#sighing looking at all my unfinished WIP's as I think of yet another fic

[snailpaste]

dry humping with shanks because you're both too drunk and desperate for eacothers touch to wait until you get back to quarters. all frantic grasping and stuttering hips and groans barely-muffled into eachother's mouths at the end of a barside alley.

[spaceorphan18]

State of the WiPs

Okay, so I realize I'm somewhat notorious for having a thousand projects going on at once. But I took a look, and when it comes to my writing, it's not as bad as it may seem? Anyway, not that there's much interest in this other than my own, I just felt like I'd write about it anyway...

So, out of the 66 works I have on Ao3 - 15 of them are incomplete. That means only a 1/4 of what I've started I haven't finished (yet)... We can break this down into a few categories...

Things I will (probably) never finish

The Ancient Office Things ::

This stuff is so old that I barely remember writing it. I brought it over from another website just for completion sake; so that I could have all my writing in one place. But, no, I'll never be going back to this stuff.

Dunder Mifflin, This Is Pam

Different Perspectives

One Week --- this is actually the first fanfic I ever wrote (and published), and, I mean, I could chop off the last chapter and call it complete, as it does come to an ending point if I ever felt the need.

The Old MCU Things ::

Okay, so while I've never really left the MCU fandom, I did kind of stop writing fic for it. And this is really when my unfinished reputation really started to happen, because I did start creating a ton of things and never really went anywhere with them. I do have a half a mind to take them all down, and leave it for if/when I ever feel inspired to come back to it, since most of it is just a bunch of first chapters of things...

Misplaced

The Ensemble

A Summer Holiday

Faking It --- the thing about this one is that it's really just a collection of stand alones. There really is no beginning or ending, it's more like a short story collection, left open for possibilities.

The Glee Stuff I Probably Won't Be Touching ::

Black Kitty -- Back in the day, I had this funny idea about a Glee/OMGCheck Please crossover. It was amusing at the time. And should have been maybe a sketch? Out of all my unfinished things, this is my least favorite. I kind of hate it. But every time I threaten to take it down, people yell at me, lol. And yes, I know I could orphan it - but I don't like having my work out there that I no longer have control of. So I'm stuck with this abomination.

The CrossRhodes Saga -- I still have all my notes for this noir piece, and I honestly still love the idea. This is one that I might actually take down and start fresh with because it deserves actual attention. Plus, I think I'm a better writer now than when I first wrote this and would want to rework it.

Changed For the Better -- This was one of those Christmas challenges that, honestly, I hated doing. I don't think it's a bad story, but it never really worked for me. I feel bad that this one literally is half unfinished. Maybe some day I'll there will be a spark there to do something with it, but doubtful.

The Smut Challenge -- *sigh* I mean, part of me almost does want to work on this again, because the thought of having 365 short stories of smut is kind of hilarious to me. But writing this became really tedious after a while. Do you know how hard it is to keep smut interesting? I still have all my notes, so who knows, maybe.

Actual Open Projects

In The City That We Love -- I probably should have not posted this until I was ready to actually focus on it. The nice thing is that this first chapter stands on its own relatively nicely. It was going to be the thing I work on after Head Over Feet is done, but I keep getting distracted by other fandoms, so I'm not sure if and when I'll come back to it. But I still love the idea enough to keep it open.

The Spaces In-Between -- This has been open and barely worked on for years, but I don't think I'll ever really close the door on it. Maybe it'll be nicer when I have more distance and I come at the show feeling fresher about it after not seeing it for quite a while. I guess we'll see.

Head Over Feet -- Yeah, I know. I am dragging my feet on this one. Bless the people actually who've been with me on this one for literal years. I didn't mean for it to take so long, but that year in Indiana really put a damper on me writing anything, and I struggled. But, I will finish this fic. It was a passion project for so long that I couldn't not. I even have the next chapter half written and all organized and ready to go. I just need more time and less distractions :P But please don't give up on this one.

Double Date -- Hey, it's the Bridgerton fic that I'm currently working on! And yes, it's occupying all of my time at the moment. I promised myself that before I started anything new - this was getting done. And I'm holding myself to that.

Things Yet to Come

Believe it or not, there are things I've refrained from publishing. Honestly, I've been trying to keep focus (especially the last few months) and work on one thing at a time.

The X-Men Projects :: So, there are two bigger ideas that I want to do. First, I have nearly a novel length Romy fic that I've detailed outlined and I love. I LOVE this idea so much. I did start to write it (and then totally got distracted by Bridgerton, oops). But I think so I don't fall into the trap of the Marvel stuff, I want to wait to publish it. I think maybe I'll post it when it's done, done, which will be nice for people who are concerned about my track record.

The second idea, though, I have started, but have been smart about it. One-shots! I figure instead of having one story that cover's the whole Romy spectrum, i'd post little one-shots that came to me. And while this feels like a big project to me -- I'm not leaving people hanging, as the one-shots are very much intentionally stand alone moments in time.

The Bridgerton Projects :: Honestly, I have a bunch of them. And while a good handful are one-shots, I promised myself to work on one thing at a time, so not to feel overwhelmed. And I think that's working.

If nothing else... it feels nice to be creative again. And I am writing pretty regularly, which I couldn't say was happening the last couple of years, especially when I was in the dark place that was Indiana, lol.

[mareenavee]

Last Lines Tag

Hi! I was tagged by @greyborn2 and @archangelsunited to share the last lines of a few WIPS. I do have some of those!

tagging the amazing and wonderful @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @tallmatcha, @thana-topsy, @thequeenofthewinter, @dirty-bosmer, @gilgamish, @snippetsrus, @elfinismsarts, @rainpebble3, @rhiannon1199 and an honorary tag to @kookaburra1701 in case another WIP snuck up on you while you weren't looking (:

Without further ado, small tiny snippets below the cut! 5 active, 1 inactive, with two more collabs in planning stages and too many more of my own with plans but no words yet.

So not quite as unhinged a deal with the Daedric Prince of Unfinished WIPs as KB has going(💖), but a deal nevertheless.

(The thing about that Daedric Prince is She always wants more words, but never grants more time, sigh.)

From Chapter 29 of The World on Our Shoulders:

Teldryn carefully placed everything he carried on their desk, content to be ignored and eavesdrop. Neloth was explaining something he’d been able to puzzle out — he pointed at a rough diagram depicting a cross section of a skull and brain. Unnerving, but nothing anyone who’d studied Restoration wouldn’t have seen before. Nyenna reached out and touched his wrist without looking up from Neloth’s notes. It was a silent thanks, or perhaps a reassurance. He could see the set of her shoulders; the conversation was stressing her out in equal measure to how much it calmed Neloth.

From an Untitled (so far) Sequel to Little Dragon:

Teldryn heard the crackling of Magicka being pulled over the sound of the Familiar – soft, like embers on a log. He turned, and watched as Anisa, cheek still pressed to the bench where she sprawled, curly hair cascading down, untucked her arm from underneath herself and lazily cast Magelight with a small grumble. Shalnouada reached up and scooped the ball of light into its mouth in smooth, practiced movements. The Magelight passed through it, causing its body to glow a myriad colors, throwing glittering light across the walls and ceiling. The happy chittering of mudcrabs filled the room. Teldryn blinked in shock, then ran his palm over his face. He cast another instance of Magelight and pushed it toward the spectral crab. Its eyestalks rotated, locking onto its food source. Again, faster than anything, it scooped the magic up into its mouth, then made a contented sound as the glittering erupted and faded, just like before.

*Shalnouada = Dunmeris for River Spirit (Shaln (Spirit) + Ouada (River))

From Darkest Before the Dawn (A Varlais extra chapter):

Varlais jumped back as it expelled a stream of bile and blood. Ancarion had resummoned his Atronach, which crashed into the side of the dragon’s head with the full force and weight of its whole body. There was a sickening snap, likely somewhere in the beast’s neck. It was just a beast, after all. It had to be. Its bones still broke the same as everything else’s.

From Recurse, an upcoming Ondolemar fic for a prompt challenge:

He thought back to the revelations the odd Dwemer machine had given him. Each moment was recursive, trying to tell him something, puzzle pieces clicking into place. Things he’d forgotten, or not seen in the right frame of mind.  It could have been a blessing, had things not already been so complicated.

Untitled Sideways Sequel to World, featuring Athis:

"Think of it like this," Farkas started. He paused and tapped the edge of his fist against his forehead. Athis snorted. Farkas grinned, but squeezed his eyes closed. "We'll be founding members of a new guild, kinda, right? And I know how much you hate vampires. It'll be fun to bring a bunch of 'em down. You won't have to think about, well, all of this. We'll be too busy." Optimistic, really. Athis did appreciate it, though. He looked over at his friend and managed a half-smile. "That's the idea, Farkas," he said. Farkas nodded and grinned widely and returned to his task. "I miss Nyenna, too, though," Farkas said after a moment. "A lot, actually." He pulled a long piece of grass taught and carefully braided together another ridiculously tiny row. "I'm sorry it all fell apart like this. It wasn't fair. But I'm with you, whatever you want to do." Athis looked at his friend who pointedly did not look back up from his work. This time it was the right thing to say. He felt marginally better. Maybe just halfway not as alone as before. He sighed again. "No turning back now, I suppose," he said with a shrug. "We'll be at the fort in no time at all."

and BONUS! The last lines of my writing from a secret, untitled prompt fill collab I'm writing with @changelingsandothernonsense.

You cannot stop it no matter how you rail. No matter how hard you pull back against destiny. You scream, and once again, the sound is lost to the Heart.  And then –  She is there, her golden skin a balm in this place of terror. She approaches, gilded form languid and graceful. Unbothered by the mountain. Untempted by the heart. She is real, and she is not. You are not. And still she approaches.

[bendingwind]

20 asks for writers

I wasn't tagged I just like talking about myself 😌

how many works do you have on Ao3? 158

what's your total Ao3 word count? 429,818

what fandoms do you write for? Just, so many. I think there's over 25. Top 5 by number of fics are Doctor Who, The Witcher, The Avengers, Dragon Age: Inquisition, and Bleach

what are your top five fics by kudos? - The Orphan Boy (Avengers) (sigh) - Reputations (Protector of the Small) (legit what, when did this happen) - Dreaming (Avengers) - Adventures In Social Media (Avengers) - Shapeshifting and Shenanigans (Avengers)

do you respond to comments? Sometimes! I generally respond pretty regularly to comments on new fics I've written and I try to respond to long comments regardless of when they're left.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Okay. Ironically, given how much I love angst, I hate angsty endings. It has to be i've got a feeling (this was meant to be) (Avengers) which isn't properly an ending, because this is my only unfinished work on AO3. It was intended to continue and have them meet when they were older and fall properly in love then.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I tend to skew towards happy endings except when I write dark endings, but maybe (don't pay no mind to) the demons they fill you with fear (Avengers) just for the sheer sense of hope?

Do you get hate on fics? I got some flames when I was younger for a variety of reasons, most often when I wrote material that I wasn't really old enough to handle respectfully or correctly yet and people got (rightfully if rudely) angry. The end of 2023 had a weird rash of people nitpicking minor canon details with me though.

Do you write smut? Yes.

Do you write crossovers? I was about to say no but I literally linked a Pacific Rim/Avengers crossover earlier so. I suppose I do.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know?

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, someone translated Adventures in Social Media into chinese, and I think one other story though I'm a loose ends trying to think of what it was.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! Die on Every Hill (Dragon Age: Inquisition). It was a delightful experience.

What’s your all time favourite ship? Look this depends on everything from what i ate for dinner to the phase of the moon. I am a multi-shipper and i will die a multi-shipper.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I've gone over these I think twice recently so skip. (But it's the 10 BILLION WORDS ABOUT KEL RIP)

What are your writing strengths? I think I'm good at characterization and at, idk, mimicking author voice? So that the tone feels like the original material, where appropriate.

What are your writing weaknesses? I really, really struggle to write if I'm not ✨inspired✨ in the sense that I... simply do not write if I'm not inspired. I'm trying to do better about that this year.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I usually try to write it in the original language or the anglicized version of the original language and build up the appropriate context around it so that it's clear what the character is saying. Otherwise, italics.

First fandom you wrote for? Arguably Narnia, in that my fourth grade standardized test essay was basically Narnia meets the horror genre fanfiction, as seen by a nine-year-old. The first I ever posted was Harry Potter, Ron/Hermione. I still have it. It is... so incredibly bad. I believe I was about ten at the time I wrote it.

Favourite fic you’ve written? all my possessions for a moment of time (Dragon Age: Origins)

[ablatheringblatherskite]

Last/First Sentence Tag War

Okay I don't know if I also got tagged by @anotherbluesunday for both first sentence as well as last, but it was in the same post so I... might as well go for it :)))

For the first sentence, it's from the same fic as the one I shared for my first last sentence post :000

Tyler ran. He ran. He ran as fast as and far as he could. And he didn't look back. The Hyde in him was howling in fury, in pain, in betrayal. It was taking everything in him not to let it out, to succumb to the pain. He needed to run. He needed to get away. He needed to find Wednesday.

And for the last sentence, I picked from yet another WIP I have 😭 because I have so many that's unfinished (but also several that are finished and I'm still editing!! Yes @cosmic-lullaby I promise I haven't forgotten 😭)

Wednesday sighed. “It's a little saddening that you expect me to participate in such a childish thing, Thorpe.” Xavier looked offended. “I don't know. I thought that pranking the school with potion-laced candies would be considered just as childish, if not even more childish, than a prank war that they initiated.” If looks could make someone's blood boil in agony, Xavier would be melting under Wednesday's gaze.

And AND, just because I can... a random middle part from yet ANOTHER WIP LOL, just because I did both first and last already

“Daddy?” the six year old girl said nervously, clinging to his legs. Ajax laughed weakly. “Zephyr, could you give me some room? Daddy can't carry all this with you holding onto my leg like that.” “Sorry,” she replied, quickly letting go. Enid turned around, her eyes widening as she quickly reached over and grabbed the two suitcases he was trying to get over the worn, brick steps with ease. “Ajax! I said I was going to help you!” she cried, setting the suitcases down inside before grabbing the two other bags. Ajax smiled at her sheepishly. “I was handling it,” he protested, and Enid playfully rolled her eyes. “You could've just taken multiple trips, you know. It's not that hard.” Ajax opened his mouth in a small o. “Oh, yeah,” he laughed sheepishly. “I guess I didn't think of that.”

I'm tagging @anotherbluesunday back just because of how evilly they tagged me, @iamfandomcrazy for both, @wednesdayandherhyde again but this time just for FIRST sentences, @cosmic-lullaby again but also this time just for first sentences, @allergictocolor also just for first sentences this time, and @turtlewexlerapologist for both!

[forabeatofadrum]

Ljubim te (14/24)

Notes: Hello folks, it’s me again! I am almost done with my thesis, which gave me some time to write and boy am I glad I did. To celebrate, I have two chapters for you. I actually wrote the majority of chapter 15 over 6 months ago and I’ve been sitting on it ever since, so I am glad we reached this point.

After all, I also started on chapter 14 around the same time, but I only just wrapped it up. I got stuck on it a lot. My thesis took a lot of time, and when I was done writing each day, I didn’t feel like staring at another Word document. That, and the news that some people are feeding unfinished WIPs to bullshit like ChatGPT demotivated me to write. I am not aware of anyone using my fic for this, and if it happens, please don’t tell me because it would devastate me, but it should go without saying that people do not have permission to use my work for AI crap.

And lastly, Eurovision 2023 put Slovenia on the map and in Europeans’ minds, but look, Capre Diem slaps.

AO3 | S&C  

–  

DISPOSE

Kurt gives up after three days of phone calls and text messages. He’s even considered stopping by Blaine’s apartment or office, but that feels a bit too much. After five days, he’s certain that he’s not going to see Blaine anymore and he tries to accept that.

Although Kurt thinks he deserves answers, because what the fuck just happened? How could Blaine just dispose Kurt like that, like he’s trash?

Okay, okay, that is too harsh, Kurt thinks to himself, Blaine did not treat you like trash.

Still, that doesn’t make this current treatment less painful.

He does find comfort in the fact that Sunil cannot reach Blaine either, so it’s not just Kurt he’s ignoring. Kurt and Sunil miss their third Boni buddy. Now, they just need to get Boni with the two of them.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Sunil asks.

Kurt lets out a sigh.

“I’ll let you know once I figure it out myself,” he answers, “He’s been ghosting me as well.”

“Have you asked Tadeja?”

Kurt shakes his head.

“Not sure if I should. I don’t know her well enough and I also don’t know if Blaine knows her well enough.”

“They are friends, I think.”

“Are they?” Kurt asks. He doesn’t mean to sound rude. Tadeja is very kind and Kurt also likes hanging out with her. But from what Kurt’s gotten, Tadeja is a work friend and a mentor of sorts. He doesn’t know if she’s someone Blaine would confide in.

Kurt does not want to call Tadeja and raise questions. Kurt’s pretty sure that Blaine does not want people to know that they’ve kissed and yes, that stings, but the closet is the closet and Kurt would rather set himself on fire than potentially kicking someone out of it.

“I think Tadeja is cool,” Sunil says with a shrug, “Might even ask her out.”

“Really?” Kurt asks. He did not see that one coming.

“Yeah,” Sunil says and Kurt’s glad to have a subject they can talk about that doesn’t involve him or Blaine.

“Tell me everything!”

--

Kurt realises that he misses Blaine. It’s weird, because he didn’t see Blaine every day, since they’re both busy, but they would at least text occasionally. Kurt didn’t realise that Blaine had become such a big part of his life in Ljubljana until now.

Kurt isn’t angry. He was never angry. But he does want answers, because right now, Blaine is leaving him in the dark and Kurt doesn’t even know how he’s supposed to feel about it.

Is he supposed to be angry?

Is he supposed to be sad?

Or maybe, is he supposed to be sympathetic?

Kurt remembers the look on Blaine’s face when he realised what was happening and a part of him recognises the shock and despair. A part of Kurt remembers it.

--

The temperatures can rise a lot in Ljubljana, and it isn’t even summer yet.

After classes, Kurt crosses the Three Bridges to go to VIGÒ, an ice cream shop. He and Blaine passed another VIGÒ in Koper, but it was too cold back then.

Koper.

That feels like ages ago.

Honestly, the moment Blaine kissed him already feels like ages ago, although it’s only been a week. Kurt still doesn’t know how to feel.

He’s thought a lot about it in the past week. Kurt and Blaine became friends, but Kurt’s realised that he does not know Blaine. He thought he did, but he was wrong. He had no idea that Blaine was potentially struggling with something.

Of course, Kurt knows for sure, but he just remembers how upset Blaine looked when he ran off. Kurt remembers the first time he realised he liked a guy and it felt wrong. He now knows that it isn’t wrong, but back when he was a kid, it became clear that in order to be normal, he couldn’t be gay.

Kurt’s trying to accept that Blaine is dealing with something. He tries to tell himself that there is nothing he can do. Blaine’s made it very clear that he has no interest in talking to Kurt about what has happened in his room. But Kurt also wishes that Blaine would reach out, so that Kurt can help him.

And again, maybe this is all in Kurt’s head.

Maybe Blaine isn’t struggling at all. Maybe he doesn’t want to speak to Kurt for other reasons.

But Kurt doesn’t know.

Damn, maybe he shouldn’t go to VIGÒ. If the fact that he and Blaine walked past another store can trigger such a reaction, then maybe Kurt should just turn around and go to the Cacao. He turns around and he’s about to forget this whole VIGÒ thing when someone calls his name.

“Kurt?” he hears.

Kurt looks over his shoulder and he sees that Sunil and Tadeja have left VIGÒ.

Right, he knows that Sunil’s asked Tadeja out.

Kurt hadn’t really thought about Tadeja a lot. He’s certain that Tadeja cannot help him, although he does wonder if Sunil’s said anything to her.

“Hey guys,” Kurt says cheerfully.

“Are you also looking for a way to cool down?” Tadeja nods towards the entrance of VIGÒ.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect this hot weather, especially after a cold winter.”

“Eh, you got here in February. It was a lot colder in January,” Tadeja says with a shrug. Then she shoots a quick glance towards Sunil.

“Oh, am I interrupting your date…” Kurt trails off.

“We’re about to go to Tivoli Park, but we can chat for a moment,” Sunil says.

Tadeja nods.

“How’ve you been?” she asks.

Kurt searches Tadeja’s face for a hint of an ulterior motive. Is she asking this because she knows something has happened between him and Blaine, or is she asking this because she is a lovely person? Probably the second, because Tadeja is lovely, but she is also on friendly terms with Blaine.

Kurt decides to give some generic answers about classes and the weather. Tadeja asks how the preparation for the play is going and Kurt’s glad to tell her. Sunil also chips in every now and then, because he’s heard Kurt rehearse in his room, to Kurt’s embarrassment.

“No, no, man, you sound amazing. You can monologue like crazy,” Sunil says excitedly, “Take the compliment!”

“Ah, okay,” Kurt laughs. He doesn’t want to come off as vain, because that won’t help him in this industry, but Sunil is right and he should be able to celebrate small moments. He needs it, especially in this weird time.

“I was so happy when Blaine told me that you wanted me to see it,” Tadeja says, and Kurt tries to keep smiling.

Of course, they cannot ignore Blaine. Kurt once again tries to figure out if Tadeja has a particular reason for bringing him up.

“I’d love for you to be there,” Kurt says earnestly. After all, no one back home can see it, so he’s happy that he’s found some people here.

And then he thinks: fuck it. He’s dancing around the topic he wants to discuss, and Tadeja is right here. This is his moment.

“How is Blaine?” he asks innocently. Sunil gives him a knowing look over Tadeja’s shoulder.

“Good, good,” Tadeja answers, “Busy. We both are. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there was an issue with sexism on the work floor, but I am currently combatting it, and he has my back.”

Kurt does know of the issue. It’s why Blaine came to visit him.

“So we’re working on that, and of course, the workflow doesn’t end there. We’ve decided to not partner with those sexist pigs, which is a big change in our business plan and…”

Tadeja continues to talk about her work and Kurt nods attentively, although he doesn’t really follow. He never quite understood what Blaine’s company actually does and Blaine never felt the need to explain it.

“… so that is why we’re kind of stressed. It’s a good thing Blaine has a break coming up.”

“He does?”

Tadeja gives him a weird look.

“Yeah. Quinn’s coming, remember?”

“She is?” Kurt is unable to hide his surprise. Quinn is still coming?

“Yeah?” Tadeja says as if it’s obvious, “They’ve been planning this visit ever since he left America. I can imagine he’s nervous. It’s finally happening! I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Of course.”

Kurt and Sunil look at each other and Sunil sees that as his cue to cut in. He tells Kurt that it was a lot of fun running into him, but that they have to go and continue their date. He makes it look like he’s the one who wants to get out of the conversation, not Kurt, and Kurt appreciates it.

They say their goodbyes. When they’re out of sight, Kurt looks at VIGÒ before sighing and walking away.

--

End notes: Damn, you know Kurt’s really going through it when he skips VIGÒ. VIGÒ is also my favourite ice cream shop in the city. There were other ice cream places, but VIGÒ had a lot of interesting flavours. I particulary liked the VIGÒ flavour and the lavender flavour. They also switch it up every now and then.

While sparsely researching for this chapter, I actually found out that VIGÒ opened a second store in Ljubljana. And guess where? Kongresni trg! The place to be!

[leapyearkisses]

For the director's cut: Could you do Nice Work If You Can Get It? (Eliseo/Padgett)

That fic... Changed me. I'll never forget it TBH.

Yes, I'd be happy to! This one was really fun to write, and it was the beginning of two OCs I am very fond of now (and who I am happy to know made an impression on quite a few people!).

(If anyone enjoys this director's cut thing and wants to see one for another of my stories, ask away. I had a lot of fun!)

Commentary in bold below the cut! NSFW, mess, deliberately sneezing on people, m/m

This story started from a prompt about one character hiring someone to get them sick. An intriguing idea!! But it was one I actually struggled with finding a groove for when I started out. I actually started a few different scenarios with different character dynamics before I figured this one out. I have a 2600-word WIP of a different version of this in my "unfinished" folder.

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

I can't really write fetish porn without including actual porn lol, so from the beginning it was sexy even without the snz. In this version, the POV character is Eliseo, who is the "naive" character in a way. I pretty much write pairs where one character has the fetish and their partner does not but is indulgent. The one with the fetish is usually embarrassed about it or somehow naively realizing they like this weird-ass thing. Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek.

Padgett is the confident character, and he brought the humor to this scenario! Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. Padgett surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and he almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" he said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah--

"A ghost in the window" eehhh this is kind of overworked. I like to write descriptively even when it isn't necessary. "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it.

I had never written anything quite this scandalous as it were. There hadn't been a lot of snzfic I had read where there was direct, purposeful contagion like this or quite so much mess description directly on the skin, the face even. So I was sweating while writing this lol. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?"

CONSENT IS THE SEXIEST THING. We get this instinctual edge of revulsion from Eliseo because he has not acknowledged to himself that he likes snz yet and also he has never allowed anyone to do this to him before because why would anyone do this? Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing one more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly.

I think artists often point out how funny it is that when they're drawing they mimic the face of the character. I do this with sneeze sounds (IF I'M ALONE). I tend to like softer sounds for my characters, so a lot of sibilance creeps in. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony.

Eliseo is a card. I love him. Of the two of them he is much more my preferred "type." He is similar to my mage character Llewellyn but less fussy. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing. What absolute drivel.

There's a little "my lord" up there before, but this is kind of where the setting is characterized - Eliseo is a noble and this is a time and place where nobility matters. However, it's also anachronistic, because germ theory is a thing. They're kind of in a pseudo Regency/Victorian world where I just write whatever feels like the most fun. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough. Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it."

People with shitty immune systems are my jam. Even if it's really unlikely, I love it. Sometimes especially if it's unlikely. Like mister high elf Llewellyn, or if they're a god or angel or something. Or in a world where if you had that bad of an immune system you probably would have died of diphtheria or pneumonia by now. "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was. Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help."

After consent, MESS is the sexiest thing. That's just how it goes. I don't make the rules. Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look.

I wasn't sure where this came from either. But suddenly they were in love and I was cool with it. Eli btw is pronounced like the name (Ee-lye) but Eliseo is pronounced Ell-ee-zay-oh in my mind. It's of Latin origin and means "God is my salvation" according to that authority Babynames.com lol. Padgett means "attendant" so that was chosen partially because he's Eliseo's employee but also because Padgett is just a SUPER English-sounding name. I really enjoy looking up name meanings and representing different traditions in my characters. I tried to give Eliseo's family members Latin names, too, although they're not mentioned here. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah-- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze.

Sometimes you just have to stop writing for a second and drink some cold water or something. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp.

Fingers tightening fitfully in a sheet is a thing I love to describe. If you binge-read everything I've written, you will find that I write snz and sex in a very particular way over and over. Because that's what I like! And I'm super glad readers like it as well! But I can basically only find the motivation to write what I enjoy (when I write at all... .__.), which is why I only write m/m or nb characters and such. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air.

SCANDALOUS "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air.

Wow, lol. I have a great imagination. I wish I could make myself write more often. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers.

Also the first time I wrote anything like this, but Eliseo was like go big or go home, so. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again.

Huahaha Eliseo can have an unrealistic refractory period. I don't really give a shit how accurate this stuff is when it would get in the way of the enjoyment. Not to the point where people are just going in without lube or something crazy like that, but being willing and able to go again is just sexy, so that's fine. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

And then they DEFINITELY banged. I hadn't conceptualized their specific history together at this point, but Eliseo and Padgett were FWB while younger, so the "surprise" at meeting again like this in a sexy fashion is more like "Oh, are we doing this now, as adults with drastically different social standing?" and less "Hey, are you into me??"

I got more than one request to write the direct sequel to this, but I dunno. I usually prefer one character in the pair to be the one who is sneezing, and writing Eliseo sick isn't as fun. Partially because I'm much, MUCH more interested in the shy/embarrassed/"voyeur" dynamic, so someone who gets off on their own sneezes really does nothing for me. I do have a WIP of Eliseo sick that is a direct sequel to Carriage Shenanigans, but I have no idea if it will ever get finished.

Thanks so much for the request for this very fun exercise!

[smol-and-trashy]

Botched Rescue (BnHA vore fic) 5/5

A/N: Honestly, I only posted this because I hate leaving fics unfinished, so now I can finally say, I finished a fic! I’ll probably work on the prey!Dimi fic in the next couple of weeks, so be on the look-out for that! (and then I gotta finish my remaining WIPs... this is why i don’t do multi-chapter stuff, I lose interest way too fast ~sobs~) tw for vomit. 

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

Shit shit shit. Hawks' brain immediately went to worst-case scenario. He shoved his fingers back in his throat, gagging and dry heaving, but this time nothing came out. Brown flecked eyes shot open; this couldn't be happening. Okay, calm down, gotta go to plan B: find an emetic. He straightened up and ran to the bathroom. Rummaging through his cabinets, sharp eyes scanning various medications and bottles until he finally laid eyes on what he was looking for, bingo! 

He unscrewed the cap and didn't even bother to correctly measure the medication as he gulped down the syrup until his stomach began to toss and turn. Grabbing hold of the bowl once again, his stomach twisted, and almost automatically, he thew up. Hawks scanned the vomit-covered bowl for any signs of anything living and finally made contact with three multi-color heads of hair. Letting out a sigh he didn't know he was holding, he fishes them out of the bowl, one-by-one. They're limp and barely unconscious, but he can feel their breaths to know that they're alive. Coughing, the green-haired boy, Midoriya, Hawks reminds himself, stumbles a bit before gazing up at the blond and freezes. Never had he seen someone's life deflate from their body so quickly, and if he weren't the one causing the distress, he'd find it a touch amusing. The kids were staring wide-eyed at him as if he were some kind of monster; he didn't care. Right now, relief swept over him, they were alive, and that was the only thing that mattered right now. "Let's get you guys cleaned up." he murmurs, throat raw and scratchy as he gets up to run a clean bowl under water. The students in his free hand stay dead-still; even the loud one wasn't making a single move. Had he scarred them this much? If he was honest with himself, this wasn't the most preferable of outcomes, but he could work with it. He had to. He brings the water-filled bowl back into the bathroom and brings the kids to the lukewarm water. The water was relatively shallow, and he trusted them enough to bathe themselves without drowning. The boys stayed limp in the bowl for a solid minute, shell-shocked over what they just went through, before slowly scrubbing the gunk off their clothes and hair. They looked so stiff, only going through the motions of what was necessary before finally stopping once they deemed themselves 'clean.' Hawks felt a pang of guilt in his chest as he watched, knowing that he'd fucked up. Even though all of this was for the greater good, he had just traumatized three teenagers for the betterment of hero society. Was all of this really worth it? xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Izuku stared way up at the giant, fear overwhelming him. Why would Hawks let them out? To toy with them further? His heart thumped heavily in his chest while the winged man loomed over them. To put it simply, the hero looked terrible. Strands of blond hair clung to Hawks' sweaty forehead while he had heavy bags under his triangular ducts. A hand hovered over them before trunk-sized fingers seemed to pause before wrapping themselves around Bakugou; the fiery teen squirmed in Hawks' grasp, yelling obscurities at the man holding him while being moved away from the bowl. Hawks slumped down on the wall, pushing his hair back, and gazed up at the blank ceiling. "Haah, thank god you guys are alive. Thought I miscalculated or something!" he tiredly laughed. "Put me down! You reek!" Bakugou wriggled in the man's grasp, biting and kicking at the fingers enclosed on him. The winged pro hero looked down, yet Bakugou remained undaunted by those sharp eyes, he had no idea what the hero was thinking, but if he was planning on eating them again, he's got another thing coming. Instead of raising him back into the damp maw, nimble fingers worked at the quirk suppressor bracelet on his leg, prying it open with just his thumb and index finger, until a small pop was heard, and they snapped off. "There ya go!" Bakugou stared at the man, for the first time since this ordeal, he was entirely dumbstruck. The birdbrain actually helped him? He couldn't believe it. Before he knew it, he was carefully dropped down into the bowl, and Hawks did the same to Deku and Icy-Hot, their bracelets snapping off with relative ease. Bakugou silently watched from afar, confident that the same thought was nesting in the other students' heads: What the hell? xxxxxxxxxxx There wasn't much discourse between Hawks and the students. Guilt gnawed in his gut; he knew that he did the right thing, but was that really enough? Going by the Midoriya's instinctive shudders with each inflicting touch, he had his answer. No, this is what I trained to do, what I'm supposed to do. Keep civilians and provisional heroes safe, I did my job, completed the mission—yet why do I feel so… hollow? Hawks swallowed down these feelings and moved on, scooping the students and softly pocketing them in the largest bag he could find. He had to focus on getting them back to regular size; that was his primary goal, that had been his goal from the first time he saw them in the Liberation Front's base. Pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind, he left his apartment and took off to the Commission's headquarters, taking in warm breeze rafting through messy blond tufts, trying to fly as smoothly as possible, careful not to jostle the U.A. students too much inside the bag. He made a landing in front of the main building, and after punching in his security card, he barged into the President of Public Safety Commission's office, "Got the students. Do you have the re-sizing villain?" The President narrowed her eyes, "Next time knock, Hawks," she said cooly, before sighing, "Of course, he's in the detainment room. Come with me." Hawks whistled, "Yes, ma'am!" and held the bag a bit closer; he wasn't sure what kind of man the self-proclaimed 'Size Maestro' was, but going by his villain name, his expectations were already low. He was promptly lead into an elevator and then down a long hallway, finally stopping at a room with a brick-headed man staring dully at his cuffs. There he was. The Commission President shoots Hawks a pointed look that easily told him, you're just here to interrogate him and get the kids back to normal, you got that? Hawks shot her an easygoing grin back and turned his attention back to the man; this was going to be a cinch. He opened the door and swiftly brought the students out of the satchel. The slight widening of the man's eyes in alarm was all he needed to know, but still, he persevered with the questioning. "Do you recognize these kids?" he asked, pulling up a chair, so he can be at eye-level with the man. "'Course not. Never seen them kids before in my life." Hawks quirked a brow, "Really? Well, let me just run a lil confirmation with them," he looked down at the students. "Was this the guy who shrunk you?" As expected, Midoriya and Shoto both nodded while he had to shield Bakugou with a free hand so that he wouldn't end up lunging his tiny body at the man. "Seems they recognize you, so how about we try this again," his eyes pierced into the man, pupils narrowing into slits, "do you recognize these kids?" After what felt like minutes of sitting in pure silence, the man swallowed, and finally broke. "Fine! I was the one who shrunk the brats! But only under the orders of the Liberation, they tells me that I had to, that it brought us a step closer to the Liberation of quirks," his eyes widened at this slip, and he quickly put a hand over his mouth before squinting at Hawks. "Wait, aren't ya…" Seeing the gears turn in the other man's head, the hero wasted no time; with a key in one hand, he unlocked the villain's handcuffs before pressing a sharp feather under the man's chin. "Turn them back, and then you and I will talk." Nodding, the Size Maestro prodded the students, and one-by-one, they quickly grew back to their original sizes. He looked up at Hawks, expectingly, "So you are a dirty spy that thinks he can—-" he wasn't able to finish his sentence before Hawks knocked him out with a feather blade and locked his cuffs back on. "There we go," he states, satisfied as he turns his attention back to the heroes-in-training, they were unconscious in the interrogation room, exhausted from the re-growth process, but with the aid of a few Commission employees, he brought them back into the Commission President's office. "So, what do you wanna tell their teacher and Endeavor?" The President's lips straightened in a pale line, "Must they know the truth, Hawks?" The hero shrugged, "Could just say they got captured by the League?" Her grim expression softened, pleased with his response, "Good. It would put hero society in turmoil if they were to find out about your mission and more about the Liberation Front than what has already been disclosed. For now, this ordeal will be between us." He smirked, about to retort back, but a buzzing on his headset shifted his attention, pausing for a second, he listened. Armed robbery in Kurume, some kind of electrical quirk. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, not really wanting to leave the kids until they were fully conscious so he could have more time to explain himself properly, but from the frantic squawks of his sidekick, it seemed urgent. His expression shifted, and he turned his attention back to the President. "Duty calls, tell the kids I'm really sorry about everything." She nodded, and giving one last look a the students, he closed the door. His expression darkening slightly as he left the building, he was going to have to cook up an alibi on his way back to Fukuoka for the Liberation Front. xxxxxxxx Deku shifted in his sleep, finding himself in an awful nightmare of being captured by the League and ending up getting eaten and digested by Hawks. His eyes fly open, and he finds himself in a too-bright room, with Bakugou and Todoroki still passed out. Memories flood his head, that awful dream was his reality, yet--why was he alive? He vaguely remembered Hawks releasing them, his words remained fuzzy in the green haired teen’s mind as he tried shifting through recent memories. Sighing, Deku shifts his head to the side, finally noticing the Head of Safety Commission standing over him with her hands behind her back, but that wasn't what surprised him the most, no, it was that he was back to normal again. He… he really did save us. "H-Hawks!" he turns to thank the winged pro, but he was nowhere to be found. Deku sighed; the man really was too fast for his own good.

[creativia10]

First Wip: Dukeceit Vs

Summary: Vigilante Janus has to deal with the chaos that is the newest villain wreaking havoc. Yet they both find themselves drawn to one another.

Notes: I decided to go ahead and try posting some of these unfinished wips. This was actually one of the first fics I attempted to write after deciding I wanted to try and participate in Dukeceit week. I actually really liked this one. I think my original intention was for this to be for the Free day (although I ended up getting a lot of Dukeceit ideas that didn't fit into the prompts). I can see myself getting back to it eventually. Sorry for the abrupt cutoff it ends with at the moment.

Pairing: Janus x Remus

Word count: 2014

Warnings: implied background violence? , innuendos (implied kink), sexual tension

Janus nearly had to swerve as he felt his weight shifted into the wall of the building he was next to.

Well this was new.

Once he got his bearings, he carefully righted himself, testing that the ground was no longer shifting underneath him, and carefully made his way out of the alley he had changed in, still using the wall as a railing in case some other natural shift occurred. He peered out of the alley carefully, working into the natural suaveness his vigilante costume normally gave him.

The city…looked like a mess. He almost couldn’t begin to describe it. Roadways were shifted about, all sorts of objects were around in a disarray as though blown there. There were simultaneous evidence of flooding and fires. Janus had never before seen such a catastrophic mess left around. He wouldn’t have believed such a thing was there if he weren’t seeing it with his own eyes.

He sighed, and carefully stepped about to find the source of all this chaos. It didn’t take long for him to hear a maniacal cackle.

“Oh what fun!”

A man dressed in all black with accents in various outlandish neon colors was floating in the middle of the city, over what looked like swirling ground debris?

He was looking about, seeming to laugh at people’s reactions to the mess he had made. Attention at things such as people trying to fix wind ruined hair, and turning around as though dizzy in disbelief. He didn’t even seem to notice Janus at first.

Janus stepped up to him and cleared his throat.

“I’m not sure why I expected anything else, “ Janus said dryly. Of all things to say first to the new chaos.

The source of chaos turned to face Janus, and tilted his head, an unhinged twinkle to his eye before suddenly his earth twister collapsed and he landed right on the ground. There was an unpleasant sound as he landed, but the man didn’t seem phased as he looked over Janus. He had strange vibrant eyes, that gave Janus a radioactive feel.

“Hmm, you the goodie here to kill my buzz?”

Janus scoffed. “Gosh no. Do I look like a bright colored government ken doll? I clearly have way more class than them. I’m just someone who wants to make sure my life doesn’t get swept up in whatever craziness this is, and have the means to do so. I’d liked to see the end of the day, and I surely expected the road being twisted into a column is not going to be helpful to getting me to work tomorrow.”

The other just stared at him for a moment before he snorted.

“Ah, that’s a good one. See…I’m not done so,” He shrugged and went back to pointing around and zapping strange bouts of nature around the city.

“Are you even putting thought into what you’re doing?” Janus asked as he slyly brought himself closer.

“Or are you just doing your best to be an annoying menace to me?”

“Hmm,” he tapped his fingers to his lips, weird bits floating around.

“I mean, I didn’t have a particular plan, but I guess annoying you is a bonus.”

Just before Janus could pull out one of his weapons, a water tentacle slunk up from out of nowhere, and pulled him towards the black clad menace, wrapping him up and restraining him. The other laughed.

“Ah, now let’s have a looksy here.”

He walked around and seemed to be taking in Janus. Janus struggled and tried to get out of the hold, surprised there was such a firm pressure and that it was hard to break hold off. He wrinkled his nose when he got a whiff that suggested this water was not the cleanest.

“Hmm,” the villain was much closer now. Janus continued to struggle, glaring at the other, who simply smiled at him.

“Ok, “

Janus rolled his eyes. He concentrated, and Remus jumped at the unexpected slithering sensation around his ankle, which helped release Janus from the water hold.

Remus looked down to see the yellow and green snake there.

“Ah, you can summon snakes. Neato.” He then reached backward and got hold of Janus’ wrists before he could use the other snake like fanged object and surprisingly brought Janus up against his back, but he held the strength.

“Oh, snakey, if you wanted to wrap me up to bind me so badly, you only needed to ask.”

Janus grimaced and tried to break out of Menace’s hold, who in turn spun him around and pressed Janus back to his front this time. Menace made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr.

“I say, I rather like you against me.”

Janus’ eyes widened, suddenly very aware of just how warm Menace’s body was against his. He tried to get ahold of his breath, struggling for a comeback.

“What, no quip back?” Menace asked, sounding far too pleased with himself.

Janus huffed out a breath and tried his other trick again.

“Oh, that’s not going to work on me, dear.” Menace said, even when snakes wrapped around his ankles.

“You’re not concerned about them being venomous?”

“You would kill me?”

“I’m a vigilante, I play by my own rules.”

“That wasn’t an answer~,” Menace sang. “And I’m sure this would be less fun if I died.”

“Who said anything about fun? That’s your thing.”

“Mhmm~. Sure.”

He leaned in some to whisper into Janus’ ear,

“Isn’t there a thrill to being close to a rival whose intentions you don’t know?”

For some reason, the way he said that gave Janus shivers. He quickly tried to think of something else he could summon to get him out of this position before he completely lost his composure.

“Aha!” A familiar voice cried.

“Release the snakey villain, you new fiend.”

However, the obnoxious ‘hero’s’ entrance gave Janus the distraction he needed. Janus stamped on Menace’s foot and elbowed him enough to be able to get out of his grasp. He turned to face him, eyes flashing.

Menace simply laughed.

“Oh.”

“Your villainous deeds have now come to an end now that I-“

Janus shot a gag at him.

Menace cackled.

“Didn’t expect you to do that.”

“He’s annoying.”

The hero wrestled the gag out and stamped his foot.

“Hey! I am trying to save the day!”

“Mhm, and I’m trying to cut down a pest, so out of my way.”

“As if I would let the sly likes of you determine your own moral law on how we retain the bads of this city!”

“Oh blah blah blah, gosh, does he always blather on like this?”

“Indeed.”

The hero gasped in offense.

“Anyways, I really did not come here to fight two people today. So if you’re determined, I’m gonna head out. “

“Aww, but you’re probably more fun to fight!”

Janus just stated at Menace for a moment.

“What?”

Menace laughed, and then zoomed away on another earth twister.

“Aren’t you gonna go after him?” Janus asked the hero.

“But first-“ the hero started.

Janus rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He threw a smoke bomb and left before the hero could turn that into another needless battle, like he tended to do.

-

Janus wasn’t sure what he expected to come of that, but it wasn’t what ended up happening. For one, apparently Menace, as Janus had mentally dubbed him, was better at getting away than he thought. Janus wouldn’t put it past the hero’s incompetence either though, but it really wasn’t his business as long as the pest was done. Recurring villains, unless they were really powerful, were actually not a common thing where they were. Usually the villain would end up in jail. The hero, despite being annoying and over the top, was powerful, like a more dramatic superman. It was annoying often, say when Janus clearly had it against a villain, or the hero suddenly decided to fight him since his deeds were not always the most legal. Nevertheless, a villain being a child about who they wanted to fight was not common. For one thing, usually it was just the hero who fought the bad guys. Janus didn’t always go out of his way since he didn’t consider himself to be a universal do-gooder or anything like that.

Yet, this ‘Menace’ would show up at different parts of the city, bringing about his usual chaos, and almost actively ignored the hero. It was strange. Janus, begrudgingly, felt he needed to step in. The hero didn’t work well with others, or maybe he was just a nightmare to ‘work’ with.

Janus had barely gotten his costume on in the alleyway when he felt a strong wind pulling him out.

Gosh. That was too close.

Menace was standing in front of him, on the ground this time, with his earthy twister behind him.

“Heyy there, snakey. I’ve been waiting~.”

Janus raised an eyebrow at him, despite it likely being covered by his mask.

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm!” The villain leaned forward on his toes, unnaturally keeping his balance, probably from wind powers or something. Janus couldn’t help but lean back some.

“I was getting bored~.”

“That seems to be your whole ordeal, hm? You get bored. I get tired, yet I’m still here.”

Menace snorted.

“See, this is what I mean. You’re fun to talk to.”

“Yes, because snarky rival banter totally counts as talking.”

“Well, it is for me. “

Remus then spun around in his twister that seemed to stretch away.

“Come and catch me!” His voice rang off.

Janus groaned and started to trudge in that direction, trying to decide what he could summon to assist himself. He hadn’t summoned many large objects of transportation, but maybe he could find something to up his speed.

“You! He-“

“Yeah, I know, sir super hero. He seems to want to play with me, I will have to deal with it.”

The hero paused for a moment. “Is there anything I can do?” He asked hesitantly.

Janus smirked at him. “Not that I can think of. You seem the type to care about protecting the people so” Janus waved his hand, and went back to his task. He didn’t get very far before he was thrust into his next obstacle, a sink hole suddenly sucking him into the ground. Janus quickly summoned a grappling hook and hooked it onto the surface so he was dangling, but no longer falling. There was an echo of Menace’s cackle. Janus sighed as he swung himself up and landed smoothly. He looked around and saw he was in a different part of the city.

“Oo.”

Janus heard little clapping.

“That was a neat trick. I got to see you in many different angles. Very fun for me.”

Janus gave him an unimpressed look, before carefully looking around.

“Where is everybody?”

“Oh, probably deserted. I’m not very quiet.”

He slid up to Janus, on some sort of sliding ground formation.

“I think I’d rather have you all to myself anyways~” He said with a whole body wiggle.

Janus made a face.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Hmm?”

Menace suddenly got closer.

Janus took a step back, hand curling for something, but he struggled to wrack his mind of something that he could actually use against the walking natural disasters.

“Th-the comments, to me.”

Janus cursed to himself at the stutter.

‘“Hmmm” Menace tilted his head until there was an unpleasant creak.

“Cause. It’s fun, and I like you.”

Janus paused and stared at him in bewilderment.

“What?”

Menace giggled at that and then suddenly they were against a wall. Janus let out an oof, as his back hit a bit roughly. It didn’t help that the other man was against him.

“Ya know, I gotta say, I’m not the type who’s into pain,” Janus croaked before he could stop himself.

Menace frowned and took a small step back.

“Er, sorry…I got ahead of myself. I didn’t actually hurt you did I?”

Janus narrowed his eyes at the other, a bit

[eloarei]

Hiatus’d WIPs:  “Touch” (bnha)

I recently had a conversation with a friend/reader about how many unfinished fics I have lying around, and it made me decide to finally make a post for each one; under the assumption that I never write any of them again, I can at least link these posts at the end of the AO3 WIPs for people who are curious how the rest of the story goes.  So here we have:  WIP and notes for Dekumight fic series “Touch” (including unfinished next chapter) My thoughts: This was really one of my favorites for a while. There was something really fun about writing the sort of non-verbal communication they had going on, and the deep love and also awkwardness. However, the actual story of the fic doesn’t differ much from the canon plot, which makes it a little less interesting to write, and also difficult to pick up, because frankly I don’t remember shit anymore about canon.  Under the cut: (8,300 words total) 3,000 words of what would be the next chapter (ending about halfway through), then a rough draft of the second half of the chapter. After that, there’s a super-rough draft/ outline of the next several chapters, followed by a bunch of notes from when I was initially planning.  NOTE: Tumblr completely destroyed all formatting, so this should be full of italics, which implies thinking, but instead you’ll just have to puzzle it out.  Similarly, my notes have a bunch of bolding and some strikethrough, which probably doesn’t work either. Sorry. 

Takes place directly after “Retouch” (chapter 2) : 

Chapter 3 

It was just a few minutes later that Toshinori was hit with a spike of pleasure that he really shouldn't have been surprised by. He was finishing up some paperwork for UA though and wouldn't be getting ready for bed for a while, so instead of following through with the echo of Izuku's intense sensation, he just took a deep calming breath and willed himself to leave it alone. However, he did take a moment to send Izuku a well-timed text saying simply, | Sleep tight |. He still wasn't sure if the boy was aware of what he was doing to him, but he figured he'd just tip him off a little bit instead of asking outright. Not yet.

Izuku responded with a cute, embarrassed | ^^; you too |, and Toshinori laughed. So he hadn't expected to be called out on it, huh? Well, they could talk about it later; maybe over the weekend, if Suzuki's papers didn't scare him off. (And even then they'd probably still want to talk about at least a few things. Even if Izuku suddenly wanted nothing to do with him, even if they never saw each other again (a chilling thought), they'd still be affecting each other like this for the rest of their lives. It warranted at least a short conversation.)

Most likely, though... Most likely it would be a long conversation they'd be having, if Toshinori's impression of Inko was anything to go by. If it were just him and Izuku, who knew if they'd ever do much serious talking. It was far too tempting to just sit side by side with their hands tangled together and feel. So, it was probably good that Izuku's mother had such a strong hand in the situation-- and it was definitely good for both of them that she was such a reasonable woman. He knew she would probably bring up all the right topics (the things he still hadn't really researched; Suzuki wasn't going to be pleased with his ignorance), and ask all the right questions, and be super tactful about the whole thing, so he didn't fret about it, focusing instead on just getting through the week.

Easier said than done, he'd have told you, if you asked him at any point during those next few days, but eventually it was done, and he was standing outside the Midoriyas' apartment door with a briefcase in one hand and the other poised to knock. But before he could make a sound, the door opened, and Izuku was standing there, looking up at him with the brightest eyes.

“Hi,” he said, the simple word both enthusiastic and shy. His smile was impossibly wide, sending his freckles up into his eyes. “I, um, I could tell you were there,” he answered, before Toshinori could even ask how he'd known to open the door. Without further ado, Izuku reached out and took his hand, leading him into the apartment. They both breathed deep, relieved sighs as soon as they touched. Three days had just been too much.

Inside, Inko was doing dishes. “Oh, Toshinori, hi,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “I'll be done here in just a minute. Izuku said you have some papers for us to look at?”

“At my manager's insistence,” he explained. Guided by Izuku, he took a seat next to him at the kitchen table, their hands still joined, and set the briefcase up where his other hand could find what he needed. He pulled the stack of papers out and set them in the middle of the table.

“How's your week been?” Izuku asked quietly, as they waited for Inko to join them.

“It's been fine,” Toshinori answered, though the emotion rolling around in his chest said 'I missed you', and he was fairly sure Izuku could feel it.

The boy squeezed his hand at the feeling and replied, “Me too,” in response to the unspoken sentiment.

Drying her hands off on a dishtowel, Inko sat down across from them and gave the pair of them an appraising (but ultimately approving) look, before she slid the stack of papers over to her. “What have we got here?” she asked, apparently rhetorically, as she didn't wait for Toshinori to attempt to explain. She read through each page carefully and then passed it over to Izuku, who seemed mildly surprised but also read each one before sliding it over to Toshinori. (He skimmed them again for familiarity's sake, but he'd already read through them in detail with Suzuki a day or two before.)

Other than a 'hmm' here and there, Inko didn't make any comments until they were through the entire stack, which took about an hour. (Although she did stop to tell Toshinori to make himself at home, when she realized he might be thirsty or something.) It was a very quiet hour, and it would have been unnerving for Toshinori if he hadn't still had Izuku latched onto him, feeding him wisps of emotion as he read.

Once they'd gone through the whole stack, Inko started over from the beginning, and began to point out little details here and there and ask questions.

“I think most of it is reasonable enough,” she said. “We're not entitled to any of your income or royalties; that's fine. And we can't talk to the media about you. I'm alright with that. Izuku?”

Izuku nodded. “That's okay. I wasn't going to.”

“But this part here--” She pointed at it. “--says we're not allowed to tell anyone about the situation at all unless we have express written permission. That seems sort of... broad.”

Toshinori looked at the passage that Inko had indicated. “Uh, right. I told Suzuki I didn't think it was necessary, but he claims it's a safety precaution.”

“For you,” Inko said, and she did sound accusatory, but not overly much. “What happens if we break the contract? Suing us won't get you very much.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Toshinori tried to say, but Inko continued on.

“What if we need to tell someone and you're not around to give us permission? Like, Izuku's doctors? It just seems unreasonable. Dangerous, even. I get that you want to protect your status, but--”

Toshinori could feel Izuku begin to speak before he could hear the sound. “It's fine, mom,” he said. “It's not just for him. It's to protect us too. Remember that story a couple years ago? There was that lady who was kidnapped by villains because they thought they could use her to get to her husband?”

Inko pursed her lips, a slightly sour face. She clearly remembered the story, and how the woman had been tortured just to hurt her husband. Toshinori remembered it too; it had made him sick. It would have made anyone sick, especially anyone who was close to their soulmate.

“That's probably what Mr. Suzuki was thinking of,” Izuku added softly, and Toshinori could tell that he didn't quite believe in Suzuki's altruism (hard for him to, when he could feel Toshinori's own skepticism about the man), but that he did still believe the reasoning was fair.

A bit subdued, Inko nodded. “Well of course we won't go around telling everyone. I... just think it's a little silly to have to get it in writing like this.”

“You're right,” Toshinori said, shaking his head. “Leave that one, then. I'll get Suzuki to take it out.”

It went like that for another hour or so, Inko pointing out things she wasn't sure about and Toshinori mostly telling her to just cross them out, because honestly, Suzuki was going to be pissed, but who cared? There was no one in the world who mattered more right now than Izuku, and that necessarily made his mother pretty important too. Toshinori would do whatever it took to make them comfortable, and his manager could just deal with it.

By the time they were done, they'd tossed out about half of the papers and scratched through parts of most of the rest of them, and were left with a reasonable list of promises that read roughly like this:

The Midoriyas could not talk to the media about All Might, and they couldn't knowingly do anything that would jeopardize his career, and Izuku couldn't act in any way that would hinder All Might's ability to do his job as a hero. That was pretty much it, though the basic meaning was hidden in so many superfluous details that it had their heads spinning.

As for Toshinori, he would not infringe upon the Midoriyas' anonymity, or use his status to coerce or extort them in any way, and he would be responsible for any financial issues that resulted from their connection (including, but not limited to, doctor's bills and lawyer's fees).

Honestly though, they all knew that these were pretty moot points. If Izuku or his family broke any of these rules, there was really nothing that All Might's lawyers could do about it. And if All Might failed to uphold his end of the bargain, the Midoriyas could take him to court for it, but it would be inviting far more trouble than it was worth.

More than anything, though, they trusted each other enough for this whole paper-signing situation to be mostly just laughable. Getting the papers to Suzuki was not a high priority (well, he might have thought so, but he was a failure of a manager if he actually expected such a quick turnaround, after all these years), so Toshinori didn’t hurry off, instead offering to take the two out for lunch. “Oh, thank you, Toshinori,” Inko said sweetly, “but I’ve got some work to finish up. Why don’t you two go out and take advantage of the nice day?” At his elbow, Toshinori could feel Izuku’s slight surprise echoing against his own. Although Inko had only been supportive so far, they still couldn’t help expecting that she was going to try to keep them apart-- though maybe they were just projecting their reasonable fears about society onto the only other person who knew just yet. But whether or not she might be more strict about them seeing each other in the future, she seemed fine with it just now, and they were grateful. “Thanks,” Izuku told her with a sunny grin, while Toshinori nodded in agreement. “Want us to bring you anything?” Inko shook her head. “Just be back before it’s late! And stay safe!” They promised they’d be careful (in every possible way), and left the apartment together, walking close by but with their hands in their respective pockets-- the safest place for them, when they would have wandered if left to their own devices, gravitated naturally toward each other and the fulfilling feeling they provided. “So what did you think of the papers?” Toshinori asked, a relevant icebreaker to start conversation once they were on their way. “I hope they didn’t seem too strict.” Izuku grinned, and drifted close enough to bump their arms together. “They seemed fine,” he said, apparently unbothered by them. “Honestly, I’d sign whatever I had to. It’s already crazy that I even got to meet you. So, whatever I have to do now… I’ll do it.” That smile was an absolute slice of sunshine, and if Toshinori wasn’t warm just by their proximity, it would have done the job. 

They wandered for some time, down towards the city center where they might find something for lunch (maybe something other than ramen, so they could expand the list of foods they knew they both liked), chatting a little. The topics were never anything consequential; Toshinori thought Izuku was still a little nervous around him and wasn’t sure what to say. He understood the feeling, even without a physical link, rather feeling that way himself. But Izuku also had the natural anxiousness of the young and quirkless (he remembered feeling that way), so Toshinori tried to guide the conversation in comfortable directions. Heroes were always a safe topic, and one with no end of iterations. They’d walked a few casual miles, keeping their attention slightly on their surroundings in case a good restaurant caught their eye, and were in the middle of discussing Kamui Woods when something else caught their attention. In the distance a block or so, there was a crowd gathered, their exclamations and worried murmurs rising to a concerning pitch just as an explosion shook the area. Many of the citizens shrieked and ran for cover, but plenty of them were still huddled around in a nervous fashion, like people observing either a train wreck or a predator from which prey could have no hope of escaping. Toshinori became aware of Izuku latching on to his arm more than he strictly felt it, the young man’s concern bleeding over into him and mixing with his own. He could feel Izuku’s natural empathy coming strong through the connection, something he’d only glimpsed the times before. There was something happening nearby, something that frightened and worried everyone; should he help? What could he even do? Should he stay out of the way? After all, they’d only just found each other, and to lose Toshinori now would be devastating; to be found out might be even worse! Izuku would hate himself if he ruined All Might’s career by causing a scandal, but he couldn’t just sit back if someone was in danger and, ahh, if only he had powers, if only he could do more than cling and be a burden to his soulmate and-- Oh, Toshinori thought. These were not his fears; they were Izuku’s. It was Izuku’s desire to help whoever might be in trouble, his desire and his desire and that was right, he wanted to help too. Of course he did. He was a hero, wasn’t he? There was only so worried he could be for his own safety and his reputation and Izuku shouldn’t worry either because it would be okay and I am here and it was amazing-- he really was the right one for him. The perfect soulmate, and maybe something more, but that was something he could think of later. The screams were louder now, and the worried murmurs too, and as an explosion shook the windows of a building half a block down they agreed they couldn’t turn away, not when there was a chance they could do something, anything. Even if there was no power left, it was still his duty, and he didn’t have to do this but yes he did. “You’re at your limit?” Izuku asked, glancing up at him through his fluffy bangs, concern bleeding out of him through more than just their physical connection. It couldn’t have been much more than a guess, but from his expression Toshinori could see that Izuku somehow knew it, like an intuition. 

He nodded. “Essentially,” he replied. He wasn’t sure how to explain it in detail, but hoped a more nuanced understanding of it would flow through their bond. “I always have a reserve amount, but it’s… not much.” Izuku seemed to get it. “Maybe we can just… go see, if there’s something we can do.” That seemed fair; that seemed like the least they could do. Maybe there was something, some way to help. Inspired by each other, they jogged over to the scene and the crowd surrounding whatever trainwreck was keeping their attention so strongly. Toshinori froze down to his veins when they saw what was the cause of the commotion. It was a mutant; the same mutant he was sure he’d captured just the other day. Yes, he’d been distracted by Izuku’s presence, but he distinctly remembered turning the water bottle full of sludge over to the police before absconding with his new soulmate up to the rooftop. Izuku’s arm brushed Toshinori’s as he stepped closer in a subconscious bid at safety. How had the mutant escaped? Was it perhaps a different man after all? A twin, or someone with the same quirk? Had Izuku done something wrong? Distracted All Might from his task and caused the villain to escape? Was it the police’s fault? He glanced down at Izuku, who glanced up at him, and Toshinori shook his head. It’s not your fault, he said wordlessly, or Don’t worry about all that. And Izuku nodded, back on track after a momentary lapse of focus. How and why the mutant was here was of little concern. They both turned back to the scene at hand. “Okay, stand back and I’ll try to handle this,” Toshinori said, looking down at Izuku in a way he hoped was reassuring, and knowing anyway that he didn’t have to; Izuku could feel his determination, and every little ounce of worry that things might not go as planned. It was a nuance that Toshinori had learned to deal with in his life, and it was something Izuku was going to have to deal with as well. (Though given the boy’s penchant for overthinking, perhaps it wouldn’t be that much of a trial after all.) “Do you have enough energy?” Izuku asked nervously, obviously not wanting… well, all the things that could go wrong if Toshinori ran out at the wrong time. Toshinori laughed in soft self-depreciation. “Probably not,” he admitted. “But I’ll do what I can. That’s what it means to be a hero, right?” With Izuku’s arm still brushing his, he could feel the boy’s admiration, and it doubled in him and gave rise to a heroic rush he didn’t think he’d felt for years. Still, he waited for the right moment. That was another thing about being a hero; you couldn’t rush in blindly (not with his level of experience, anyway). He watched as the mutant swung his head around, like a cornered animal watching viciously for its enemies, and he could just about guess when it was going to let its guard down. Almost… he thought, his muscles tensing in anticipation. But just as he was about to spring forward, he felt a twinge of panic from Izuku’s side of the connection. It was a spike of recognition. Kacchan! 

The roughest of drafts: 

Izuku freaks out and runs to try to rescue him and they're all surprised when he actually manages to do some slight damage to the mutant; it's not enough to defeat him, but enough to stun him into dropping Bakugo, at which point Toshi transforms and rushes to finish him off. Tl;dr, turns out that a very tiny amount of Toshi’s power has become available to Izuku. (Make some note of the pain aspect, Toshi feeling Izuku’s pain from using OfA.) 

Afterward, when Toshi is talking to reporters (and Izuku has managed to avoid at least a little of the reprimanding from canon, due to appearing to have some power) Izuku can feel the discomfort, Toshi’s power draining. Perhaps he plays the fan, comes to shake his hand as thanks for saving him and they're both a little surprised that it eases the discomfort, seems to give Toshi back a little strength. Izuku had just done it as an instinct, but in light of what had just happened with the power sharing, they're both very curious how this whole soulmate thing is going to work. 

Toshi excuses himself from the crowd before too long and goes to find Izuku. He finds him being confronted by Bakugo, who knows that something is strange but doesn't know what (and is upset like in canon about Izuku trying to help him). Toshi tries to stay out of sight until Bakugo runs off, feeling that Izuku is confident enough in his ability to handle this. When they rejoin, Izuku explains who Bakugo is. 

“[But enough about that.] Are you okay?” 

They join hands. Toshi can feel that Izuku is fine but still he says, “It's you I'm concerned about. Do you know what you did back there?”

“That was your quirk,” he said, and Toshi nodded.

“Some of it, at least. Is your arm okay?” 

Izuku stretched his arm out, wiggling his fingers. “It aches a little, but I'm okay. I'm just… I've never done anything like that before. It felt… kind of amazing.” 

Toshi could tell that it was a little more than an ache, but that Izuku wasn't lying. It really wasn't hurting him much, and he was really feeling exhilarated. He remembered feeling like that when he first took the quirk himself. 

Izuku’s side of the connection was curious and Toshi realized he could feel him thinking about his past. He debated with himself for a minute. Was this the right time to tell Izuku about his past? He would have to tell him some time, and there was no reason to wait. “I felt the same way the first time I used it,” he said. “When my mentor gave it to me. I was about your age.” 

The feeling of surprise that Izuku emanated was not as much of a shock as he expected, more of a warm melting feeling, a soft realization. “You were ...quirkless? Someone gave you your quirk? But how?” 

Toshi tells the story as they head back to the apartment, but they take a detour to sit somewhere and finish talking. (Way before this, Izuku texts his mom to tell her what happened and that they're fine and they'll be home in a while.) It's gotten dark by the time Toshi has finished telling of Nana and AfO and needing to pass OfA on, and they're sitting on a bench in a corner of a park or something. 

“It was just an idea before,” Toshi says, “but now I'm pretty sure it's the right one. Would you be willing to take it? One for All?” 

The surprise this time really is a shock, and it nearly knocks the breath out of him. “...Really?” 

“You can tell I'm serious,” Toshi says with a smirk, and then he nods. “Yes. Really. It's the only thing that makes sense.” 

He thinks of the reasons: he needs to pass it on, and Izuku wants a quirk, needs one to get into UA. And he's defenseless without one, a real danger with them together now. And he's already shown that he can handle it, at least a little. 

“Should I think about it?” Izuku asks, looking unsure. He's probably thinking about all the things they talked about with his mother earlier, trying to be careful. But Toshi can tell he really wants it, and that's enough for him. 

“If you want,” he says. “Take your time.” He knows that Izuku will say yes. (He's less sure if Inko will agree, but he knows that between the two of them, they can convince her.) 

He can feel Izuku trembling, and it's with excitement he thinks. “Thank you,” Izuku says, almost breathlessly, and he leans forward and kisses Toshi, softly and quickly, and then looks him in the eyes for a short moment, twists his body in his direction more and leans in for another kiss. This one is a little deeper, lingering, not obscene but less than entirely chaste and Toshi can feel so so much through it, especially as he allows himself to kiss back. They don't take it far; Toshi can feel that Izuku knows there are boundaries, though Toshi is nervous about himself, unsure if he would be able to keep himself from crossing them, to stop when it was time. He's a bit anxious, but he's glad Izuku is reasonable, and he's excited and he's happy and they're melting into each other even though they've stopped kissing and it is finally Izuku who speaks up to interrupt them getting stuck in their twofold thoughts. 

“I should get home. I have to tell my mom about all this. Am I… Can I tell her? About OfA?” 

Toshi nods. “It's a big part of all of this. I guess she should know. And that'll give you a chance to talk it over with her. Decide if you want it.” 

‘I do want it,’ he could tell Izuku was thinking, although maybe not in so many words. Izuku was trying to be patient and make smart decisions. He was doing his best to be worthy of being Toshi’s soulmate, and Toshi was overcome with affection for him. He hugged him close, and even more than the kissing, that was the most they'd ever felt, the most contact they'd ever made. It was less electric than kissing, but like an overblown, overexposed photo. They stayed there like that for a little while before they silently agreed to get up and go back. 

The end of chapter 3, more or less. 

Chapter four. 

Izuku took a week to act like he was thinking about it, but in truth he'd decided almost immediately, and convinced his mom that it was a good idea (or that she should let him do it at least) on that first night, after Toshi had walked him home and said goodbye. 

“Izuku! I saw on the news about that mutant attack! You're really alright? And Toshinori, and Katsuki?” 

“We're fine mom! Toshinori saved us. But…” A pause. “With dad, have you ever… accidentally used his quirk before?” 

She raised an eyebrow at him, looking a little worried. “I can feel when he's using it, but i've never breathed fire myself.” 

Yeah, it wasn't anything he'd ever heard of before. Maybe it was because most people's quirks weren't that strong. Maybe it was because he was quirkless. Maybe… well there were a lot of reasons it could be. It didn't matter that much why; it had happened, and they'd both felt it. 

“I used it. All Might’s power.  Just a little bit of it.”

“Are you okay?” 

He said he was fine, he thought, but Inko was skeptical. She remembered some times when he was younger, when he thought an injury was less serious than it was. She convinced him to go to the doctor tomorrow and he agreed, dismissively as he was so invested in telling her about Toshinori’s offer. She's a bit nervous about the idea but it doesn't take long for her to give in. 

At the doctor's tomorrow (maybe only mentioned, not a scene) it turns out that Izuku did in fact fracture a bone in his arm. (Is a cast needed for that? Probably not.) 

Later that afternoon, Toshinori texted him and asked if he was okay; his arm felt a little off. Izuku responds casually that it was just a fracture and he's fine, and Toshi fusses over him a little, apologizes for putting him in that situation. Izuku really is not bothered by it. Toshi doesn't ask if Izuku has decided and Izuku wonders if he's changed his mind. A week later, he says that he's decided to take OfA, if he's still offering it, and Toshi says that he'd be happy to give it to him, if he's really sure. But! There's no way Izuku is going to be able to handle it in his current state. They begin to train (though not until Izuku’s fracture heals). In the meantime, Izuku continues school, and Toshi continues work, and they see each roughly every weekend. Sometimes they'll meet out for lunch or sometimes Inko invites Toshi over for dinner. 

(Cover some catch up. Mention Suzuki being annoyed about the edits to the paperwork etc)

It's a few weeks before they start to train, but of course it's much less covert than in canon. Inko knows exactly where they're going; Toshi has discussed it with them over dinners and such. He doesn't tell them that his plan is for Izuku to clean up the trash on the beach until they get there though. 

The next several months are a more efficient training than canon. After Toshi is pretty sure Izuku has grown strong enough, they try the power-share again, and Izuku is able to start using the very tiny percentage of OfA, sometimes. It works if he's recently been in physical contact with Toshi, and fades after a minute or two. It's not enough to do anything very heroic, but it is a significant boost to Izuku’s natural strength, allowing him to move items several times his normal weight limit. 

(They also find that Izuku can actually use a version of OfA that is more than twice as powerful as his tiny version, only if Toshi is currently in contact with him. However, Izuku hurt himself the first time they did that, so they avoid it until much later.) 

They still don't have a perfect grasp on Izuku’s ability to handle it by the time they transfer it to him, but it's better than canon, and they do it earlier so he has more chance to practice. He has at least some ability to use it at half-power before the entrance exam (chapter 5). The only reason he hurts himself so badly there is because he freaked out and wasn't careful. 

Training is pretty fun for them. It's more like play than in canon, with Izuku showing off, carrying Toshi around, silly stuff like that. He's moderately less concerned about being a hero, mostly because Toshi is so constantly encouraging so he doesn't worry about it. And he knows that even if he doesn't make it somehow, he's still got Toshi and nothing can take that away. 

Aside from training, they still spend a good amount of time together. Events and holidays and such. Izuku meets Suzuki. Toshi invites Izuku (and probably Inko) to his place once or twice, though they still spend most of their time out or at the Midoriyas’ apartment. Inko politely requests that they not stay at Toshi’s place. (She isn't /too concerned, but she just wants them to know that she has some kind of expectations about how they'll handle their relationship. She half expects Izuku to go behind her back in some of those regards.) 

Izuku has his 15th birthday not long after they start training (might have to look this one up) or thereabouts. He has mixed emotions about this, and about inviting Toshi to his ‘party’ (probably just a fancy-ish dinner with his mother (maybe dad too?) Since he doesn't have any friends). He wants Toshi there, of course, but he's somewhat embarrassed about still being only 15, and doesn't want to draw attention to it. On the other hand, he's also excited to be getting older, closer and closer to the age that it would be appropriate for he and Toshi to act however they liked. (This birthday scene goes in early middle of chapter.) 

More holidays: Christmas, new years, Valentine's day. Maybe just slight mentions of those. 

Chapter ends when Toshi wishes Izuku luck at the entrance exam. He kisses him and Izuku is a little shocked because Toshi is rarely if ever the one to initiate that sort of thing. He heads to the exam, excited and confident. 

Chapter 5. 

Toshi heads to UA (potentially along with Izuku), and goes to watch the exam with his fellow teachers. He's met them several times and they know about his injury and resting form, but only Nedzu knows that Izuku is his soul mate. Most of the others are familiar enough with him to know that he doesn't have one, and many assume that he's one of the few who will never have one. 

When the exam starts though, they might be able to tell that he is on edge, excited but nervous. However, they are all focused as well. It's not until Izuku smashes the robot (and everyone is shocked) and Toshi reacts to the pain that they notice the connection between them. He's not incapacitated (like Izuku is) but he is distressed and in pain and having to deal with the commotion from the other teachers. (Choose one teacher to perhaps help him out.) 

As soon as he's able, he goes to Izuku. (At some point he calls Inko to let her know what's happened, and she's worried and upset and he has to talk her down until she realizes that he's upset too.) In the infirmary, Izuku is knocked out, which Toshi already knew, could tell because the pain subsided very quickly. Chiyo looks up when he comes in, obviously connecting the dots. 

“He made quite a mess of himself,” she tells him, pulling up a chair next to Izuku’s bed for him. She tells him the details of what Izuku broke.  “But he'll recover.” 

“Thank you,” Toshi says, reaching out to carefully run his hands over Izuku’s arm, laying his hand on the side of his face, thinking about if this was a good idea, etc. 

Eventually, Izuku wakes up and they talk. A few people might come by in the meantime. Izuku is eventually clear to go home. Toshi takes him. Izuku asks if he passed, knowing that Toshi was there, and all Toshi can say is that he thought he did a good job, but he doesn't know for sure. (He later finds out that Izuku scored quite well, but refrains from telling him, letting Izuku get the letter from the school.) 

He gets a phone call from Izuku after the letters have gone out, and he can feel a sense of excitement even before he picks up. Izuku is crying on the other end. “Why didn't you tell me I made it?!” But he is obviously extremely happy.

Out on patrol or something, Toshi can't stop grinning for the rest of the day. When someone asks him, he just says that he's excited for new opportunities. 

Chapter 6

Izuku and Toshi both begin at UA. Izuku has already made friends with a few people from the exam, and of course he knows Bakugo. Bakugo is extra suspicious of him, confused about how he's got a quirk suddenly, and knowing that he's been acting strange the whole past year. He might even suspect that they're both related to izuku’s soul mate, considering the timing. 

School is, of course, plenty for them to focus on, but izuku and Toshi are still very focused on each other as well. Toshi treats izuku much the same as in canon, inviting him for lunch and etc, “playing favorites”. But since the other teachers know they're soulmates (at least, some do?) they don't criticize him quite as much for it. 

Toshi and izuku continue to progress in their relationship, lightly, balancing their personal and professional relationships. They act very casual around each other and have to be careful not to be too casual in front of the class. 

Izuku makes friends, which is sort of new for him. He loves them and wants to be open with them about his situation, but he can't. He's thought about telling, but he knows he can't break the rules they set. It's harder when perhaps the rumor (true rumor? What do you call that?) goes around about how he was affected by the soul link pain when he was little. He can easily tell his friends that it's not bad anymore, but it's hard having to pretend he doesn't know who it is. (Also may have to decide about sub-pairings? Otherwise it will be very hard for any of the other students to talk about their experiences. If they had mates in the class (like most ships) they would likely find out very quickly.) 

Most people won't immediately assume it's All Might, even if they spend a lot of time together. 

Key point: they hone their energy sharing, as Toshi becomes a bit exhausted some days. Simply being in contact for a while (lunch or something) acts as a recharge for him. When the other staff figure this out, they're much more accepting of izuku hanging out in the staff lounge. 

(Need to rewatch to see what the first few weeks are like.) 

Maybe include some scenes with Inko.

Chapter 7

This is the USJ incident. Toshi gets caught up in work and is late to help at USJ, but less late than in canon because he feels/hears Izuku crying out for him. Don't have to describe most of the USJ events because it's from Toshi POV, but have to decide when he gets there and if it all goes more smoothly. 

The way that Toshi and izuku act towards each other (calling by their first names, extreme familiarity and working together) is what starts to tip off some of the students, though it's not relevant at the time. 

The encounter is a little easier this time, with the power-share (this is probably the first time they try it out seriously) and the desperation to save each other (and the others) echoing between them. 

Any character who takes notice of their bond and quirk in canon is likely to notice the soul link instead. 

After the incident, emotions are running high. This was the first time they were honestly scared of losing each other. They want to hold each other for a very long time. Perhaps they are seen by some of the students (who maybe chalk it up to generic relief over the situation, but would definitely file it away for later). Later, they still don't want to let each other go, and perhaps spend their first night together (not necessarily sexual or anything), Inko having not allowed them to do so before. 

Emotional wrap-up; they're scared but calmed by each other's presence. They know they can handle the future together. 

END? (of this particular story, probably)  Brainstorming, notes, and ideas for further fics in the series 

And the notes below:  (my shorthand for the characters is IM = Izuku Midoriya, AM= All Might, IMmom = Inko (not shorthand in that case I know lol, I think I didn’t want people reading over my shoulder)) >>>"Touch" sequel

A lot of people actually expressed an interest in this, so let me jot down my ideas-- as well as their ideas. 

AM and IM have met, and now keep in touch. How has this changed their lives? Well now whenever they feel a strange pain, they'll call or text each other to make sure they're okay. They're both aware of what their relationship would be, if IM was older, and so is his mom, and so is pretty much everyone else that knows. In fact, most people assume that they're 'together' anyway, and it causes some tension. They try to keep it mostly under wraps, but it's nearly impossible. IM's friends and classmates are sure to notice, and AM's manager thinks maybe they should just come out with it. For their part, IM and AM just want to enjoy each others' presence and keep their moral concerns personal. IM is of course more brave (between the two of them), while AM knows he's 'supposed' to refrain. In public, they're both very good about it. 

Some time in the future, after they've really adjusted to each other, and the drama (at least from their friends and family) has died down, they take to being heroes together, as they at some point realize how much more receptive they are when they're together/touching. 

Questions! : 

--Does IM still get OfA? (I'm leaning towards yes? Most of the rest of the story wouldn’t make sense if he didn’t.) 

--How do friends/family react? Some people are jealous? BK particularly? IMmom is as supportive as possible, but she still worries for IM. As time goes on, if IM get OfA, she worries for AM too. (What about AM's cop friend?? I dunno, haven't thought about him much.) 

--How do media/people react? Manager wants to tell, because he knows people will find out and it's better to come out with it before they do. But AMIM want to stay private. Perhaps at the tournament, it is no longer possible to avoid media attention. Someone notices AM's discomfort when IM fights TS, notices IM look to the stands for AM before doing something reckless. When they find out, it's all anyone wants to talk about. AM's thin form becomes very useful for avoiding the media. 

--Perhaps around then, IM is kidnapped to be used against AM? 

--When things are calm, AMIM often text each other just to talk-- sometimes in the night. "I miss you" IM texts. "Is that what you were thinking of?" AM asks, aware that IM is awake and wound up, and winding him up too. This is before they've really worked out how things are supposed to go between them. IM is bold; AM is holding himself back.

-- IM goes to UA, begins to use quirk. -- AMIM work harder at managing IM’s abilities than in canon, because its effects are more obvious on them. -- AM starts at UA as a teacher; AMIM have to hide their link. IM has not told anyone. AM had to tell the staff. -- When the villains attack, AM gets there sooner, as he’s tipped off by their link. Things happen about the same. -- (Should I bother to include that part if nothing is significantly different? Leaning towards no. Maybe just touch on it.) -- At the tournament, that’s when people take notice of AMIM’s link. (IM’s friends have already begun to notice.) -- After that, it’s all anybody wants to talk about. AMIM are in the spotlight, though UA tries to protect them. -- The media begins to gossip about them, some piecing the puzzle together about their quirks. Some guess that IM is AM’s son (and has inherited his quirk). (It’s not unheard of for family to be platonic soulmates.) -- Manager makes them come out with an official statement finally, despite their reluctance. -- IM receives many invitations to intern with heroes. For safety’s sake, they turn them all down, except Torino. -- IM goes to train with Torino, covertly, while AM stays behind to deal with the PR mess. -- Things happen about as usual. Maybe only touch on this part as well? Not super relevant to the AU. -- IM thinks about AM during the fight with HK, and AM wants to get to him, knowing something is wrong, but knows he won’t make it in time. (Remember, “Touch” was 3rd person limited-omniscient. POV can be from IM, AM, and other relevant characters.) -- Would AM be allowed to test IM during the midterms? Maybe gloss over that part. Especially towards the end of Season 2, go more vaguely into the ending, to avoid making it obvious that you have no idea what happens after that. XD; Isolate the emotional core of the story (the emotional drama or problem) to solve in the final scenes, even if it avoids canon entirely. That’s preferable, in fact. Points to write, unrelated to canon occurrences: : -- AMIM want to spend a lot of time together, but they must balance their responsibilities. IMmom is pretty understanding and allows them a lot of freedom. -- Manager (needs name) is less understanding, hounds them to release a press statement. -- Most of their time together is spent in private or secluded places. Obvs, they frequent the beach for training. -- They often text and talk to each other on the phone, nightly if they haven’t seen each other. -- AM is still struggling a little bit with the fact that IM is so young, but he’s impressed by IM’s emotional maturity. -- IM is over the moon about AM, not enduring nearly the moral struggle AM is. He’s not an idiot, and he’s not oblivious, but he doesn’t think that there’s anything particularly wrong with them messing around a little. He’s considerate enough not to wind AM up when he’s busy or they’re in public, although sometimes he can’t help how he feels. (Being ‘turned on’ isn’t really strong enough of a feeling to cross the link; only acting on it is.) -- For his part, AM (at first, at least) tries not to touch himself, or at least only when he thinks IM is sleeping. Eventually they come to the conclusion that that’s not working out well-- and the most logical way to handle it, so as not to inconvenience either of them, is to go at the same time/ at set times. -- That is the most AM allows them to do (hugging/cuddling is totally fine, limited kissing is okay), and even that seems like too much to him, but he compromises with himself because he knows it would be worse if he didn’t. (It’s not as if he’s going to convince a 16-year-old to stop touching himself for 2+ years, and though his own urges are less frequent, it’s been uncomfortable trying to hold back entirely.) He doesn’t allow them to touch each other, and IM is actually pretty okay with this. Well, he respects it, at least. He’s just happy to have AM in whatever capacity he can. Some notes regarding the universe: -- laws regarding consent ages are a bit more lax, given the soulmate thing. AMIM would be more-or-less within their right to do whatever they want with each other, as long as IMmom is okay with it. And even if she weren’t, they could apply to be married, even at IM’s young age, by passing a test that proves they’re soulmates.(I don't think they'll do this. Manager would have a heart attack. ...then again, maybe he'd like the idea…) -- however, there is still certainly a stigma about age-difference relationships, particularly where one party is underage. 

Story 1 plot points to mention our resolve:

-- telling IM that his mom already knew

-- AM coming to terms with IM being a fan

-- AM telling IM his real name

-- AM telling manager about IM immediately. (Might be a good point to start with.) 

To time skip or not to time skip? I'm leaning towards not. New outline, after I've written a bit. 

1. AM talks to manager, Suzuki, and tells him about the whole situation, almost entirely honest. They decide to keep it a secret until AM has a successor. (AM POV) 

2. AMIM go on a date, where they talk about both applying to UA. IM wonders what AM is not telling him. They hold hands. AM brings up the paperwork Suzuki wants them to sign, and IM agrees. (IM POV) 

3. AM sees something that convinces him to offer OFA to IM. (AM POV) 

4. IM begins to train for OfA. (IM POV) 

5. IM goes to UA entrance exam. (AM POV) 

6. They begin at UA, and try to figure out how to act around each other, after they've had so much private time over the past months. (IM POV) 

7. The villains attack UA, AMIM touch-team to beat them, and people start to really put their relationship together. (AM POV)

END S1. Ugh how did this get so long that I have to separate it by season?! 

Touch2 titles:

Some related words: Touch, feel, sense, sensation, emotion, Touch, touched, touching, touches, touchstone, touch-tone, aftertouch, finishing touch, retouch, out of touch, in touch, untouched, Touched can mean: physically touched (he touched my arm), lightly mentioned (he touched upon the issue), emotionally moved (he was touched by the story), brought together metaphorically (their lives touched), affected (his life was touched by his decisions) Touch, taste, smell, see, hear

Leaning towards using other ‘touch’ words for different parts of overall story. 

Touch - original story

Retouch(ed) - this story 

Touch-up - maybe the next part

Finishing touch - the last story (though there might be another in between) 

Untouchable - first nsfw side story, before izuku is of age, on the phone with each other, feeling the echoes of their actions. 

Untouched - second nsfw side story, when izuku comes of age and they finally get together physically. 

Aftertouch - epilogue (years in future, maybe, working together) 

In touch - side stories taking place in the timeline of the story

Out of touch - side stories taking place before or after story, or from different character's point of view or about different characters. 

Chapter quotes:  Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity. 

-Edwin Hubbell Chapin (Chapter 1, Retouch) The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart. 

-Helen Keller The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: a human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him, a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create - so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating. 

-Pearl Buck Aim for your star, no matter how far, you must reach high above and touch your life with love, you must never look back, but charge on! Attack! See your goal your star of desire, see it red hot, feel it burning, you must be obsessed with it to make it your true yearning, be ready my friends for when you truly believe it, you will certainly achieve it and by all of God’s universal laws you will always receive it! 

-Bob Smith We do not do well except when we know where the best is and when we are assured that we have touched it and hold its power within us. (lol god this one is awfully literal) 

-Joseph Joubert If you can learn from hard knocks, you can also learn from soft touches. 

-Carolyn Kenmore, Mannequin: My Life as a Model When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. 

-Henri Nouwen And that’s everything I’ve got about Touch/Retouch! I might clean up that third chapter and post it some day, but *shrug*. 

[mistletouchunderthetree]

the last WIP of eddie month! i saved the longest for last (it’s over 11k words lmao) and hopefully you all enjoy it even though it’s forever unfinished. this was meant to be my big bang fic and then life happened and i was never able to finish it - it even has a few plot points outlined at the end (but even those don’t take you to the actual end of the story, oop). anyway, happy eddie month everyone!

this was a fun experiment in which i combined my favorite parts of each canon - book, miniseries, and movies - into one weird amalgamation that probably only makes sense to me. there is canon-typical violence, homophobia including slurs (henry bowers), and mentions of suicide (stan lives, but it was close).

“Eddie?”

He groaned out loud, turning his computer monitor off and turning in his desk chair.

“Yeah, Ma?” He shouted.

“Eddie come down here, please,” she said, her voice traveling up the stairs. He rolled his eyes and left the home office and found her standing at the bottom of the stairs. He stood on the landing at the top, looking down at her. “Down here, Eddie.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes again as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Eddie, stop that! You know how dangerous that is! What if you fell and broke a leg? You know how easily bone fragments travel, Eddie, you know –“

“Yeah, Ma, I know,” he answered, ignoring her demand. “What is it?”

“I wanted to let you know you have plans on Friday evening,” she told him, beady eyes staring into his own. He walked past her, squeezing by to get through the hallway and into the kitchen. It was about time for dinner anyway, he told himself, might as well make something while he was here.

“And what plans would those be, Ma?” He asked, assuming he had to take her to bingo or the pharmacy or the emergency room. 

“You’ll be taking Vicky Beck to dinner.”

He turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Who?”

“Vicky Beck, dear,” she repeated, as if saying the name again would stoke the embers of his memory. He just looked at her blankly. She sighed, annoyance radiating off of her as she plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table. “She’s Marjorie’s daughter, Eddie. Very nice girl. Around your age, too. She’s a receptionist at one of the local doctor’s offices. I gave Marjorie a photograph of you to show her – she’s very interested.”

“No,” he said without making eye contact. He used the excuse of taking out ingredients for dinner from the pantry and refrigerator to not look at her. “I’ve told you so many times, Ma, I don’t want to date. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, Eddie,” she frowned. “I just worry! Who’s going to take care of you when I’m gone? Your health is so delicate, someone needs to be there –“

“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself,” he told her, pouring tomato sauce from a can into a pan. 

“Clearly you aren’t if you think it’s okay to use canned sauce, young man!” Sonia said, standing and smacking his hand. He huffed, putting his hands up and stepping away. “You don’t even know what’s in the disgusting preservatives they use, this stuff is full of chemicals, you’ll get cancer if you eat too much of this. I’ve told you so many times to stop buying things like this. You think you’re an adult but you don’t know, you need someone to steer you right, you make terrible decisions when no one’s around to stop you…”

“Buying canned sauce is a terrible decision? I’m the one that pays for the groceries, Ma! I should get to choose what I buy!”

She glared at him. “Edward, I’m not in the mood for your foolishness. When you stop purchasing cancer and bringing it into our home then we can talk. In the meantime, you will be going out with Vicky Beck on Friday evening. You’re too old to be alone, Eddie. My own health is beginning to falter, you’re going to need someone to take my place when I pass.”

He blinked at her. “You want me to find a woman to be my new mother when you die?”

“Do not use that tone with me, young man!”

“I’m 20, I hardly think I need to be taken care of by a surrogate mom!”

“Eddie,” she said, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek. He could smell the stench of her perfume and he did his best not to wrinkle his nose. “You have always been so… strong-willed. So full of ideas. And that would be okay, were you not sick. But you are sick, Eddie. Your delicate immune system can’t handle what others can… I’ve spent your whole life making sure you don’t go too far, to get yourself sick or hurt. And that’s what I’m doing now, with Vicky. I’m protecting you, because you need protection. No matter how hard you try to fight it, it’s the truth. So. You will see Vicky on Friday, take her to an early lunch after church on Sunday, another dinner next Wednesday, and she’ll be your girlfriend in a week’s time.”

He knew his horror was evident on his face but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. “That’s ridiculous, Ma, you can’t pick out a girlfriend for me! I don’t even want a girlfriend! And you know, just because I have asthma doesn’t mean I need protection from the big bad world, okay? I take my meds and I use my inhaler and that’s all I need! I don’t even need you! All you do is smother me, and force me into things I don’t want, so –“

“You stop that right now –“

“You know what?” He said, a burst of adrenaline-fueled courage shooting through him. He left the kitchen and started back up the stairs. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand it here anymore.”

“Eddie!” She screamed, and he knew the crocodile tears were starting. He ignored them as he grabbed a suitcase and began to pack everything that would fit.

*

Twenty-six year old Eddie Kaspbrak answered his phone, wincing when his mother’s voice came through the tinny speaker.

“Eddie? Eddie!”

“Yes, Ma, it’s me,” he said, barely containing his annoyance.

“Eddie you have to come home,” she said, sniffling. “I’ve been put in a wheelchair, Eddie, I can’t get around like I used to. I need help, you need to come home and help me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples as he felt a stress headache blooming behind his eyes. He eyed the medicine cabinet in the kitchen that held the Advil. “I’ll hire an in-house nurse, Ma, how’s that?”

“No!” She shouted, leaving him cringing. “Those nurses don’t know what they’re doing, Eddie, they’re the rejects that the hospitals and doctors offices won’t take, and I refuse it!”

He looked around his small house. He had a spare bedroom downstairs, and he supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult to add a ramp to get through the front door. With a little bit of self-hatred settling in his stomach, he said, “I’m not coming home, but you can come live with me.”

*

“You’re 32, right?” Angela asked, her fingers running through the condensation on her glass. Eddie nodded, only thinking about how disgusting it was that she wasn't using a straw. (Dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are breeding grounds for disease, Eddie, his mind mother reminded him.) “So what are you doing living with your mom?”

He huffed. “My mom lives with me, there’s a difference.”

Angela raised an eyebrow at him.

“I take care of her. She’s old and sick, she needs help with just about everything.”

“You know…” Angela trailed off, glancing around the room. They sat in a small booth in the corner of an Olive Garden only twenty minutes from Eddie’s house. He wasn’t about to pull out all the stops for a date with yet another girl his mother set him up with. “You’re not a very good date.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

She laughed a little. “I mean, sure, you’re cute, but… Nobody wants to date a guy in his thirties who lives with his mom. You probably should save that bit of information until like, date three, at least. You won’t look me in the eye, and it makes me a little nervous because you don't seem to have a problem making eye contact with anyone else. Everything about your body language screams that you don’t want to be here. With me, specifically.”

“Do you do this on all your first dates?” He asked, offended.

“Just the bad ones,” she answered. “You know, the ones with men.”

He choked.

“Oh, come on, dude, look at me,” she said, gesturing to herself. Eddie frowned; he thought her flannel and boots looked comfortable. “This look is about as gay as you can get. My mom can’t accept it; she's constantly setting me up. Usually I tell her no but she showed me a picture of you and… well, I just had to find out what your deal is.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked. His face was hot.

“Eddie,” she said in a voice meant for a young child. “Your mom has a lot in common with my mom. I mean, I hate to assume, but I can almost guarantee that, just like mine, your mom is sending you on dates with the opposite sex as a very clear nudge in the right direction.”

He gaped at her, unable to form words.

She laughed, but this time it was a bit more sympathetic. “Did you not know?”

He shook his head, then reached into his pocket to take a hit on his aspirator. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“Well, whether you are or aren’t, your mom thinks you’re gay.”

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, heart pounding against his ribcage. “I don’t – what? Why?”

“I mean, you’re a single 32 year old, for starters. I’m assuming you’ve never had a girlfriend. Had any boyfriends you kept secret? She probably would’ve caught on.”

“I’m not – I’m not –“ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Angela’s expression was changing quickly from one of amusement to one of pity. She opened her mouth to say something when the waiter stopped at their table, placing their food in front of them. They began to eat in silence (Eddie had already sanitized his knife and fork), and when they started to talk again, neither of them brought it back up.

*

There weren’t enough people for a funeral so instead they had a simple graveside memorial service in the Bangor Cemetery. One of his aunts spoke through crocodile tears so much like hers about what a good mother Sonia had been, and Eddie’s eyes stayed dry.

After, he met his three aunts at a café for a small lunch, and they got onto him when he didn’t order salad. They got onto him because he didn’t cry during the service. They got onto him for constantly keeping his poor mother in a state of such stress. They got onto him for leaving her for New York in the first place. They got onto him for not being married at 35, for not giving his mother grandchildren before she died.

He nodded and kept his mouth closed.

*

There was a method to his madness, he’d swear by it. Vitamins in the morning, followed by an anxiety pill if he needed one (he always needed one), followed by breakfast, which usually consisted of eggs (he enjoyed variety, so he made his eggs differently each day of the week – Wednesday was scrambled) and wheat toast with margarine spread on one side, the crusts cut off (the crusts are too easy to choke on, his mother’s voice said from inside his head), and then brushing his teeth. He got dressed, checked his email and the weather on his phone (a sunny day, cloud-free (but you never know, storms can just crop up out of no where – best bring your boots and rain jacket and umbrella just in case, you wouldn’t want to catch a cold and end up with pneumonia just because the weather forecast was wrong) and cool), and stepped out the door of his Queens apartment.

He walked to his stop and got on the subway, used an antibacterial wipe to clean the place where his hand would be holding onto the rail (his mind mother reminded him how easy it was to catch something that way – all you have to do is rub your nose, Eddie, and suddenly you’re sick with whatever the germ-infested subway rider that stood there before you had), and held onto his phone for the 30 minute ride. He exited at the financial district and walked for 2 minutes to his office building. He used the stairs to get to the eleventh floor (take the elevator, Eddie, you don’t want to aggravate your asthma) because he liked the slight burn in his legs by the time he made it to his floor. He stopped in the bathroom to wash his hands (you have to wash your hands, Eddie, you have to), said hello to Brianne at the front desk, and sat in the chair in front of his computer in his cubicle.

The work day tended to be boring. He spent a lot of time typing up reports, and even more time responding to emails. By his lunch break, he usually felt as though his brain was going to melt out of his ears. He popped two Advil to stave off the oncoming stress headache.

He ate lunch with his co-workers – they walked together a few blocks to a deli that made great sandwiches, and though he sat with them he didn’t talk much. In the beginning he fielded a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer, but after fifteen years they knew not to ask.

Except Daniel, who had started two weeks prior.

“So, Eddie,” he said, as they sat in the break room. He gestured at Eddie’s left hand. “I see you’re not married.”

“No,” Eddie agreed, taking a bite of sandwich. He hoped it would send a solid shut the fuck up message, but Daniel kept on.

“No? You got a girlfriend, at least? You’re what – 45?”

“40,” he said, his voice clipped.

“You’re 40 and not married? That’s rough man, what’s up with that?”

Eddie breathed in deeply, hand patting his pocket to feel for his aspirator. “Just never met the right person, I suppose.”

“Not even divorced?” Daniel asked, his voice getting higher with incredulity. Eddie bristled; it felt very much like he was being made fun of, but he didn’t know what to say. It reminded him of childhood bullies, calling him names before he even knew what they meant. He'd always talked back to - well, to whoever his tormentor had been back then. Now his brain wouldn't supply him with any quippy response, any thinly veiled insult. How had he been so brazen as a kid and so timid now? He tried but he couldn't even remember much of his childhood, like everything before he was 18 and living in Bangor with his mom had a thick haze covering it.

“Never married, no girlfriend,” he said plainly, unable to come up with anything better. He looked away.

“Boyfriend, then?” Daniel said. Eddie’s stomach turned and he flushed.

“I’m single, Daniel,” he said, before wrapping what was left of his sandwich (almost all of it) and standing. “I’m going to have lunch at my desk today, if you don’t mind.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before leaving the room, ignoring Daniel’s exclamations of “I wasn’t trying to upset him!”

He sat at his desk, fuming. He could hear the voice of someone he’d been out with once, laughing in his head.

Your mom thinks you’re gay.

But he wasn’t. And it wasn’t that strange for someone to be 40 and single. He knew plenty of people his age that weren’t married! Granted, most of them were divorced, but the point stood. Marriage wasn’t everything. Love wasn’t everything. He’d made it on his own for 40 years, and besides that he wasn’t interested in anyone. Couldn’t remember ever liking anyone enough to do anything about it. He could recognize when women were attractive, but it didn’t go beyond that. Can’t a man live alone with no romantic relationship and not get shit for it?

“Hey, Eddie,” said a voice from behind him. He spun in his chair. Jeanine stood there, a regretful frown on her red lips. “I’m so sorry about Daniel back there. Apparently he’s the type that doesn’t know when to shut up.”

(Your mom thinks you’re gay)

“A lot of that going around,” Eddie said, trying to ignore the voice in his head telling him to ask Jeanine out. He couldn’t even tell if it was his mother or someone else. It wasn’t his own voice, though.

Jeanine smiled awkwardly, like she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Right. Hopefully you’ll still eat with us tomorrow. We told Daniel to cool it.”

“No worries,” Eddie lied. “I needed to get some work done anyway.”

Jeanine glanced over his shoulder at his computer that he hadn’t turned back on. “Of course. And I wanted to let you know… This office is very accepting. There’s no… Judgment here. Just… So you know.”

Eddie pulled his aspirator from his pocket and took a hit.

(You’re sick, Eddie, you’re delicate, but I can protect you from yourself, a wife could protect you from yourself, you’ll always be sick but)

“Thank you for the sentiment, Jeanine,” he said, turning back in his chair. He heard her walk away and sagged against the backrest. Moments later, his phone rang.

He picked it up and frowned at the area code. Derry, Maine? He was… He was from there, wasn’t he? That was where he’d lived with his mother before they moved to Bangor. Derry was the town covered with thick haze that he couldn't completely conceptualize.

He answered the call with his heart in his throat, unsure why his hands were shaking so badly.

“Edward Kaspbrak speaking.”

“Eddie?” The voice said. He didn’t recognize it. “Eddie, it’s Mike. You need to come home. It’s back.”

The haze began to lift.

*

“I’m glad you made it, Eddie,” Mike said, offering a hug. Eddie warily wrapped his arms around Mike before glancing around the restaurant. 

“If I’d remembered more before I got on the plane, I probably wouldn’t have,” he said honestly. Once he started getting flashes of a rotting leper, of a decrepit house, of a clown’s drool on his face, he wanted to turn right back around. 

“How much do you remember?” Mike asked.

Just before he could answer, another voice joined them.

“Hey, guys.” Eddie turned and smiled. He would recognize Bill Denbrough anywhere (though he hadn't, had he? He owned his books, had seen his picture on the back cover, and he'd never thought twice about it). He stepped away after another hug, letting the other two catch up. He stood looking into the large fish tank, anything to get a reprieve from the memories that were hitting him, and then jumped when something hit the large gong next to their table. He spun, his eyes catching on red hair first. Beverly was smiling, and another man stood next to her, tall and thin and handsome, and somehow Eddie knew it was –

“Ben?”

“That was my reaction!” Beverly said with a laugh.

“You acknowledge Ben before you acknowledge me? Some kind of best friend you are, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds,” he said, the words spilling from his mouth without thought. He looked to Richie, wearing an ugly mustard color shirt beneath a leather jacket. He wore glasses much like the ones he’d worn in childhood, though they magnified his eyes a little less, and his hair was messy. He'd seen Richie's face, too, on a Netflix special he'd felt oddly compelled to watch. “You actually became a comedian.”

Richie’s cheeks turned pink and he took a few steps closer, hands in his pockets.

“I mean,” Eddie continued, “It’s not ventriloquism but not half-bad!”

Richie laughed loudly, his head thrown back. “Fuck, even I forgot I wanted to be a ventriloquist!”

“You would’ve made a terrible ventriloquist, Rich. Eddie was just too nice to tell you.”

They turned at the new voice, smiling at the curly hair and sweater.

“Stanley!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said through a smile. After Eddie felt like he’d hugged everyone twice, they took their seats. He sat between Richie and Ben, right across from Bill. Stan was on Richie’s other side, already talking about his accounting firm and his wife Patty.

“She sounds lovely,” Beverly said with a smile.

“You’re not married?” He asked, pointing to her left hand. 

She frowned, touching her ring finger. “Uh, technically I am. I guess I kind of… left him?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. 

Beverly shrugged, waving them off. “It’s fine! What about everyone else? Anyone else married?”

“I am,” Bill said. “Her name’s Audra; you guys would probably recognize her if you saw her –“

“Oh shit, she’s that movie star!” Richie said loudly. “And you’re an author, I’ve totally bought your books before, dude!”

“I have, too,” Eddie admitted. He hadn’t known why he bought them at the time, but it had felt like something he needed to do. He thought he might even own a jacket from Rogue & Marsh.

“Nobody else is married? What about you, Ben?”

“No,” Ben said, cheeks pink. 

“But dude, you’re so hot, how are you single?” Richie said, punching a shocked laugh from Eddie’s chest.

Ben rolled his eyes playfully. “I mean, I’m not lonely by any means –“

Richie cut him off to whoop loudly.

“Anyway, what about you, Trashmouth?”

“Nope!”

“Divorce?” Bill asked with a smirk.

“I’m offended, Big Bill. No, no divorce. Haven’t had a serious relationship in… probably fifteen years. Kinda hard to hold anything down when you’re touring all the time.”

“Makes sense,” Beverly agreed, before her eyes met Eddie’s. He groaned. “What about you, Eddie?”

“Uh, no marriage, no divorce, very boring. Next.”

“No way, Eds, you can’t get off the hook that easy!” Richie exclaimed. “C’mon, when was your last relationship?”

Eddie looked down at the table. “Haven’t really had one. I was never really interested.”

The table had quieted, like Eddie had dropped a blanket of discomfort on all of them.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, finally looking back up. He could feel Richie’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head but he didn’t look. “I like living alone. I have friends at work and I always have nice chats with the pharmacist and... Look, it’s not like I’m lonely, okay? It’s fine. I’m fine.”

The conversation moved on quickly, Eddie’s discomfort obvious to everyone. Richie kept looking at him as though he were a puzzle, and as soon as the waitress returned to their table Eddie ordered himself a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer, not even thinking about the fact that he would be drinking straight from the glass and don't you know, Eddie, dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are a breeding ground for germs! Now that he'd remembered his asthma was fake, his aspirator a placebo, he felt like he could count the hours wasted on sanitization and worry about his delicate system. It made him boil with anger, that she had taken so much from him while giving him so many issues. He didn't want to waste more time. His system was fine.   

The night was long and draining, as much a reunion as it was a horror show. He was almost positive he remembered everything now, as did the others, and Mike claimed to have a plan. For now, though, they had some time to sleep. No point in heading into Neibolt exhausted, Bill had said with a shrug, and everyone had agreed. Eddie was finding it hard to sleep, though, with images of the leper running through his mind -

I’ll blow you for free

- And leaving him terrified and shaking. He thought back to being a kid, the same fear had kept him up at night then, too. He remembered talking to Richie about it as they read comics in the room above the Kaspbrak house garage, and Richie admitting he was having trouble sleeping, too. Kept seeing the werewolf, his own name written on It’s letterman jacket. 

He turned the bedside lamp on and picked up the phone without bothering to sanitize it even as his mind mother screamed at him. He looked at the directory and tried to remember which room was Richie’s. He was almost positive it was 207, one floor down and one over from his own, so he dialed the extension and waited. As the ringing sounded in his ear, someone knocked heavily on his door.

His heart seized up in his chest and he grabbed his aspirator from the side table and took a hit, even though he knew it was a placebo. 

“Who is it?”

“Eddie Kaspbrak?” A male voice from just outside the door said. “There’s an urgent message for you at the front desk.”

“Hello?” Richie’s sleepy voice said in his ear. He sighed in relief, not answering him yet.

“A message from who?” He asked loudly.

“What are you talking about – Eddie?” 

“A message from… Your wife,” the voice said, and Eddie froze.

“Uh, one second,” he said to the person on the other side of the door, then lowered his voice and spoke into the phone. “Rich, someone’s at my door saying I have a message from my wife.”

“You don’t have a wife,” Richie said, confused.

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, exactly!”

“Oh, fuck,” Richie said, and Eddie could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. Then, another noise, somehow both quiet and the loudest thing he’d ever heard. He watched with wide eyes as the lock on his door turned slowly until it clicked.

He opened his mouth to tell Richie whoever it was at his door had a key and to hurry the fuck up, but the line was beeping like Richie had already hung up. Slowly, he shoved the blankets off, putting his feet securely on the floor. He glanced around for something he could use to defend himself. A lamp? The phone? Why the fuck hadn’t he brought a knife or a gun to this clown fight?

The door slammed open, hitting the wall and revealing a man in a tattered jumpsuit. He had a knife in his hand.

Panic seized Eddie’s chest. The irrational part of his brain wanted to grab his aspirator for another puff but he knew it would be his last, so instead, without thinking it through, he charged forward as fast as he could, throwing his weight against the door as it bounced off the wall and back toward the man. 

Both men screamed. Eddie out of pure adrenaline and fear, some part of him wondering why the fuck he’d done that, and the other man because his foot and arm were smashed in between the door and the frame. Eddie kept his weight against the door knowing he didn’t have a lot of time; he didn’t weigh much, and this guy seemed particularly strong. He looked at the hand holding the knife, the small rivulets of blood dripping where the edge of the door had cut into the skin, and he grabbed a hold of it with both hands, trying to pry meaty fingers from the handle without cutting himself.

He didn’t manage it before the man pushed back with his own full body weight, throwing Eddie to the ground. He landed with a muted thud on his back and the man pushed into the room, spotting Eddie immediately. In the brief eye contact, Eddie realized with certain clarity that this man was Henry Bowers.

Henry Bowers, who had held him down and broken his arm with his bare hands. Henry Bowers, who had punched him in the nose more times than he could count. Henry Bowers, who had beaten Richie up again and again, who had mocked Bill’s stutter and Stan’s religion. Henry Bowers, who left even Beverly, the strongest of them, trembling. Henry Bowers, who had killed Mike’s dog. 

Eddie’s eyes flitted to the knife in his hand and a chill ran down his spine. Just yesterday he couldn't remember this man's name, but he remembered he used to fight back.

As a kid, he fought back against Henry Bowers, who somehow had the same knife he’d used to carved Ben open, the same knife with which he’d murdered his own father.

Henry lunged at Eddie, still on the floor. He kicked upward, one foot landing in the soft pudge of Henry’s stomach, the other his groin. Henry didn’t seem to notice, which left Eddie feeling terrified – what if this wasn’t Henry at all? What if this was something much, much worse?

“How ya doin’, little queer boy?” Henry asked, his voice hardly having changed at all. “Ready to get all cut up? Teach you to throw rocks!”

Eddie kept his foot wedged against Henry’s stomach, though the weight of him was causing a steady throb down his leg. Moving quickly, he pulled his other foot back and kicked again, this time aiming for the hand with the knife. Henry seemed taken off guard but he didn’t drop the knife, just leaned more of his weight onto Eddie’s leg. He cried out, giving in and planting his other foot against Henry’s stomach to hold him back. Henry didn’t seem to mind that he was leaning all his weight against Eddie’s feet, hovering over him like a ghost. 

“Not quite strong enough, are ya, fag?”

Eddie grimaced - the first time Henry called him that, he hadn't even known what a fag was. 

Henry brought the knife closer, almost able to reach Eddie’s face. With fear stronger than he’d felt in a long time thrumming through his veins, he grabbed Henry’s wrist with both hands, pushing him back. He let his fingernails dig into the place where the door had cut him, and Henry screamed, finally dropping the knife. Eddie glanced to his left and saw it, and with one hand still gripping into Henry’s wounded arm he reached over and grabbed it, plunging it upward into Henry’s chest just above where his feet held him up.

Henry’s eyes widened and Eddie sobbed as blood dripped onto his hand where he held the handle of the knife. He yanked it back out but Henry had become dead weight and his legs crumbled beneath it. He yelled, and then heard another voice.

“What the fuck!”

“Rich, help,” he said, hardly able to breathe under Henry’s weight. He was still wriggling, but Eddie kept a tight grip on the knife. Then Henry’s weight was being lifted a bit and Eddie helped, shoving until he landed on his back next to Eddie, blood seeping into the front of his shirt. Eddie stabbed again, but Henry caught the blow with his hand, and Eddie screamed as the blade sliced through the rough palm. Henry stared up at him, with a look that Eddie could almost describe as confused.

“Eds, Eds, what’s –“

“It’s Bowers,” he shouted, finally gathering the nerve to rip the knife out of Henry’s hand. Henry yelled and swung, smacking Eddie in the side and knocking the breath out of him. His uninjured hand came at him curled in a fist and managed to land on his eye. He stumbled backward a little on his knees, eyes closed against the blow, and without looking plunged the knife down again. Henry’s shrill scream and Richie’s Jesus fucking Christ oh my God oh my God let him know whatever he hit wasn't pretty but it wasn’t enough to be fatal.

A final time, he lifted the knife and opened his eyes. Henry’s face was covered in gushing blood, what was left of his eyeball hanging out of the socket. Eddie felt the Chinese food he’d eaten threaten to make a reappearance. From the corner of his eye he saw Henry’s arm begin to move and he flinched, not ready for another hit, but then Richie’s foot slammed the hand into the ground and Eddie plunged the knife back into Henry’s chest, over what he was pretty sure was his heart.

He pulled the knife out and threw it on the ground. It slid across the floor and stopped beneath the TV stand. Eddie pulled himself off of Henry, uncaring if he was still alive; if he was, Richie could deal with it. His own head spun, pain radiated down his legs, and his eye socket throbbed. He fell onto the bed with his eyes closed. For a moment he only heard the slight noise of movement from Richie, and then:

“Holy fuck, dude, you fucking killed him.”

Eddie let out a long breath of relief before saying, “don’t say it like that. It was self-defense.”

“Well obviously,” Richie agreed, and then threw up. The sound and smell made Eddie’s stomach turn again, and he leaned over the bed, grabbed the wastebasket, and lost his own dinner.

*  

They had migrated to Richie's room, after a brief talk with the rest of the losers to inform them of what happened. Everyone was appropriately horrified and offered to come sit with them for the rest of the night, but Eddie insisted he just wanted to sleep and he wanted to do it in a room without a dead body. Richie had offered his own, promising to keep quiet so Eddie could get some rest. 

Eddie had been unable to sleep, though. By the rigidness of Richie beside him, he was sure he wasn't the only one.

"So what's it like, being famous?" He said quietly into the darkness. He felt Richie jolt and he apologized with a laugh.

"No, it's fine, uh," Richie sighed. Eddie felt the comforter jostle like he was resituating himself. "I dunno, honestly. Kind of boring? I mean, don't get me wrong, in the early days I partied a lot. Slept around, got into things I shouldn't have. But… being clean and telling jokes you didn't even write? Kinda shit, not gonna lie."

"God, I fucking knew you didn't write your own shit," Eddie said. "I don't even know how I knew, but I'd watch all your stupid specials and like, be annoyed at myself because this guy is so obviously a fraud, why the fuck do I religiously watch everything he puts out?"

"Could have been my charming good looks," Richie joked, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up. 

"Definitely not that," Eddie said with a hollow laugh. "Apparently somehow I just knew you were my best friend and I was pissed because I know you're so much funnier than the shit you say onstage."

"Oh," Richie said. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know how to fucking do this. How do you have conversations with people that aren't too much but don't feel like fucking small talk? Richie was his best friend once upon a time, would've been his best friend their whole lives if Derry hadn't fucked them up. 

But would they have been? Would they have been best friends if they'd grown up together? Navigated their early twenties together? Would he have dropped Richie the second he got into whatever shit he got into in LA? Would Richie have dropped him when he realized Eddie was fucking boring, with a desk job and a mother he couldn't escape? Would he have been just another person shoving him on dates with girls he didn't want to date? Another person asking why he wasn't married yet? Another person to think -

Your mom thinks you're gay.

He bit his lip. He couldn't think about that right now, not when their literal lives were on the line. He'd been putting off his sexuality crisis for years, it could wait another 24 hours.

Because that's what it was, and he knew it. He remembered the feelings from being a kid. He remembered the swooping sensation in his stomach, the blushing, the constant need to be the center of Richie's attention. He didn't think he knew what it was back then, but now? Now he knew what all those things meant. He knew what they meant when he felt them sitting next to Richie at dinner, and now, laying next to him in bed. 

But that was for a later date, if he even made it to a later date.

All Eddie could hear in the room was the whirr of the air conditioner, Richie's breathing right next to him, and his own heart pounding in his ears. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax enough to even doze, but the quiet was broken when Richie cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, when Richie didn't follow up with anymore sounds.

"I just - " He sighed. "You remember how we thought… When we were kids… That some of our power, or whatever, came from the lucky seven? None of us could have hurt It on our own but we could together, and we worked together and we all loved each other and looked out for each other."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"I don't feel like we're the lucky seven anymore," Richie admitted. Eddie didn't know what to say. "We're not… Together… the way we used to be. We were like one single unit back then. Even with Ben and Bev and Mike, we'd barely met them but they just fit with us. And now we just feel like…"

"Like seven adults who haven't spoken in over 20 years?" Eddie finished for him.

"Yeah." Richie's voice was sad. "We're not kids anymore, you know? And we don't know each other. Eds, I don't think we can even say we're friends anymore."

"That's not true," he argued, turning his head on his pillow to see the outline of Richie's face in the dark. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he was facing the ceiling. Eddie couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. "We all fell right back into old habits at dinner! It was like nothing's changed."

"But it has changed!" Richie said, his voice rising a little. Eddie jostled when Richie pushed himself up, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Eddie stared at him and chewed on his lip. "God, are you telling me you still act like that as an adult? I can just look at you and tell you're not somebody who trades sarcastic insults with anyone. And I don't still joke about fucking people's mothers and I don't constantly slip into shitty Voices all the time and I don't just fucking make fun of people like an asshole! But we both - we both regressed! Like, some shit happened when we got back together and all of a sudden we were both shitty little teenagers again! All of us! Bill's stutter came back, for fuck's sake! Ben's an awkward fucking mess around Bev, as though that guy isn't swimming in pussy right now -"

"That's fucking gross, Richie," Eddie muttered, pushing himself against the wall. 

"I'm just saying," Richie continued, "that we all get along as 13 year olds. Not as the people we are now."

"That's - " Eddie paused and blinked hard, surprised to find his eyes filling with tears. "It's just because that's how we're used to acting with each other. If we all spent time together again I bet we'd end up acting more like who we are now."

Richie scoffed. "Eddie, who you are now would hate who I am now."

"I wouldn't hate you." He reached out hesitantly, rested his hand on Richie's broad back. "Why do you think I'd hate you?"

"You - You hate getting dirty! And you dress like you're ninety, your hair is like, combed, and you've clearly never used a drug in your life. You -"

"I'm gonna stop you, dude." Eddie readjusted himself so he was sitting facing Richie, who's blue eyes were clearer than ever without his glasses on, even in the dark. "The actual regression I experienced was turning back into the person I was before that summer, before I found out about my asthma. The scared kid who carried a fanny pack full of disinfectant wipes became a scared adult who kept disinfectant wipes in his briefcase and Advil in his pocket right next to his aspirator. I have been alone for the last 20 years. And I've wasted so much time being the delicate child my mother wanted me to be. Who I was at 13 is more me than who I am at 40. And I think - I think that's why we all regressed the way we did. Because we were happy together, at 13, and I don't think any of us are happy now."

Richie stayed quiet.

"Well," Eddie amended, "except for Stan. But he acted like an adult as a kid, so I don't think that counts. Anyway, I don't give a shit about what you've done in your past. I lived with my mother until she died in my mid-thirties. I've never had -" He cut himself off, feeling his face heat up. "Never mind. The point is that we are still the same people we were at 13. The people we've been for the last 20 years? That wasn't really us. This is us. Lucky seven."

"Okay," Richie whispered. Eddie ignored the way he swallowed thickly. "I think I - I think I'm just scared. Just going over every single way we could fail. And even - even if you're right about us, how we're all still the same… There's so much about each other we don't know. We don't really know much about how we've each spent the last two decades. Or where we've worked, where we've lived, who we've fucked. It's like we're strangers…"

Eddie cleared his throat, willing his blush to disappear. "Maybe… Okay, this might sound stupid, so if you laugh afterward, I'm giving myself permission to hit you."

Richie snorted. "Alright, go ahead."

"We should find a way for all of us to know each other again. So we're not strangers. We should be the strongest version of the losers club when we go into the sewers, right? Losers club doesn't have secrets. Maybe we - you know, we bond with each other again. By telling each other stuff. You know?"

"Are you saying you want to sit in a circle and tell each other secrets?"

Eddie huffed. "Essentially, yes."

Richie laughed a little but held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not laughing at you! Just - I mean, why not? It couldn't hurt. Maybe we could re-do the blood pact, too?"

Eddie grimaced. "Yeah, Rich, let's physically weaken ourselves before we go fight a demon space alien. That's a super good idea."

"Well you don't have to be mean about it, dickhead."

Eddie laughed and shook his head. "How about, if we all live, we'll -"

"If we all live?! Don't say shit like that man!"

"I've already killed a man, Richie, I don't think death is completely off the table."

"Fuck, you killed a man." Richie sounded awed and a little scared.

"And you were very helpful, by the way." Eddie smirked.

"Listen, Eds, you've always been the brave one, we all know that, Mr. This is Battery Acid."

"I think I called It Fucknuts, too," Eddie recalled. He remembered spraying his aspirator at It, but even still he couldn't picture It clearly. "Do you remember what It looked like? It's real form, not any of the glamours."

Richie paused. "I don't - I don't think so? I just - I remember the eye in the sewers. When we all stood around like idiots and you screamed at us to step the fuck up. But other than that…"

Eddie remembered that, too. He'd lost his shoe in the eye, kicking it and screaming at the others to help him. It almost shocked him, to remember himself as being brave. But he had been. He'd attacked first, both the eye and… Whatever It became, in the end. His aspirator had really hurt It. 

"I wonder if we really saw It…" Eddie said. Another memory had hit him, one of Richie holding a baseball bat, of Bill trapped under Pennywise's arm. "I think - I think we hurt It while It was the clown. Maybe that's - maybe part of why It didn't die is because it was still using a glamour. It escaped before we hurt it enough to see the true form."

"That's - I mean, it was weird that Pennywise just bolted…"

"And Richie?" He reached out again, a little more confident, and touched Richie's arm. The contact made his chest clench. "You're brave, too. Don't you remember? Now I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown."

Richie laughed quietly. "I hadn't remembered that until you said it."

Eddie hadn't remembered the battery acid or the eye until Richie brought them up, either. He wondered if it was because neither of them were the kind of people who looked for the good in themselves, and if there were other things they'd done that they could be proud of and just hadn't remembered yet. He hoped so. He hoped they still had some of that bravery left.

Richie flopped back down, head hitting the pillow as he released a loud sigh. Eddie followed suit, his face warming when he realized Richie had landed closer than he was before. They weren’t touching, but he could feel the heat from Richie’s arm only inches from him.

“We should probably try to sleep before… Well, we should try to sleep.” Richie’s voice had quieted. Eddie could barely hear him over the whirr of the air conditioner. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Rich,” he murmured. He hoped Richie couldn’t hear the fondness in his voice over the sound of the AC. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes. 

*

Three short knocks on the door woke Eddie a few hours later. His left side was warm and he mindlessly moved into the heat before his muddled and tired mind remembered it was Richie next to him, still sleeping with breaths so loud it could almost be called a snore. Light poured in through the window so that Eddie could see Richie’s relaxed face, and staring down at the other man distracted him enough that he jolted at the sound of more knocks.

“Rich? Eddie? W-w-wake up, we’re meeting d-d-d-downstairs in twenty!” Bill’s voice drifted through the door and Eddie sighed, sitting up and shaking Richie’s shoulder.

“Mph,” Richie said, rolling away from Eddie.

“Wake up, didn’t you hear Bill?”

“Was ignoring him,” Richie answered bluntly. Eddie rolled his eyes and got up, heading toward the door just as Bill began to knock again.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door to find Bill’s fist mid-air. “We’ll be down soon, but can I talk to you first?”

Bill nodded, and Eddie closed the door behind them.

“Rich and I were talking last night and… Well, we were talking about how we don’t really feel like the lucky seven anymore. We’ve lost some of the connection we had as kids, and that connection is a huge part of why we survived last time. I just think – We think we should do something to bond again, like how we bonded at the Jane but… More. Maybe – Maybe we could go downstairs and just… share things about ourselves. You know, the kind of important things you share with your closest friends.”

Bill’s eyebrows had risen and Eddie bit his lip awkwardly. If Bill didn’t go for it, it wasn’t going to happen, and something in Eddie’s chest told him it needed to happen if they were going to survive.

Finally Bill shrugged. “I m-m-m-mean, it couldn’t hurt.”

“Right,” Eddie agreed. “So… If you could let everyone know what’s going on? We’ll meet you downstairs soon. I’m probably going to have to physically yank Richie out of bed, so…”

Bill nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll see y-y-you down there s-s-soon.”

Eddie thanked him and went back into the room, surprised to see the bed empty and the bathroom door closed. He sighed in relief that Richie had gotten himself up and went to his suitcase to pull out clean clothes. Richie finished in the restroom quickly and they switched, Eddie hurrying through his morning routine and dressing, anxious to get downstairs.

He stepped out of the bathroom without looking up, his pajamas folded in his hands, and after a few steps toward his suitcase he raised his head, confused by the silence.

He swallowed thickly at the sight of Richie standing in the middle of the room in just jeans, the hem of his boxers visible, the trail of hair leading down into his boxers all Eddie could see.

“Sorry,” he choked, looking away as quickly as he could force his head to move, feeling the heat light up his cheeks. He cursed himself in his head, power walking the rest of the way to his suitcase and focusing all his energy on making sure all his things were placed neatly and organized inside, trying not to think about Richie, half-naked, a few feet away.

He could hear Richie clear his throat behind him, but his voice still came out strained. “No worries.”

Eddie nodded without looking up. His hands were clenched into fists.

“Um,” Richie said awkwardly, when Eddie didn’t move. Eddie let out a breath and stood up, turning to face Richie, only to find himself again faced with a bare-chested Richie.

“What the fuck!”

“Sorry!” Richie said, not moving.

“Put your fucking shirt on!”

“Right.”

Richie bent over to reach into his suitcase and Eddie stared with his mouth open at the way the muscles in his arms moved, the way his back arched. He realized as he stared that there was no longer any attempts at denying his sexuality. This was it. He couldn’t look away as Richie pulled a shirt over his head. His cheeks were still hot and he waited for some joke from Richie, something like take a picture, it’ll last longer, or like what you see, Eds?, but Richie remained quiet.

“So,” Eddie said once Richie was fully dressed. “We’re meeting the others downstairs.”

“To share secrets?”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, walking out the door. They could hear the chatter of the others as they headed down stairs, and Eddie realized without surprise they were the last to make it down.

“Hey!” Beverly greeted. “Good thing you’re here, we were about to start without you.”

“Actually we already finished without you,” Stanley said, sly grin on his face. “Guess you guys don’t get to be part of the club anymore.”

"How dare you, Stanley," Richie said, skipping over to plop onto the floor next to Stan's spot on the couch. Beverly and Ben sat on the loveseat while Bill, Mike, and Stan took up the couch. There was a single armchair waiting, empty, between Richie's spot on the floor and Ben and Beverly, and Eddie took his spot. 

"We decided Bill will go first," Mike said, and Eddie nodded. It made sense in a way he couldn't explain. Of course Bill would go first. Bill would always go first.

"So," Bill started, then stopped. He cleared his throat and turned his face to the floor. Eddie bit his lip nervously, his heart beginning to beat faster as he waited for Bill's secret. "I wasn't s-sick. The day G-G-G-Georgie died. He - he wanted me to go out and p-p-p-play with him, but I didn't - I didn't want to. It wasn't that I didn't l-l-l-love him, or -"

"It wasn't your fault," Beverly said to him. "Nobody could've known what would happen."

Bill's face was red but he didn't cry. His eyes were resolute as he looked around at each of them. "I feel so g-g-guilty for what I d-d-did. And I feel g-g-g-guilty that I hadn't th-th-thought about G-Georgie in over 20 years."

"Pennywise wiped our memories, man, that's not -"

"I knew I had a l-l-little brother thatd-d- died. I knew his n-n-name, how old he w-was. And it was like… I d-d-didn't care. It d-d-didn't m-m-mean anything. I re-re-re-remembered him and it didn't m-mean anything."

"Fuck that," Richie said suddenly. "Seriously, Bill, fuck that shit. You didn't really remember Georgie, because if you did you would've spent the last 27 years feeling like you feel right now. We all know it. It's not your fault you didn't remember and it's not your fault he died."

"I know you probably don't believe that," Eddie added, "but it's true. None of it was your fault. And you're the one who led us to beat Pennywise the first time. You ended the cycle early, man. You saved lives."

Bill shook his head, still avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. "W-W-We all did that."

"Then maybe we should all get a pat on the back for it," Ben suggested. "We all did something that saved who knows how many lives. We should all - you know, give ourselves credit for it."

Eddie thought back to the night before, discussing all the things with Richie that he hadn't remembered doing. All the moments he was brave, strong, powerful. How he and Richie didn't remember them because they struggled to see their own strength.

"I agree," he said, nodding to Ben. "We all need to give ourselves more credit for what we did. Yeah, It came back, but we stopped it back then. The killings, they stopped. We were all brave as fuck, guys. And we can be brave as fuck again."

"I don't recall being brave as fuck," Stan said quietly. "I only remember being terrified out of my mind."

"That's what being brave is, though," Mike told him. "Doing something even when it scares you. And you're being brave right now, just by being here, Stanley. All of you are. We're all terrified but we're all here, and that, as Eddie so eloquently put it, is brave as fuck."

"Well said." Beverly smiled softly. "You should go next, Mike."

Mike looked surprised for a moment, eyes widening a bit, but he quickly nodded, shuffling in his seat. 

"Well," he started, looking around at each of them. "I guess you know I've kept up with each of you, but not - not quite the extent that I've kept up with you. I've read all of Bill's books and seen every movie adaptation. I've seen every television appearance Richie's ever made. I've read every article ever written about Ben. I've driven up to Bangor a few times, to one of those fancy department stores, just to see Bev's clothes in person. Couldn't afford to buy anything, but -"

The group paused as an uncomfortable undercurrent swept through the room. Eddie noticed he wasn't the only one who wouldn't meet Mike's eyes.

"Don't be weird about it," Mike said with a soft sigh. "It is what it is. And this - this tension, this discomfort… That's what Eddie's talking about. To be the Lucky Seven we have to push through what makes us uncomfortable. You guys can't walk on eggshells around me anytime finances come up. We can't walk on eggshells around each other at all. This is the point of this. We've got to share the hard shit, too."

Eddie didn't know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He looked up, though, and Mike was giving a comforting smile to them all. Eddie breathed in deeply and let it out slowly as Bill agreed with Mike, and the awkward tension began to dissipate.

"Anyway," Mike continued, "it's been hard to be the one to stay here. I won't lie, there were so many times over the years that I thought about calling one of you. And there were times over the years that I even resented you guys a little, for being able to leave. But this was what I was meant to do. This was my job. I accepted that, and I'm okay with it. I've made my peace with it."

"I'm sorry you had to stay here, Mike," Ben said. Mike just shrugged good-naturedly.

"Well, if we're going to be talking about the uncomfortable shit, maybe I should go next." Eddie raised his eyebrows at the bluntness in Bev's voice. She huffed a short laugh. "I mean - I mentioned leaving my husband at dinner but… There's so much more to it. He - Well. I'll start with - I have one very close friend. Her name's Kay, and I've known her a long time. And it's… it's funny, you know, when someone knows you, how they can see through your bullshit? Kay can see through my bullshit. But she never called me on it. Don't get me wrong, she told me to leave him for years, before we were ever even married, but she never… She had to have known, you know?"

Eddie swallowed thickly as Bev rambled, her voice catching a few times. His hands balled up into fists, a response to the anger that was slowly building inside his chest as Beverly spoke.

"But I'm glad she never brought it up because… I don't know how to talk about it, especially with someone who never met… Well, someone who never met my father. I didn't know how to talk about the shame I feel for running from my abusive father into the arms of an abusive husband. I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I stay."

Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, and Eddie had the urge to reach over and hold her hand, but Ben already had an arm around her shoulders and Stan was clutching her hand.

"Anyway, I - I left him. I had to… He didn't want me to. And part of me is… so fucking scared that I'm going to go right back to him after Derry."

"That's n-not going to h-h-happen, Bev," Bill said quickly, leaning closer to her to put a comforting hand on her knee. "We won't l-let you."

“It shouldn’t be like that. Isn’t it the same thing? Putting my wellbeing in the hands of yet another man? Trusting in you guys to keep me from going? It needs to be my own decision, and it needs to come from my own strength.” 

No one spoke for a moment. Eddie watched as Beverly wiped her tears with her free hand. Finally, Ben turned to face her and said, “we won’t make the decision for you, but no matter what you decide we’ll be there to support you. Obviously we all want you to be safe and not go back to him, but no one here is your keeper. We just love you and want the best for you. And if you leave you won’t be alone. We’ll all be there for you.”

The others murmured their agreements and Bev smiled through her tears, thanking them quietly.

"I'll go next," Stan offered, raising his hand a little. "I… Well, I guess I'm sort of Twitter famous? I've got a blue checkmark and everything."

"I'm sorry?" Richie asked, voice rising in pitch. "It took me two years to get a fucking checkmark and they gave one to you?!"

Stanley shrugged. "I had a commercial for my accounting business go viral."

No one said anything. Eddie stared blankly at Stan as though he'd grown a second head.

Stan huffed. "Patty and I made a commercial when I first started the company. We filmed it ourselves because we didn't have money to hire anyone and it was just - it was just me at my desk, and Patty standing next to me. And I'm just talking, you know, about why people should choose me as their accountant. But Patty apparently found it absolutely hilarious because she kept, like, laughing - snorting while I was talking. And in my head I'm thinking, there's no way we're going to use this, this is ridiculous, and I smile at the end - well, Patty says it's a grimace but what's the difference, really? - and Patty, completely unscripted, yells "call Uris Accounting for all your accounting needs!" and then I started laughing. Anyway, she posted it on Facebook without telling me and it went viral -"

"Holy fuck, I've seen that!" Richie yelled, throwing his hands up. "It's - there's a YouTube video, one of those compilations, called 'People Breaking and Laughing on Camera (Almost Entirely Richie Tozier Laughing at His Own Jokes)'! We're in the same compilation YouTube video!"

"You have the name of the video memorized?" Eddie asked. Richie laughed.

"That's terrible news," Stan said. Richie laughed harder. "Anyway, now the company's Twitter has thousands of followers who think my deadpan humor and random observations are hilarious. My actual secret is that I don't actually write any of it - Patty does. She's the funny one but she isn't a big fan of too much attention so people think it's me."

"Aw, it's okay, Stan, Richie doesn't write his jokes, either," Ben said with a grin. Eddie laughed, watching happily as Richie began to yell indignantly. 

It took a few minutes for the group to calm down. Eddie sat and soaked it in, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut that told him this lighthearted fun was going to end soon. That they may never get this feeling back again.

"Anyway," Stan said finally. "Patty's very funny. She calls my car The Sedanley."

"Aw," Bev cooed, grinning. "That's cute! You guys sound really happy together."

"We are," Stan agreed, his cheeks pink. "Anyway, who's next? Eddie?"

Eddie's stomach clenched and he bit his lip. He cleared his throat, finding a spot on the floor to stare at so he could avoid the eyes of his friends. This was his idea in the first place, he certainly couldn't back out now.

"Before I say anything, I just want to say I've never told anyone this, and it's… Well, it's quite embarrassing and I'd really appreciate you all not making fun of me."

"W-We'd never m-m-make fun of you," Bill assured him immediately. Eddie gave him an incredulous look. Bill laughed a little. "Okay, f-f-fair enough, we d-definitely would. B-B-But wew- won't! You can t-t-tell us."

"Yeah," Eddie muttered. He took a few deep breaths and opened his mouth. “I’ve never… you know, done it. Like…” His eyes darted around at each of them and his cheeks pinked. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Sex.”

Stan laughed. “Clearly, if you feel like you have to whisper the word sex.”

“We promised no laughing! Nobody laughed at your stupid Sedanley!”

"Oh, honey," Bev said. "Why not? You could get any woman you wanted!"

Eddie didn't look up from the floor. His hands were balled up into nervous fists.

"Or man?" She continued. A question. 

Before Eddie could speak, Richie's voice broke the tense silence. “No! You aren’t allowed to come out!”

“I kn-kn-know you’re not about t-t-to be homophobic,” Bill interrupted.

“Like you can talk,” Richie answered, annoyed. “Have you ever written a character that wasn’t straight?” Bill tried to answer but began stammering worse than usual. “And I’m not being homophobic. But if Eddie comes out right now and steals my goddamn thunder then that would be biphobic. Because I’m bi. That was my secret. So. Now, Eddie, if there’s anything you’d like to say…”

“You’re the fucking worst,” Eddie told him. “And I don’t… I don’t know. I’ve never had feelings strong enough for anyone, man or woman, to ever do anything about it. I suppose I’ve found men attractive before, but never anyone that I knew or liked or – I suppose mostly celebrities, strangers on the subway, things like that. I never… I guess I haven’t met many people that have caught my interest.”

"Sounds like you need to lower your standards,” Stan said bluntly.

“Nah,” Ben said, smiling at Eddie. “I get what he means. I never really formed any connection with anyone either. Before you guys I was lonely, and after you guys I was lonely. I suppose I had been interested in someone when I was younger, but… I forgot about her. Maybe eventually you’ll remember someone, Eddie. Someone who caught your interest.”

Eddie finally glanced up, his eyes immediately finding Richie, who was staring resolutely at the floor. He chewed on his lip. Finally he looked over at Ben and said, “I think I will remember. Eventually.”

"Well," Richie said loudly, and Eddie jumped. Richie's cheeks were bright red and he shoved his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger. "Since I already spoiled my secret, I guess I don't have to go."

"We're very proud of you, Richie," Bev said with a soft smile. "Even though you ruined Eddie's moment."

"Sorry 'bout that, Eds," Richie said with a small shrug and a sheepish smile. "Couldn't let you steal my gay thunder."

Eddie furrowed his brows. "Didn't you just say you were bi?"

Richie waved him off. Eddie noticed his face was still flushed. He pushed his glasses up his nose again. Eddie clenched his hands into fists as he watched Richie fidget, knowing the other man was nervous but not being completely sure what he was nervous about. Eddie had said he would probably remember someone he had feelings for… Could Richie be figuring him out? Could Richie already know that Eddie had those feelings?

And now that he knew Richie was into men as well… Could he return those feelings?

"-but like I said earlier, to Eddie, I feel like I'm only just remembering the girl I loved…" Eddie realized he'd been ignoring Ben, who was obviously talking about Beverly. The two of them were still next to each other, but Eddie could sense some discomfort in Beverly's body language. He thought about how her entire life had revolved around men and felt a pang in his chest for her. She deserved a break.

"So, w-w-what do you th-th-think, Eddie?" Bill said. Eddie startled, tearing his eyes from where they'd rested on Bev. Ben had finished talking and Eddie was hit with a wave of guilt that he'd been too inside his own head to really listen. But he knew the gist of it, right? Ben loved Bev, Ben had been lonely as an adult. He was basically just repeating Eddie's life story, although probably without the virginity aspect. 

"I mean… I dunno. Do you guys feel closer?"

Bill shrugged helplessly. Eddie's heart sank. He didn't feel any different, either. 

"I think this was good," Richie said, stepping up beside Eddie and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "At the very least we're better off than we were before. It was like a trust exercise, you know? It - it worked."

Eddie looked up at him. He was giving Eddie what was probably supposed to be a reassuring look, but from the angle Eddie was at, looked more like a grimace. Eddie laughed a little.

"W-Well, alright th-th-then," Bill said, heading toward the front door of the Inn. "Let's g-g-go."

*

By the time they made it to the small door that led to It's lair, Eddie could barely breathe. Nothing had happened the entire way. Why had nothing happened? Where was It?

"Well…" Richie said with a shrug. "No news is good news, right?"

"I don't think that applies here," Stan said, his voice trembling.

"Are we ready, then?" Mike asked. Eddie gripped his aspirator and shot it into his mouth. The others nodded grimly. Mike pushed the door open, and they went inside.

Amidst the chaos - It turning into a giant spider with Pennywise's face, chasing them down tunnels that lead to nothing good, three doors with no right answer - Eddie had clutched his aspirator in his hand. He hadn't thought about it, but now, as he watched Richie's body float into the air, eyes white, he thought that perhaps he'd known all along. He remembered spraying the aspirator into the giant eye, remembered - this is battery acid, fucknuts! - and he stepped forward.

He didn't utter a sound as he sprayed the aspirator at It, watching as the mist hit one of the spider legs. It's head swung around to face Eddie, so close Eddie could smell It's rancid breath.

"Battery acid," he said coolly, before shooting off the aspirator again. He was close enough now that the mist sank into one of It's eyes. Pennywise's voice bellowed around the cavern, screaming in pain, and Eddie sprayed again, this time aiming for It's open mouth. Just as his finger pressed down, just as the HydrOx filled It's mouth, Eddie was slammed into from the side. He lost his grip on the aspirator and landed hard on the ground, but his eyes didn't leave the spider. He watched as the mouth, filled with razor-sharp teeth, clamped down where his arm had just been. 

"You're a fucking idiot, Kaspbrak," Stan said, helping Eddie up.

"Holy shit," Eddie said, breathing heavily and looking at Stan, who was shaking. "You saved my life."

"Yeah, well," Stan said. Then, more quietly, so low that Eddie didn't think he was supposed to hear it, he said, "You saved mine first."

"We gotta save Richie," Eddie said, as It's yell pierced the air again. It was rounding on Mike and Ben on the other side of the cavern, and Richie still floated in mid-air.

"Hey!" Stan screamed, his voice echoing in the lair. Eddie's eyes widened and he grabbed Stan's arm. "You're not real, clowns are human and don’t have spider legs, either you’re a human or a spider, make up your mind!"

Eddie watched in horrified shock as It began to shrink, spider legs pulling in toward its body. The others began to join in, yelling what seemed like nonsense to Eddie, who suddenly could only focus on Richie, collapsing to the floor.

He rushed to Richie's body, lying on the ground, and began to shake him.

"Clown! Clown! Clown!"

"Rich, wake up, man," he said, patting Richie's cheek. Richie groaned. "Yeah, hey, buddy, open your eyes!"

"Eds, wha-" His eyes widened as he took in Eddie's form. He grabbed tightly onto Eddie's right arm, staring at it in wonder. "Fuck, you're -"

"Come help us!" Ben's voice carried over to them. Eddie looked over to where their friends stood in a semi circle around It, now shriveled and small and not a clown at all. Eddie helped Richie to his feet and, feeling more powerful than he ever had in his life, squeezed It's heart until It was no more.

Richie saw Stan kill himself and Eddie losing his arm and dying in the deadlights and when they’re out of the house he grabs Stan’s arms and looks at his wrists angrily and Stan realizes what it means and Richie asks “Why didn’t you do it?”

 “First I didn’t remember… I was in the bathtub… I was… Ready. I could only remember promising Bill, the blood oath… But then I remembered Beverly saying she saw us all as adults… And I remembered that I had, too, when I was in the deadlights, and that Eddie was going to die. I knew – Somehow I just knew that if I killed myself Eddie would die, and if I came back he wouldn’t. I could – I could end my own life, but I couldn’t bring myself to end Eddie’s. So I came back.”

not even the author knows what happens next :-)

[echo-bleu]

Oct 19-21 is the Good Intentions WIP fest ( @goodintentionswipfest ), the time to let go of abandoned WIPs and post them as is. Given that I’ve written a lot in the last year and also recently moved fandoms, I thought it was a good time to clean up my WIP folder(s), so I’ll be posting a few things that I started and gave up part way through. This means that each snippet is unfinished and not meant to be a full fic.

RNM, Alex & Rosa 2x04 (I think) coda. 1496 words.

“Hey, Rosa,” Alex sighs, laying down the cleaning supplies he's used to scrub the heinous tag off the gravestone. Absently, he aligns the two bottles and the sponge and bucket in front of him on the floor. His leg is on fire from kneeling over the grave for too long. He had the forethought of bringing his crutch, but being down one hand means he'll need several trips to bring the supplies back to his car, and he's not ready for that yet.

Instead, he sits back, manually moves his leg into a position that doesn't put pressure on his stump, and stares at the now mostly clean gravestone. “I miss you. I haven't been here a lot since I got back and I'm sorry.” He closes his eyes, and Rosa's face is there in his mind, less clear than he'd like now after ten years, even though he has pictures of her. “Recently I feel like I'm seeing your ghost everywhere. Someone's been tagging the walls around town again. Not like...this,” he waves a hand at the grave, frowning in disgust at whoever took it upon themselves to spray-paint it. “It looks exactly like your stuff. I don't know if I should be angry that someone is stealing your art or if it's supposed to be some sort of homage.”

He looks around. The cemetery is mostly empty, at dinner time on a Thursday. He saw the tag when he came earlier, on his way back from work, and he had to come back to clean it up. The only living being he can see is a person with a baseball cap on, crouching by another grave and looking away from him. He wonders idly what loved one they're mourning, if it's a fresh loss or one that has long scabbed over, like his.

Lost in thought, he doesn't see the person approach until he hears their footsteps, far too close to him. He turns around in alarm, thoughtlessly trying to stand up on his aching leg. He falls back on his ass immediately, and finds himself in a particularly embarrassing position, especially in front of a potential threat.

“I was trying to come up with something a lot snarkier than this but, are you okay?” the figure asks.

Alex chokes on his breath. He knows this voice. He knows this face.

It's not possible.

“Hey, I'm really here,” Rosa says with a half-smirk, worry edging into her face.

Rosa, who looks exactly like the day she died.

Rosa, who died ten years ago.

Alex bites hard on his finger, and when that doesn't help, he scoots back in an undignified way, until his back hits the gravestone.

“Please don't react like Maria,” Rosa says, crouching down to his level.

Alex wheezes for a moment more, before his brain turns fully into danger mode. The shock can be dealt with later. Right now, all that matters is the threat.

“Rosa,” he acknowledges coldly, shifting his weight until he's reasonably sure he could stand up fast if needed. “How?”

Rosa looks a little wide-eyed at what must be an obvious change in his behavior. “Whoa, I think I preferred the panic,” she says.

“How?” Alex repeats, ignoring her.

“I know you know about the aliens. Max Evans healed me.”

“You were dead.”

“And now I'm not,” Rosa shrugs. “What's wrong with you?”

“Rosa, you were dead. For ten years,” Alex works his jaw, unable to say just how much this isn't possible.

“I know. Look, I know it's weird, okay? It's been over a month, and I'm still not used to this.”

“A month?” Alex frowns. “Does Liz know?”

“Yeah, of course. She's the one who told me everything that happened. And that Max is an alien.”

“Right.” Alex carefully stands up, using the gravestone as a crutch, even though it feels a little sacrilegious. The grave is apparently empty, since the person it belongs to is standing in front of him, so he can probably be forgiven.

Once up, he picks up his crutch and leans on it. It makes a good weapon, if needed, and a better support, since his legs feel wobbly from shock.

“Who else knows?” he asks, assessing the threat.

“Kyle,” Rosa answers. “Isobel and Michael, and Maria, since yesterday.”

Alex doesn't let the pang of sadness−anger?−that he's apparently the last to know get to him. He can think about that later. “Maria's been told about the aliens?”

“It was an accident,” Rosa admits. “But now she knows.”

“Okay. I'm going to need to confirm this. Give me a minute.”

Rosa frowns. Alex takes his phone out of his pockets, goes to take a picture of Rosa, but he thinks better of it. His phone is encrypted, but Liz's probably isn't. They don't want a photo of a dead girl to end up in any government database. Rosa? Over a month? he texts her instead.

“Alex, I don't−what are you doing?” Rosa asks nervously. She has the same tilt of her head, the same frowns as Alex remembers.

But it's becoming quite clear that the aliens have powers much further reaching than any of them thought. Up to resurrection, maybe, if this is real. But Alex knows for a fact that mind manipulation is. Texting Liz probably isn't enough of a check, but it's the only thing he can think of. “Wait,” he raises a hand.

I was going to tell you, Liz texts back.

I just need confirmation, Alex writes. He'll deal with the rest later.

Then yes. She's real.

Alex takes a deep breath and looks up at Rosa again. “We can't stay here,” he says. “Where are you staying?”

“Max's house,” Rosa answers.

“How's that working for you?”

“Well, Liz comes over twice a day and she can't leave without touching his hat. I'm mainly just bored.”

“Um.” Alex doesn't want to intrude into Max's space, even though he saw the man naked in a pod just a few days ago. “Let's go to my place.”

Rosa obediently picks up the cleaning supplies Alex can't hold in one hand and follows him back to his car. “What's with the crutch?” she tries once more.

Alex bites down the brutally honest answer he would probably give someone else. “I got hurt in Iraq,” he says instead.

“Liz said you enlisted,” Rosa says.

“She said that, uh?” Alex can't help the thought that he wasn't even told Rosa has been resurrected.

“I asked what you'd become. This is all very strange to me, you know. I last saw you a month ago and you were an emo teenager.”

Alex swallows. “Yeah. It's strange for sure,” he says, for lack of something better to tell her. His emotions are a jungle he's not entering. Rosa died the same day that changed everything and set him on the course that led him here. He's only recently learned that her death was actually connected to some of these events, but even when it had seemed like a separate incident, it affected him greatly. She was once one of his best friends, the rebel, free teenager he wanted to model himself after, and her death caught him at one of his lowest points.

They don't talk at all during the short ride to Alex's house, or while Alex fishes out his keys and opens the front door. He wants nothing more than to go remove his prosthesis and lounge in his armchair in sweatpants after a long day, but he doesn't want to deal with Rosa's shock.

He doesn't know how to deal with Rosa, period. She sits like a cat on his couch, legs tucked beneath her, her gaze expectant, and he doesn't know what she expects of him. Probably nothing he can give her.

“So you've been back a month,” Alex states, sitting down on the piano bench. The armchair looks inviting, but he can't get out of it fast enough if something goes wrong, not with how much his leg aches. “Max resurrected you. I assume that had something to do with his death?”

“Yeah, it killed him. Now Liz is trying to resurrect him. I'm pretty sure the world's gone crazy in the ten years I was gone.”

“No argument there,” Alex shrugs. Roswell has certainly gone crazy in the time he was gone. Or maybe he's the one who's changed. “Are you the reason Liz was so ready to leave town again?”

“Yeah. Apparently I’m not dead if I’m out of state. Or something. And she needed a change of scenery.”

Alex sighs. “She’s had a rough time.”

“But now she’s decided she can bring Max back too. I guess if anyone can, it’s Liz,” Rosa shrugs. “I just don’t really get what’s the big deal with that guy.”

“Me neither,” Alex mutters, too low for her to really hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I just…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

[ariannjs]

KONOHA U | A SasuSaku FanFic (One Shot)

----

Just another WIP turned drabble😁

---

"I really don't understand, why can't Sakura and Sasuke just start dating?" Tenten said with a groan during their lunch break, as if the two aforementioned people weren't on the same table as hers. She then flashed her brown eyes at them. "You guys are the only ones who aren't lovers in this squad!"

"I agree! Not that it's a requirement considering that every other pair here is together, but it's the fact that you guys aren't even dating anyone at all yet. And we're already about to graduate!" Ino spoke as she eyed each pair around the table.

The rest of their friends nodded in agreement for Ino was merely stating a fact.

A few months ago, she already agreed to be Sai's girlfriend after three months of him courting her. Naruto has been dating Hinata since Junior College. Neji and Tenten have been together for about five years now, and yes, that was since they graduated from Konoha High before transferring to Konoha University. And lastly, Shikamaru started courting the exchange student Temari since last month. It's not as if the Suna girl doesn't feel the same so it's as clear as day that Ino was right.

But Sakura didn't take their speech seriously, it's not like this was the first time that they teased her with Sasuke. And it always ends with her brushing it off and the other party pretending that he didn't hear the commotion or simply walking out.

She wondered what his response would be now.

Sakura just chuckled before replying, "Guys, Sasuke's not my type, alright?"

"At all?" Tenten raised an eyebrow at her while her boyfriend did the same at the man in front of him, suddenly noticing how Sasuke's grip on his fork tightened as if seeing through him with his white eyes.

"Yeah." Sakura looked away with a sip of her iced coffee. "And...I believe he's not even considering me at all as well."

"Of course, you're ugly," Sai nonchalantly commented which earned a glare from the pink-haired maiden.

"But wasn't there anything developing between you two whenever you go home together?" Temari asked this time. "We're well aware that Sasuke waits for you and picks you up after your shift at the library almost every night."

For a second, Sakura's eyes shifted towards the Uchiha, and to her surprise, dark eyes were staring back at hers with an intensity that she could not explain. Her gaze then fell at her unfinished meal as she thought of an answer to Temari. But her blond friend beat her to it.

"I remember asking Sasuke to pick her up just once, because I had to send Hinata home and all the other guys here do the same for their girls since they go home earlier than Sakura-chan." Naruto wiggled his eyebrows at the now scowling Uchiha. "But I didn't expect Teme to actually be doing that regularly since then. That says something."

"Naruto, that's such a quick assumption, don't you think?" Sakura was quick to butt in, chortling to save herself from the awkwardness. "Sasuke's just being a gentleman and a good friend for sure."

"Tch." Sasuke mumbled "Annoying" under his breath before scooting away from the table and walking towards the doorway.

Everyone turned to him in curiosity.

"Oi, Teme! Where are you going?"

"Shooting. We have a final game to prepare for, that's a much more important stuff to deal with." And then he's out of the cafeteria's double doors.

Shikamaru sighed at the sight. "As always. But this time, I'm not sure if he's offended that you said he's not your type or he just considers our discussion mundane – just like every other topic we discuss, actually."

Another chuckle came out of Sakura's lips. "I bet it's the latter." But somewhere at the back of her mind, she was slightly hoping otherwise.

A buzz from her phone caught her attention then. Astonished with the sender, she opened the message immediately:

I might finish a little late with practice tonight. But wait for me at the library again. See you.

"Oi, forehead, what's that sudden smile on your face all about?"

---

April 2019 (c) AriannJS

---

Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this one somehow😄 How are you? I've been working from home for more than 2 months now and mannnn, I swear my braincells are oftentimes on edge, hahahuhu. Can you share some ways on how you are coping in this season? Mine's journalling, singing, sleeping, and watching some Animé. It's really a need to distract myself every now and then lol. I still want to focus on making Music and writing fics tho. It's just that I'm more mentally tired than usual lately😅 I hope you're all doing well!

- A

[nblesbianbenhanscom]

Will you get mad at me if I ask you to answer ALL of the fanfic Day questions because I just really enjoy your writing and I want to know everything I can. ♡.♡

OMGosh Lock, lol. Nah, I’ll answer them all. Lol.

It got long, surprise surprise, so I put it all under the cut.

What is your favorite fic you have under your belt?

I mean, the all time favorite one I’ve written is It Was Only a Kiss from my Teen Wolf days because of all the emotional hurt/comfort. 

For It, I think, other than Death Is Just So Full, it has to be I Want to Hold Your Hand. It’s a preslash reddie fic that’s just so fucking soft.

What is your favorite snippet of dialogue?

I... Have such a hard time remembering what I wrote once it’s up. Lol. I’m looking over my fics rn like..? I wrote this?

The only thing that’s coming to mind is from my unfinished steddie fic, Leaning Out for Love-

It will be a cold day in hell before I fuck someone in a public bathroom, Eddie told the voice.

What inspired Fresh Raviolis?

You! Lol. Um. If I’m not mistaken, I think that was another @dysregulardyke​ helped fic. I was going to try and write some angst, and it was like. I don’t wanna write angst. I also think I just really liked the idea of Stan being the needy one. Usually it’s the other two, but like Stan always seems so solid, or at least the way I write/interpret him.

Do you prefer writing long or short fics?

So. Dijsf is actually the longest fic I’ve finished. When Leaning Out for Love is done, it will probably be longer. Historically, I have written much shorter fics, the longest coming in around 40k. It just depends on my mood. I’ve been writing a lot of short fics/drabbles lately because I don’t have the emotional energy for the bigger ones and I get bored easily. I do need to get back to that steddie though. It’s so good.

What’s your favorite headcanon you use in fics?

I’m just gonna say it. It’s. It’s unpopular. I’ve been avoiding saying it out loud to anyone but Lou. I’ve vague posted about it A LOT, but like. It is a common theme in my writing...

Richie’s parents don’t like him. They don’t get him, they think he’s weird and a freak. They don’t like that he’s queer. They just want him to be Normal.

Do I appreciate fics where Richie’s parents are loving and caring and so forth? Yes. I’ve read lots of drabbles and short fics where Went and Maggie are great parents, love him, and support him, but like. That’s not what I saw. That’s not how I took it.

Richie’s parents aren’t in the movies/miniseries. We have absolutely no idea what they are like. In the book, from what I remember, they have zero idea as to how to handle him. I know, I know that just because a parent doesn’t know how to handle their kid doesn’t mean they don’t like him, but. *shrug*

I don’t know if it’s even a favorite headcanon, it’s just one that seems to come up a lot.

What’s the detail you wait on bated breath for readers to notice?

The stuff I want people to notice is almost always stuff my first readers don’t get, so it usually gets cut. Like in dijsf, I had a part where Richie was going over stuff in his head and was like “A happened, and 2 was wrong, and c none of the above,” type something and both Lou and my other friend were like THIS MUST BE CORRECTED, and I did a sad.

How much do you like symbolism in your fics?

I don’t? I am a chaotic writer. I do not use outlines. I just write. The closest I come to outlines is making a calendar but that’s filled in as I go so I can have some idea when things happened.

How often do people catch onto your little details?

I honestly have no idea? No one mentions anything. I think sometimes I ask Lou about stuff, but like my brain is so not remembering shit right now about little details that I may have wanted people to notice.

What’s the fic you like the least?

... My most popular It fic Not Gonna Lose Me. Like I have no idea why. It’s good, it’s really good. But... I don’t like it. I almost didn’t even publish it, but both Lou and my other friend were like, it’s a solid fic, so... ??? I have no idea.

What would you change if you had it all to do again?

... i killed stan in dijsf and i felt so guilty about it i started writing Leaning Out for Love.

Like, my friend was over halfway done editing when I was like, I should- I should rewrite this. I should rewrite this so Stan lives, because I love Stan and he deserves to live.

Lou had to tell me very firmly that the fic would not have been the same if I kept Stan alive, and let me tell you, Leaning Out for Love is SOOOOOO different. It’s like literal polar opposite.

What’s a fanfic idea you haven’t done yet?

Any of the Losers as trans, nonbinary, asexual, or aromantic. There’s... thoughts that swirl around, but I hesitate. I wrote a lot of stuff like that in my Teen Wolf days, and they were good and I know helped people, but like. I don’t know. I don’t know why I can’t quite do that here. I probably will someday though.

What’s the hardest thing to write for you?

Describing what things/people look like. I have no ideas. Also sex positions?? And often emotions.

Do you have a favorite character to write for?

Eddie. Eddie spaghetti. I love Eddie so much. He’s fucking everything. Stan and Richie are close seconds though.

What’s your favorite shipping fic you’ve written? Favorite gen fic?

If we focus on It and push dijsf aside, my favorite shipping fic is probably my streddie fic We Won’t Settle for Less. The proposal scene is just... pure delight, lol. My favorite gen fic is I Want to Hold Your Hand. It’s just... So Good. So pure. Like. Just Richie and Eddie going on their first (not) date when they both only kind of know it’s a date? I don’t know. It just warm fuzzies.

Give us a snippet of something from your WiPs!

Have something from Leaning Out for Love-

Eddie smiled a little as he leaned up against a tree. He bit his lip as he looked around. He still couldn’t believe how much had and hadn’t changed in the Barrens. Stan leaned close to Eddie but didn’t touch him. Eddie grabbed his sleeve to pull him close, but Stan pulled away, shaking his head.

“No, talk to me,” Stan said.

Eddie shrugged a little. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Clearly.”

“What? What do you want me to say? That I’m fucking terrified that I’m a disappointment? That I’m scared that you don’t actually like me? That I’ll never be good enough for this? For- For-” Eddie yelled, his voice raising with each word. He wrapped his arms around himself as he stared down at his feet. Stan didn’t say anything, just stood there watching him. “For you,” he whispered. He took a deep breath and chanced a look up at Stan who was just watching him, clearly lost for words. “Well are you going to say something?” Eddie snapped despite himself.

Stan opened his mouth and closed it. He started to reach for Eddie but stopped.

“Eddie, you’re- You don’t need to put so much pressure on yourself,” Stan said. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, I’m really fucking great.” He shook his head. “I live with my fucking- with fucking Sonia. I don’t even have a fucking job or savings! I’m a twenty-four year old gay man who’s most serious relationship was with a woman just like my mom!” He laughed again. “Real fucking catch.” Breathing hard, he looked down at his feet again.

“Hey!” Stan growled. He grabbed Eddie’s face roughly, his fingers digging into Eddie’s cheeks so Eddie would look up at him. “You are great. You are a catch. You are so fucking caring, and sweet, and hot. And strong.” Eddie tried to pull away, but Stan shifted, pushing him back. “You’re so fucking strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Yeah, life sucks right now. I get it. Mine does too. But it’s not going to suck forever.” A tear trickled down Eddie’s cheek. “It’s not going to suck forever.”

Eddie sucked in a deep breath. “I just- I don’t even know what I’m really doing here.”

“You’re doing your best,” Stan said gently. “And your best is good enough.” Eddie sighed, all the fight leaving his body, and he brought his hands up to Stan’s wrists.

[shipping-receiving]

JB Fav Fics

Ages ago, I reblogged @chickren​‘s post (from 2013!) and I promised to give it a shot but got all tied up with my dissertation and my own fic. Now that my dissertation is done, I HAVE COMPLETED THIS. Bear in mind these answers might be a bit ‘dated’ as well (by a few months) because I’ve not been reading much fic on my end. Turns out when I’m writing my own, I can only hold one version of J/B in my head. 

Anyway this list is LONG AND TOOK ME FOREVER and I also wrote comments because I can’t help myself. So everything is under the cut. I took out the Shuffled Challenge one (very 2013 lol) and I replaced it with a category called... favourite S8 fix-it. Can you believe it? After I made all this noise about not being able to read fix-its?

[J/B Fic Recs: Master Post if anyone needs it before we start things off]

Favourite fic set immediately after ADWD Second to fucking none: Honor Thy Regard by SigilBroken Nights Without Armor by bratanimus

Favourite fic set a long time after ADWD Oh. Salt Wife by Lady_in_Red. Breathtaking simplicity.

Favourite TV canon fic Pretty and Traveling Far by astolat A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf

Favourite S8 fix-it Yes, I know. I can’t deal with fix-its. And yet. Ice by Gwen77 Ring Them Bells by kirazi Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_In_Red

Favourite modern AU Clean hands by you-know-who (... it’s Gwen77) + all the classics:  Fever by Lady_In_Red On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken And of course our recent fandom favourite: two halves of a soul by angel_deux

Favourite kiss (Don’t specify chapter) Okay this is kind of a random one but I remember re-reading Roommate Wanted by JustAGirl24 a couple months back, and when they finally kissed I wanted to freaking throw my phone across the room. It’s not even described in detail, it was just such a perfectly timed OMFG!!! THEY KISSED! moment.

Favourite smut Anything by Miss_M, good lord. My all-time favourite is Golden and True (modern AU, sequel to Ball and Chain), but for canon!verse it has to be Heart’s Desire and Spring Awakening. And obviously I have to say Flawed by francoeurs – smut exploring J/B’s Issues with a capital I? I’m THERE.

And for multi-chapter fic, Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria is fire. Oh and also, everyone’s favourite professor AU, Stacked by QuizzicalQuinnia.

Favourite UST On the Night’s Watch and Someone to Watch Over Me by Miss_M. I love that these two fics take place over such a short time (a few days) but they manage to feel like slow burns. That’s fucking skill right there.

Best written fic I hate this question. You want me to pick the best-written fic out of the FIVE THOUSAND J/B FICS ON AO3? Lmao I’m skipping.

Favourite fic with an unusual premise Multiverse central: All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66 In which Brienne can turn into a sea lion: This Is Your Wilderness by hardlyfatal GENDER SWAP: all knights are gallant and all maids are beautiful by janie_tangerine Jaime is a sculptor: Madonna of the Balcony by QuizzicalQuinnia Jaime does needlework: Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

Favourite action scene Words by astolat. The entire battle sequence.

Favourite dialogue Clean hands by Gwen77, Chapter 9. So cathartic, and SO MUCH HAPPENING. Not just J/B but Tyrion and Cersei on the phone too. I mean I just tried to re-read it to pick an excerpt (I can’t) and I already started crying lmao

Favourite characterization of Jaime A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf. THE NUANCE. THE DETAIL.

Favourite characterization of Brienne Any fucking thing by Gwen77. Especially Clean hands, Diplomacy and Ice.

Favourite relationship development Where I follow, you’ll go by Lady_In_Red Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken, OBVIOUSLY It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Patience on a Monument by betts, even though they’re already friends, because betts makes me sit through Jaime/Sansa and Brienne/Tormund and yet I still re-read this.

Favourite use of non-typical character. Exclude these: Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, Hyle, Cersei, Sansa, Margaery, Tyrion, Daenerys, Selwyn, Tywin. Hmm this is a tough one. Maybe Loras the photographer in Living Fiction by Archetype_Electraheart

Favourite plot In This Light by SigilBroken for canon!verse endgame On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M and Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria for modern AU. I love J/B investigating stuff together.

Favourite title Nobody Knows / You Know and I Know by Miss_M “There’s a story,” Brienne says, “about a corrupt official who went to a sage and offered him to take part in a scheme, promising no one would ever know. ‘How can you say that?’ the sage replied. ‘I know, and you know, and the earth knows, and the sky knows.’”

Favourite WiP (finished or unfinished) With All Your Faults by seaspirit (close to the end!!!) The Descent by openmouthwideeye And this is finished but Tale As Old As Time by BrienneofThrace. She came back after like four years to finish it?! That alone is fandom magic.

Favourite long one-shot Pretty by astolat (wtf this is 30k?)

Favourite short one-shot OH MY GOD THE GLASSES FIC. Age Gap by ikkiM

Favourite drabble Mmmmm I don’t really read drabbles so I’ll skip this too.

Favourite beginning What is True, But Not Ideal by Vera: Jaime doesn’t appear for like four chapters and yet I was still on board.

Favourite ending IT’S FUCKING Clean hands by Gwen77 OKAY DON’T @ ME. Traveling Far by astolat – because she just Went There and gave J/B five kids The Sorrows That Women Cause by Mussimm (seventh and final part of Works and Days, in which they just... bang)

Favourite story twist more like the man you were meant to be by janie_tangerine. I mean, this isn’t really an internal twist, more like a twist on canon The Importance of Knocking by Miss_M, since it’s a story twist for Cersei lol.

Funniest story St George's Day by sansasparky The Best Legs You've Ever Seen by ikkiM

Favourite angst In the first version of this list I said I wouldn’t pick Gwen77 again for this one, and then I re-read Ice and cried my eyes out for like, the whole thing. Special mention for catherineflowers’ series We Need to Talk About…, because of how much she just commits entirely to some really dark stuff. It’s something I wouldn’t necessarily re-read, but just the audacity it took for her to write this is really impressive.

Favourite fluff The Higher Education of Brienne of Tarth and Drunken Shenanigans with Jaime and Brienne by BrienneofThrace. Anything by BrienneofThrace to be honest. She does the purest J/B. Also, Nothing That Is So, Is So by RoseHeart, and i get to be the other half of you + The 'Kiss Me' Series by sameboots.

Favourite Jaime line Yooooooo that part in Laying Siege by astolat when Jaime just launches into his wedding proposal: “I swear to you before these witnesses that I will protect Sansa Stark with my life, beside you. I will never take the field against her. I will take your name and your crest and your house as my own—”... I can feel myself being Brienne going WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Favourite Brienne line Yeah yeah here I go picking Gwen77 again. The very last lines of all her fics always slay me, but this is the only line I can quote verbatim, from Diplomacy: “Trapped, he had said, worry in his voice. Ruined. She had never felt so free.”

Favourite general line or excerpt I love the way Gwen77 commits to the motif of walls in Ice. I freaked out about it here. And then after all that talk about Brienne building up her walls she just HITS US WITH THIS FINAL LINE:

“Jaime was hers, encircling, warm, solid as a wall. He would catch her if she fell.”

Favourite non-romantic fic The tale of Squire!Brienne series by LadyRhiyana

Favourite maiming adaptation in a modern AU Fever by Lady_In_Red, because I love how the whole story is built on Jaime learning how to ride again with a mangled hand

Favourite kidfic Not really a full-on kidfic, but You Know and I Know (sequel to Nobody Knows) for that Jaime & Tommen relationship, plus that conversation J/B have about having kids in future. Oh, and so brief, but Traveling Far by astolat.

Craziest scene that was in character and made sense (Don’t specify chapter) Let’s just go for the entirety of Stannis Baratheon, Fantasy Football League Commissioner by ikkiM AND THAT FUCKING J/B/C FIC THAT I READ BECAUSE I DIDN’T LOOK AT THE TAGS OKAY: Pride by astolat

Most underrated fic My Fall by TeamGwenee. Witches in 1600s colonial America AND in first person POV? IT WORKS THO. Such an interesting and original premise, and written in a very refreshing succinct style, and yet this multi-chapter fic has less than 200 kudos. Another one with less than 200 kudos: and you’ve whispered what I’m worth by angel_deux, a really lovely Mad Max: Fury Road AU.

Most desperate to see updated NO PRESSURE!!! for our world is cold and full of monsters by chancellor_valdez room service by ssstrychnine A Star Within the Mere by isavedlatin (sigh)

Favourite J/B as a secondary couple Some Kind of Family by crossingwinter

Most haunting Fool by astolat. I don’t know why. It’s a very beautiful story and it’s not even a bad ending for J/B necessarily, but the fact that it ends the way it does just really fucks me up. It’s the only fic in my bookmarks that I don’t think I can ever bear to re-read.

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Jaime and another character One Of The Few Things by anniebibananie (Sansa) – I’m picking this just for the sheer I-can’t-believe-you-made-this-work-and-I-applaud-you factor

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Brienne and another character What Is True, But Not Ideal by Vera (Tyrion)

[orangeflavoryawp]

Tagged by @amymel86, @fedonciadale and @mycrazyfangirl21  Oh my gosh, the love is real.  <3

Tagging @sonderlust45, @ladyalice101, @riptidemonzarc, @frominfinitieswithin, @tacitwhisky, @a-time-for-wolvess, @sailorshadzter, @foofyschmoofer, @yourlocalpriestess, @goddesstiera,and anyone else who wants to have a go!

Ao3 name: orangeflavor

Fandoms: Alright, I’m going to stick just with the ones I’ve written for, though there are many I haven’t dabbled in yet but actively consider writing for.  So currently, Game of Thrones, Mass, Effect, Dragon Age, Naruto, X-Men, Harry Potter, Record of Lodoss War, Sailor Moon, Star Trek- Deep Space Nine.

Number of fics: On Ao3?  82.  But I have more elsewhere.  Somewhere, lol.

Fic you spent the most time on: Oh, definitely ‘Secret Burdens’, my Storm/Wolverine X-Men fic from years ago.  That baby was my first disastrous attempt at longfic, and it took me almost seven years to finish.

Fic you spent the least time on: I mean, this is a boring answer, but any one of my many 100 word drabbles probably?  I’m not sure, the majority of my work is one-shots, so it’s anyone’s guess on that, considering I tend to finish one-scene one-shots in a single sitting.

Longest fic: ‘Sheparding Men’ at 92.391 words in the Mass Effect fandom, though unfinished.  And it looks like ‘From Instep to Heel’ will be overtaking that by the time it’s done.

Shortest fic: Aside from my 100 word drabbles and other drabble collections, my shortest stand-alone published fic is ‘Take Root’ at 743 words, from the Mass Effect fandom.  One of the faves actually, even still.

Most hits: ‘From Instep to Heel’ at 16.614

Most kudos: ‘From Instep to Heel’ at 945 (what the heck, I’m still reeling)

Most comment threads: ‘From Instep to Heel’ at 337 (y’all, I’m crying)

Fave fic you wrote: Oh god, we’re going there?  Damn, okay, um, I’m gonna list two then.  One that always comes to mind is ‘Reckoned from One Midnight to the Next’, a two-part poetic prose piece exploring grief and healing.  Mass Effect fandom.  Shepard/Kaidan.  Some of my favorite passages/language that I’ve used, especially since I write original poetry.  It was a way to meld my two loves, and honestly, this piece sticks with me even years later.

The second one would have to be ‘A Violence Done Most Kindly’.  Game of Thrones fandom.  Jon/Sansa.  It was my first successful longfic (and when I say ‘successful’ I don’t mean by reader reception, I mean I actually finished it and followed a semi-coherent plot, lol).  I was super proud of all the plotlines and thematic pieces I was able to tie together, all the meaning I was able to give to narratives that never got fully explored or finished in the show.  And it was a take I hadn’t seen done before, so I was proud of that.  The story holds a lot of meaning for me, and it was also a way for me to explore the Jonsa community even deeper, which was hugely impactful, and another reason why this story is considered my fave.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: There’s three actually - all unfinished WIPs that I still have lots of ideas for, but have since wondered from the fandoms and thus, the mindset, to be able to finish them properly.  The first being a Harry Potter fic from years ago, called ‘This Isn’t Me’.  Hermione/Draco, post-war, PTSD exploration.  I still think about it a lot.

The second one is ‘Sheparding Men’.  Mass Effect fandom, with Shepard/Kaidan, Shepard/Thane, and Shepard/Garrus all explored to differing degrees.  But that one takes a lot out of me, since that Shepard is so dark and emotionally damaged, and it spans the length of all three games.  I love her to pieces, but man is it emotionally exhaustive to wade through her shit and get it to the page.

The third one is my baby ‘Rocks and Shoals’.  Also Mass Effect fandom.  Kolyat/Oriana.  One of my dearest pieces.  I have so much in mind for them, and I want to finish their story so bad, but this is another one that takes it out of me emotionally.  Why do I always get myself into these post-war, PTSD-riddled, haunting, survival-themed type of stories?  It’s my niche, I guess, I don’t know.  But yeah, Kolyat and Ori are my babies, my little shitheads.  I think of them often.

Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

From the upcoming chapter of ‘From Instep to Heel’:

She sighs again, this time sharper, a tug at her lungs, eyes roving over the city.  “Jon is...”  She bites her lip, keeps her gaze resolutely from her brother.

Robb runs his free hand through his hair, brow drown down in concern.  “Not the prince you imagined?”

She glances to him, watches the way the blaring sun glints like fire off his hair.  That blood-red hair.  “Is any of this like we imagined?” she asks softly.

Robb purses his lips, looking ahead as they walk.

Sansa thrums her fingers along his arm in thought, gaze returning to the city beneath them.  “He is, perhaps, inelegant at times, but I feel he has – "  She stops, tries to find the words, huffs over their inadequacy.  “I think he is a man of deep feeling.”

* * *

Okay, that was kind of interesting to go through all those questions.  Thanks so much for the tags, guys!  The Jonsa fam has truly shown me love.  I am unworthy, lol.

Keep writing, fam!  Much love.  <3