#what if out of nowhere i wrote silent hill fic in the form of like. diary entries/notes written by maria. im thinking im envisioning im

[lucky-draws]

maria...

[umbry-fic]

Passed between these hands of ours

Summary: It’s easy, really! I’ll show you!

The passing of joy from one person to the next, like stones pressed from hand to hand.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Original Character Relationships: Colette Brunel & Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel & Original Character Rating: G Word Count: 3218 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 16/01/2023

Notes: This was a fic I wrote for day 1 of @tosrcountdown! It also has art by @silent-shanin, which you can see here :) This fic takes place maybe two to three years after the end of the game, when Lloyd and Colette are still on their post-canon journey to hunt down all the Exspheres.

I was super happy to be able to take part in this event and see everyone else's amazing work for one whole month! Do check out all the other contributions!

~~~

Lloyd trudged up the path towards the lake on the outskirts of Palmacosta, stifling a long yawn with one hand. His other was preoccupied with carrying a sack slung over his shoulder, preventing it from dragging along the ground and gathering dirt on the burlap. It was filled to the brim with various fruits that he’d picked up at the market, the colourful, sweet foods that Colette loved so much now much less of a rarity. He hadn’t yet had the time to pack it into their travelling supplies, hurrying to catch up to wherever Colette had wandered off to.

Just an hour ago, with the sun barely cresting over the hills, he and Colette had arrived in town, unable to muster up even the energy to mutter the usual “We’re here”. Neither of them had caught much sleep last night, the usual nightmares having intensified into a terrifying crescendo that descended upon them without warning. They’d taken to huddling by the ashes of their campfire with their knees pressed together, a blanket haphazardly thrown over their shoulders and a cup of coffee in hand, counting the stars together. Their flickering brilliance, never dimming and reassuring in their constant presence, served to calm their racing hearts, until an uneasy sleep finally claimed them, their cups abandoned on the ground, their fingers intertwined.

The reason she’d specifically raised the suggestion to come to Palmacosta a week ago had escaped him. She’d simply stated that it was on the way, and that it would be a good place to stock up on supplies once more, her gaze never straying from the orange tongues of their campfire, reaching towards the sky. The silence of the night had remained unbroken after, Colette staring off into the distance, seemingly lost in thought.

Far be it for him to deny her request, no matter what the reason behind it. It was, after all, still a rare occurrence for her to speak up about something that she wanted, even if she was getting better at shrugging off all that the role of Chosen had placed upon her shoulders. There was a long, difficult path ahead of her, and he would do anything to help her walk it, to ensure she didn’t have to do it alone.

The moment they’d arrived in Palmacosta, she’d split off towards the Church, while he’d paid a visit to the marketplace. Rather unusual, for Colette still loved to peruse the interesting wares on display at the various stalls, and never missed the chance to do so. Running her fingers over their surfaces, both rough and smooth, and conversing with the stall owners to learn more about them. Her curiosity never dimmed, shining bright like a star, no matter how many times she’d done it before.

By the time he’d fought his way through the small crowd that was already forming - despite it being the early hours of the morning - and made his way back to the Church, Colette was nowhere in sight. Asking around had led to one of the priests kindly informing him that she’d headed towards the lake.

Maybe she just really wanted to see it? It was beautiful, in that spectacular way that small Iselia couldn’t replicate. Thinking of the lake by his home, no matter how clear the water was, only made him feel like he was soaking in the warmth of familiarity, as if he was sitting by the hearth, Noishe curled around him. The lake here, in contrast, was twice as large and pristine, stealing his breath away without fail. He supposed, no matter how far and long they travelled, that the world outside of home would never lose that sense of wonder.

A glimpse of gold snapped him out of his thoughts. He quickened his steps, making his way towards Colette. Finally, he’d found her! She stood by the lake, the golden strands that had caught his attention waving in the wind. Right next to her was another girl that was barely half her height, curly green hair falling to her shoulders. And on a checkered picnic blanket nearby was an older woman with the exact same shade of hair - the little girl’s mother, if he had to guess. She was calmly unpacking food from a basket, though her pale green eyes never left her daughter, staring like a hawk. There was, however, not a hint of wariness within them.

The lake itself was as gorgeous as ever - with the sun now hanging higher in the sky, it cast diamonds of light across the water’s surface, dragonflies dancing through the air to land on the sprouting lily pads.

“Lloyd!” Colette waved him over with a bright smile, her exhaustion from this morning having seemingly melted away, introducing him to the girl that had quickly ducked behind her legs at his approach. “This is Miriam. And over there is Miss Emma.”

At the mention of her name, a thought arose, tickling the back of his mind. Something that Colette had once told him, a long time ago, back when they were still on the Journey of Regeneration and sleep had evaded her. About Palmacosta and the Mana Lineage…

The shy blue eyes that blinked at him from the pale face that peeked out from behind Colette’s legs were what confirmed his suspicions, making the pieces click into place. They were the same eyes that had stared at him in shock when he was six and had barrelled straight into one of his fellow students outside the schoolhouse, sending them both tumbling to the dirt.

The girl before him now was the next in line to be Chosen, and would have been the next Chosen at her young age if the worst fate had befallen Colette at any point on the Journey of Regeneration.

The thought itself made him feel sick to the stomach. Both at the idea of something even happening to Colette, and at the realisation that, in some way, she had been replaceable from the very beginning. That the Church, at least, wouldn’t truly have cared if anything were to happen to her, for they had another Chosen waiting in the wings.

Both of them must have been subjected to the same dehumanising treatment, seen as nothing more than tools.

“Hey,” he whispered, giving Miriam a little wave as he knelt to be at her level, not wanting to scare her any further. Her vice grip on Colette’s legs loosened a little as she continued to blink at him, still not saying a word. “I’m Lloyd.”

“I’m gonna teach her how to skip stones across the lake!” Colette uncurled the hand she’d been holding by her side this entire time, revealing the smooth pebble hidden within.

Starting at those words, he shot back onto his feet in one go. He hadn’t expected that she would still remember - she had only managed to try stone skipping on a summer day from long ago, and never again. A single day which should have faded easily from memory, after so long being worn down by the sands of time.

But she’d held onto that memory all this while, never letting it fade.

Colette grinned, the sight sending a current of warmth straight to his heart.

“Just like you once did!”

~~~

“I’m sorry you had to get scolded by the priests,” Colette mumbled, fidgeting as she bowed her head, staring at her feet. Above them, dense leaves blocked out the sky, leaving the sun’s rays no space to squeeze through. And before them was the lake that was but a stone’s throw from his home, clear and serene.

“Hm?” He glanced up from where he was sitting on the dirt, stacking pebbles into a pile that would be essential for what he wanted to do next.

With the summer heat looming over his head at all times, it was rather hard to remember things, slipping from his mind as easily as sand would slip between his fingers. He’d forgotten about his homework countless times already, and gotten punished by Professor Raine each time in return. But he could at least remember the scolding he’d gotten barely half an hour ago, when he’d gone to the Church to fetch Colette from her training, as was his usual routine. Wait for her long and stuffy training to finish, before bringing her along to have some fun!

And hope he could put a smile on her face.

The priest had prattled on and on about proper titles and respect, face growing redder by the second. He’d tried to follow the priest’s words, he truly had, but he’d started tuning them out before long.

“I guess you should just call me -”

“No need to think about any of that!” he interrupted, grabbing a smaller pebble from atop the pile and pressing it into her hand. “It’s time to have some fun. We’re gonna skip some stones!”

She stared down at the pebble in her hand like it was some mystical artefact, confusion clouding her face, his hand still covering hers. “But I… don’t know how…”

“It’s easy, really! Come on, I’ll show you!” He was an expert at this, having practised until his stone could hop across the lake not once, not twice, but thrice. Surely there’d be no problem teaching her all that he knew!

“You curl your fingers around the pebble, just like this,” he instructed, using his other hand to position her fingers just right. This was the grip he’d perfected over countless hours spent here alone, hurling stone after stone as he waited for the sun to dip beneath the horizon, when Dad would come and get him, Noishe nipping at his heels all the while.

“And then you pull your wrist back, like this!” Colette demonstrated, pebble in hand, her grip an exact mirror image of his own, so many years ago. Miriam watched with rapt attention, having finally emerged from behind Colette.

“You pool all your strength into it…”

“And let go!” she cheered, her stone practically whooshing across the lake’s surface with enough noise to rival a roaring dragon. It arced into the air before bouncing once onto the water, a mini geyser shooting into the air at the impact. Before it exceeded the lake entirely, slamming into - or rather straight through - a tree at the opposite shore, tearing through wood like it was nothing more than paper and scattering splinters. Emitting a huge crash that made all of them wince and leaving behind a pebble-sized tunnel that provided a wonderful view of the forest beyond.

“...oops. I might have forgotten how much strength I have now…” Colette smiled sheepishly, frozen in place. If her wings were out right now, Lloyd knew that they would be flapping rapidly, dispersing the nervous energy she had always radiated whenever she got chided by Professor Raine.

“That was so cool!” exploded out of Miriam, the first words she’d uttered out loud in front of him. It seemed she was finally starting to warm up to them, as she clapped her hands together, a small smile beginning to form. “Please, Miss, won’t you teach me how to do that?”

It was enough, to observe from the sidelines with a contented smile playing on his lips, as Colette showed Miriam the ropes, the sight filling his chest with a sweet warmth.

This was what they had fought so hard for. The future they had dreamed of - where all were free as a bird, able to spread their wings and soar, regardless of who they were or where they came from. Able to do whatever it is they wished to, not weighed down by any burden.

Even if that wish was as simple as skipping stones across a lake, giggles rising into the air.

~~~

The sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, painting the lake’s surface in strokes of pink and oranges, so different from the pale blue it had been this morning.

They’d been at it for hours, throwing stone after stone, ensuring that the lake’s surface never saw any rest, ripples constantly spreading across it. Lloyd had joined in at some point, before leaving with her cousin to go rent a room at the inn.

Miriam was tuckered out by now, having tried her best to improve, her stones making their wobbly trips across the lake. Colette had watched the quiet, formal demeanour slowly slip from the other girl, who had begun acting more and more like a child, with nothing to interrupt this moment of peace and fun - no priests to pull either of them away, snapping at them to return to their prayers. Days like these had been rare for her, and she hoped that Miriam’s coming days would be stuffed full of them.

“Miss.” Miriam yawned, eyelids drooping as her head fell against Colette’s arm. “I still don’t know your name.”

Colette sighed, folding her hands in her lap. It was a little too much to hope that this question wouldn’t come up.

“It’s Colette.” She gave a weak smile, patiently waiting for the dots to connect in Miriam’s head.

She’d considered it, not letting the truth slip. To lie about who she was and remain nothing more than a family friend who had come to visit. Not the person who this little girl must have been taught to treat with the utmost respect, and whose shadow had hung over her for her entire life.

But it wouldn’t be fair to obscure the truth, and besides, it wasn’t feasible to keep it from her forever, even if Colette didn’t wish to see the aftermath.

The moment Miriam realised was obvious. Her back stiffened, head bowing slightly. A familiar pose, reflected to her in a mirror. How many times had she adopted it herself, begging for forgiveness for whatever transgression she had committed, fear rolling off her in waves?

“C - chosen!” she stammered, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know -”

“Hey, it’s okay.” She placed a reassuring hand on the other girl’s shoulder. A hand that had she had very much needed when it seemed like the loneliness would swallow her whole, a hand that Lloyd had given her so often, until she realised that it was alright to lean on him.

“I’m not in trouble?”

“No, you’re not.” She gently wiped away a tear rolling down the other girl’s cheek, hoping her smile could somewhat calm the turmoil that must surely be raging within her heart. “You can call me whatever you want, really. But I like being called Colette!”

“Okay, then. I guess I’ll… call you Miss Colette?” The grin Miriam tried for was shaky at best, tears still budding in her eyes.

“Would you like a hug?” she offered, perfectly ready to give one. “There was someone who gave me hugs whenever I needed one, and they always made me feel -”

The other girl had already buried herself in Colette’s outstretched arms before she could even finish her sentence, silent sobs racking her shoulders.

“So don’t ever be afraid to ask for one,” she murmured, rubbing comforting circles into the other girl’s back, waiting for the storm to tide over. Like all things, it would come to an end, just as the shadows of the night would inevitably be burned away by the morning sun.

And the future ahead was bright, illuminated by the stars. Infinite paths stretched out before them, paved with the hopes and dreams they were free to explore, now that there was time to figure out who they wanted to be, without anyone telling them who they needed to be.

~~~

“That was a nice thing you did today,” Lloyd whispered, continuing to comb a hand through her hair. Now that the sun had said its final farewells for the day, the only source of light was the flames dancing joyously in the fireplace of the inn room, casting a soft orange glow that only served to make Lloyd’s expression seem ever more gentle.

Humming, she turned to press her face further into his chest, letting the soothing rumble of his voice reverberate through her. With the natural silence of the night descending upon them and Lloyd’s comforting warmth embracing her, it was difficult not to simply fall asleep, carried away by the kisses he pressed to her hair. But still, she clung to the final threads of wakefulness, wanting to enjoy this moment in time for a little longer.

“Not really. You were the one who taught me all of this first, you know. So, thank you…”

The courage to chase her own happiness - he’d taught her that, so long ago, when he’d still been a bright-eyed child with scratched knees, holding her hand tight and never wanting to leave her behind. That day by the lake was a treasured memory that she cradled close to her chest, refusing to let go of.

She could only hope, as sleep finally claimed her, that she’d successfully passed on what he had taught her - like passing stones, from hand to hand, in hopes that it would lead to a better world.

~~~

“Hey,” he mumbled, the heat making his words come out slurred, his head stuffed to the brim with cotton wool. “Do you want me to call you Chosen?”

His head lolled backwards, his feet kicking in the clear water of the lake, forming ripples that spread outwards and distorted his own reflection. After all the vigorous stone skipping they’d done - Colette gradually improving as her stone chased after his with each throw, courageously leaping closer and closer - he was utterly exhausted. There was sweat dripping down his forehead, his eyelids heavy, shirt sticking to his skin. Perhaps that was what had made the words slip out, to echo within the safe buzz of summer, under the vibrant blue sky that seemed like it would never fade.

“I… well, you probably should.” She shifted, just slightly away from him, her hair falling to shield her face from sight. Yet it didn’t hide her hands, curling into fists in her lap. “It would help you avoid getting scolded by the priests.”

He blinked, the words taking a moment to worm their way through his mind and register. “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you wanted me to call you that.”

“It’s… who I am, isn’t it? So it’s only right…”

“No, silly!” A soft knock to her head finally made her turn towards him, blue eyes wide. “I’m asking if it would make you happy for me to do that. You could just as easily stay Colette forever, if that’s what you want.”

“Well, I…” She bit her lip, hands wringing in her lap, voice dropping to a shy whisper. “I’d like that. To remain me forever, however you see me.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard!” He grinned, taking her hand in his. “Besides, I like you best as just Colette.” His closest friend in the whole wide world.

Happiness bloomed in her eyes, like the sweetest of flowers that he would ever get to see, a light flush dusting her cheeks. A sight that made his heart trip over its feet, for reasons he was yet to understand.

He’d just have to call her Colette forever, so he could see this very sight, again and again.

[talesfromthesnogbox]

Stuck Here With you

Rating: M (Rating for explicit conversations about sex) 

Words: 3,586

Summary: Richie and Eddie are stuck quarantining themselves together... what could possibly go wrong? OR based on this tweet: "@cjkasulke: APPARENTLY you have all just been *waiting* for this moment to confess your love to your roommates, so many of you live with people you have been silently in love with for y e a r s"

Notes: This is so stupid. Yes, I wrote a quarantine fic. Yes, this whole thing is a serious matter and I am an adult who's working from home and it all sucks, and there are people dying all over the world, and I do care, but I just thought people needed a little bit of a laugh, ya know? Anyways, this is wildly out of character and not good in general, but drop a comment if you like it, or if you think I'm a horrible person, whateves.

AO3

*~*~*~*~*

Richie woke from his catnap with a startled jump as he heard the front door slam shut.

“Jesus Eds, is it 6:30 already? Did I sleep all day?” He asked with a laugh.

“No asshole, it’s noon.” Eddie slammed his briefcase on the breakfast bar and worked his tie open. “This pandemic bullshit has gotten out of control.”

“Is that why you’re home right now…”

“Yes! Jared that fucking lunatic went off and brought some girl home last weekend and now he’s got a fever, so we were all sent home, and I’m stuck in isolation.”

Eddie was pissed, but Richie could see through his thinly veiled layer of anger; there was fear.

“Oh. Do you hang around Jared a lot at work?”

He sighed. “No, no I don’t, but it’s just a precaution until he can get tested properly.”

“That’s good then, right?”

It was good. After seven full days, Eddie finally emerged from his room with a cheery smile. “Jared’s in the clear, turns out he just picked up some STD, and I get to go back into work tomorrow.” He plopped down on the couch.

“That’s great Eds, but I hate to break it to you…” Richie pointed towards the TV where the headline read “California officially shut down”.

The first few days felt like any weekend would. They had extra groceries delivered, they binged some true crime documentary on Netflix, they had a group Skype session with the Losers, they did pretty much anything that took their minds off the current situation. But then the fifth day hit.

It was only 7am when Richie dragged himself out of bed for a coffee. Sure it was early, and he had nowhere to be, but time meant nothing anymore.

Usually Richie’s clamoring about the kitchen woke Eddie up. The first few nights that Eddie moved in after Derry were rough; turns out, Eddie was a pretty light sleeper, and Richie was loud. But today, there was no Eddie in sight.

He continued on his way, pouring himself a bowl of cereal when he saw it through the window to his backyard… and promptly spilled milk all over the counter.

On the bright side, Richie had found Eddie. The only downfall was he’d found him in a pair of tiny running shorts and a tank top doing squats on his deck.

“Fuck!” Richie swore, grabbing a tea towel to clean up the mess he’d made.

“Richie?” Eddie stopped his squats and ran into the house. “What the fuck happened dickwad?”

“N-nothing, nothing happened, it’s just early and I lost my grip.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“So um… what’s happening in the backyard there, Jillian Michaels?” Richie giggled.

“Fuck off. I usually go to the gym before work, but now that the gym’s closed, I had to improvise.”

“Ahh, I see, trying to pick up the new future Mrs. K with…” with thighs I want to wear as earmuffs and that tight ass? He was glad there was an entire counter between them to hide the fact that he was currently at half-mast.

Eddie gave him a strange look and shook his head. “Shut the fuck up. I’m a divorced 40-year-old living with his best friend, I don’t think I’m going to be picking someone up that easily at the gym. Besides, Santa Monica women aren’t really my type…”

“Oh? Well when this is all over, I know a few places we can go pick up chicks. West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, hell even Studio City. Name your type Eds, we’ll find her.”

“Aren’t you gay? How do you know so much about picking up women?”

“Closet case my boy.” Richie winked and took a bite of his cereal. “I’m as good of an actor as I am a comedian.”

“No wonder there were never any articles about how much of a playboy you were then.” Eddie said straight-faced, walking back out to finish his work out.

“Eds gets off a good one!”

*~*~*~*~*

After that eventful morning, Richie tried his hardest to stay in bed until after Eddie’s morning routine was done. One almost-embarrassing situation in his pants was enough to last a lifetime around his best friend of however-many years, he did not need it to escalate from there.

As the days passed on, the two of them found ways to entertain themselves. Eddie took to reading on the deck in the mild April weather, and Richie decided to pick up his guitar again for the first time in years.

He was a little rusty, but after a few hours of practice, it was like riding a bike, and before he knew it, he was back playing the tune he’d spent hours playing as a teenager.

Richie hummed along to the tune of “Eddie My Love” as his fingers formed the familiar chords with ease. He didn’t even realize Eddie walking in from the backyard, a stunned look on his face.

“Rich?” He jumped, startled at the sound of the other man.

“Hey Eds, sorry was I being loud?”

“N-no.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know you played.”

Richie chuckled. “Yeah, I picked it up in high school after Went agreed to teach me a bit. I was in a band in college, but we kinda sucked.”

Eddie scoffed. “You don’t suck, that tune is lovely. What is it?”

Richie’s face felt hot all the sudden. “Uhh, I can’t really remember the name, just something I used to play a bunch. It’s an oldie my mom really liked.”

“Can you teach me?”

His eyes widened. “Y-yeah, here, come sit.” He moved more away from the body and more towards the neck of his acoustic, allowing Eddie to sit nestled between his folded legs. “Okay, um so you hold it like this, and your fingers go here.” Richie curled Eddie’s fingers around the neck of the guitar, placing them in the correct spots on the frets. “So we start with a G chord.” His other arm snaked around Eddie’s shoulder to show him how to strum the chord.

Eddie shivered, completely engulfed by his best friend, noticing for the first time how much he loved his arms being wrapped around him like this.

“Then we move to an E minor.” Richie shifted Eddie’s fingers again and strummed. “Then A minor, and up to D.”

Eddie moved his fingers, pliant beneath Richie’s big hand. His heart beat fast, and he could feel Richie’s breath warm on his shoulder as he played.

For a moment, Eddie could convince himself that Richie felt the same way about him, but only for a moment. They were best friends, and just because Richie was gay, it didn’t mean he was interested in Eddie, no matter how hard he wished that he was. He would never have Richie, but he’d always have this moment.

*~*~*~*~*

“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting drunk.” Richie pulled out a rather large bottle of vodka and a few other spirits. “I’m mixing you up a quarantini.”

“A what now?”

“Quarantini, Eds. We’re getting shitfaced.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Rich, there’s no way in hell I’d—” he paused. Maybe this was the perfect way to come on to Richie. Lowered inhibitions were a great excuse to do something potentially stupid, and if it all went sour, he could blame it on the alcohol. “You know what, fuck it. Mix me a quarantini.”

“That’s the spirit!” He mixed the drinks and dragged Eddie over to the couch. “Alright, we’re indulging tonight. I want not a peep from you. I never got to do any of this gay shit before, and now is the perfect excuse to start a new series. We’re watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Eddie nodded his head. “Drag racing, okay cool, I like cars.”

Richie burst out laughing. “No asshole, drag race… like drag queens.” He popped on a random season and hit play.

Four episodes and many quarantinis later, both Eddie and Richie were yelling at the TV.

“How could they send April home, she’s like the hottest one there!” Eddie put his hands up.

“Right? Look at how hot he is ugh I just wanna…” Eddie glanced over at Richie with a smirk. “Shut up.”

“No, no, I see it.” He pulled out his phone, April’s instagram profile already loaded. “The scruff is driving me mental.”

Richie chuckled. “Eds, that sounds kinda gay.”

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Eddie said, face heating up. “Um, surprise?”

“Oh… shit dude, yeah, um, congratulations. Thanks for telling me.” Richie brought his friend into a tight hug, the alcohol running through his system making him feel a little light headed.

“Thanks for being cool about it.” Eddie mumbled, pulling away a bit, but still resting within Richie’s grasp.

“Hey man, I get it… I’m a closet case too.” He laughed.

The two were silent for a moment, content in each other’s grasp, until Eddie couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “Come on, next episode. I hope Laganja gets booted, I can’t stand her.”

Many episodes and quarantinis later, Eddie was fully shitfaced.

“Come on, bedtime for Eds.”

Eddie giggled. “Yeah Rich, take me to bed.” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made Richie’s heart stutter.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough from you.” Richie deposited Eddie onto the bed, helping him with his shirt, when Eddie pulled him down hard.

“Oops, sorry Rich.” He giggled. “’s not my fault, you’re trying to get me out of my clothessss.”

“You’re wearing jeans, I can’t let you go to bed in jeans Eddie. What kind of asshole wears jeans in quarantine.” Richie giggles, undoing Eddie’s zip and pulling his jeans down his hairless legs. Fuck, his legs are amazing. “Eds, do you wax?” Richie giggled, rubbing a hand up his thigh.

“Pffftt, we’re in isolation shithead, I haven’t been to my wax girl in weeks.”

A jubilant laugh bubbled from Richie’s chest. “Shit, I’ve learned more about you tonight than I have in all the years I’ve known you. You really are a twunk.”

“A what now?”

Richie planted himself down on the bed beside Eddie. “Twunk, hunky twink.”

A look of realization dawned on Eddie. “Ohhhh, that makes a lot of sense. The dude at the checkout told me I was a twunk when I went to buy those underwear without the butt.”

Richie’s brain went blank. “Eddie, do you wear thongs?”

“No asshole, the other thing without the butt. Jock something, I can’t remember.”

“A jockstrap? Eddie are you trying to kill me right now?”

“Shut the fuck up asshole! They’re good for working out in. And they don’t give me lines in my nice suit pants.” Richie was speechless. “So if I’m a twunk, what are you?”

“I—I—I think it’s time for bed.”

“Oh.” Eddie said sounding dejected. “O-or we could just hang out?”

Richie was at an impasse. He knew they were walking a thin line right now, and he shouldn’t stay, but he wanted to see where this would take him, he didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side.

“I think I could hang out for a bit.”

Their “hanging out” didn’t last very long. Within ten minutes, the two men were out cold.

Richie woke up first the next morning and left the soundly sleeping Eddie to go make a pot of coffee. His head was pounding, and as much as he knew the bright sunlight was going to burn his eyes, the fresh air couldn’t hurt.

He’d never been more thankful for his manager who also happened to be a fantastic decorator. The outdoor couch may have seemed stupid to him when he first bought the place, but at times like this, it was a great choice. He could relax, and look out towards the ocean, and forget everything that happened the night before.

That is until Eddie decided to join him.

Richie’s breath left his lungs once he got a good look at his friend. It was like a blast from the past seeing him in a pair of tiny red running shorts, much like those he wore when he was a kid, but now… now they were so much more. Richie’s mouth watered when his eyes caught a good look at how Eddie’s ass filled out the shorts. A large tank top donned his torso, one that Richie had been gifted, and definitely not been too comfortable wearing himself judging by how low cut the arm holes were. He looked hot, not that he wasn’t always attracted to Eddie, but this felt like something had changed, a sexual awakening of sorts, and Richie would never look at his friend the same way.

“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungover.” Eddie complained as he sat beside Richie. “That stupid drink went down like water.”

“Yeah man I hear you, I feel like shit.”

“I had fun though, it’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun.”

Richie looked over to him. “No regrets about spilling your guts then?”

Eddie winced. “Okay, maybe you didn’t have to hear about what kind of underwear I prefer.”

Richie burst out laughing. “No, I definitely appreciated that tidbit of information, Eds. I’m proud that my twunk theory was right.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward.” Richie mumbled to himself.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“N-nothing.” He said, darting inside. “Going to work on my new show, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Richie had to get out of there. Last night was a lot, sure, but something felt different today. Seeing Eddie in his boxer briefs felt almost safer than whatever the hell he was wearing today. It’s almost like… almost like he’d purposely dressed up for Richie, and it was killing him. He didn’t know how much more he could take before he combusted.

Unfortunately for Richie, this new look seemed to be Eddie’s new uniform. Richie could tell that now Eddie was out to him, he felt more comfortable being himself, but Richie hated every second of it.

He dreaded seeing Eddie in the morning, dreaded knowing what fresh hell lay beyond his bedroom door in the form of a 5’9 firey bundle of sex personified.

Nearly a month into their quarantine, it was finally warm enough for Richie to sit out by the pool. He donned the brightest swim trunks he could find and rubbed his pale skin down with sunscreen, soaking up some vitamin D.

He’d been out there for just under an hour when he heard (and felt) a splash from the pool where Eddie jumped in.

“Okay, I take back everything bad I ever said about you having a pool when the ocean is right there. The pool is definitely more relaxing than the beach.”

Richie giggled. “I told you, asshole.”

“Oh, and I totally figured out what you are now. If I’m a twunk, you’re an otter.”

“A what now?” Richie removed his sunglasses and moved to sit on the edge of the pool.

“An otter.” Eddie rested his elbows on Richie’s thighs as his calves framed his torso. “At least that’s what I think. It’s like a softer bear. You’re not quite as big and not enough hair to be a bear, and you’re still too thin to be a cub, so you’re an otter.”

“I understood exactly none of what you said except for ‘bear’. I met a bear on Grindr just before Derry that made me realize I like being the bigger body in bed.” Richie winked saucily.

“So you’re a top then Trashmouth?”

Richie’s brows rose into his hairline. “I—I—we are not talking about this right now, not when you’re this close to my dick.”

“Oh come on, you used to talk about your dick all the time.”

“Yeah, I was a closeted kid who’s balls hadn’t dropped yet, obviously I wanted to come off as heterosexual as I could.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, good point.”

The two sat in the same position for a few minutes, exchanging no words between them. It felt intimate, it felt like Eddie was flirting with him, but he’d never been good at picking up signs. Could Eddie want this too?

“I am though.” He said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

“You’re what?”

Richie’s heart thudded in his chest. “A top, I guess. I don’t mind bottoming, I like it, but I guess I just…”

Eddie grinned. “You like being in charge?”

“No, fuck no.” Richie laughed.

“Really? Huh, okay.” Eddie nodded, mostly to himself.

“Hey, what the fuck does that mean?”

“Nothing, nothing at all Tozier.” Eddie pushed off of Richie’s legs and floated on his back towards the inflatable lounger.

*~*~*~*~*

The week that followed was agonizing. All Eddie wore was those stupid shorts and a variation of t-shirt/tank-top/fucking crop top, and it was driving Richie mental. He felt like a teenager again, he’d never had so many hard-ons in one week in his life.

It was only a matter of time before Richie snapped.

Richie was descending the stairs from his room one fateful morning and groaned rather loudly when he saw what was waiting for him.

The shorts seemed shorter, tighter on his ass (damn all those squats he does) and his already short shirt seemed to rise up, showing the lovely dimples on his lower back as he reached for a bowl from a high shelf.

“Hey Rich, can you help me… what’s wrong?”

He huffed out a laugh. “What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wh—did I do something?”

Richie stared at Eddie in disbelief. “Did you… did you do someth—the shorts man, what’s with the shorts!”

“The shorts? I always wear the shorts.”

“I fucking know you always wear the shorts, that’s the problem!” Richie’s stomach rolled. He thought he was going to throw up, he’d never been this candid about his feelings in his life.

“You have a problem with the way I dress? Fuck you, dude.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward!”

Both men fell silent. The tension could be cut with a knife, it was so thick between them.

“Richie?”

“Fuck man, I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that, I just don’t know if I can take this anymore. We’ve been cooped up for a month and I swear I’ve done more jacking off in the last month than I ever did as a teenager.” As good as it felt to spill his guts, he definitely thought he was going to pass out any second.

“I—I don’t…”

“The worst part is, it’s not even just that I’m horny. It’s you! Shit man, I’ve been dreaming of you since we were fucking teenagers. And now… now here you are looking like a goddamn… a goddamn what’s the word… a goddamn snack, telling me shit about the sexy underwear you buy, and asking me if I’m a top. Eddie, I don’t know if you’re flirting with me or not, but Jesus fucking Christ, it’s taking every single fiber of my willpower to not rip your clothes off right now.”

Eddie held back a smile. “Wait, I’m sorry, what? You couldn’t tell I was flirting with you? Are you fucking blind? Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re fucking blind.”

Richie was sure he was gonna get a nosebleed any second. “S-so you were flirting with me?”

Eddie laughed out loud. “Yes you idiot! Literally since the moment I got here, I have been flirting with you. You didn’t get the hint that I have feelings for you?”

“What the fuck, no man! Like you said, I’m fucking blind. I thought you were straight until a few weeks ago!”

Eddie moved to lean against the island, closer to Richie. “You dumbass, I tried so hard the night I came out to you, why do you think I told you about what fucking underwear I wear?”

“I don’t know man, I’m not good at this shit.”

“Clearly!”

Richie cast his eyes down. “S-so, so you really like me?”

Eddie reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers. He pulled Richie closer to him, so he was pinned between Richie and the island. “I love you, dickwad.”

Richie huffed out a laugh. “I love you too.” He blinked rapidly, looking up towards the light. “Oh god, why am I crying.”

“Get over here you big baby.” Eddie detangled his fingers from Richie’s and brought his hand up to the other man’s cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. It was sweet, it was chaste, it was everything Richie wanted from Eddie when they were younger.

But he wasn’t a teenager, and he wanted more.

He dove forward, tongue clashing with Eddie’s. It was hot, it was toe curling good. He snaked his other hand down Eddie’s side, curling around his hip and moving to squeeze his ass. Eddie groaned and ground himself into Richie’s thigh.

“Fuck.” Richie said pulling away. “Fuck, how are you so hot? We’re fucking forty man.”

“Me? Dude, look at you. Your arms… your chest…” Eddie snaked his hand under Richie’s shirt, scratching at the smattering of hair on his pecs.

“Jesus man, I’m not gonna last… fuck… bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

*~*~*~*~*

The two men finally emerged from Richie’s bedroom for dinner later on with kiss bruised lips and satisfaction plastered on their faces.

“Anything good on?” Eddie asked as Richie turned on the TV. “Rich?”

Richie laughed. “You better come see this.”

“QUARANTINE LIFTED” The headline read as news anchors happily recounted the fall in new cases, and the rise in recoveries.

“You’re fucking joking.”

[nautilusopus]

4, 28, 39

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

40 (because I keep fucking adding to the list like a moron. All of them will be written, but I don’t want to start more than one multi-chapter thing in case it tempts me to slack off on my current project. 

I’m not counting one-shots because the ETA on those is “whenever I’m in the mood to put something up and don’t have any chapters to write”. So longfics only, but these are the current active projects that all have a chance of being the next thing I work on (after The Pale Man which is a oneshot but something I really should have done by now):

Diaspora: Me making Advent Children not suck. The end product will only bear a superficial resemblance to Advent Children, but I think that’s for the best. Strong case for this one being next, just so people will know what I consider “baseline canon” more or less (starting with an AU was a mistake). Also I really really really want to write a thing where Cloud interacts with a whole lot of kids because I think he’d be great with them, and The Number I lends itself very poorly to that despite the hints of it that I managed to cram in. Motorcycles and Jenova cults and Reunion, oh my.

She That Waits: Better title pending. Silent Hill and It – two great tastes that taste great together. What’s Dead And Buried (aka that time I just posted chapter 18 of The Number I as its own story to see how many random passersby would be interested in it on its own merits) was actually me focus testing some things for this story. People seem to have responded positively, and this is officially the next thing on the list, so there is a strong case for it being the next main project. 

BORD SHILLING. I LIKE BORB. [Better Title Pending]: Me yelling at Square for throwing around buzzwords. ANGEL WINGS DREAMS HONOUR DARKNESS SEE LOOK I CAN DO IT TOO. Postgame. For @limbostratus. Very sad, very sweet (I hope). Also probably kinda weird. Has priority due to being physically higher on the list and also for a friend. Also lower stakes than The Number I (though hopefully just as upsetting), which I think I might need.

Meddling Kids: Also high on the queue, also lower stakes, and probably a bit more lighthearted than some of the other stuff here. Modern Day AU. I’ve been enthusiastic about this idea for a while but just don’t have much of a plot for it yet. Pretty gay. Involves me printing out that one picture of Aeris wearing the skate-punk shorts and sneakers, grinding it into powder, and doing the entire rail off a picture of Bill Murray.  

A Symphony For Crows [Better Title Pending, god that one’s pretentious]: Me scraping up the remains of a novel I once wanted to write ever since I was like ten before I realised I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the characters I created and was a thousand times more invested in the cast of some RPG from the nineties and threw out the whole thing. Original setting. High fantasy. Oldschool faeries. Probably very flowery. Inspired by The Snow Queen a bit. Potentially the longest fic on here, apart from…

[Title Pending]: Me violently spewing hatred at the VII fanbase via allegory. That’s not what this started out as, honestly, but I noticed after a while that that’s sure what was sneaking in as unintentional subtext, so I just decided to roll with it. Partially the remains of several scrapped RP campaigns, partially some headcanons that I have kicking around that I realised could form a coherent story. Will not be published without at least getting Diaspora out of the way first. It’ll be tricky to pull off, due to its length, due to the fact that half of it is very OC heavy apart from Zack as the narrative shifts around, and due to the sheer scale of the fucking thing. I don’t know what order most of these are going to be in (and am accepting feedback on what you guys want to see first), but this one is definitely lower.

Dollhouse: Another story lower on the queue. Given that said queue is 40 fucking stories, “low” in this context means like… ten or eleven at most? but it’s not getting immediately published. Probably the darkest thing on this list, apart from maybe ^that one, and even then I think this one might be a little more upsetting. Won’t be published for a while because it’s the most OC-heavy story I have, and because I need to firmly establish myself as Not Crazy I Promise before I put it up. Thriller/psychological horror. 

[Title Pending] but I’ve been calling it Dumpsterman Roadtrip in my head: Cloud and Sephiroth and me examining their dynamic properly since no one else seems to be doing that. Not necessarily a redemption fic. I don’t know yet. Still a bit fuzzy, I haven’t done much concrete planning with it yet. It’s infuriating to me that there are a thousand million fics focusing on Cloud and Sephiroth’s relationship, and not a damn one of them does it properly despite being handed this great dichotomy on a silver platter. I get “OMG WHAT A SADIST THAT LIVES TO TORTURE THIS ONE MAN” is easier to write, but that doesn’t make it even remotely better. 

FROG ADVENTURE [Better Title Pending]: Cloud gets turned into a frog, separated from the group before anyone can realise what’s happened, spends like a year as a frog trying not to get eaten. The only G-rated one on the pending-projects list, I think. Still working out how I’m gonna handle this considering it’s also going to be either very OC-heavy or Cloud will be the only character saying anything throughout the entire thing. Either could be an interesting experiment. Classic sixties children’s book vibes for this one. 

The Doublemint Twins Visit the Kierkegaard Retrospective [Better Title Pending but I think this one is pretty good]: This fic used to be way different in the planning stages! In fact it was originally for sure going to be the next thing I wrote, but as I expanded the outline more and more everything just kept getting darker and darker and eventually I couldn’t figure out a single conceivable way there could be a happy ending. I consider happy (or at least bittersweet) endings mandatory for everything I write, so in the end I wound up scrapping it for a while until I picked up the bits I could still work with and rearranged them a little. This one’s still pretty existentialist, I think, but nowhere near as grim. I have no idea how to end this one either, but at least it doesn’t seem as grim as the last one did, which originally involved Cloud finding a lot of the clones (as in actual clones, not the way the story uses the term) Hojo made of him for the sake of backup organ harvesting still alive, and it turns out he’s also a clone, and the whole thing kind of devolved from there as I struggled to figure out what the fuck to do with like ten different Clouds that would end even remotely well. Also, I feel like a lot of people have done clones and siblings or whatever, but I have yet to see anyone that’s done this. 

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@cateringisalie, @auncyen, and @farfromdaylight are like the only people I read anyway. I can’t answer this question without my very very obvious bias showing. They have an actual understanding of the characters and don’t write the same fucking thing over and over again and that’s already more than anyone else is doing. 

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

Only the weird one that called me double reverse racist against myself and also Christians. 

I thrive off of negativity and the knowledge of how terrible everyone’s tastes are is enough to give me the inspiration to write entire goddamn novels, as you can see.