#(so mom asked what my plans are and i told her it really depended on the next few months)

[autumnoakes]

is there a way to explain to my "no excuse for laziness" family how executive dysfunction works? how autism and ADHD works? how they're not quirks or funny but often quite painful and distressing? (genuine questions)

i'm going to start crying if i have to talk with mom about my future one more time

(more of the rant in the tags. sorry)

[deerlino]

DENYING THE OBVIOUS

— “i'm not falling in love,” he says, while he's actually falling the hardest. minho's in such deep denial, it's like he's drowning in the nile.

words ༯ 0.8k / pairing ༯ lee minho x gn!reader / tags ༯ best friends to lovers (kinda), childhood friends, mutual pining, fluff, humor, teasing & banter, arcade games, unspoken feelings, slice of life / content warnings ༯ fluff and more fluff !

a/n ༯ eh, this one's not my top-notch work, had a few bumps and hiccups, but hey, it's alright. took me ages to write tho. 😭 wanted to really nail that denial part, but i guess it's decent enough. hope you still got a kick out of it ! <3

“I’m not falling in love,” he says.

You stare at Minho, half-smirking, half-annoyed. He’s sprawled out on your bed, flipping through one of your old comic books, pretending he’s way cooler than he actually is. His hair is a mess—he’s too lazy to even run a hand through it properly. You roll your eyes.

“Sure, Minho. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you say, tossing a pillow at his face. He barely dodges it, laughing. It’s that laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, but you refuse to admit it.

“Why would I be falling for you?” he teases, grinning. “You’re like... my best friend. And you’re a pain in the ass.”

You snort. “Right back at you, loser.”

He sits up, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “Let’s be real. If anyone’s falling, it’s definitely not me. I’m the epitome of self-control.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, right. You cried watching Toy Story 3.”

“Hey, that was emotional!” he protests, eyes wide in mock offense. “Andy grew up, okay? It’s relatable.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, shaking your head. You grab your phone and plop down beside him, scrolling through your messages. He leans over, way too close, trying to peek at your screen.

“Who’s texting you?” he asks, curious.

You nudge him away. “Nosy much? It’s just my mom.”

“Tell her I say hi,” he says, leaning back on his elbows.

You do, and your mom’s quick reply makes you giggle. “Tell Minho he’s still grounded for breaking my favorite vase last year.”

“Mom says you’re still grounded,” you say, showing him the message. He laughs again, this time falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach.

“Man, your mom’s got a long memory.”

“Yup,” you agree. “So, Mr. Epitome of Self-Control, what’s the plan for today?”

He sits up, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you know all too well. “Let’s go to the arcade. I bet I can beat your high score on Dance Dance Revolution.”

“You wish!” you exclaim, jumping up. “You couldn’t beat me if your life depended on it.”

As you both head out, the playful banter continues. At the arcade, it’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you, Minho, and the flashing lights of the game machines. You watch as he concentrates intensely on the dance mat, his tongue sticking out slightly. You can’t help but think he looks kinda cute like that. Not that you’d ever tell him.

“Ha! Beat that!” he shouts, pointing at his score. It’s higher than yours by a mere point. You roll your eyes.

“Beginner’s luck,” you mutter, stepping up to the mat. He watches you, that goofy grin still plastered on his face. You nail the moves, one by one, beating his score by a landslide.

“Told ya,” you say, smugly.

He pouts, crossing his arms. “Okay, okay. You win this time. But next time, you’re going down.”

As you both leave the arcade, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s a casual gesture, something he’s done a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels different. Warmer. More... significant.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asks, steering you towards the diner down the street. It’s your usual spot, a place that holds countless memories. As you slide into your favorite booth, Minho immediately starts teasing the waitress, who’s known you both since you were kids.

“Two milkshakes, please. Extra whipped cream for her because she’s extra,” he says, winking at you.

You stick your tongue out at him. “And fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

When the food arrives, you both dig in, talking about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable. But there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something unspoken.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, looking at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes.

You pause, a fry halfway to your mouth. “Sometimes. Why?”

He shrugs, looking away. “I dunno. Just wondering what it’ll be like. If we’ll still be... like this.”

“Like what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He fiddles with his straw, avoiding your gaze. “You know. Best friends. Hanging out all the time.”

“Of course,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He finally looks at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”

You both finish your food, and as you walk home, the silence between you is comfortable. His hand brushes against yours a few times, and each time, your heart skips a beat.

Back at your house, you sit on the porch, watching the stars. Minho leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking up at the sky.

“Thanks for tonight,” he says quietly.

You glance at him, surprised. “For what?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “Just... for being you.”

Your heart flutters, and you find yourself smiling. “Anytime, Minho. Anytime.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it’s as if the world stands still. Then he breaks the gaze, looking embarrassed.

“Okay, seriously, I’m not falling in love,” he insists again, more to himself than to you.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Keep telling yourself that, idiot.”

But as you both sit there, the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket, you know the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he does too.

© deerlino (est. 040624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[silentglassbreak]

hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme

friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.

going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay

feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺

Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst

Can You Feel My Heart

Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?

If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.

If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.

If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.

At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?

This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.

Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.

He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.

He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.

We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.

"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."

"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."

He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.

That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.

As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.

He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.

Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.

So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.

He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.

There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.

The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.

We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.

That's when the words left his mouth.

"We need to talk."

That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.

It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.

"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"

And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.

Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.

How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?

I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...

I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.

“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”

"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.

His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."

Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.

"You don't need to get up for another hour."

"Not if I want to shower."

He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."

"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Shut up. And get off me!"

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.

"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.

I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.

Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.

"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."

I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."

He scoffed. "Not a chance."

Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.

"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."

I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.

"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.

"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."

He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"

I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"

He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"

His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.

"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."

He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."

I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."

"So, why would you want to be so far away?"

"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."

He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."

I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."

There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.

"Oh no? And if I do?"

"You can't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"

He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."

Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"

He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."

"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"

His eyes popped open, then. "What?"

"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.

"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.

"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.

"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."

Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."

His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."

Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"

"What act?"

I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.

"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"

I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"

His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."

I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."

"I thought that's what we wanted."

Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."

He was silent, then.

"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."

I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?"

I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."

He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.

"I do love you!"

I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"

Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.

And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.

He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.

But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.

"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.

"You need to leave, Noah."

I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.

"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.

"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."

His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.

"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."

I let myself laugh at that.

"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."

7 Years Later

Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.

Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.

Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.

I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.

Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.

"You look so fine!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"

She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.

"So, Tyler isn't coming."

She frowned at me. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."

Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.

I liked him.

Right?

It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.

"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.

"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"

"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."

I nodded. "I've never heard them."

"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.

My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.

That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...

Bad Omens...they were the headliner.

Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.

I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...

“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”

My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?

I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.

Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?

Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.

“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”

I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?

“Long time ago.”

I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.

In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.

Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.

Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.

We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.

The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.

During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.

"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.

When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...

The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.

He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.

"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.

His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.

"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"

My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.

Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.

"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"

Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."

I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"

He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."

My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."

I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"

I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."

"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"

Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.

"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"

I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.

"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"

I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."

"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.

I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."

He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"

He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"

I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.

Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...

"Nick?"

His face turned back to me.

"How is he?"

I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.

"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."

"How so?"

Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?

"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."

I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."

He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."

I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?

"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"

Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.

I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."

This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"

I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"

She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"

Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?

"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."

I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.

"Damn it, alright, come here."

She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.

"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."

Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."

"Do you know anyone else in the band?"

I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.

"I may know the entire band."

Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.

"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"

I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."

She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."

Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.

We turned, ready to make our way back inside.

"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."

I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.

"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."

"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.

"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"

I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."

"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"

I was going to actually vomit at that.

"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."

She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."

I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.

I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.

I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.

"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."

My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."

My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."

She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"

I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."

She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.

Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?

I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?

Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.

He didn't take but a minute to respond.

Tyler: Having fun?

Ha, what a joke.

Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.

Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.

That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.

The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.

A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.

A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.

Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.

Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.

And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.

A voice I'd never forget.

"Can you hear me through the white noise?"

He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.

He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.

The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.

As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.

The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.

They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.

The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.

"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."

Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

Noah had changed...

The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.

The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?

"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...

The crowd erupted.

"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"

The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.

"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."

The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.

"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"

The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.

"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."

"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."

My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.

"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"

I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.

I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"

Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.

"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.

When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.

"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."

She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."

After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.

"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"

I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.

I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.

Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.

After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"

I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.

"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.

"Hang on! Wait!"

A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.

He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.

The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"

My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?

He thought he did, but now...

"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.

He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."

I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.

In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.

"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.

"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.

"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."

I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."

-

A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.

I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.

I couldn't do that again.

I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.

Who would be calling me at 2AM?

I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Hello?"

"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"

I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.

"Noah?" It barely came out.

"It's been a long time."

I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."

"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"

I sighed. "Nick told you?"

"He might've."

I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."

"Why?"

I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."

He hummed. "That's true."

I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.

"What did you think?"

"Of the show?"

"Mhm."

I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."

A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"

I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."

"In a bad way?"

"No. Not at all."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.

The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?

"Why did you call, Noah?"

I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."

"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."

My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."

"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."

My heart pounded. "What?"

"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."

"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"

I perused the idea. "When?"

"Now?"

I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."

"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."

This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?

"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."

"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"

I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.

My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?

It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.

I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!

I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.

I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.

Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...

Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.

I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.

"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.

"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.

I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."

He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.

"I had to."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."

I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.

"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."

"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."

I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.

To my chagrin, he was still there.

Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"

Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."

My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"

He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."

"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.

This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.

"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.

"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"

I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."

He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."

He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"

Oop. I wasn't expecting that.

"The second one. Villain, or something?"

He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"

I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"

"Mm, and which one was that?"

I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.

"Uh, I don't know the name."

He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"

"Am I wrong?"

He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.

I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."

He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."

"You still haven't said why."

"Why did you want to see me?"

My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"

"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.

He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"

I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.

"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."

I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"

"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."

There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.

In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"

He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.

"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"

He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'

"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"

He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.

"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"

My heart stopped, completely motionless.

"What?"

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."

I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.

"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"

My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.

"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."

This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.

"Noah, I had no idea-"

"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."

I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.

"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."

He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."

"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."

My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.

Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.

"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.

I couldn't take it.

I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.

His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.

My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.

Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.

His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.

"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"

I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."

His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"

I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.

I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.

"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."

His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"

Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.

"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"

I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."

My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."

Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.

"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."

He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.

I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.

"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.

"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.

My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.

My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.

"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"

My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.

"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."

My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.

"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."

Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.

"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."

He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.

I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.

We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.

"Hi." Was all I could manage.

He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."

-

After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.

He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.

However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.

"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."

"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."

And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.

I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?

But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.

Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.

When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?

Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.

Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)

I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.

Odd?

I resent it, getting the same response.

Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?

Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.

His number was the same, right?

I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.

So...what the hell?

My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.

"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atas

“Ash!!” I scream as I bolt upright in bed, turning to search for him, feeling with my hands until my eyes adjust to the darkness.

He’s not here.

A wave of dread courses through me like ice in my veins. Something is very wrong.

I reach for my phone and slide onto the floor, huddling in the tight space between my bed and the wall as I search for his name and press the call button with shaking hands. “Please answer. Please,” I whisper into the darkness.

There’s a short pause before I hear his voice, “Atlas?”

“Ash! Where are you?”

“I’m at home. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I- I don’t know,” I say, still disoriented, “You’re okay though?”

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

I let out a sigh of relief, and slowly my panic begins to fade, leaving a twinge of embarrassment in its wake. “Um, yeah, I think it was just a nightmare. Shit, I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s alright. D’you wanna stay up and talk for a bit?”

“Sure. You don’t mind?”

“Not at all. I’m having trouble sleeping too. I thought Iris was having her baby tonight.”

“What happened?” I close my eyes as he speaks, and imagine he’s here, sitting next to me.

“She called me and told me she was in labor, so I jumped up to rush out there, and as soon as I was about to get on the freeway, my mom called and told me it was just Braxton-Hicks and not to come over. Everything’s fine, but now I’m having trouble winding down.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. When is she due?”

“Not for another month, just before Winterfest.”

“Probably good she wasn’t really in labor then.”

“Yeah, best to let her cook a bit longer.”

I chuckle quietly, unsure what else to say but not wanting to hang up just yet.

We sit in silence for a moment before he asks, “Hey, are you going dancing with us for Lex’s birthday?”

“I’m planning on it. As long as they’re not going to be playing some Top 40 shit or something.”

He scoffs, “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit of a music snob?”

“I’m not a snob, I just know what I like.”

“Right,” he laughs, “Well, you’re in luck, I think it’s just a house night. Maybe a bit of techno or breaks thrown in depending on who’s spinning, but that’s about it.”

“That I can deal with.”

“Good. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah. Well, um, we should probably get some sleep.” As much as I’d like to stay on the phone with him all night, I feel guilty keeping him up.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Thank you for talking with me.”

“Of course, that’s what friends are for.” He says this as though it’s common, expected even, but in my experience it’s anything but. I can’t think of anyone in my whole life besides my sister that would be there for me like this without giving me shit or making me feel silly.

“Ash, I- I think you might be my best friend.”

“What you do you mean might be?”

“Okay, you definitely are,” I admit with a smile.

“Good. You’re mine too,” he says before clarifying, “You and Lex, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And Jasper.”

“Can’t forget Jasper.”

“Don’t worry, though, you’re my favorite.”

“Liar.”

He laughs, neither confirming nor denying it, and says, “G’night Atlas.”

“Good night, Ash.”

As I hang up the phone, I fall backwards against my bed and let out a sigh, frustrated that my nightmare has returned to haunt me, and wishing Ash were here. I think about the way I keep reaching for him when I wake up, always so certain he’s going to be there, sleeping next to me, ready to roll over and drape his body across mine and make the world feel right again.

“Why?” I ask the empty room, as if the darkness holds the secrets that will help me understand, but it gives me nothing. So, I lie there, eyes closed, listening for answers that will never come.

Prev // Next

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

short but chaotic Nimona headcanons

One time the boys were going through their baby pictures and laughing

And Nimona let it slip that she doesn’t have any baby pictures cause she was never a baby 

The boys being dramatic sappy dorks plan a whole day where they take stupid family photos 

And Bal being the most dramatic sentimental dork of all even goes as far as photoshopping Nimona into some of their old photos 

These photos were just supposed to be a cute little inside joke that they framed in their living room they never expected anyone to see them

But as time goes on and they make more friends people see those photos and draw their own conclusions 

And maybe Bal is incredible with Photoshop or maybe no one in the kingdom has critical thinking skills because people start to believe Bal and Ambrosius raised Nimona

There is a tw*tter thread of them commending Bal and Ambrosius for training to be knights and saving the day all while raising a child

Someone was talking to Nimona and congratulated her on being so brave

And Nimona was like “Oh you mean the battle with the director?” the person goes "Well yeah that too but I was also talking about your parent's split divorce can be so messy"

Most people know this is just a long drawn out joke that the trio doesn’t have the willpower to debunk

And some people are out here defending this story posting shit like “No a friend of a friend was at the institute at the same time and saw them with Nimona” 

The trio thinks it's fucking hilarious so they never bother to comment on it

In fact they didn't correct anyone until Nimona told the real story of Gloreth’s “Monster”

And they were really dragging their feet on telling people not because they were afraid of the backlash but because they knew the teen parent stories would stop 

Everyone is fully convinced that Ambrosius is the best secret keeper of all time 

He’s fucking not 

He’s a gossipy little bitch but the people who he gossips with are the real vaults 

Whenever he wants to gossip he'll talk to Nimona

And Nimona always drops his gossip onto Bal because he knows Bal will tell Ambrosius  

Bal usually doesn’t gossip but if Ambrosius asks him “What’s on your mind love?” more than once he’s an open book 

But the gossip never leaves their little trio no matter what 

Whenever the trio gets bored like on errand days or long car rides they’ll play a little game 

Basically they compare people they know to random objects or animals 

And they win depending on how accurate the object is or if it makes the other two laugh

Some of the accurate wins were Ambrosius pointing at a wet cat and commenting that it reminded him of Bal, Bal pointing at dog shit and saying “Look it’s Todd”, and Nimona asking “When did the director come back to life?” while pointing at flaming garbage 

And then there are the other answers like when Bal pointed at the air and said “Mom” Ambrosius just turns to him and goes “Bal you didn’t know your mom” and he just goes “Yeah that’s what she looks like in my mind” 

Or Ambrosius pointed at a cemetery and exclaimed “Mom!” And Bal goes “Love your Moms alive” and all he says is “Shh Bal let me manifest” 

[worriedvision]

Fatherly Headcanons: Wriothesley, Dr Ratio and Heizou.

So I've chucked in Heizou to this because I think the idea of that man having kids is hilarious and the other two are too serious in terms of thoughts lol! Mentions of pregnancy here, reader has biologically had the kids.

If you want one where the kids are adopted, please let me know! Heiziou calls reader 'mommy', but there's no actual kink stuff otherwise!

Wriothesley:

-When you had told him you were pregnant with your first child, you braced yourself for him dumping you on the spot or asking for you to get rid of the child.

-To your surprise, he held back his excitement when asking how long it was, your plans, everything. He wouldn't be able to leave the fortress, but he was already thinking of the best child-friendly room that your child could stay in.

-You decide to keep the child, to Wriothesley's excitement brimming as he twirls you around and kisses you.

-As a dad, he's not the dad who's strict. It's not that he doesn't want discipline - it's that he knows you'll be the one telling off the kids when they've really been rude.

-When the child is a baby, Wriothesley can't stop smiling as he looks at this child - so proud that he has a family despite his initial situation upon entering the palace.

-If your children don't listen to you, he'll warn them with a reminder that once they committed a crime worthy of sentencing, he would not be light on them.

Dr Ratio:

-news quickly spread when you had told your husband you were pregnant, to which he uncharacteristically smiled warmly as he pulled you in, holding your abdomen as he promises to be the best dad in the entire universe.

-definitely the dad that knows fine well that his child is not sick and is simply skiving off, to his child's dismay.

-similarly, he also knows when your child needs a break - which he happily calls the school to inform them he has been experiencing concerning symptoms.

-Changes when you show up with the packed lunch you prepared for him, your child with you.

-"Oh, I must have forgotten my lunch. My darling spouse, you really are the back bone of the family. And this little squirt must be happy to be part of your life, my darling." He pinches the cheeks of his child before standing back up, kissing you softly on the lips before patting your cheek. "Careful - if you aren't, we may have another on the way."

-He is his usual self with everyone else, in the way of dismissing them and wearing his constructed head when he deems it worthy.

Heizou:

-Basically like you're looking after him as well as the child.

-"Mommy, Mommy! What's for dinner!" He would exclaim, to his child's embarrassment.

-"Dad, give mom some time."

-Definitely the guy you didn't think wanted a family. When you told him you were pregnant, he surprised you - he told you that it was a sign, that you two were meant to be.

-As annoying as he was, essentially being like another child, he raked in the money with his job - moreso than usual.

-If he were to cook, there's a chance he would either nuke the entire meal or undercook it to the point you would get sick.

-If you were to have a second child, however, he would mature a bit more. Kujou Sara (a mutual friend) scolded him for being too childish after he ranted to her about you being too serious with the child (after you had cried in her arms about feeling like you were alone in the parenting process).

-After the second child, he begins to actually try - get you the snacks you're craving that he knew from the first pregnancy, take parental leave to keep your first child in check while you took some time to catch up with friends.

-He wobbled at first, but he's more responsible than most give him credit for. Depend on him - if you need more sleep, tell him and he will work his magic.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for talking shit about and leaving a friend with severe mental health issues?

(CW for mental health issues, self harm, and transphobia)

For context, everyone in this story is pretty young, in Year 11/12 (American equivalent would be sophomore/junior year) and we live in a pretty religious country

I (16M) met a friend (15F) through her approaching me and saying my pins (including a pride pin) was cool. We clicked immediately, i went over for sleepovers and became close with even her mom. I only once brought up politics offhandedly, and she got quite uncomfortable, but i thought nothing of it at the time.

She constantly told me that I was her only friend who "understood" her, and would be there for her, so I never brought it up again. However, when I was introducing her to another friend (who is very gnc and identified as transfemme at the time) we opened up her youtube reccomended and it was quite literally disgusting.

JK rowling, terf videos and tradwifes galore. Candace Owens, Ben Shapiro, you name it, she had literally nothing except videos titled shit like "trans people mutilate themselves".

I was very hurt, because I happen to be trans, as well as most of my friends and my partner. I questioned her, but she pulled the "mental illness" defense. I was scared of her hurting herself so i apologised (to my other friend) and tried distancing myself from her, admittedly made a few jokes at her expense to others.

She began being more radicalised, positing insane, borderline qanon stories, but my plan to cut her off was interrupted by her going missing and me having to be the one coaxing her back to school, i felt she was too dependant on me to be as harsh as i shouldve been.

The final straw came when she 1) said she thought of my (healed) scars as something that encouraged her to self harm and 2) when i found out she outed me and my partner as T4T and queer to a random transphobic youtuber to put in a cringe compilation. this was not only immature but really dangerous to us.

Heres where I might be TA: my partner confronted her because he was worried about my mental health, and she apparently showed up to school and cried. I felt bad, but when i first found about it i laughed about it, and didnt support her even when i knew she had no other friends.

My partner asked her to either stay away from me or not express her beliefs, and as a result she called me crying that night, borderline suicidal, and in a panic I soothed her and said I wasnt going anywhere. A couple days later, a mutual friend sent me the screenshots of her outing us, and I think that sort of made me snap.

She used her religion as a shield against finding us "disgusting" and wanted a video made against us etc etc, describing horrible statistics and threats, describing "mutilation" and I felt like i couldnt endorse that attitude towards trans people in good faith, so i argued with her over text, with her accusing me of manipulating her multiple times.

Again, I mightve fucked up here because I called my friends while texting her and talked shit about her during this confrontation, sending screenshots of our private dms to them, and afterwards she became a bit of an inside joke within our friend group- she also left the school because i think she had barely any other friends.

I cant help but feel like i shoudve been more mature about it, and especially because she was ill, i dont want to be That Guy that makes fun of vulnerable people, even if she sucked herself. So, tumblr, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[wordy-little-witch]

Pls im begging im on my knees what happens in crossguilds honeymoon shenanigans? - dis is pertaining to the CG wedding anser sjdjdjdjdns i love it btw the asker is so big brained and u made it even better sjdmsjxkz

OKAY so I'll divide it up between General Content and Adult Content.

General first!!!

• at first, they didn't even plan a honeymoon. It simply wasn't in the cards to then, they didn't even consider it. Then Big Mom asked, making conversation at the following party, what kind of honeymoon they had planned. They told her just an evening together in their tent, then back to work.

The men, women and enbies of the Guild swooped right in there with bright grins. "We pooled our wages together," they announce, "and booked you a trip!" It's for a weekend, just three days, and they'd be gone perhaps five at most depending on the weather and travel.

All three are trying not to cringe into the ether because they'd be leaving the island for a decent chunk of time. Who would run everything?

Their commanding officers then give them an itemized delegated list, with all the primary functions taken care of. The Guild really prepared for everything, huh?

• the honeymoon is to a resort not too terribly far for Karai Bari. The first thought is for them to just.... divide and do their own things.

Only they keep running into each other that first day. Buggy and Mihawk wind up in the library with other. Mihawk and Crocodile run into each other in the sauna. Buggy and Crocodile meet up in the casino. It's constant, and eventually it even becomes rather fun.

• then evening hits.

Adult Content below~

• Buggy's got the self awareness of a walrus on cocaine honestly, so he doesn't really think before stripping down to change into his evening wear. Crocodile and Mihawk at first ignore it until they catch sight of a pale back full of freckles and scars. Both dark haired me are suddenly fighting the urge to kiss him there, to make constellations with their touch and tongue. They look away.

• Only One Bed - Mihawk wordlessly prepares the couch for himself and Buggy makes a hammock and Crocodile is getting the bed - the first night at least.

• sleepy early mornings are so intimate and nobody discusses that enough. Buggy is the first up, hair slightly messy from the braid he slept in, curls framing his bare face. He makes coffee and starts on breakfast. Mihawk joins him not long after. Crocodile wakes to the smell of food, coffee, and murmured voices and laughter. When he inevitably wanders into the kitchen, halfasleep, he accepts a playe and mug, presses a kiss to Buggy's temple, a squeeze to Mihawk's wrist. Both clown and swordsman take a moment to process that.

• Buggy isn't exactly a contributer to Gender, so he'll wear whatever so long as he likes it. Including, it turns out, a form fitting dress in a rich green with gold accents and jewelry which shows his long leg via a high slit. He plays the part of ditzy eye candy well for Crocodile, and all seems fine - until some others begin to look at Buggy as well.

• Crocodile is possessive. And they ARE married.... so he pulls Buggy close by his hook at the other's waist and yanks the other down to one of his legs, within neck kissing range. Buggy is flustered. Crocodile is glowering. The wandering eyes ease off.

• at some point, Marines show up. The resort is neutral ground, so none of the Guild leaders make moves to react. Through a series of events, it turns out the Marines are there to apprehend the pirates and have paid off the resort owners.

There's a fight which goes.... fairly normally with Mihawk close range, sinking vessels and soldiers alike. Crocodile is lurking midrange to use his poisons and sand most effectively. Buggy has opted for more long range with his explosives and plots. The whole thing is pretty damn smooth, all considered. Until someone makes it past and grabs Buggy.

A comment is made on his outfit, a cocktail dress and blazer with matching stockings. On his decorum. On him, specifically. It's nothing he hasn't heard before, and he's already halfway through a snarky comeback along the lines of "What, angry I'm hotter than your whore at home-?" when there is a wave of pressure. Buggy blinks. The marine officer stumbles.

There is suddenly a hand on his waist, a hook around his neck, two presences flanking him. "What," the both nearly snarl, "did you say about our wife?"

• Buggy absolutely gets butterflies.

• the rest of the fight is pretty quick, Hawkeyes and Crocodile out of patience to play with their foes. Buggy isn't a slouch either, by the way, he's lobbing explosives strategically all around. Nearing the end, he herds his husband's to their ship, pushes off, and gives a theatrical count down.

• the island and nearby ships are bathed in fire. Buggy is cackling, a mess, his hair wild around a filthy, bloodied face. The dress reveals his shoulders. The torn edges reveal more of those freckles.

Something in both taller men snaps, and they converge upon Buggy with claims and lips and teeth. On the deck of their ornate ship, to the cracking ambience of fire, they have their wicked way with him, learning his body and finding unexpected but delightful facts as they go.

Crocodile could transition fully due to Iva, but Buggy is not so lucky. His top surgery was experimental, and bottom surgery was never a huge deal to him. Mihawk, luckily, enjoys all bodies and pleasures of the flesh, and he is a quick study under Crocodile's tutelage and experience with the organs he once had.

Buggy falls to pieces more than once, teary eyed and begging and so sweet for them, so cute and attractive with his grasping hands and hiccuping breaths. He is beautiful as he sinks down onto one, cradled by another and wails with the stimulation and hands and hook that break him I to pieces just to reassemble him again.

It ends with them together, indulgent and depraved, christened beneath firelight and debris and the screams of their enemies.

And none of the three had ever felt quite so seem as they did in that moment.

• back on Karai Bari, they sashay back in, mostly, as Buggy has a mild limp.

The lipstick stains and bite marks and bruises and scratches paint a clear enough picture for what happened.

"How was your trip?"

"We blew it up"

"Wha-"

"Fire. Explosives. Our beautiful chairman has quite the knack for such weapons"

"D'aww! Hawky, you'll make me blush!"

"We can make you do more than that, you little shit...~"

"Hehe~"

The poor mercenary is left rebooting.

[apomaro-mellow]

S1E07: Go Fish

S1E06

Jim was in the cereal aisle, pushing his cart around. He stopped in front of the chocolatey cereals and was pretending to look at them. He picked a box up and without missing a beat-

“I know when I’m being followed, Joyce. Whatever it is, just spit it out.”

She slid her cart next to his, looking a little sheepish. “I didn’t mean to stalk you in the store. I just didn’t need you turning tail when you saw me.”

“I wouldn’t ‘turn tail’. I’d walk away, like a man.”

“And this man is gearing up for a fishing trip this weekend with his son, right?”, Joyce asked.

“Yeah, me and Steve have plans for it. Why?”

“Well I was thinking… that you could bring a couple other guys. Like Will and Jonathan.”

“And just why would I do that?”

“Because they could use some male-bonding time”, Joyce said, looking very intently at the contents of her cart.

“See, the thing is, I was planning on having a little…talk, with Steve. Just me and him.”

“You can talk to my boys too.”

Jim cleared his throat. “It’s gonna be uh, well a sensitive topic.” He started pushing his cart in an attempt to leave the conversation.

Joyce kept pace with him. “I think Jonathan and Will could use that talk too.”

Jim stopped suddenly, then looked Joyce over. “I think we’re talking about different things.”

“I don’t think we are”, Joyce said.

“And why should I be the one to do it, huh?”

“You’re the one who decided they needed someone to teach them how to throw a ball or mow the lawn. So you can get this too.”

Jim hung his head. “....They bring their own poles.”

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

At 4:30 in the morning, Jim was already packing the car away. Steve was yawning as he leaned against the passenger door. Jonathan was carrying Will, fully dressed but still mostly asleep. Steve opened the back door so he could be put into the backseat.

“You and Hopper fish a lot?”, Jonathan asked.

“Only when he wants to talk”, Steve said. “Last time we went fishing he told me about us moving. This time I think he’s gonna tell us he’s getting married to your mom.”

“What?”, Jonathan hissed in a whisper.

“Why else would he bring you and Will along?”, Steve shrugged.

“They’re not getting married.”

Steve grinned. “Wanna bet?”

“I thought you learned not to bet against me?”

“Saddle up, boys. We gotta get there before the fish wake up”, Hopper said as he got in behind the wheel.

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

Hours later, El’s Saturday morning cartoon marathon was interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door.

“Good morning!”, Dustin, Lucas, Max, and Mike greeted.

“Good morning”, El waved. “Were we supposed to meet up today?”

“Your dad and your older brother are both out of the house all day. Of course we’re hanging!”, Dustin exclaimed while letting himself in.

“We brought some movies and some games”, Lucas added.

“This is okay, right El?”, Mike asked.

“Y-yeah it’s okay. Totally.”

Max gave her a knowing look before making herself comfortable on the couch. Lucas took out a deck of Uno cards and began to shuffle.

“As the reigning champion, I’ll deal”, he said.

“Since when are you reigning champion?”, Mike questioned.

“Since I beat you back in second grade and you never recovered.”

“That’s BS you never beat me!”

“Well how’s about a friendly game to settle it?”, Lucas suggested as he dealt everyone a hand.

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

The waters of the lake were calm and mostly still. In the boat, Jim and Will sat on one side, while Steve and Jonathan sat on the other.

“Look at us”, Jim said, trying to keep any nerves from his smile. “Just a bunch of men, earnin’ their meals today.”

Jonathan was the only one to respond. “Heh, yeah.”

“Your dad ever take you boys fishing?”, Jim asked.

Will shook his head as Jonathan spoke up. “He took me hunting, a couple of times. I didn’t really…enjoy it.”

“Well fishing’s different from hunting. For one thing, you can just shoot the breeze with your fellow fishermen while waiting for something to bite.”

“Does it take a long time?”, Will asked.

“Depends. We could be out here for hours and catch nothin’. You just never know.” Jim rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat. “But uh, speaking of catching, or uh”, he shifted it gaze to Steve. “Pitching? Or you know, whatever you’re about. Um-”, he cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you boys about something.”

“Here it comes”, Steve said. 

“Are you really marrying my mom?”, Jonathan blurted out at the same time Will asked, “Are you mad about the baseball game?”

Jim looked between all three of them. “Marry-what?! The game?? And what do you mean ‘here it comes’?”

“Every time you take me fishing, you’ve got some big news, or you wanna talk about something serious”, Steve said.

“We’ve been out fishing like, twice”, Jim said.

“But it’s true, right?”, Jonathan said. “You have something important to talk about? Is it about our mom?”

“I’m not getting married to Joyce.” Then Jim put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “And I’m not upset about the game. We raised a good amount of money and you kids played your heart out.”

Steve’s eyebrow raised. “Then why are we out here at the ass crack of dawn?”

“Watch your language. And we’re here because…” Jim got fidgety as he tried to lay it down gently. “I’ve noticed-well I guess Joyce has too, I wanted to talk to just Steve but if our suspicions are correct, you two boys need this talk too.”

“Um, if this is the talk I’m thinking about, my dad already had it with me”, Jonathan said, eyes shifty.

Steve raised a hand. “Yeah, same here. It’s a little late for the two of us, but maybe Will?”

“I-I don’t need that talk!”, Will said quickly. “I heard high school has a really good health teacher so, yeah.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of talk. This one’s a bit more…specific.”

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

“This is exactly what happened last time”, Lucas beamed.

“Shut up!”, Mike shouted.

All five of them had cards in their hands. Lucas was down to two while Mike had about a dozen in his hand.

Lucas kept going. “I was about to win, while you were stuck with all these cards.”

“How’s this for ‘about to win’? Draw four!”, Mike slammed it down like the card had wronged him personally.

“....This means war Wheeler.”

“Did any of you guys see this epic game?”, El asked Max and Dustin.

“Nope”, Dustin replied, placing down a card when it was his turn. “It happened before I moved here, which means it happened before Max moved here.”

“I’m starting to think it didn’t happen or neither of them won”, Max said. She then grinned at Mike. “Draw two, you goober.”

“You’re the worst”, Mike complained.

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

Silence lulled over the boat. Jonathan’s head was in his hands and Steve had his arms crossed. Will was gripping his pole like a lifeline. Jim released a breath.

“Feel free to, you know, say anything.”

Steve pinched at the bridge of his nose before leaning forward. “What are we supposed to say? Besides ‘you’re dead wrong’? Or ‘you have no idea what you’re talking about’?”

“I know a thing or two about it.”

“Then let’s focus on you being dead wrong”, Steve said. “We’re not-”, he quickly looked around the lake but there was no one else on the water but them. “We’re not queers”, he said a bit more quietly.

Jim sighed. “Steve…”

“I’m sorry, our MOM asked you to talk to us about this?”, Jonathan finally looked up from his hands.

“Joyce has noticed some things. And so have I”, Jim said.

“I don’t know what you think you’ve noticed, but you’re wrong”, Steve said.

Will was very quiet, but Jim’s eyes still went to him, trying to gauge his expression. It reminded him of a scared, cornered animal.

“Look, gay or not, we just wanted you to know…well that we know.”

“And what? You’re gonna kick me out? Or send me to boot camp?”, Steve got up suddenly and jostled the boat.

“Watch it”, Jim said in a warning tone. “No one’s doing any of that.”

“Steve”, Jonathan grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back down. “I think he’s trying to tell us that he’s okay with it.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s ‘okay with it’ when it’s not true!”

“Even if you’re not gay, you might have a friend that is”, Jonathan said. “And if you ever bring that friend around, it’s nice to know Hopper won’t just toss ‘em out, right?”

Steve settled, and for a moment, he thought about Robin. Then he looked to Will, who still hadn’t said a word.

“Yeah…okay, fine. It’s…nice to know that, I guess. But where do you get off just assuming I’m gay? I’ve literally gone out with half the girls in this town.”

“Two words”, Jim said as his line began to go taut. “Eddie Munson.”

Steve sputtered while Jim began to reel in something. He was still trying to explain himself when Will’s line did the same and he started to reel in a fish.

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

“This is inconceivable”, Mike said as he looked down at the stack of cards.

“Well, conceive it”, Max said as she placed down her last card.

“That’s two wins for me, three for El, and a whopping five wins for Max!”, Dustin announced with great exuberance.

“How is this even possible?”, Lucas lamented.

“Maybe we were just lucky”, El offered.

“Or maybe you two have never played against anyone with actual skill”, Max said just as the front door opened.

“Welcome back! Did you guys catch dinner?”, El asked.

“Fried fish is on the menu”, Jim said while patting the top of her head. He took the cooler full of fish into the kitchen.

“So how was manly-man fishing time?”, El asked Steve when he came in, carrying the poles.

“It was…enlightening.”

S1E08

[nolanfa-fanart]

Funny batfam gen (non-romantic) recs

last rec list was not exactly happy fics, so to offset it, have funny ones:

Gen fic recs for @genuaryficrecs! Fandom: DC, batfam. Focus: Humour (most some also tear your heart out or engage in subtle character building, but you'll laugh while you cry) Humour is very widespread in fic (…in some fandoms at least), ranging from humour woven in the writing style itself, to situational absurd (crack), to making the reader laugh about absolutely horrifying shit (while still acknowledging how awful it is; which is something I feel I've only ever read in fic), to absolutely unhinged character reactions (to more I don't have in mind right now), so here, a small homage to that.

The Lone Ranger Never Had to Deal with Bruce Wayne, by @theskeptileptic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51476074) Chapters 6/6, 25.522 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne

Type of gen relationship: uh. Concerned Adult to Kid? Parental-ish? Or just neighbours, depending on who you ask.

Official summary: Tim is an independent, clever, and super mature eleven-year-old. Unfortunately, his dopey neighbor, Bruce, can’t seem to understand that. When he decides to disappear on a “solo camping trip” and run away to Canada, he figures it’s the perfect plan that will make everybody happy. He didn’t expect the Waynes would tag along with him and ruin everything. A six-chaptered tale filled with identity shenanigans, s’mores, soon-to-be-brothers, and a kid who is in desperate need of a new family.

Why I love it: This is. Hilarious. The perfect mix of very competent Tim and him still very much being an 11-years-old. Himbo Bruce Wayne who just so happens to totally accidentally run into Tim several times to innocently inquire about his parents' whereabouts. The horrifying fact of what Tim is actually doing and how he thinks, in his very logical way (and the horrifying fact that his parents agree with him).

Excerpts: from: thenanny8725@aol.com to: bwayne@we.com Mr. Wayne, Timothy told me you stopped by earlier today. I am sorry I didn’t get to talk with you. My thyroid was acting up and I was sleeping. Timothy is a good kid. I can make sure he’s safe skateboarding so there is no need to worry. Have a good day! Sincerely, The Nanny

from: bwayne@we.com to: thenanny8725@aol.com The Nanny, Thank you for your email last week. Timothy is most definitely a good kid. One of the best. I saw him at the Army Supply Store this afternoon and he mentioned you would be taking him to Cheesequake State Park to meet a friend this weekend? My boys and I are heading that way, so why don’t we save you a trip. We’ll make sure Timothy is taken care of. If you need anything at all, for any reason, please call me at this number: 9088780078. This is my cell phone and I answer it at all hours, no matter what. Nothing is too small or too much of a bother to pick up for. Anything that you need, Timothy’s Nanny, please call. Sincerely, Bruce Wayne - “Anyway, I was on my way to the course, and I realized your father and I haven’t gotten a chance to really ‘hang’, as you kids say, and I had a late tee time, so I thought I’d invite him along.” Mr. Wayne’s teeth were bright and Tim wondered if he used some sort of diamond paste on them. He looked around Tim’s shoulder, as if he wanted to see inside the mansion better. Tim hadn’t turned on any of the lights on account of his shitty night, so the early fall haze that Bristol was so well known for didn’t do much for his visibility. “I’m sorry, sir, you just missed him.” A pause. “Well, that’s ok, son. Why don’t you get your mom and I’ll give her a message? I’m sure you’ve got things to do.” He looked at Tim vapidly, smile still firmly in place. “I’m afraid she’s not here right now either. Shopping.” Tim gritted his teeth and went to close the door. Mr. Wayne’s huge ham hands (why were they so large?) stopped it before it slammed. He chuckled and Tim winced. “Your nanny, then.” Tim wasn’t sure, but thought the question sounded more strained than Mr. Wayne’s usual flavor of airheadedness. “She’s sleeping.” “At eleven in the morning?” “She has a thyroid problem. I’ll let them all know you stopped by.” Tim pushed the door closed but Mr. Wayne had somehow entered his foyer while he was speaking. “I’ll write them a note. They can call me when they get back.” He inched closer towards Tim, who sidestepped him before he could ruffle his hair.

--

Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map, by @ebjameston (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38048365) Chapters: 9/9, 51.863 words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Type of gen relationship: siblings and friends

Official summary: CPS Agent, pointing at Tim Drake: We need to take him with us Red Hood: He's fine where he is CPS: He's a minor Hood: Timbo, you a minor? Tim: Can't prove it CPS: I mean, I can. There are records – Tim, who has just finishing hacking CPS to remove his own file: Oh really, tell me more about these records +++ A CPS agent gets sent to investigate a tip that Tim Drake has been abandoned by his parents and is living with the Red Hood. The CPS agent leaves with no Tim Drake, a date with Red Hood's lieutenant, and an intern who's promising to fix the IT systems at his office. It's a weird day for Theo.

Why I love it: This is probably the first (non-crossover) DC fic I read, and to date still one of my favorites. It's. Listen. It's from the point of view of a Child Protective Services agent. Who, given his whole deal is to Protect Children, has Opinions about the Robins. And interacts - unknowingly - with them when they're grown (identity porn! Banter!). And he likes them! And they like him! But they have… differing opinions. And I absolutely love it. So. Many. Feels. And humour. It's 80% jokes and 70% feels and 50% social commentary about the canon and 20% plot and 40% fluff and 30% angst and some parts are all of that at once.

Excerpt: “Nightwing, wait, serious question,” Theo says. “About when you were baby Robin.” Max’s fingers tense up a bit on Theo’s elbow, and some of the earlier tension creeps back into Nightwing’s frame. “Yes?” “Did the Batmobile have a car seat?” “Did the what have a what ,” Nightwing says. “I’ve seen your stats from when you were just getting started,” Theo says. “You weren’t anywhere close to 4-foot-9. You would’ve needed a booster seat for at least the first two years you were Robin, so.” “So, did the Batmobile have a carseat,” Nightwing repeats faintly. Theo gets out his phone to take notes. “Yes. That is what I am asking.” “Buddy,” Hood says. “Most of the Batmobiles don’t even have seatbelts.” “How would you even know that?” Bernard asks.

--

IRIS Log #1548, by @deadchannelradio (https://archiveofourown.org/works/51647209) Chapters: 1/1, 8531 Words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: whole batfam

Type of gen relationship: familial

Official summary: A Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle: The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. - (01:25) Red Hood: (Mild static) (Out of breath, slurred) You motherfuckers. Put some fuckin- (01:25) Batman: (Shaking) Red Hood- (01:25) Red Hood: Shut up. Put some fucking respect. On my name. Start fucking copying me. I just got thrown fucking. Um. 40 feet. Into a fucking uh. What's it. Ditch. I'm still fucking conscious. (01:25) Batman: Red Hood, do not move, we're en route- (01:25) Red Hood: What'll I win if I stand up. (01:25) Batman: (Loud) Do not stand up.

Why I love it: The format (transcription of comms) is fun. Also it's. Just. Really funny? The… energy of it? I mean just read the excerpts honestly.

Excerpt: (01:34) Nightwing: Don’t get mad, Red. He’s got a concussion. (01:34) Red Hood: (Agreeably) I am all bonked up. (Laughter: Nightwing) Hey. Cass. Cassie. Is my leg fucked. The right one. (01:34) Blackbat: It. (Pause, 3 seconds) (Reading) I am not your medical provider and can’t diagnose injuries or illness. Please ask your doctor when you are under their care. (01:34) Red Hood: Oh. Um, okay. Can you tell me as buddies? Not as my doctor. (Laughter: Spoiler, Red Robin) Just as buddies. (01:35) Blackbat: …Super busted. Bad. As buddies. (01:35) Batman: Blackbat. We are not medical- (01:35) Red Hood: She said as buddies. It’s fine. (01:35) Spoiler: (Laughing) The as buddies legal loophole.

--

Bang, bang, by Ididloveyou_once (@ididloveyou) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/30246978) Chapters: 1/1, 5.563 words T, Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (an accidental gunshot wound played for laughs)

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd

Type of gen relationship: very much Siblings

Official summary: ‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’ Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then- ‘Don’t tell Bruce.’Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.

Why I love it: Hmmm okay so maybe I really like a good Jason & Tim relationship. But objectively. This is great. Peak siblings relationships. The threat of Getting In Trouble forcing an emergency alliance between two mutually annoyed siblings who scramble to hide something? Peak comedy.

Excerpt: ‘Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that either,’ he pinched the bridge of his nose, ‘I just mean. Don’t worry about me being in pain. I’m fine. And don’t worry about looking like an asshole. You shot me, you already look like an asshole. But that’s fine because now we’re even.’ Jason sighed at the kid’s sour expression. So his words of reassurance needed some work, sue him.

--

Into the Brighter Night, by @shoalsea (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935463) Chapters: 12/12, 162,894 words G, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Tim Drake, whole batfam, Young Justice team

Type of gen relationship: familial and friends

Official summary: When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.

Why I love it: Oooooh not just batfam this time. Tim is way too competent, and the Young Justice have his back (and a lot of resentment towards the batfam). Hyperactive Young Justice energy, Very Good Characterization, miscommunication (as in Bruce -the whole batfam really- is trying but they're super bad at clearly expressing feelings). And the tone of it? The writing? Hilarious and rips your heart out. This is super interesting interconnected character dynamics (with the batfam and Tim's team that's so many more different relationships than usual) and a deep look at canon events, all of it wrapped in hilarious dialogue. One of my fave Tim-centric fics, and I've read some very good ones.

Excerpt: [Impulse on a long distance call with the batfam - minus Tim] Jay makes a disbelieving sound. “You’re telling me that Red Robin—Mr. Responsibility himself—helped you hide and maintain a secret spaceship for years? Seriously?” “Uh, yeah? Duh?” “No offense,” Duke says, “but that doesn’t really sound like the guy we know.” Bruce sighs. Stephanie huffs out a laugh. Impulse just looks unimpressed. “Are we talking about the same person? Robin numero tres, currently Red? The same guy who once hid an extra Batmobile in the batarang budget and shipped it to California in secret? The same guy who founded Young Justice, an unauthorized vigilante group of teens that started out with no adult supervision? And lied to the Justice League and the government to keep Secret safe?” “Secret?” Duke says at the same time Jay sputters out, “He stole a whole Batmobile?” “More like embezzled,” Impulse says. “But yeah, dude, it’s Rob. I know he gives off the straight-and-narrow vibe, like, 90% of the time he’s interacting with the public or authority figures, but that’s mostly because it’s way, waaaay easier to get away with stuff if you don't ‘openly project an air of defiance.’” “Oh my god,” Stephanie says. “He’s given you that speech too?” “He’s given us multiple versions of that speech,” Impulse says. Stephanie’s turned away from the screen now and is explaining to Duke, “Red Robin is kind of the definition of ‘I do what I want,’ but most of the time what he wants to do is at least nominally reasonable or responsible, so no one cares.” “And when somebody does care,” Impulse says, “you just gotta be sneaky and smart. Comply until their backs are turned, you know? I mean, even with the Titans we—what?” he pauses, spinning his chair, clearly distracted by something off-screen. “No, I’m just talking to the Bats. I think there’s a whole flock of them.” Conner Kent wanders into view, towelling off his hair and wearing what looks like some kind of maintenance jumper. “‘Sup,” he says to the camera, leaning in. “Superman’s not there, is he?” “Nope,” Impulse says. “Thank god. Where’s Rob?” “Batnap.” Conner puts his hands on his hips. “Dude. Weren’t you supposed to wake him up?” Impulse spins in his chair again. “Wonder Girl said not to.” “What, and he agreed?” “No. He might have been unconscious at the time. Which, technically, means Wonder Girl is in charge.” Conner groans. “He’s gonna kill you.” Turning to the camera, he adds, “Look, sorry about this, I’ll go get him.” “Heynowaitaminute,” Impulse says. “Listen. I’m the captain, you gotta at least hear me out!” Conner rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move. “Everything is still going according to plan, okay? Rob did in fact say that we should one hundred percent wake him up as soon as we could get a call through. True. But Wonder Girl said to let him sleep. And he definitely needs it.” “Yeah, but, again, he’s gonna be pissed if—” “Listen. I have thought this through.” When Conner just looks skeptical, he adds, “I have! I worked it out logically. See, if we wake up Rob, Wondy’s gonna be pissed off. At us. Right now. If we don’t wake him up, he’s gonna be pissed off later and he’s gonna be mad at her, not us. Therefore, we should do what Wonder Girl says.”

--

Beef Consommé, by @vamillepudding (https://archiveofourown.org/works/42348438) Chapters: 2/2; 14.230 words T, Chose Not To Use Warnings

Main Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson

Type of gen relationship: siblings

Official summary: Parenting is Bruce's thing, and Jason isn't planning on messing with that. But when Bruce fails to spot the countless red flags about Tim's home life, it falls to Jason to step up. Of course it does. Because he's literally the only one in his family who knows how to be responsible, and if Dick disagrees, he can suck it.

Why I love it: I have a weakness for the "Dick and Jason team up and adopt Tim" trope. Also, I love Jason's voice in it. (and this fic is very funny but I feel like I'm repeating myself)

Excerpts: “Pizza?” Tim repeats, sounding hopeful. Jason is on the verge of telling him to go screw himself, but then he starts wondering how long Tim has been in his apartment and whether he ate dinner before he came here. Probably not. Did he eat lunch? Should Jason ask? What would Dick do? “Fine,” he says eventually. “But I’m picking the toppings, and you can’t have dessert.” There’s a beat. “I didn’t want dessert,” Tim says, voice taking on a bewildered edge. “What are you talking about?” - It’s Wednesday evening and Jason is getting pizza. Dick’s waiting back in Jason’s apartment, because growing up with Bruce has him used to getting waited on hand and foot, and apparently he thinks Jason is his own personal servant or something. It’s oppression, is what it is. “It’s not oppression,” Dick yells after him just before Jason closes the door, “it’s called losing a coin toss, asshole!”

--

Birds on Jaybird Street, by @cynassa (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39115587) Chapters: 4/4, 14.717 words T, No Archive Warnings Apply

Main Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Type of gen relationship: Siblings

Official summary: Jason is both annoyed and weirdly flattered when the replacement turns up to ask him for help. He mentally rearranges his calendar so he can be free Wednesday evening and says, “No, fuck off, I have very important business going on.” Tim eyes his 72” TV playing Japanese wrestling more judgmentally than it really deserves. “Important crime things,” Jason emphasizes. “Make Wingdick do it.” Jason doesn't think much of it when Tim needs his help, or Damian moves in, or even when Dick turns up looking beat all to hell. But at some point he realizes that he might be the best option his brothers have to recover from the cycle of violence that Batman has set up, and all he can think is that things were much easier when he was the villain.

Why I love it: In which Dick and Jason decide to adopt Tim and Damian (Jason's kind of an asshole, but a caring one). Kind of the same reason as the previous one: love that trope, love the tone, very funny.

Excerpt: Jason lies, "Sure, I'll take it up with Bruce " "Sure you will, " Tim scoffs. Jason changes his mind, and decides he will take it up with Bruce. "I don't have the time to keep being your nanny," he announces and then says, disapprovingly, "you skateboard, why don't you have knee and elbow pads?" "I'm Robin," Tim snaps, like he didn't put pants on the costume like a little wuss.

[galvanizedfriend]

Any chance for a snippet for the next chapter Yokan? Or any idea when the next chapter is is going to come out ♥️ I’m re reading the Wolf 3 right now and am nearing the end of the updated chapters lol 😭

Hii, friend! ❤️ I can't promise when the next chapter will come because this is turning out to be a monster. 🥲 I'm at about 80% now, and have been making decent progress, but editing this is going to be🙃 So I hope to have it finished soon, but I don't know when. But since you asked, I can give you a little snippet. 😁 This is a scene I had been working on earlier today, Kol and Eve having a 1x1. Don't know if that's the kind of thing you wanted from this chapter, but I was actually having some fun writing this. 😂 Bear in my mind that I have not edited anything, so this could all change. But I hope you enjoy it. 🥲

From TW4x03: "Hello," he greets her, only half her face visible from where she's hiding - quite poorly, mind you - behind the kitchen door. Eve blinks up at him, but stays remains quiet. "Cat eat your tongue?"

She abandons her cover, stepping fully into the kitchen now, all pink pajamas and pigtails.

She is... Big. Kol is definitely not used to following humans' growth spurts from up-close. It's perfectly normal, he supposes, but it still comes as a bit of an irrational shock to see how she went from a little baby to this fully formed mini-person. A mini-Niklaus, nonetheless. Though with none of the malice and aggression and the annoying hubris ingrained into every line of Niklaus' body after a thousand years of living in pure rage. That aside, the similarity is uncanny. It's easy to forget there was once a sweet boy somewhere before the moody tyrant took over.

"My mom says I shouldn't talk to strangers," she tells him as though reciting words she's heard countless times before.

"Ouch. Out for blood, are you?" he retorts flatly. Her wariness doesn't bother him as it seemed to bother Niklaus earlier. In Kol's experience, it's smart to remain watchful around this family. "I'm not a stranger, though. I'm your coolest uncle. My name is -"

"Kol," she finishes for him. "I know."

He smiles. "See? You do know who your coolest uncle is."

"I don't really remember you, though."

A frown appears on her little brow, as though she's straining to remember, sweeping through her admittedly short tapestry of memories after any moments the two of them might have shared. The fact that he knows she won't find any does cause a bit of a pang, he must admit.

Kol doubts he would've spent much time around his niece anyway, seeing as he was always trying to free himself of his family's clutches, but the reasons why he didn't are still a sore spot. Niklaus didn't even trust him enough to tell him about his daughter at first. And when he finally did, Kol ended up murdered by another one of his brothers before he could even be properly introduced to Eve.

"Yes, well. A sore shame if you ask me. I'm rather delightful," he remarks, detracting from the bitterness. "Isn't it a bit past your bed time anyway? Are you up to no good, by any chance?"

"What are you going to do if I am?"

Kol coughs up a laugh at her unexpected show of defiance. "That depends," he bargains. "Are you planning on putting a frog under your uncle Elijah's pillow?"

Eve giggles. "No."

"Filling Rebekah's pillowcase with flour?" More giggles. "Oh, I know! You're going to spread spicy pepper on your father's toothbrush."

That gets a full-out belly-laugh from her, blue eyes twinkling with delight at the thought of playing pranks on her family. Kol likes her more and more by the second.

"That's mean!" she exclaims in-between waves of laughter.

"You say that because you haven't seen his face. Then it's just hilarious. But if anyone asks, I never told you that." He punctuates it with a wink.

[differenteagletragedy]

how do you think cove would have reacted the moment mc told him they had a crush on his dad or mom at some point like

I can imagine him trying to keep it cool and going "oh, okay" but it really depends on which step it is cause i fwel like little kid cove would be like "ewww my dad is old" or something.

Like i wish there was like a scene in game where you can just tell cove about that and you can see his reaction because them briefly mentioning it in the baxter dlc feels like a tease tbh.

Well the thing is that I was replaying Step 1 some last night got to the part where Cove asks you what your favorite flower is, and I didn't realize it but I picked a different one and MC says something about how it's their mom's favorite flower, and Cove goes "that makes sense, it's pretty like her and you." I don't remember the exact phrasing, but he definitely calls one of MC's moms pretty and he did it first, so he can deal with you talking about his hot parents.

I love how you can name all the parents in the scene with Baxter, but I also love how at the end of Step 2 when Derek asks you if you like any boys you can be like "Cove's dad" and he's like "Haha, they didn't understand what I meant," like yes I did understand you Derek and I meant what I said.

-- Step 1 Cove would judge you and not be afraid to tell you about it.

You: My favorite flower is peonies, my mom likes them.

Cove: That makes sense, they're pretty like her and you.

You: (in awkward 8-year-old) Thanks, you're dad is pretty too.

Cove: Why would you ever say that to me.

-- That's the only way I imagine it coming up in Step 1, because 8-year-olds just say stuff lol, but in Step 2 when Kyra comes, MC has the choice to think that she's very pretty too.

You: Both of your parents are so pretty.

Cove: I ... what ... don't ... huh?

-- Step 2 Cove can't handle life and he certainly can't handle that. He's going to be giving you that side-eye for the foreseeable future. He might even get mad, but he can't stay mad at you for too long!

-- Really this is the only option for Step 2 Cove, he would just feel so awkward and embarrassed and want to crawl in a hole and die. But if he has a crush on you, he might one day be able to work up enough nerve to be like "Some people have said I look like my mom ..." and then you stare at you trying to make you understand that that means he wants you to think he's pretty too.

-- Step 3 Cove and beyond would laugh I think. He's more comfortable with his parents and more comfortable with himself. But that also means that he'd tease you about it/threaten to tell them.

Cove while you're planning your wedding: My dad is going to be wearing a tux, do you think you can contain yourself?

You: *endless suffering*

[say-al0e]

Bad Day

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Rooster knew that wedding planning wouldn’t be fun. He didn’t take into account how difficult it would prove when family got involved. 

Warnings: Abusive parents (no details, but implied), parental mental disorders (again, no details, but mentioned), bad/nonexistent relationship with family, Rooster reflecting on his family.

Pairing: Rooster x fem!Reader (I think can technically be read as gender neutral but, just in case, tagging as fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.3k

Top Gun Taglist | Requests are open!

The sound of slamming doors was not one often heard in your shared home. The few times it happened, it was an accident or the subject of a quick apology. Most of the time, when either you or Bradley arrived home, it was to the sound of music or idle chatter as someone spoke on the phone. Others, it was silence, though that depended on how the day had gone.

When Bradley arrived home to a flurry of movement and noise, he knew that whatever it was was bad. He assumed it was work related, as it so often seemed to be lately, and stood quietly as he watched you storm around the kitchen. Your anger would ebb, or boil over enough for you share your feelings sooner or later, he just had to wait it out.

His entrance was quiet and went unnoticed. You were too caught up in the emotions roiling in the pit of your stomach to feel the weight of his gaze as he took the time to observe you. Little had changed about the kitchen since he’d left for work - a pile of wedding magazines your mother sent were scattered across the counter, a few samples of card stock you’d picked up for invitations remained in a heap, and the notepad you’d been using to keep track of it all had a flurry of ink smeared across it - and he began to wonder if that had more to do with your mood than work.

The pair of you had yet to set a wedding date - his schedule was a little more set these days, since returning to Top Gun as an instructor, but there was never really any guarantee when planning something so far out - but he knew the planning wasn’t exactly your favorite thing.

Still, he was surprised when you finally turned and met his eyes. Yours, while usually so bright and full of life, were rimmed red and clearly exhausted. It had been a rough day, that much he could tell, but he knew he needed to wait for you to start the conversation.

With little hesitance, you shook your head. “All of this shit looks the same,” you huffed, voice breaking slightly as you gestured to the pile of magazines. You could feel your bottom lip begin to tremble as you scrunched your nose in an effort to stop the tears stinging the backs of your eyes from materializing. “And it’s all so fucking expensive, for just one day.”

To his credit, Bradley managed to keep a straight face. He knew you. He knew that it was uncharacteristic for you to get so worked up - just last week, you’d said the same thing, only it was accompanied by a laugh and a half-hearted plan to just elope in Vegas - and he did little to hide his frown as he stepped a little closer.

This wasn’t about the cost of the wedding or the similarity of the items and he knew that. So, he asked, “What happened, honey?”

With a sigh, you folded your arms over your chest and shook your head. “My mom called. She wanted to know what color palette we were hoping to use and if I’d given bridesmaids any thought. If I hadn’t, she was going to suggest my cousins. Then, she asked about the place settings and flowers and dinner. There’s so fucking much involved in planning a fucking wedding and it all just looks the same and she keeps asking, even though I’ve told her I’ve got it a thousand times.”

When you announced your engagement - well, when your mother noticed the ring you wore and stopped long enough to ask - she threw herself in headfirst. The constant conversations, more communication than you’d had in years, was taking its toll on you. That, in and of itself, was of no surprise to him. In fact, he’d seen it coming, even if he’d hoped he was wrong.

Still, Bradley knew that your relationship with your family was tenuous, at best.

The beginning of your relationship was slow, a little cautious, and the topic of family was avoided for as long as either of you could stand. He wasn’t sure how to bring up his parents and neither were you. However, your story came a little later than his.

Nearly a year into your relationship, you explained why you were so reluctant to tell him about your past.

If Bradley said any of it was a surprise, he would’ve been lying. He’d figured it out - as much as he could without being given specifics - but it wasn’t any easier to hear when you finally told him. Your mother, while physically present, was distant and difficult. She’d been married a half dozen times and each relationship seemed worse than the last. There was a myriad of mental illnesses and other concerns, none of which she sought help for, and Bradley was stunned at how little she seemed to care for you.

While hearing about your relationship with her was tough, your relationship with your father was worse. It was practically nonexistent and for good reason. You’d spared him the details but he understood why you cut him out of your life.

As difficult as it was, growing into adulthood without his parents - whom he loved beyond words - Bradley knew he was lucky to have had the parents he did. They loved one another fiercely and him even more. While he would give anything just to see them one more time, he was able to understand that not everyone was so fortunate. His heart ached that you were one of the unlucky ones, especially because, given the circumstances, you’d grown into one of the best people he’d ever met.

Since announcing your engagement, he’d been able to see what an interaction with your mother did to you - what she was like, how difficult she could be. This, however, felt different. So, he waited a beat and ventured a step further into the kitchen before asking, “What else happened?”

Bradley watched as you swallowed, blinked a little too fast to hide the emotion, and leaned back against the counter. For a moment, you chewed the inside of your cheek as you willed yourself not to cry. “My mom gave the other person responsible for my existence my phone number.”

That was the thing he’d been afraid of. While Bradley - and everyone else who knew the story of your father - understood why you cut him out of your life, your mother refused to see reason. It was only a matter of time before she did something like this but, still, he’d hoped this day would never come. “Shit.” He sighed, the sound quiet, as he leaned against the counter beside you and tipped his head to glance at you. “Did he call?”

“Mm.” You heaved a heavy sigh but kept your eyes on the tile floor instead of glancing at him. You knew that if you did, the tears would start and you would be rendered speechless. “I didn’t answer the first time for obvious reasons, but he annoyed my mom so much that she guilt tripped me into answering. She called after he did, well, four times while I was on the phone with him, and I snapped at her because he was a fucking dick, as per usual. Now, she’s pissed at me and he said he’d call back in a few days.”

There was little Bradley could say that would help - he knew that this wasn’t the moment for practical solutions or encouragement - so, he remained quiet and allowed you space to release everything you were feeling.

“I just…” With a harsh exhale, you shook your head and lifted a hand to wipe your eyes. “He calls and he asks what the weather’s like here, how I like my new job, if I like California better than Virginia, what you’re like. He’s pieced together my life from other people and he asks me these questions like he knows anything about me, like he’s entitled to know anything about me. All the while, he completely glosses over the fact that I spent the majority of my teens and early twenties completely afraid of other people because of him. He glosses over the fact that I hate every memory of my childhood, what memories I do have, because of him. He glosses over the fact that even though I know people love me, I still question it because of all the times he told me no one ever would. He glosses over the pain he caused because he feels entitled to a relationship and I know he’s only doing it because his time is almost up and he doesn’t want to die alone.”

Bradley remained quiet, gaze soft and so fucking heartbroken that you couldn’t stand to look at him as you shook your head. He stood still by your side, completely aware that you would want physical comfort but only after you’d gotten what you wanted to say out.

“That’s such a shitty thing to say and to feel, I know, and I hate it. But… Fuck, he asked when the wedding is and when he should be here, what color tie he needs to walk me down the aisle. He talked about not being able to walk very far anymore but said he’d do it, just to get me there, and it’s all such fucking bullshit! I don’t care if he really wants to make amends. It’s been years. He destroyed my life and he doesn’t get to do this shit, just because the end is near. I want an apology. I want an acknowledgment that he hurt me, physically and mentally, and then I want him to fuck off. I don’t want a relationship. He’s not invited to this wedding and I’ll be damned if my mom guilts me into having him or brings him herself. I don’t want either of them here, honestly. I love you and I’m so excited to be your wife. I just don’t want the best day of my life to be spent afraid of my fucking parents.”

When silence settled over the house, disturbed only by your uneven breathing, Bradley closed the distance he’d left between you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest, pressed as close as he could get you, and sighed as you wrapped your arms around his waist and gripped the t-shirt he wore. 

The way you shook in his arms made his heart break. He’d been toying with the idea of offering to elope since asking you to marry him - neither of you cared that much about the wedding itself; his parents had a small wedding, limited to their closest friends and family, and that was what you’d both wanted. Now that he knew the headache an actual wedding would entail, Bradley knew what needed to be done.

“Forget the wedding.” Bradley felt you tense, if only for a moment, before you lifted your head to glance at him. There was a confusion there, a little bit of hurt, and he was quick to shake his head. “Forget the actual wedding. Let’s just elope.”

“Bradley.”

Bradley moved his hands to cup your cheeks, touch soft as he brushed his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m serious, honey,” he declared, eyes searching yours. “No day is worth feeling like this. All I want is to be your husband. We can have a party later, invite our friends. The wedding can just be us, though. No fancy clothes, no stupid place settings, no monogramed napkins, no one to ruin the day. We can take a road trip, go to Vegas and get married by Elvis. All that matters is that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together.”

There was a moment of silence, a beat in which the weight of the world seemed to melt from your shoulders, before you frowned. “What about Mav, Penny, the others?”

“They can come, if they want,” Bradley offered, shrugging slightly, though you knew how important it was to him that Maverick and the others were a part of the day. “If you want them there. But we’re the only ones who have to be there."

“I want them there,” you assured him, “if they want to come, I’d love for them to be there.” The entire group had become as much of a family to you as they were to Bradley and you could’t imagine your wedding day without them. 

Bradley nodded, pleased with the outcome of the conversation, before he smiled. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“Marrying my best friend in Vegas, I hope.”

With a laugh, Bradley returned his arms to your shoulders and pulled you into another embrace. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” He ducked his head, just enough to press his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss, before he pressed his forehead to yours. “You wanna call Phoenix while I call Mav and Hangman, rally the troops?”

“I love you a lot, Bradshaw. You know that, right?”

“I sure hope so. It’d make this whole thing kinda awkward if you didn’t,” he teased, grinning when you rolled your eyes fondly. 

Moments like that, little things that Bradley did to make you smile when you felt your worst, made you realize that if you only got one thing right, it was choosing Bradley. 

In the end, he was right. The wedding itself didn’t matter. No place settings, monogrammed napkins, or fancy outfits were were important enough for either of you to lose sleep over. The only thing that mattered was that you loved one another and wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. The people that mattered would be there - physically and in spirit - and, at the end of the day, you were just happy to have fallen in love with someone who loved you back just as much.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: The next fic I write will be light, I swear. Anyway, this won’t be everyone’s thing and that’s fine. I kinda want to write the elopement now, though. Anyway. Happy Monday.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles​, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth​, @withakindheartx​, @ssprayberrythings​, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath​, @alexparkxr​, @hangmandruigandmav​, @alexxavicry​, @calicokel, @jaymum​, @dracosluvbot​

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

From Hell to Home To Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

@emen-98

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chrissy frowned as she walked to class. She didn't mean to make Dustin feel so bad, but he shouldn't have left home like that. What if something had happened to him? She had told him she didn't want to lose another brother, but maybe that was too far. He just wanted to go look for his friend. Was she turning into her birth mother?

"No," Steve said.

When did she get to Nancy's locker? She blinked at Steve.

"What?"

"No, you are not turning into your mother," Steve said. "I know that look. What happened?"

"I got into a fight with my brother last night for sneaking out," Chrissy said.

"Oh, I thought you and your mom knew he was at my house," Nancy said. "I have no idea what they were doing in the basement."

"Planning to look for Will probably," Chrissy said. "I told him I didn't want to lose another brother and he looked so guilty."

"He knows you love him, and that's something your mother would never say. Think Wilbur," Steve said and touched Chrissy's nose.

"You know about Wilbur?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, of course," Steve said. "I think it's cute."

"Me too," Nancy said, looking at him fondly.

Chrissy smiled at the pair of them. They were so cute. Meanwhile, Barb was rolling her eyes. Chrissy nudged her, and she grinned. She leaned next to Barb and raised her eyebrow questioningly. Barb shook her head. She wasn't ready to talk. Chrissy bumped her shoulder playfully, and Barb smiled. She let her eyes drift for a moment as Steve and Nancy did their little dance. Chrissy's eyes landed on a locker all the way across the hall. Leaning against the locker was a long-legged girl in a corduroy baseball cap, talking to none other than Eddie Munson. Eddie. Chrissy bit her lip. She hadn't talked to him since the Talent Show. It wasn't that she didn't want to. It was just that life kind of got in the way, and she spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to figure out her new life under a new roof with a new name and family. Before she knew it, time got away from her.

Now, here she was, and suddenly, the memory of that night came flooding back. He was still as cute as she remembered, cuter even. His hair was longer and very curly. He wore a vest now with pins and patches that look put on by himself. His shirt was a faded Led Zeppelin shirt. The same white one that she had. Chrissy was kind of surprised that it wasn't a heavy metal band like Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, or Judas Priest. She vaguely recalled him playing some Black Sabbath at the Talent Show. It was the only time she listened to heavy metal. She supposed he could also like rock music too. Chrissy herself didn't have a particular taste in music, mostly listening to what sounded good to her ears at the time. It generally depended on her mood. She smiled at the shirt, wondering what else they had in common and what else they didn't. A familiar feeling tugged at her stomach. Uh oh.

Chrissy sighed. She recognized that feeling. It was the same feeling she got when she first started crushing on Heather. They hadn't dated long but long enough to know that Chrissy definitely also liked women. Luckily, they ended on good terms. She should really stop watching him before he noticed, but she was mesmerized by the gesturing of his hands and the grin on his face. Oh my God, he has dimples. Suddenly, she felt someone push her.

"Why are you staring at Eddie Munson?" Barb asked and then said with a teasing grin, "It's rude to stare, you know."

"I wasn't!" Chrissy exclaimed, blushing.

"Oh my god! Are you crushing on him?" Barb asked.

Just then, the bell rang, and Chrissy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, look, saved by the bell," Chrissy grinned gratefully.

"Oh, by the way, we've been invited to a party at Steve's house," Barb said.

"But it's a Tuesday," Chrissy said in confusion as they walked to class.

"That's what Nancy said. Apparently, it's going to be low-key," Barb muttered. "Whatever that means."

"It means just us, Steve, Tommy, and Carol," Chrissy said. "His parties are always low-key."

"So, he doesn't throw ragers?" She asked.

"He goes to ragers. He doesn't throw them," Chrissy replied.

"Seriously?" Barb asked and rolled her eyes.

"It's going to be fun even if Tommy and Carol are going to be there," Chrissy said.

"It'd be better without Steve too," Barb muttered.

"Barb!"

"Oh, God, look," Carol said.

Jonathan was putting up missing posters of Will.

"Oh God, that's depressing," Steve said.

"Poor Jonathan," Chrissy agreed with Steve.

"Should we say something?" Nancy asked.

"I don't think he speaks," Carol said, and Chrissy glared at her.

"How much do you want to bet he killed him?" Tommy laughed.

"Shut up," Steve and Chrissy said as Nancy walked away.

"Steve, why the fuck are you still friends with these assholes?" Chrissy asked.

"Because he'd have no one else," Carol laughed.

Chrissy could tell by the look on Steve’s face that this wasn't the first time that they said something like this. Steve tried to laugh it off, but even Barb could tell it bothered him.

"He's got Chrissy," Barb scowled.

"Oooh," Tommy said and laughed with Carol.

Somehow, Chrissy managed to get through the day even though Will entered her thoughts every so often, and even Eddie filtered in there. She made sure the kids made it to Mike's before biking over to Benny's to make up for missing yesterday. However, when she got there, police cars were out in front. She dropped her bike. Chrissy was quick and managed to dodge the cops' arms as they made to grab her. She burst into the diner and gasped at the sight of Benny lying dead at a table with a gun in his hand as though he had killed himself.

"Benny!"

Suddenly, Hopper was standing in front of her, blocking her view.

"Kid, you shouldn't be seeing this," Hopper said gently.

"He didn't kill himself!" Chrissy sobbed. "He couldn't have. He was supposed to go out with my mom this weekend. He wouldn't do that!"

"He finally asked out Claudia?" Hopper asked.

"Yes! Oh God, mom. What am I supposed to tell her?" Chrissy cried. "He's not - He's not dead."

Hopper pulled Chrissy against him and let her cry in his arms.

"Hey, you guys handle this for a moment. I'm going to take her home," Hopper said.

Her mom had been just as much of a mess as Chrissy had been when Hopper told her the news. He stayed for as long as he could, but eventually, he had to go back to the diner. Mother and daughter both cried until they fell asleep curled up on the couch. They didn't wake up until there came a knocking on the door. That's when Chrissy remembered the party. Fuck.

"Oh, I just remembered. I forgot to call and tell Barb. She's supposed to pick me up for the assembly," Chrissy said.

"Oh, go, Honey," Claudia said.

"Are you sure, mom?" Chrissy asked.

"You need to be with friends. Besides, I need to call Sue," Claudia said. "And I have Mews with me. I'll be okay."

Chrissy looked at her doubtfully for a moment before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Her blue sweater clung to her nicely, going great with her blue jeans. She shook her hair out of its ponytail and shrugged on her white denim vest as she walked out the door.

"Are you okay?" Barb asked as she slid into the car.

"Yeah," Chrissy said and looked at how excited Nancy looked. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Barb asked.

"Yeah, just a shitty day at work," Chrissy said.

"Rude customers?" Nancy asked.

"Something like that," Chrissy replied. "Robin didn't want to come?"

"Of course, Robin didn't want to come," Nancy said. "She's too good for parties."

Chrissy couldn't help but snort at that. As much as Robin and Nancy fight, like sisters sometimes do, she also knows that they really love each other. She was surprised that Robin didn't come along to make sure Nancy stayed out of trouble with claims of invading Nancy's privacy. It was amusing to watch Nancy force Barb to pull over three blocks away from Steve's house, too afraid of what the neighbors might think.

"This is so stupid," Barb said. "I'm just going to drop you off."

"Calm down, Barb," Nancy said. "Come on, you promised that you'd go. You're coming. We're going to have a great time, aren't we, Chrissy?"

"Absolutely," Chrissy said, plastering a fake smile on her face.

"He just wants to get into your pants," Barb said and Chrissy sighed.

"No, he doesn't," Nancy said.

"Nance seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren't home. Come on, you are not this stupid," Barb said.

"Barb! I've told you that Steve isn't like that. He really likes Nancy," Chrissy frowned.

"Tommy and H. and Carol are going to be there," Nancy said.

"Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade," Barb said. "It'll probably just be, like a big orgy."

"Okay, I don't even like Tommy and Carol but even I know that's a stupid untrue rumor," Chrissy said. "Seriously, Barb, I did not take you for a gossip. It sounds like someone's turning into their mother!"

"I am not! You take that back!" Barb exclaimed and Chrissy laughed.

"Look, Nancy's a big girl and she's smart too. She's going to do whatever she wants tonight and it's going to be her choice because Steve respects that," Chrissy said. "I love you, Barb, but you need to chill the fuck out. I need to have fun tonight and so does Nancy. You need to let your hair down, just a little bit but you don't have to do anything you don't want too either. We're all making our own choices tonight because tomorrow we could be dead."

"Thank you, Chrissy," Nancy said as she changed her sweater. "Although, the last part was a little morbid, Chris."

"Is that a new bra?" Barb asked.

"No," Nancy said, lying.

"Nance, you left the tag on!" Chrissy laughed and pulled it off.

"Oops."

When Steve opened the door, "Raise a Little Hell" by Trooper was playing in the background.

"Hello, ladies," Steve grinned.

"Hey, Steve," Chrissy said, actually ready to forget about the day she had. It's not like it could get any worse, could it?

Chrissy chugged the beer until it was completely gone and let out a loud burp. Carol and Barb looked at her in disgust while Tommy laughed with Steve.

"Oh, that's ladylike," Carol scoffed.

"I never said I was a lady," Chrissy said flipping her off. "You're further from being a lady than I am, Perkins."

Chrissy collapsed in the empty lawn chair with a grin. Not even Carol could get to her in this moment. She watched in amusement as Steve stabbed a hole in the beer with a knife and drank from it. He was clearly trying to impress Nancy. Chrissy couldn't help but giggle as Nancy pulled it off. Then Nancy tried to get Barb to do it. Chrissy rolled her eyes.

"Nothing she doesn't want to do, remember, Nance?" Chrissy asked.

"Right, of course," Nancy said.

"But you do need to stop pouting," Chrissy giggled and kissed Barb's cheek.

Right, beer makes her cross some boundaries. She looked apologetically at Barb who just shrugged and laughed it off.

"Didn't know you were a lesbian, Cunningham," Tommy cackled. "But that makes sense."

"It's Henderson, asshole, and I'm not a lesbian but thank you for thinking that I am one," Chrissy laughed as she pictured holding his head under water.

"I can do it," Barb said suddenly. "Give me the knife and the beer."

"Are you sure, Barb?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

With a look of determined look, Barb attempted to cut a hole in the can but instead, ended up cutting her hand open. She quickly rushed off to the bathroom, letting Chrissy know that she could find it by herself. She frowned as Barb walked away but her attention was pulled away when Tommy tossed Carol in the pool before Steve did the same with Nancy.

"Fuck it," Chrissy said before stripping down to her bra and panties.

Tommy, Steve, and Carol all wolf whistled as Chrissy dove into the water. In that moment, Chrissy was free of what happened today, and nothing could get to her. Although, she ended up getting out of the pool early when Carol kept giving her "fuck me" eyes. Yeah, she hated Carol too much to do that. . .as attractive as she found her. She dried her underwear as much as she could in Steve's bathroom before getting dressed and going to search for Barb. She found Nancy standing on the stairs looking down at Barb.

"Where are you going?" Barb asked Nancy.

"Nowhere. Just upstairs to change. I fell into the pool," Nancy grinned. "Why don't you just go ahead and go home? I'll get a ride or something."

"Nance - ," Barb started to say.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"This isn't you," Barb said.

"I'm fine. Just go ahead and go home. Take Chrissy," Nancy said.

Barb stormed out of the house. Chrissy grabbed Nancy's arm.

"You're going to be safe, right?" She asked. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm not - ," Nancy started to say, and Chrissy gave her a look. "I'm on birth control. You're not going to stop me?"

"Why would I? Is this something you really want to do?" Chrissy asked. "Do you like Steve?"

"Yes," Nancy said.

"Well, I already know what you're like when you make up your mind," Chrissy said. "I expect all the juicy details. Have fun. Oh, by the way. . .Steve is a heavy sleeper, so if he falls asleep after, you're going to have to slap the shit out of him to wake him up. If that doesn't work, yank very hard on his hair."

"Noted," Nancy giggled.

Chrissy wandered outside to find Barb sitting out by the pool. She was sitting on the diving board. Her feet and wrapped up hand were dangling over the water. Chrissy's heart went out to her because she looked so sad and she didn't know why. She walked over and stood by the diving board.

"Do you want to leave?" Chrissy asked.

"I want to wait," Barb said softly.

"You know what she's doing up there," Chrissy said softly.

"Making the biggest mistake of her life," Barb said. "Nancy wouldn't do this. They haven't known each other long, and suddenly, she wants to jump into bed with him like she's got something to prove."

"That's your version of her, Barb," Chrissy said. "Did you ever think that maybe she really likes Steve?"

"It's always been us against the world even when you became our friend, nothing changed, but then she started to look at Steve and I just - ," Barb cut herself off.

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"Why can't she look at me like that?" Barb asked.

"Oh, Barb," Chrissy said softly.

"She never showed an interest in boys, not really, and I thought maybe she was like me too," Barb said.

"Well, you know, just because she likes boy doesn't mean that it can't change, and it doesn't mean that you're not alone," Chrissy paused. "I never had a boyfriend before, but I do like boys. However, that doesn't mean I never had a relationship."

"You had a girlfriend?" Barb asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah, can't tell you who it was because it would mean outing her, and that would be a no-no," Chrissy said.

"Do you think Nancy might be like you?" Barb asked.

"I don't know, but it's not up to us to talk to her. Right now, everything she's experiencing needs to be her decision. She needs to explore her sexuality herself, and she doesn't need us telling her who we think she is," Chrissy said.

"What am I supposed to do?" Barb asked. "It's not like I want to hate Steve or feel like this - "

"You're just jealous. We need to support her, and in the meantime, we can hang out, so you rant and rage all you want to me until you find yourself getting a little better each day," Chrissy said.

"How do you know how to deal with this?" Barb asked.

"A lot of therapy after I got adopted and then when I was hanging out with. . .my ex, I started to realize that I like women, and I kind of freaked out. My ex had this this older cousin who walked in on us, and we both freaked out, but she sat down to talk to both of us. She really helped, and if you ever want to talk to her, I still have her number," Chrissy said. "She's a huge ally."

Barb stared thoughtfully into the water for a while, and Chrissy was pleased that she looked a little less sad.

"Thanks for being my friend, Chrissy," Barb said.

"Always," Chrissy said.

Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her, and she looked up. Chrissy opened her mouth to scream, and then she was pushed into the water with Barb, being dragged down with her as the bottom of the pool opened up. It was strange, she thought. Before she fell into the water, did she hear Argyle scream her name?

Chapter Three

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting my partner to spend the holidays with his family?

So trigger warning for death/grief. I'm not sure if this is extremely straightforward in who is in the wrong here, it at least doesn't feel obvious to me.

My (24NB) mother (55F) passed away last week. She had struggled previously with cancer and liver failure but was seemingly doing well until a blood infection caused her to be hospitalized. She was expected to recover, but passed rather suddenly after a week in hospital.

She and I were incredibly close. We talked on the phone most days. The passing has been very difficult for me. Especially with it being so close to Christmas, I'm dreading the holidays. My mom was always the one who made Christmas special for my family.

Now, my partner (23M) loves Christmas and comes from a big family that is very close-knit. We've been together for a little over a year, and currently live together. Neither of us drive, but most of his family live 45 minutes from us. This makes visiting with them difficult as we're dependent on who can drive us and that usually means we have to stay much longer than we would with my family. As a result, he spent Thanksgiving with my family (Canadian Thanksgiving happening prior to my mom passing). This caused a total meltdown from his family, who saw this as me asking him to disrespect them. He ended up having to lie about being sick and missing both Thanksgivings.

Now that Christmas is approaching, I had already asked that we spend Christmas morning with my family if his family planned on being out of town just for ease. He agreed that would be easier, and the following year we could go with his family. This of course changed when my mom passed. Instead, my family planned on having a quiet Christmas together. I expected that he would still attend, especially since I'm expecting it to be hard on me.

His cousin (30sF) phoned the other day. They first talked about the hospital my mom passed in and how they had lost some of my moms belongings (the cousin works at the hospital and wanted to help us). I listened in to provide additional info for him to relay. At the end of that conversation, she brought up Christmas and said the plan was for herself and a few others to spend the entirety of Christmas Eve out of town with his family, and then leave Christmas morning following presents. He didn't argue, just gave a vague response along the lines of 'we'll see' which led to his cousin telling him it would be 'very unfair' of me to prevent him from spending Christmas with his family because I see him all the time and "it's only 24 hours". At the end, she added a quick "Your mom would really appreciate it!" Which hurt my feelings to hear, but I knew it wasn't intended that way.

The whole talk made me really upset, and I had to excuse myself to cry. After talking it through with a close friend, they suggested I bring it up to my partner just so he could understand that its difficult for me to think about Christmas for the time being. I did exactly that, and my partner got very upset with me. He told me that his cousin didn't intend it that way. He also told me that it was unfair that I already expected him to spend Christmas with my family, and that I was 'forcing' him to be a part of my family and taking him from his own.

It was never my intention to make him feel as though he couldn't spend time with his family, and I don't think I've ever said anything like that but I don't know how my words and actions have come across. I want him around for support during this first year without my mom, but I don't want him to feel that I'm forcing him into missing his own holidays. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[imagineredwood]

What happened with you and your best friend?? If you don't mind me asking? You seemed so upbeat and happy when you had said you were enjoying time with them and even though I was sad you weren't as active anymore, I was happy that at least you were happy and were living life if that makes sense. IDK it just makes me sad to read that you're not friends anymore :( You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I just feel for you

Essentially, I was replaced 🙃 We were glued at the hip, always together, spent time together as much as possible at work and as well as outside of work, two peas in a pod type thing. There was a lot of flirting and jokey verbal advances type talk that we just kept at bay but it did admittedly become a bit of a...homoerotic friendship with some dependency. And we had early plans for my birthday where we were going to hang the whole day that she more or less ghosted me for until like 4pm. And we had planned it for months, with her doing a great deal of the planning and telling me that she was going to do this and that and hyping the whole thing up telling me how she was going to spoil me....just to leave me hanging 🫠 when she finally answered she was just like oh well we can do it next weekend? And

And then come to find out it was basically all because she had gotten a new friend that also had kids and also drank a lot and I guess having a fellow mom as a bestie was better since they could have the kids together all the time as opposed to her having to find childcare when we hung out. So even though we were there for each other and shared some major life changes and events/family deaths...just for me to be traded in. And the day of my birthday when she ghosted me, it was because she was blackout drunk after partying all night with that other girl and didn’t wake up until then. But lied to me and said her phone died so her alarm didn’t wake her up. I didn’t find out the truth that she had been with that other girl until a mutual friend told me a few weeks later

Sorry I know its a lot lol I just felt like you deserved an actual answer. So this last year has really fucking sucked because of that because I lost my best friend but also kind of a partner? So I took the rest of the year to kinda grieve I guess? And try to heal. Still trying to work on it tbh but I decided that this new year I needed to go back to things that made me happy, like you guys and writing and this blog. So that's what I'm focusing on ❤️‍🩹