#also firm believer Ghost nags when he gets older

[gomzdrawfr]

Uncle Simon's babysitting journey, part 2

part 1

aftermath:

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Your Kind of Heaven

The prompt from @that-one-weird-fangirl2020​ was this:

Can I get #27, the angsty/fluffy list, with a Cayde-6 x Female!Gunslinger!Reader? Maybe throw in a passionate, romantic, first kiss?

Cayde-6 x (Gunslinger) Female!Reader

Warnings: non descriptive fight scene, internal demons, past trauma

1,991 words

Song Inspiration: To Hell & Back by Maren Morris

“Smoke was comin’ off my jacket and you didn’t seem to mind, I left a long trail of ashes and you said, ‘I like your style’.”

There were skeletons in your closet, demons in your mind, and there was only one way you knew of to deal with them. It involved your light, your gun, and a trail of ashes where your enemies used to be. If you kept moving, kept shooting, then you didn’t have to think. 

That’s when the trouble always came, when you were still.

You were reborn a guardian 3 days before the start of the Red War.

You had been introduced into a world of community and Light only to watch it crumble beneath the Red Legion. Somehow, by some miracle, you had escaped. You had managed to get off the Tower, get out of the City, and slipped out into the wilderness. There had been other guardians with you. Older guardians who tried to help, to show you the way while being lost themselves, had perished before your very eyes. It felt like you had been born into a world only to be useless. No matter what you did someone would die. Sometimes it was guardians, sometimes it was civilians, and many times you had wished it had been you rather than them.

When the Light finally returned, it was too late. The damage had been done. Your Ghost tried to reassure you that things would be different now, and as much as you wanted to believe him it was still difficult. It was why you avoided the other guardians now. You had lost so many people back to back to back. The idea of getting to know someone now was terrifying. What if war came again? What if you lost them? What if you weren’t strong enough to save them?

It was safer to keep to yourself.

To focus on missions.

To focus on bettering yourself.

To focus on your only working distraction.

Three shots, three dead Cabal. You stared at their motionless forms briefly before glancing around. The EDZ was quiet today, and now it was even quieter. You heaved a sigh in disappointment. The hope had been that Cabal in the EDZ would keep you busy for the whole morning, not just a couple hours.

“The area is clear.” Your Ghost confirmed.

You dismissed your helmet and rubbed the back of your neck. The area around you looked like the remains of an old city, abandoned and empty. Overgrown with vegetation all around, like nature had reclaimed what once belonged to it.

It was too quiet. The itch was back, and that dreadful voice whispered in the back of your mind. Before you could ask your Ghost to transmat you to the nearest world with a pest problem the sound of someone else transmatting distracted you.

“Hey there, partner.”

“Cayde.” You gave him a tight grin. Your Vanguard was the closest thing you had to a friend. He was the only person you really spoke to on a regular basis, other than your Ghost, and it was oddly because you actually enjoyed talking to him. Granted, it had started as just mission reports and training exercises, but somehow it had turned into drinks and ramyun and laughter.

He glanced at the empty buildings then looked back to you, “You really cleared this place out, huh? Busy morning?”

“Not busy enough.” You replied. “You need anything done? Anything at all?”

Cayde took a step toward you. It was closer than you were used to, but you didn’t move back. He had this look on his face, but it wasn’t concern. It wasn’t pity or worry or disapproval. Those were always the facial expressions you expected, but he never showed them to you. He always looked at you like this. With curiosity, with care, with amusement.

“Ever think about taking a vacation? I hear the pools of Io are nice this time of year.” Cayde suggested. He had his hands on his hips, his head tilted slightly.

You shrugged, “Sounds a little too…quiet.”

“And you don’t like quiet.” Cayde nodded. You had mentioned this to him before. That you needed action or movement at all times. The only exception being when you went to bed for a night of restless sleep. “Guess we just need to keep working on finding you a new hobby.”

“A new hobby?”

“Yeah, something that calms that brain of yours”, He lifted his hand to tap your temple with his gloved hand, “Without having to throw yourself into the fray again and again.”

You chuckled at the thought. That’d be nice. You weren’t sure anything could really quiet your mind. You were kind of positive this was just the curse of your existence.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of that kind of change, Cayde.”

Cayde shook his head, “No, no, no. Not change. I don’t want you to change ever, partner. I like you just the way you are. I just think a break every now and again will do you some good.”

He liked you the way you were. Skeletons, demons, cracks, and all. Cayde was staring at you again with that same look on his face. Amusement and adoration. His blue eyes glowed with a warmth that always seemed to reach the core of who you were. He wasn’t scared of you and didn’t bat an eye at your flaws.

And it was then that you realized that things were quiet. With Cayde looking at you the way he was, the softness of his Exo features focused only on you, it was quiet. Your mind wasn’t racing with regrets of the past or fears of the future. You felt at ease.

“I can’t think when you keep looking at me like that.” The words fell from your lips before you were fully aware of them. They were nearly a whisper. Cayde was closer now, he was the only thing in your vision, and you were ok with that. Your eyes darted down to his mouth unintentionally.

The urge to close the small gap between you was strong, and it scared you. Things would be different if you did that and that voice in the back of your mind nagged and nagged. The decision was taken away from you when the sound of whistling filled the air. The two of you recognized it around the same time, you could see it on his face, and both of you whipped around just as three Cabal containment pods hit the Earth a few yards away kicking up dirt and dust. Honestly, you were just lucky they hadn’t landed on top of you. You had the bad luck of being a containment pod magnet. And maybe you were also lucky that your usual distraction had showed up just in time to prevent a potential life altering mistake.

“They didn’t even give me time to stretch.” Cayde said as the Cabal began to open fire.

You called back your helmet and dove out of the way of a tossed grenade. What was supposed to be a quick battle, turned into a rather large mess. More Cabal had come after you and Cayde dealt with the first wave, but their presence had attracted a nearby squad of Fallen. So now the two of you were sandwiched between two enemies who were both shooting at you and behind you. Some wandering Guardians had happened upon the scene though, and the enemies were quickly dealt with. While Cayde had his back turned to you, greeting one of the Hunters that had stumbled onto the scene, you had your Ghost transmat you back to your ship.

The entire flight back to the Tower you were kicking yourself. You had been so close to doing something so stupid. Letting your professional relationship with Cayde turn into a friendship had been stupid. Opening up to him about your fears and worries one drunken night had been stupid. Wanting to kiss your Vanguard in enemy territory just because you liked the way he looked at you? That was downright crazy.

Once at the Tower, you made a beeline to your living space. The plan was to grab some supplies and then book it out to Nessus or Io. You could scoop up a long surveillance mission from someone who didn’t want to spend a month out in the wild and do so yourself. That’d keep you busy and distracted.

“Someone is here.” Your Ghost hummed before disappearing from your sight. Before you could question him a heavy knock came from your door. Your apartment was tiny. It consisted of one room with a second small room branched off it that worked as the bathroom. This meant there was only one door in and out unless you were going to try and escape through the window, but you weren’t that desperate. Yet.

“I know you’re in there, partner.”

Your eyes glanced at the window in temptation.

‘If you climb out the window, I won’t revive you when you fall.’ Ghost joked internally.

You knew that was his nice way of saying you needed to answer the door, and more so you knew he was right. After steeling yourself, trying to push all non-professional thoughts of Cayde out your head, you walked to the door and pulled it open.

He was leaning against the frame, his armor still messy and dirty from the last fight. The moment your eyes caught his all the steeling of your mind had fizzled out in a hot mess of fireworks in your brain. You were back in that same position you found yourself in earlier. Except now the chances of the Cabal interrupting you were slim to none.

“You left before we could finish our conversation.” Cayde said firmly.

You swallowed the lump that seemed to have formed in your throat, “I think we both know that we were done talking.”

This time is was his gaze that dropped down to your lips before slowly dragging back up to your eyes. Cayde nodded once, “You’re probably right.”

You didn’t know if you moved first or if he did, but the two of you collided. Your lips were on his mouth and his hands were cupping your face then tangling in your hair. Thoughts weren’t needed when you were kissing him. It was all action and instinct, like your body was moving on its own accord and you were just there for the ride. Your gloves traced his firm armored chest while he pulled back on your hair slightly to expose your neck enough for him to pepper kisses down in until he reached the edge of your armor.

You sucked in a sharp breath of air when his mouth caught a sensitive spot on your neck and that was like throwing gas on a flame. You pulled his face back up to yours to kiss him. In one swift movement, Cayde’s hands went to the back of your thighs to scoop you up while his foot kicked the door shut behind you. He turned and pushed your back against the door deepening the kiss. He tasted like his favorite drink and you wondered if he had stopped to take a shot before coming here.

After another moment he pulled his mouth away leaving you breathless. His face lingered close though as you took in air. You had your arms wrapped around his shoulders, but now you brought your hands in to cup his face. Your thumb traced the edge of his cheek as his warm eyes didn’t leave yours. It was quiet in the room and you were ok with that because it was also quiet in your mind.

“I think this could be a good hobby for you.” Cayde spoke up suddenly, his tone sounded breathless despite Exos not technically needing to breath. “Thoughts?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled out an agreement, “Yeah, this could work.”

Cayde shot you an amused look before pulling you into another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him and melted against his chest. 

Yeah, this could definitely work.

[sending-the-message]

Anglerfish by coffinstuffer

Coyotes will sometimes lure domestic dogs out into the woods by playing with them. A single coyote will approach the dog, ears forward, tail up, acting friendly as can be. It may even roll on its back and expose its belly in a show of submission, to draw the dog into a bout of mock wrestling. Gradually, the games will push farther and farther away from home. Deep into the forest. That’s when the rest of the pack appears. Clusters. The dog’s new friend becomes its executioner as the pack begins to attack.

It’s not uncommon for lonely children to bond with imaginary companions. They invent invisible friends to pass the hours away with. It is considered a typically harmless behavior, as long as the child understands the ultimate difference between fantasy and reality.

I’ve often wondered about the correlation between invisible childhood friends and later mental disturbance. I wonder what the statistics of suicides and disappearances might look like, when juxtaposed against the incidence of imaginary friends and what age someone stopped seeing them.

The first invisible friend I can remember was named Kevin. He was a little boy just like me, if not a few years older. We used to play together on the beaches of Lake Michigan. Building sand castles, collecting rocks and splashing around in the water.

Kevin liked to swim a lot more than I did. He’d dog-paddle out far into the water, giggling and urging me to join him. I tried a few times, but whenever I swam more than ten feet from the shore, my mother would call me back. Kev and I played together almost every week from my early childhood until I was nine and my family moved farther inland.

I didn’t even realize that Kevin wasn’t a corporeal person until years later. I made some offhand comment to my mother about my old lakeside companion. She seemed confused, and said there were never any other children when we went to the lake. I would laugh and talk to myself. But there was no Kevin. At least, not that she ever saw.

Hyenas can mimic human laughter. There is a lot of African folklore about evil spirits that can imitate the voices of loved ones to draw you away from the village.

These stories might have been fairy tales, but they served a very real purpose. The people who survived were the ones who didn’t follow strange sounds in the dark.

I met Polly a few weeks after my family moved into a new house, in an area with dense forests and narrow roads. Rural Michigan might as well be the Canadian tundra. We were farther north than Toronto. Though the summers were pleasant enough, the winters got bitter cold.

I don’t know for a fact that I was the only one who could see Polly, because she only ever came around when I was alone. But once or twice, she seemed to disappear into thin air, which makes me think she wasn’t made of flesh and blood.

Polly was… weird. She made me nervous from the second she walked out of the woods. Maybe it was her bare, dirt-covered feet, or her wide, glassy-eyes. Even at ten years old, I knew that other children weren’t supposed to just appear like that. She shouldn’t have been wandering around in the middle of nowhere without an adult.

She always wore the same thing. A faded, floral dress, with her straw-colored hair in two messy braids. She never offered any explanation of where she came from or where her family lived, beyond just pointing back into the woods. She said they didn’t live far. They had a cabin out there.

I didn’t believe her.

But I was bored. No other children lived within walking distance. So Polly and I would kick a soccer ball around, and climb trees, and play cowboys and pirates. She always wanted me to come to her house. She said she had a lot of fun games there, but I wasn’t allowed to leave the yard.

Polly was predictable, at least. She was always waiting for me after school, regardless of the weather. When it got too cold out, we played up in my attic. I was alarmed by her lack of boots or winter clothing at first. But she always just shrugged and said the temperature didn’t bother her. She did try to get me to come outside with her sometimes. She’d say I didn’t really need a coat either. She said that if you stayed in the snow long enough, you’d stop feeling it.

At the time, I wasn’t certain she was trying to harm me. She was confused, lonely, and desperate for a friend. But at the back of my mind, a nagging voice told me she didn’t have my best interests at heart. So I never did follow her out into the elements without proper protection.

Sirens are an ancient idea. Creatures that take the shape of gorgeous women, or whatever their prey would find most enticing. Creatures that sing so beautifully, they can bewitch any listener. Creatures that are such effective predators, their prey doesn’t notice the trap until their ship has been dashed to bits on the rocky shore and there’s blood in the water.

My family moved just a little outside Detroit when I was about thirteen. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of stories about what the city is like. What a ghost town it is. I’ve even heard it compared to a post-apocalyptic wasteland. But you have to understand, it was a pretty gradual descent from the 60’s until about 2000. In the early 90’s, it wasn’t in the terrible state it is now.

My parents and I moved into a relatively nice apartment complex. I went to the nearby middle school, and it was fine. I didn’t make friends very fast, but I also wasn’t scared for my life or anything.

Robert introduced himself a few days after we finished unpacking our boxes. He was fifteen. A tall, skinny black kid with a buzzed head and a thousand-watt smile. He said he lived down in one of the basement units, though I never saw it. His father drank a lot, and didn’t like company. We would sometimes hang out at my place, but it was kind of cramped, and my mother was usually home. So Robert and I spent a lot of time on the roof of the building.

It was terribly exciting. I remember the way my heart used to skip and flutter when we stole cigarettes from the corner store, or slipped a forty into our baggy jeans. On cool autumn nights, when Robert and I would lie back on a blanket and look at the stars, my skin would get inexplicably warm. I’d feel strange and fuzzy all over, and it was more than just the watery beer.

He talked to me a lot about how he wanted to be a pilot. He’d always dreamed of joining the Air Force. His dad said it was a stupid idea. They don’t let faggots in the army. I’d never heard that word before. Faggot. It felt heavy, and dirty, and also thrilling in the same way that everything about Robert was. When he cupped my face in his wide hands and pressed our lips together, it was like the hormonal floodgates burst open and I was suddenly hungry in ways I’d never experienced.

I started to suspect Robert was not real when I saw him fall nine stories into a dumpster below, and get up again without so much as a scratch on him. I decided to ignore all better judgment, because I wanted to keep kissing him.

We only lived in that Detroit apartment for about eight months. By the end, I was well and truly in love, and when Robert whispered that there was a way we could stay together–I almost listened. But I didn’t want to step off the roof. I was scared. I knew it would hurt. When I refused, Robert became despondent and disappeared. I didn’t see him at all the last three days I spent in that building.

Versions of skinwalkers and shape shifters appear in most cultures.

It’s a terrifying idea. Being hurt by something that looks like a friend. Danger that seems harmless. Wolves in sheep’s clothing.

I can’t help but wonder if something as old as humanity itself might be the thing these legends sprang from. Perhaps these stories are warnings of some primal memory. A creature that looks like a person, but absolutely isn’t.

After my parents split up, my mother and I went to Ohio. She had a sister there, just a short drive from Columbus. We all lived together in a trailer, along with my five-year-old cousin Becca.

I was sixteen by then, so I was often left to watch Becca after school and on weekends. I didn’t mind it too much. It wasn't like I had other friends. She’d fill in her coloring books while I did homework, then we’d go outside.

There was another little girl next door. Tess. She and Becca loved to run around together, racing up and down the dirt roads, playing tag. Whenever they’d go too far off, too close to the parkway for comfort, I’d call them back. Becca usually listened, but Tess always seemed reluctant. I didn’t think a whole lot of it.

One day, when I was a little too engrossed in reading a comic book and not watching the girls closely, I heard a shriek.

“Tess! Watch out!”

I looked up just in time to see a semi-truck blasting past, not even slowing down as it ran little Tess right over. My jaw dropped. Panic shot through me. Sure, she wasn’t my kid, and I hadn’t even been directly tasked with watching her, but this was still ostensibly my fault.

I was on my feet, ready to run to Mr. Callhun’s house to borrow his phone and call the police.

But Tess was still standing there. Completely unharmed. She skipped off the road, giggling and whispering into Becca’s ear. Becca still looked a bit shell shocked, but smiled and hugged Tess close.

My stomach twisted. It was terrible to see from the outside. One of those things trying to get my baby cousin.

When I got close enough, I grabbed Becca’s wrist and tugged her away. Tess eyed me. Cold and calculating. Unlike any of them had ever looked at me before.

Perhaps I’d gotten too old. The whimsical thinking of childhood had given way to suspicion and fear. Perhaps it could tell that I’d caught onto the game. Perhaps it was angry I could even still see it. Most people my age couldn’t.

“You leave Becca alone,” I said firm as my cracking pubescent voice could muster.

“Or what?” Tess smiled at me. I’d never noticed how sharp her canines were. How mean those overgrown, dirty fingernails looked. I hadn’t taken the time to get a really good look at her until that moment.

“I’ll hurt you.”

“Adam!” Becca began trying to struggle out of my grasp. Obviously embarrassed.

Tess had started to back away, still smiling. She probably knew I couldn’t do anything to her. But maybe I’d get someone who could. A priest or a rabbi or something.

“Becca.” I kneeled down to be at her eye level. “Look at me. Tess isn’t real, OK? Real people can’t get run over by a truck and live.”

“Let me go!” Becca wailed, pushing at my hand ineffectually, trying to squirm free.

“Becca. Please. It’s important. You can’t play by the road with Tess anymore. She wants to hurt you.”

Becca broke down into ugly tears. Face bright red. Windpipes constricting to form unholy shrieks. I sighed, picked her up and carried her back to the trailer. She cried herself out and fell asleep on the couch.

When her mother got home that night, I told her Becca was playing way too close to the road and wouldn’t listen when I said it was dangerous. I hoped that was enough to warrant keeping her inside for a while.

It wasn’t more than a few weeks before Becca stopped talking about Tess. When I asked, she said that Tess had gone away. I took comfort in the fact that I hadn’t seen her around either.

Anglerfish are grotesque creatures. Ugly, with long fangs and dull eyes. But in the depths of oceanic trenches, they can hide in the shadows. The only visible part of them is the glowing ball of light that sprouts from an antenna at the top of their head.

They advertise salvation, the only source of illumination in the pits of despair. But any creature that takes the bait meets a sticky end.

I still see them every now and then. Little old ladies begging for help across a busy street, right when the light is about to change. Pretty strangers at bars who are far too aggressive in urging me to have another drink. Lonely hitchhikers that ask to travel to places the GPS will never find. But don’t worry. They know the way.

I’m not sure what they are. I can’t be the only one who notices them. After all, most of us had the ability at one point. We just grew out of it. Perhaps we shed it as a survival mechanism.

Perhaps I’m one in a million. A kid who got stuck with a genetic allele that should have been bred out generations ago. Perhaps my existence is purposeful, and I’m a new evolution when it comes to defending ourselves against the strange and bitter unknown.

I can only say one thing for sure. Keep a close eye on your children when they start to tell you about their new invisible friend. Chances are, that friend is not friendly at all.

[theonewithglee-blog]

SAM EVANS is TWENTY-SIX years old and an ASPIRING MUSICIAN / MANAGER AT CENTRAL PERK. He is the older half-brother of MARLEY ROSE. He lives BY HIMSELF. He is currently SINGLE, and his endgame is BLAM.

Sam is based mostly on Phoebe Buffay, and partly Ross Geller.

“If you want to receive emails about my upcoming shows, please give me money so I can buy a computer.”

There are some sad parts of Sam’s life, but he rarely ever thinks about them in the super sad way. His biological mother died when was just a few months old. This means he never got to know her, and it’s a shame because his dad Dwight says she was really cool. But at the end of the day, it’s alright, because Sam views Millie Rose as his mother anyway. She’s the woman Dwight met when Sam was still a baby, eventually leading to Marley’s birth. Now, it’s simple: Millie is his mother and Marley is his sister. There’s no other way around it, and Sam’s life wouldn’t be the same without them. So, yeah, maybe he wasn’t so lucky to lose his birth mom. But he lucked out with two awesome ladies to call his family because of it. And Sam uses that as an excuse to view the world through rose-colored glasses. There’s always a silver lining, if you ask him.

That was important to keep in mind, considering the area they grew up in. It was tough out there. The family didn’t have a lot of money, and it got even worse when Sam and Marley were in their teens. Dwight lost his job and was constantly out searching for a new one while Millie worked all these odd jobs, and there were still times when they didn’t have a whole lot of food to put on the table. Sam, at sixteen, took it upon himself to help them make ends meet. He spent his nights working as a stripper and giving his parents everything he made under the guise of a super fast food restaurant position. Sam never told Marley the truth, but he’s pretty sure she knows. She's just smart like that. Regardless, no one ever said anything, and Sam is proud of his...unconventional methods of helping his family. It kept him from stealing and stuff, and that’s what really matters.

Sam has a lot of different interests, most that have been there since the beginning of time. They make up who he is. Since childhood, Sam’s loved a few things more than all others: comics, music, and animals. His parents always told him to do what he loved, so it made sense his future would be composed of these things. Somehow. He knew becoming a veterinarian would be pretty difficult, music seemed somewhat daunting, and comics were more of a hobby than anything. So when it came time to make big life decisions, Sam wasn’t sure what he wanted out of life. He ended up going to college anyway to try and figure it out. This is where he discovered his unending love of music and met two of the most important people in his life: Finn Hudson, his roommate, who would become his best friend from that moment on, and Rachel Berry, who Sam would very quickly fall in love with.

Sam and Rachel were together for a while, figuring out life together. Well, Sam thought they were figuring it out. Things started to fall apart when Rachel began to have doubts about who she was and what she wanted. It turned out that she didn’t quite know herself, so Sam couldn’t possibly know her either. Sam came to understand that, in his haste to have the perfect love he’d always wanted, they might have just done what they thought they should have, rather than what they truly wanted. As a result, they are broken up, and Sam has a nagging feeling in the back of his mind about why Rachel never wanted anything more out of their relationship. And on top of this, Sam has just learned he’s going to be a father. It’s brought him to a strange point in his life. He lives alone for the first time since their separation and they’re nailing down the details of the whole co-parenting thing. Sam is terrified, but partly excited.

Being so optimistic means that Sam can come off a bit odd and childish at times. He just wants to believe that there’s good in the world, no matter what life throws at him. He also has a lot going through his head and doesn’t often stop to think it through. This goes hand in hand with how straightforward he can be; he prefers to tell people the truth, rather than what they want to hear. So while he means well, he can seem very blunt. And like, okay, maybe he strongly believes in ghosts and sometimes swears there’s some sort of freaky supernatural stuff going on, but he can’t help it if he’s got a sixth sense. Thankfully, most people don’t hold his eccentricities against him, since he’s extremely good-natured. He has a kind heart and pure intentions, most of the time. As for where the rest of his life will bring him, Sam envisions a blossoming music career, and falling in love. Like, for good this time. He’s a hopeless romantic and knows he can’t rush the right thing. But as for now, he’s just gotta pay bills and help with baby costs.

I’ll be there for you…

BLAINE ANDERSON → Sam knew his sister had this super close best friend growing up, especially considering he was always hanging around. But he didn’t really know Blaine until they all got older. Now that Blaine is living with Marley, Sam has gotten a chance to actually get to know him, and he’s so glad he did. They’re so similar, yet different in the best ways. Blaine is super smart and acts as a voice of reason for Sam, but he’s also not afraid to be kind of goofy and nerd out with him. Sam can’t quite express what he loves about Blaine other than saying he’s really, really glad he met him. And he can totally see why his sister loves him so much.

RACHEL BERRY → Sam was a young and goofy college kid when he met the girl who he thought would become his wife. Instead, Rachel turned out to be his ex, and eventually the mother of his child, which is not at all how he expected things to go. Their relationship was great, but after a few years they started to lose their way. Rachel said she needed to find herself. Sam blamed the breakup on not knowing each other well enough. He thinks he was probably right; Sam’s smart in that having-a-sixth-sense kind of way, and something about the Rachel and Quinn situation has never felt totally innocent to him. But it doesn’t really matter, since they’re over now anyway. Things have only gotten more complicated by the news of Rachel’s pregnancy. While it’s all still sort of a big angsty mess, Sam accepts that it is what it is. He and Rachel are civil as they prepare to co-parent.

FINN HUDSON → Sam met Finn in college and instantly knew that they were going to be close. He just didn’t know that Finn would end up being his best friend. They did everything together, and then continued to be close even after college. Sam lived with Finn up until he moved in with Rachel. Now, even though things are different and Finn has a new roommate, it feels like they haven’t missed a beat. To this day, Finn is quite simply Sam’s best friend.

MARLEY ROSE → The reason Sam doesn’t often mull over the loss of his birth mother is, quite simply, the existence of Marley. She only came to be because a widowed Dwight Evans happened upon Millie Rose shortly after Sam’s birth, and now he can’t imagine life without his half-sister around. They’re incredibly close in age and had a tight bond growing up. Despite some typical sibling rivalry, they’re closer now than ever before. Sam honestly doesn’t know what he would do without Marley to help keep him in line.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE → Sam was already an established Central Perk employee by the time Sebastian joined the team. It took a while for Sebastian to come to respect Sam as his superior. And Sam gets it --- he doesn’t really give off the boss vibe. Eventually, Sam was able to get Sebastian to take him seriously, simply by getting him to understand that you can’t get away with acting like that in the real world. Sam is a firm believer in second chances and didn’t want to throw Sebastian out on his ass just for being not-so-friendly in the beginning, knowing everything he’d been going through. So far, Sebastian has been showing promise as a legitimate asset to the coffee shop. Sam just wouldn’t say they’re necessarily friends.

…‘cause you’re there for me too.

✗ Sam is currently TAKEN and played by ALEX (21, EST).