as honest as you can get yourself to be. Okay so I got this friendo I met on here (super specific, I know) but like, they’re an incredible badass, and honestly every time they post anything, it makes me smile and idk I love them so much and they’re an incredible listener, and adorable, and kind, and always inspiring me to push through. They go through a lot of shit, but they’re always looking forward, and I think that is an amazing way to be.

44. Do you check your computer's dictionary for the definition of words you'd otherwise feel confident about using during in-person interactions? Just to be sure? Oh god, not nearly as often as I should.

45. How heavily do you rely on spellcheck and autocorrect? When typing on a computer, not much. on my phone, a helluva lot.

46. Have you ever gotten into an argument on the internet? Did you win? I don’t go into arguments looking for “wins”. I look to stick to what I know to be true, try to open myself to the possibility that I’m not, and being as close to true as possible by the end of the encounter.

47. Do you pause movies/TV shows if you have to go to the bathroom or the kitchen, or do you just let them keep playing? It depends on whether I’ve seen it before. If so, I’ll probably let it run. If not, you bet your ass I’m pausing.

48. If you use a regular alarm clock, do you have it set to music or that obnoxious beeping? I have it set to music from The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion.

49. Peter Pan? Yes? What about him? He’s an overrated character in an overrated story.

50. How often do you fall up the stairs? Seeing as I almost never encounter stairs, not very often.

51. Do you pronounce "anti" as ant-eye or ant-ee? (Example: "That scene was very anticlimactic.") Both, depending on the moment. I’m not a prescriptivist when it comes to most pronunciations. (don’t you dare get me started on “gif” though)

52. Do you pronounce "via" as vee-uh or vie-uh? (Example: "We can get there via Tremont Street.") Vee-uh. Not sure why that one’s so consistent.

53. How often do you forget to close your parentheses? More often than I care to admit.