#Because our TV is right next to a window at the front of the house

[nintooner]

Sometimes when my dad and I take my grandma's dog for a walk, we see houses where they've got the curtains wide open and you can see what they're watching on TV

On today's walk, we actually saw someone playing Mario Kart, and it was Double Dash specifically which was surprising. It was only one person playing and they were on Daisy Cruiser

Idk if the person playing was either:

An adult Nintendo fan, or

A kid whose parents played the GameCube back in the day and passed it down to them (similar to how I played the SNES when I was a kid even though it was the early 2000s, because my parents used to play it before I was born)

Either way, it's fun to know that there's someone in my grandma's suburb that's a GameCube Enjoyer... Makes me wish I could find people to play Double Dash (or various other games) with 😔 They exist, but I don't know how to find them

[lomlhwa]

all american whore (n.r)

pairing: step brother!riki x step sister!reader

preview: your dad has just married riki's mom. but, you're not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right?

tags/warnings: fem reader, handjob in the back of a car, oral (69 on the edge of a pool....), fingering, unprotected penetration (BOOOO), hickeys, breast slapping, pet names (angel, slut, cock whore), 4th of july celebration (and by celebration i mean orgasms for everyone), creampie

trigger warnings: STEPCEST!!!, like two mentions of reader having a dead mom

wc: 3.0k

song recs for this fic: american horror show by snow wife, all-american bitch by olivia rodrigo

a/n: i was so invested in writing this for like 4 days good lord

“you could at least try and be a little excited, y/n. sure, you’re meeting my new wife and her son today, but it’s also the 4th of july. it’s a celebration,” your dad says to you while driving. “whoopty doo,” you say as sarcastically as possible. you can feel him glaring at you without even looking over at him. “i know you miss your mother, but it’s been over a decade, i’m moving on.”

you lean your head against the window, the air hanging heavy between you and your dad. “i’ll be nice to them but i can’t promise i’ll like them,” you say, turning to see your dad crack a small smile. “i think you will like them, pumpkin. just trust me,” you nod as he speaks. 

____________________________________

as your dad parks, nerves run through you. it’s finally hitting you that you’re meeting these people that your father intends to keep in your life forever. he walks up behind you and squeezes your shoulders. “you ready, kiddo?” he asks and you give him the most unconvincing nod ever. 

you walk up to the front door and knock loudly. “you’re here!” a woman cries out as she opens the door. you assume this is your dad’s wife. “hello honey, this is y/n,” your dad introduces you and you give an awkward wave. “come in, come in. riki is just upstairs playing his video games,” she ushers you in and shuts the front door behind her. “you guys can just head out to the backyard, that’s where everyone else is,” she walks over to the base of the stairs and angles her head upwards. “NISHIMURA RIKI GET DOWN HERE,” she yells. 

you walk out to the large deck in the backyard with your dad and greet lots of people you’ve never met. you notice lots of things in the very large backyard. in-ground pool, hot tub, etc. your step-mom is rich. you settle yourself in a law chair by the pool with a spiked iced tea in hand. you’re soaking up the sun when you feel a presence next to you. you open your eyes and see a man standing there. “my mom told me i had to introduce myself to you. i’m riki,” he scratches the back of his neck and turns to yell to his mom on the deck. “happy now?” his mother shrugs. he walks away from you, clearly unhappy with your presence.

as the afternoon goes on, the family gathering becomes more lively. you’re sitting on the edge of the pool with your legs in the water when riki comes to talk to you again. he slips his shoes off and plops down next to you. “here because your mom told you to?” you raise your eyebrow at him and he shakes his head. “no, i came to apologize. i’m sure you’re in the same boat as me with our parents' marriage,” he swings his legs, creating small waves in the water. you sigh, your shoulders slumping.

“you wanna go up to my room? it’s quieter and we could watch tv or something,” riki nods towards his house and you give him a small smile before getting your legs out of the pool. you grab your sandals and follow him close behind. “y/n and i are gonna hang out in my room for a bit,” riki tells his mom and she gives him a warm smile. “have fun, kids,” she says. she shoots your dad an excited look as you two walk into the house. 

as you settle into riki's bed, you feel as though this is a very intimate space to be in with your step-brother. he puts on some brainrot show as background noise and sparks up a conversation with you. despite being invested in your conversation, you can tell there’s something else on his mind. the way his eyes dart between your own eyes and your lips brings butterflies to your stomach. 

riki snakes his hand onto your bare thigh, your shorts having ridden up from adjusting to sit comfortably in his bed. he strokes your skin with his thumb like it’s second nature. goosebumps rise in the wake of the soft movements from his thumb. you look at him with doll-like eyes and he can’t seem to get enough of your appearance. 

slowly, his hand snakes higher and higher before his fingers are teasing the stitching of your underwear. you can tell he wants to shove his hand in there and play with your wet heat. you know his fingers can feel how wet you’re getting. he shifts his arm a little bit so he can reach his pointer finger out to brush over your clothed clit. slowly, it gets harder for you to hold the conversation. 

riki leans over to whisper in your ear, despite the two of you being the only people in the room. “can i? please let me make you feel good” is all he says to you and you honestly can’t get your head to nod fast enough. you’re not blood related so you should be fine to hook up, right? at your consent, he slips his fingers under the fabric of your panties and plays with your clit. small moans and whimpers escape your lips when he touches you. it feels amazing. his soft fingers on your skin lights your nerves on fire.

riki scooches closer to you so he can press kisses onto your jawline and neck. you tilt your head back on instinct, giving more access to the expanse of your throat. he slides his middle and pointer fingers into your wet hole, pumping them in and out slowly. your muscles clamp around his digits, desperate for more pleasure. “riki, oh my god,” you breathe out, your hand shooting down to hold his wrist while he fucks you. he holds your face with his other hand, making sure you’re looking at him while he fingers you.

your high creeps up on you as the tips of his fingers jab the gummy spot inside you. you arch your back as your walls throb around his fingers. “give it to me, y/n. i know you’re fucking close. cum for me,” he whispers in your ear again. you dig your nails into the skin of his wrist as you cum around his fingers. riki lets out a sinister laugh before pulling his fingers out of you. he brings his wet fingers to his mouth and licks your release off of them. as you’re about to say something to him, you hear your dad’s voice. “y/n! it’s time to go home!”

____________________________________

for the next 3 days, all you can think about is riki. was what you did wrong or immoral? it can’t be. you’re not blood siblings. the only thing bonding you is your parents’ marriage. unfortunately for you, you can’t help but want more.

today must be your lucky day because your dad has some amazing news for you. “we’re going on a little shopping trip with riki and my wife today. do you wanna go there in separate cars or take one car?” your dad asks, leaning on your doorframe. “we can take one car, it’s fine with me. i’ll sit in the back with riki.” 

your dad gives you a warm grin, only happy that you’re getting along with your step-brother. he pulls out his phone to text his wife about your transportation decision. not even 10 minutes later, an suv pulls into your driveway. you rush to put your shoes on before climbing into the large backseat with riki. he pats the seat right next to him, despite the whole rest of the backseat being empty. happily, you oblige. the car is chilly and riki has a blanket over his lap.

it’s about a two hour drive to the biggest outlet mall near you. so you settle next to riki, watching a movie on the laptop he’d brought with him. about 20 minutes into the drive, you notice riki shifting around uncomfortably. you take a single glance down and you know exactly what’s wrong. he’s hard. so unbelievably hard. you can see it through the blanket.

“do you want my help?” you ask in a hushed voice. riki catches his bottom lip between his teeth as he nods. luckily, he decided to wear basketball shorts, so you have easy access. you pull the waistband of his shorts and underwear down just enough to get his cock out. you wrap your hand around it under the blanket and pump him slowly. he digs his teeth into his lip to suppress any sounds coming out. you run your thumb over the pink, dripping tip and he lets out a sigh. “you okay back there, hon?” his mom asks, seeming concerned. just as he’s about to open his mouth, you start pumping faster. “y-yeah, i’m so fine,” riki responds. his mom seems to accept this answer as she goes back to looking at her phone.

“the fuck is wrong with you?” he whispers aggressively. you give him a mischievous smile as your hand continues to work on him. you stroke him with firm, mildly swift motions. his hips buck to meet your hand’s movements and you can’t help but smile at his desperation. riki slides his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. he digs his fingers into the skin of your hip as his orgasm approaches. “right there, angel, fuck,” he squeezes his eyes shut as his cums, his hips stuttering. white ropes of cum paint your hand and forearm. as you bring your hand to your mouth to lick it clean, he shoves his cock back into his shorts. 

____________________________________

after your shopping trip, your parents drop you off at riki’s house. you walk into his empty house and plop down onto the couch. riki stands in the doorway of the living room, watching you. “you wanna swim?” he asks, nodding his head toward the back door. “i don’t have a bathing suit,” you reply, smirking at him. “swim in your underwear.” you shrug, not really minding the idea.

you rise from the couch, walking past riki towards the back door of his house. as you walk, you drop items of your clothes on the floor. first you drop your shirt, exposing your back and your black bra. next, your shorts. they left almost nothing to the imagination anyway. your black panties hug your hips and ass in a way that almost sends your step-brother into a frenzy. you peel your socks off last, throwing them into a corner. finally, you reach the pool. you dive in head first, drenching yourself head to toe. “you coming?” you call out to riki, who’s been a statue since you started stripping.

you can barely see him from the pool but you can tell he took his slides off and threw his shirt somewhere in the room. he comes darting out the door, diving into the pool the same way you did. when he comes back up, he flips his hair out of his face. you’re holding onto the edge of the pool and watch his movements. he swims over to you, halting in front of you. there’s a moment of silence between you before he grabs you by the back of the head and crashes your lips together.

riki kisses you like it might kill him if he doesn’t. the kiss is sloppy and full of saliva. he kisses you like he’s been poisoned and your lips are the only antidote. your hands travel to his exposed chest, digging your nails into his chest. he groans against your mouth and the sound goes straight to your core. you wrap your legs around his waist underwater and he kisses you harder. 

“i wanna fuck you, but not here. not now. let me taste you,” he whispers against your lips as if someone will hear you. you nod, but suddenly a better idea comes to your mind. “get out of the pool and lay on your back,” you instruct, also pulling yourself out of the pool. riki follows suit, doing what you told him to. you stand by his head and shimmy your wet panties off. you throw them onto the lawn before turning back to riki.

you put both feet beside riki’s head and lower yourself slowly, sitting on his face. his tongue almost immediately darts out to taste you and you fall forward, catching yourself with your hands on his hips. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your core further onto his face. with trembling hands, you push his shorts down his thighs. he lifts his hips to help you in sliding them off him. you lay your torso down and take his cock into your hands. you stroke it a couple times before spitting on the tip.

you take the first half of his cock into your mouth, already choking around it. he moans against your pussy, his hips bucking into your face. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it lightly. your knees fight to squeeze around his head but you don’t let them. you stroke the portion of his cock that you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to work an orgasm out of him. you bob your head up and down rhythmically. riki eases two fingers into you and they follow the same rhythm as your head. 

your orgasm creeps up on you faster than you would’ve liked it to, but you can tell he’s close too. you pull your mouth off of him to let out a high-pitched squeal when he curls his fingers inside you. “ah, fuck, i’m gonna cum,” you exclaim, clenching around his digits that are abusing your hole. “me too, angel,” riki replies. his voice is so husky and strained that it almost sends you over the edge. 

you manage to pump him a few more times before toppling over the edge. you shake above him, your thighs clamping down on his head. the noises you make as you cum send him into his orgasm. he releases onto your face and neck, causing you to flinch a little. you roll off of him, laying naked from the waist down on the warm concrete. when you sit up, you hear a car roll into the driveway. riki shoots up and give you an ‘oh shit’ look. you both bolt into the house, grab all your clothes and rush up the stairs. he barely closes his door before your parents open the front door. you can hear them talking and laughing about something but you’re too focused on how fast your heart is beating.

you collapse onto his floor, laughing about how close you were to getting caught. riki listens for the movement of your parents, trying to find out what they’re doing. relief washes over him when he hears them leave again. he turns to you to find that you’re moving to put your clothes on. “don’t you fucking dare.” he walks over to you and hooks his arms under yours, lifting you off the floor and onto his bed. you rest your body weight on your elbows and watch as he admires your body.

riki runs his hands up your thighs and spreads your legs for him. he pulls you so you’re almost hanging off the edge of his bed. “please, angel. let me fuck you. i need to know how that pretty fucking pussy feels,” it almost sounds like he’s begging you. your core throbs as he speaks. “please,” is all you can muster as a response. riki grabs the base of his cock, lining up with your wet hole. “god, you’re gonna be my fucking slut. right, angel? a whore for my, ngh, cock. gonna ruin you for everyone else. you’re only ever gonna want me” he shoves himself into the hilt before pausing.

your walls pulse around him, trying to adjust to his size. before you’re fully adjusted, he starts to thrust. his cock abuses your hole and it feels so fucking good. you wrap your legs around his waist as he uses you. “god, it’s like you were made for me. such a good cock whore. you’re taking me so well.” roughly, he pulls your bra down to expose your breasts. he slaps both of your breasts, leaving bright red marks. you cry out in pleasure, your back arching. “such a whore for your step-brother. what would your father say?” he teases. 

he leans down and connects his mouth with the plush skin of your breast. he sucks on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark. he continues the same motions a couple more times, leaving your chest riddled in his love bites. “you’re fucking mine. you hear me?” he says, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “say it. say it and i’ll make my sweet angel cum.” the idea of finally cumming makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“fffuck riki, i’m yours. i’m all fucking yours,” you cry out. your orgasm is right there. “good fucking girl. so obedient,” he slaps your chest again, leaving a bright handprint. “where do you want me to cum?” riki asks as his thrusts speed up and become sloppy. “inside, inside, god please inside of me,” you beg, your pussy clamping down on him. he chuckles at your desperation. he connects his pointer finger with your clit, rubbing it in circles. “cum. cum for me right now, slut.”

the combination of his words, his motions on your clit and his cock abusing your wet cunt sends you crashing over the edge. you cry out loudly, a string of curses erupting from you. he quickly follows suit, spilling his seed into your weeping hole. you both rest for a few moments, feeling his cum seep out around his cock. you wipe sweat off your forehead before looking at him.

“we can never tell our parents.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[fruitjoos]

it’s fall, and it’s over

day 2 — angstober !

patrick zweig x reader

part I: it’s fall, so the leaves are turning

part II: it’s fall, and loves grows cold

Your eyes parted sluggishly, adjusting to the muted light that enveloped the room. It felt like your body had been awake for a while, but now your mind was catching up. Patrick was still asleep beside you, his soft breathing steady, tear stains visible on his cheeks. That same, heavy feeling settled in your chest, things weren’t right between you two. It ate away at you, the fact that you didn’t know how to fix it. Helplessness washed over you as you sat up, rubbing your face with your hands. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, the cold morning air from the open window bit at your skin, stiffening your muscles. You must have forgotten to close it last night. The cold clung to you as you tugged a hoodie over your head, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

The low hum of the TV caught your ear, still running from the night before. It had become a background noise in the house, a means to break the thick silence that had descended. You put together a simple breakfast, barely enough, your energy too drained to do more. Patrick was still buried in the comforter. His eyes cracked open, catching the digits on the alarm clock.

8:21 A.M.

It was too early. He rolled over, accidentally nudging the mug of tea you’d left for him the night before. The tea spilled, pooling cold and untouched on the floor, forgotten and useless.

When you returned to the bedroom, you set the plate in front of him. "I’m not hungry," he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, but the frustration crept up anyway. He’s too old to be acting like this, you thought. "You need to eat," you said, pressing the plate more firmly onto the blanket. "Please." Your tone softened, realizing it had come out harsher than intended. Yet still, he didn’t budge.

A sigh slipped from your lips, frustration spilling over as you slammed your plate onto the nightstand more forcefully than you meant to. That’s when you noticed it, the cold tea pooling into the carpet. “You didn’t bother to clean up this mess?” you snapped, your tone sharper now. Patrick looked up, his eyes wide, recognizing your anger. “Sorry,” he muttered, but it felt insufficient.

You yanked the blanket off him, letting it fall to the floor. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gather himself. “Get up and clean this up, please,” you said, your voice taut with frustration. “I’m tired of all the moping. So what if you can’t get hard? It’s not the end of the world. Just deal with it and move on.”

Patrick sat up slowly, his jaw tightening at your words. “I can get hard,” he spat through clenched teeth.

“You didn’t last night,” you shot back, hands now resting on your hips. “But I’m tired of your bitching and moaning. I’m over it.”

He stood up, a cold laugh escaping him as he scoffed. “This isn’t about me not getting hard last night,” he snapped, his voice rising. “This is about you treating our relationship like some fucking waiting game. Like you’re just biding your time until I screw up one last time and you can finally kick me out.”

He stepped forward, his eyes riveted on yours, his voice shaking now. “You think I don’t notice the little things? How you’ve been pulling away? I want to be here, I want this relationship, and you don’t. You’re just waiting for it to end.”

His voice cracked, his pain breaking through. "My chest physically hurts because I love you," he choked out, tears welling up in his eyes. "I love you, even when we’re fighting, even when we’re screaming at each other. I loved you when you asked about using a condom because you fear feeling trapped with a baby by me. I love you,” his voice broke, “even when I can feel you drifting further and further away from me."

Tears slipped down his face now, his voice shaking as he spoke. “So don’t you try to blame me for us not working,” he said, the words sharp despite the tremble, “because you think I’m weak or whatever the fuck you’re trying to play this as.” He waved his hand in a frustrated, dismissive gesture, wiping at his eyes with the other. “This has been you. This whole damn time, it’s been you pulling away.” His voice cracked again, but he didn’t stop, pushing the words out through the hurt. “You can’t keep pretending this is on me."

“Patrick, I think you should go,” you finally said, gazing up at him through your lashes. He could only nod in disbelief. If he opened his mouth to speak, a flood of sobs would escape, and he couldn’t bear that. He couldn’t believe you were breaking up with him. A thousand questions raced through his mind. Why? Why are you doing this?

He searched your eyes for answers, hoping to find a glimmer of the love you once had for him. “Please,” he managed to whisper, his voice trembling. “Can’t we talk about this?”

You shook your head, sadness and confusion clouding your mind. “It’s not working, Patrick. We’re hurting each other more than we’re helping.”

His heart sank at your words, the weight of reality crashing down on him. “But I love you,” he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. “I can change. I’ll do better. Just give me another chance.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the pain in your chest. “I know you love me, and that makes this harder. But sometimes love isn’t enough. I need to find my own way again.”

Tears spilled from his eyes as he absorbed your words, feeling helpless and lost. “You’re throwing everything away,” he choked out, his voice cracking.

“I’m trying to save us both,” you replied softly, your heart breaking for him. “We need to let go.”

You turned away from him, unable to watch him suffer. You knew it was for the best, but the ache in your chest felt unbearable as he walked away, grabbing his jacket and slamming the front door behind him.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 6

Part 6:

"I brought that disgusting snack with the jam you like," Art sat down in the seat next to Liana on the plane and glanced at her for a second. She had fallen asleep. He didn’t know when or how she managed it, but he knew that if the recent period had been hard for him, Liana had completely collapsed into herself. She managed to fight with him twice, apologize three times (he wouldn’t lie, he enjoyed every "sorry for being a bitch" he received, because up until a few months ago, she wouldn’t apologize at all) and she cried a lot. He knew she cried because every time he saw her in the library (the only place he managed to find her in the past month), her cheeks were puffier than usual, and her eyes were red. Now that they were traveling home for the holidays, he hoped she could rest and, if he were to be really greedy, Art hoped she would have time for him again.

Without him knowing how it happened, her head found its place on his shoulder, causing him to remember that time he was sick and woke up next to her. The first thought that crossed his mind that morning was that the only position that could bring him closer to Liana was to be physically inside Liana. His dick felt the same way when he woke up that day, quietly went to the bathroom, and then went for a run. Since then, he had occasional flashes of the image of his legs tangled with hers and his hands holding her as if she were his only grip on reality. Like now, with her head on his shoulder and her breathing heavy. He found himself sighing and closing his eyes as well.

"You're coming for Christmas, right?" Art asked as they walked toward her parents' car, carrying his bag in one hand and her suitcase in the other (despite Liana's insistence that she could carry it herself). "You know we're Jewish and we celebrate Hanukkah, right, Art?" she said, amused. Now that she had a little break, she planned to sleep so much that her face would take on the shape of her pillow. "Really, Liana Levy?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "Do you usually come to my parents thing?" "Now that you'll be there too, I'll ask my parents to stay home and watch TV." When Art was in boarding school, he didn't come home for the holidays; it was a training period, and he didn’t want to waste it. "You know that just means I'll come to you, right?" he replied, not even looking at her. Art didn’t have many friends from home. Neither did Liana. She planned to meet up with Rebecca, and Jake had sent her a message asking if she was coming for the holidays. She hadn’t replied yet. "Usually your parents put up a small menorah on the window. It's cute," she shrugged and from a distance saw her dad leaning on the car. "Look, Art." She pointed in his direction and quickened her pace, seeing Art do the same. "Three months and you're already her soldier," her dad said as he hugged her, referring to her suitcase that Art had carried. "What can I do? She has that kind of influence," Art winked playfully and hugged Liana's dad as well. They really liked each other. They always talked about sports and Stanford, sharing stories that Liana couldn’t relate to. "So, I'll see you in two days?" Art asked as her dad parked in front of his house. "Don't count on it, Donaldson," she replied, and he rolled his eyes as he walked away. "You two seem closer," her dad observed. "We're fine," she summed up, not wanting to agree but knowing he was right.

The next day, Liana called Art in the afternoon. "I knew you'd miss me," he sounded amused. "Where are you, why are you out of breath?" she asked, confused. "I went to play tennis with my dad. I'm trying not to embarrass him, and now we're resting for the third time because he's old," Art replied. "Why did you call?" he asked. "Do you want to come to a party tonight?" she asked in return. "You don't have to, but Rebecca invited me to Sean's party, and I think he's a douchebag, but Rebecca probably wants to hook up with him, and she'll probably ditch me during the evening, and I think Jake will be there, and to be honest, I'd rather stay home, but Rebecca really asked. Will you come with us?" she asked after a stream of murmurs. There was something pleading in her voice, and Art couldn't help but feel a slight tingle all over his body. It was something he couldn't pinpoint the source of, but hearing Liana beg was a sound he didn't know his ears needed.

"What's in it for me?" he tried to make the most of a situation where he had nothing to lose. "Art." Her tone was warning. "I'm serious," he retorted, even though he wasn't. "So am I. We'll pick you up at nine, dress like a normal person, please. Button-down shirt and jeans, don't come in a Stanford shirt." He could hear the sarcasm. "You know if you want something, you're not supposed to insult me, right?" he replied. "That's my love language." She said, and he didn't stop responding that he knew before she hung up.

"We're going to get drunk, right?" Liana asked him as she put a hand on a bottle of gin. "Will I have to babysit you today, Li?" he asked, amused by the situation. "No. Because you'll get drunk with me. I told you Rebecca would leave," she told him, pouring them both a tequila shot. "You're on vacation, Art. You can afford one night of alcohol. I promise to be responsible for the rest of the break. We'll only drink champagne on New Year's Eve. I promise to be good," she smiled her most convincing smile. Liana hoped it would have an effect, although Art didn't easily give in to manipulations, especially not when they were so transparent. "You'll be good?" he asked, raising the shot glass like her. "I'll be the best," she replied, and they both drank. This was going to be a long night.

Four shots in and a cup of cheap keg beer later, Art and Liana found themselves sitting outside on the synthetic grass at Sean's house. The December cold didn't affect either of them due to the amount of alcohol. "Lia, I didn't know you were here," they turned together a second after they sat down, seeing Jake. "James," Art smiled a smile Liana knew exactly what it meant; Jake didn't stand a chance. He was on the sharp tongue radar of Art Donaldson, who, under the guise of niceness, could be the most ruthless person in the world. "It's Jake," the other replied. "Can we talk?" he turned to her. "We're busy, try later, but I wouldn't count on it," the smile didn't leave Art's face while he spoke. "Liana." Jake's voice was piercing. "I have nothing to talk to you about right now, Jake, sorry. Don't ruin my night," she tried to be gentle, but they both knew he didn't deserve it. He nodded and walked away in defeat. "That was fun. Do you have any other exes to bully?" Art asked, taking another sip from the bottle they had taken with them. "Arthur!" she feigned an angry voice and lightly slapped his hand, but he quickly grabbed her hand in his. "You're supposed to be good, not violent," he said, tracing small circles on the hand he refused to let go of. "I can be both at the same time." She shrugged, snatching the bottle from him with her free hand.

"Lindsey has been eyeing you all night; you could totally go for it," she said, examining him. He glanced over at Lindsey, a blonde girl he remembered from when they were younger. Her body was well-sculpted, and the dress she wore suited her. "No, tonight it's just you and me, Li. You won't get rid of me and go to James," he said, half-humor, half-serious. He didn't want her to go to her ex. "Okay." She shrugged and laid her head on his knees without asking, looking at him with an amused look he returned. "Are you drunk?" he asked. "No, you're drunk," she stated. "Why did you break up with James?" "His name is Jake." "Why do you always evade when I ask you?" He couldn't stop looking at her. She was…his tonight. Close to him. Looking only at him. Needy as fuck. As if she only saw him from the moment they entered this house. "Because it's embarrassing…" she took another sip and choked a little. "Jesus, Li, don't drink while lying down." Art scolded and snatched the bottle from her, taking another swig. "Tell me." His finger lingered in her hair and gently brushed her cheek; he saw how she instinctively closed her eyes from the cold touch. "Tell me," he repeated, continuing to caress her face gently and moving slightly to her neck, testing the boundaries of this evening. "You'll laugh at me." She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Tell me," he said with the same firmness that made her swallow. An intonation she had never heard from him before. A voice she didn't know how to refuse. "I didn't want to sleep with him." She mumbled and tried to turn her face the other way, forgetting for a moment that Art's hand was there, and just as it had stroked before, it now made sure to stabilize her head exactly where he wanted it. With eyes on him. Eyes that pierced directly into her soul if that was possible. If it wasn't the alcohol that made her succumb to the blue eyes that stared at her. "Why would I laugh at you?" he asked. "Because it's embarrassing not to want to sleep with your boyfriend when you're 19." She really didn't want to keep looking at him when she said it, but he didn't let her escape the feeling of surrender she was experiencing right now. "I would never judge you for that, Li. More than that, I'm quite glad you didn't sleep with that loser," his hand went back to making light movements on her cheek, but the atmosphere in the air changed. "Why?" she asked quietly. "Why what?" he replied. "Why are you glad?" she slowly sat up, and Art helped her with a hand he placed on her lower back, not removing it when she sat closer than she had before. "Li…" his nose touched hers for a few seconds, and he closed his eyes. "Are you going to do that thing where you whisper sweet nothings and pretend to be nice so I'll go home with you?" she asked, feeling bold, and he smiled, his eyes still closed. "That's pointless; we both know I don't have a single nice bone in my body," he managed to find words, opening his eyes for a second to see her like he hadn't seen her before. Her cheeks were flushed like his from the alcohol and the cold, her lips half-parted, and her green eyes fixed on him. "And I'll still go home with you?" her voice was quiet and needy, if someone asked Art, he would say almost musical. "Yes, you'll still go home with me, Li." He declared. And so, with both of them half-drunk, Art and Liana's lips met. It was a kiss that knocked the air out of their lungs, built on the sexual tension they had carried for years without realizing it. Liana's hands tried to touch every part of him while Art's hands were experienced and steady on her waist. His lips moved to her neck, and she let out a sound that Art could swear was pornographic, one he didn't want anyone else to hear from her ever.

"We're leaving. Now," he declared, giving her a look that left no room for doubt. This night was just beginning.

This one is a bit longer, so I hope it's OK... No Patrick in this one, but we needed some development with Art after that last part. Hope you like it. Thanks for engaging and sending me your thoughts. Please continue to do that. And if you want me to tag you for future parts, say the word ❤️

taglist: @swetearss ganana yoitsme-04

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴘɪᴘᴇᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ (J.M)

*vision bored doesn't describe readers' looks it describes the vibes of the story*

Pairing: football-player!Joel Miller x golden-girl!Fem!Reader

POV: This story is told through the POV of high school senior Joel Miller

Summary: Joel's girl lives in his dreams and in the house next door. He's always known her, and he's always wanted her, but in ApplePine, whose dream does she not haunt? Now He has a chance that He's been looking forward to all his life. This can't fail. He won't let someone like her slip away.

Warnings/tags: Kind of toxic undertones, mentions of a bad home life (reader), church, idolization, nerves, kissing and making out, small Texas town with very traditional values, climbing and watching people through windows, Joel is a Lil bit of a stalker, BAD American football talk. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME

WC: 4.5k

On most Saturdays and after church on Sundays, she could be found working at the local ice cream shop. Occasionally, if there wasn't a football game, she would also work on Fridays. She was a well-known figure in our small town - being the girl next door, head cheerleader, and leading member of the student council. Her many accomplishments included winning the title of Little Miss Apple Pine, which only added to her popularity. Many of us admired her from afar, watching her ride her bike with friends, interact with the little kids in the neighborhood, or simply be in her element with a book in hand and a Walkman playing some music.

It was difficult to tell what music she listened to, but I'd like to think it was hard rock, maybe Guns N' Roses. However, her sweet nature suggested it was more likely to be Bon Jovi or AC/DC. Despite her bright persona, we all knew that she had a tough time at home, our houses were right next to each other too It was sad but there's only so much a loud TV can cover.

We attend the same school and ride the same bus together. We have chemistry class as well as lunch B together. Additionally, we share gym and math classes. I have noticed that she is quieter in math class and doesn't answer questions as quickly. In math class, she sits three seats ahead of me, and during lunch, she sits six seats away from me. Her round lunch table is located ten tables away from mine, and it's always occupied by a few cheerleaders and jocks who are considered acceptable, unlike me who often gets thrown off the field for hitting refs because of not knowing if  I'm coming or going. Compared to them, she seems to be in another world, like a cool autumn day in the middle of a hot Texas summer.

As the chemistry class began, Mr. McMory walked into the classroom with his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. He had only undone the top button of his shirt, showing some long curly grey chest hairs — utterly gross if you ask me. We all watched as he walked to the whiteboard at the front of the classroom. He clasped his hands together behind his back and stopped before turning to face the class.

"Now, as most of you probably know, we will need to form a new set of lab partners for this semester. However, to keep things fair so everyone gets a chance of getting matched with whom You would prefer, I've decided to have you all write your names on a small piece of paper and put them in this box. Once I've finished passing them out, I will draw two student names from the box at random, and those two will be your partners for this semester."

Without having to pause, Mr. McMory spoke clearly. This routine was something he did every marking period, four times a year, for 30 years. The memories of the previous marking period memories flooded my mind, where Jason Duly and Billy Holiday tried to bribe Gaby Michelle to give up her seat so that they could sit next to our classmate, the charming "I trust that you all understand the process now?" Mr. McMory continued. Once no one raised their hands to question what he said, he walked back to the front and handed out the small pieces of paper to everyone. "Now you have two minutes to write your names on the paper, then place it into the box. Once you are all finished, I will begin the randomized selection."

Chaos began to take place across the room with various bets being placed and trades being arranged like a market in the middle of a jungle, I wrote my name on the slip of paper without a thought. It was a meaningless task to me, as I would have been fine with getting anyone as my lab partner. In the middle sat our Pipe Dream, seemingly clueless to it all, while these students scrambled like mad to gain the favor of their desired partners, and the professor seemed unaware of all the action taking place in the classroom.

The chaos of the class was suddenly drowned out by Mr. McMory yelling out to have students start putting their slips into the box. As the box was quickly getting more and more full, the class started to become more and more silent and calm as no one wanted to be one of the ones not getting the partner they wanted even if they all wanted the same one our darling Miss pipedream isn't only perfect in every way but she's also incredibly smart.

Mr. McMory walked to the front of the classroom and stood in front of the whiteboard. He held the box and a red whiteboard marker. "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement," he said as he paused and placed the box on a stool in front of him. He then pulled out the first two names. "Gaby and Hannah," he announced, causing a small gasp from some students. Mr. McMory placed the paper down and wrote the names on the board. There was a moment of silence before a low murmur began to spread throughout the classroom Mr. McMory then pulled out another two slips from the box and announced the next pairs of names: "Billy and Jillian, Jason and Cory." As each pair was announced, the two people were immediately surrounded by cheers of excitement or groans of disappointment. Some students could be overheard saying things like "no way!" and "I can't believe this!" and "Are we sure it's fair?" There were a few complaints here and there that their partner was not who they wanted, but Mr. McMory quickly cut them off, saying, "No changing partners unless both parties are in agreement, understood?"

As I stood watching the chaos break loose behind me, I couldn't help but chuckle at how quickly everything was unfolding. However, my laughter came to a sudden halt when Mr. McMory announced me and a stranger as partners.No, not a stranger, It was the girl who seemed to have it all, the girl who had effortlessly made her way through every aspect of the school and had become something of a legend. She was the girl next door, the one every boy wanted, and the only one I was enamored with at the slightest glance in her direction. My heart skipped a beat as I looked over the crowd and saw her smiling brightly at me. Time seemed to slow down as the rest of the world faded away. It was as if the universe was just waiting for us to get to know each other. My nervousness quickly turned into an adrenaline rush as I became more and more excited. It was an opportunity I couldn't pass up, a chance to turn my dreams into reality and finally figure her out.

On the bus, I noticed her again. We made eye contact but didn't speak. She sat with her friend Sally Handson until she got off at her stop. However, I didn't expect her to move over and sit in the same seat as me.

"You're Joel, right?" she asked me before kindly offering her hand to shake.

"That's me," I smiled as I gently took her hand in mine and shook it. Our skin connected, and I felt a slight tremor in my hand before letting go, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. I looked back up to see her, and she seemed to be just as nervous as I felt. The silence seemed to linger on for a moment before she spoke again.

"I just wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look at the assignment yet?"

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking. "No, actually, I'm not very good at chemistry. I was probably going to copy off of you, to tell you the truth," I said, trying to make a joke, but struggling to hide the fact that it was true.

She smiled brightly, showing off her pearly white teeth. "Like all football players. It's okay though, I can help you study sometime if you'd like?"

As she spoke, my heart skipped a beat and my cheeks flushed. The offer of her help flooded my mind with different scenarios, from spending time with her after school to studying together at the library or even hosting study groups at our houses. I chuckled nervously and nodded my head.

The sudden stop of the bus snapped me back to reality, and a thought raced through my mind. Should I ask to walk her home? The offer seemed so appealing, and I was filled with possibilities of getting to know her even better. It was time to take the chance, but I had to fight the nervousness building inside me.

"Hey, are you walking to your house? Because I was just going to ask if...if I could walk you home?" I spoke the words carefully, fearing that I might mess up and ruin the moment. I fiddled with the straps of my backpack, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I waited for her response.

She smiled kindly at me. "Yes, and I would love that. Do you know which house?"

"I do," I said with a slightly more confident tone than before. I felt myself calming down as the idea of walking home together became more real. She began to take in the neighborhood around us, and I thought it was a perfect time to start a conversation.

"So, this is where you live?"

She giggled, and her laughter was infectious. I couldn't help but smile. "Joel, you and I have lived in the same neighborhood since we were newborns. We're neighbors for goodness sake, no need to be so formal with me."

She was right; I was overthinking our interactions. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember. "Oh yeah...I suppose you have a point. I guess my nervousness made me go blank like that. I'm just not used to seeing you when you're not out on the field with your cheer squad." I chuckled, feeling my nerves die down even more as I looked over at her and relaxed a bit more.

"I understand it's hard not to picture me like that, and you as well, Joel. You're violent on the field. I'm pretty sure that referee from Tentown had a broken nose," she tries to make conversation. 

The mention of the game in Tentown makes me chuckle a bit. That was the first game in the league where I was allowed to play, and I suppose my desire to prove myself ended with me getting a bit carried away. The thought of the ref's nose makes me chuckle a bit more as I couldn't help but feel bad for the ref. 

"Yeah, I think you're right about that. But that's just how it is, right? The game is pretty brutal. I can't play without getting a little carried away." 

She thinks for a second and then says, "Maybe that's why you're always benched, along with Tommy? Speaking of your brother, where is he? Oh, and how are poor freshmen? I heard the older football players are being a little mean."

The question about my benching for games suddenly brings back my nervous energy, and I immediately feel uncomfortable talking about it. "That's probably one of the reasons for it, yeah..." I sigh as the mention of my brother and some of the team's hazing of the freshman brings a frown to my face.

"It pisses me off how they treat some of the freshmen like that. I don't see why they can't just treat them like the rest of the team..." I pause mid-sentence as the thought comes to my mind.

"I feel so bad for the poor freshman. They do the same thing on the cheer team," she said. We stopped at the crossing signal, and I was surprised by how well she could relate to what I was describing. It dawned on me that she may have experienced it more than I had considering how involved she is in cheer. We waited for the light to turn green, and I smiled at her.

"We should set up a study date sometime soon. After all, you said you're not that good at chemistry?" she said as we got closer to her house. I was thrilled at the possibility of spending more time with her.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. I'll certainly need the help," I chuckled. She walked ahead of me with a sweet little glide in her step, making me have to catch up to her as we continued walking.

"Which days work for you?" she asked, opening her backpack and taking out a pen and paper. "Oh, and write down your landline number." I replied, "I'm pretty much free all week, so just let me know what works for you." Her request for my landline number made my heart skip a beat as it reminded me of when she offered to help me at her place.

"How about Friday after school since there's no game? We can meet at my place," she suggested as we stood outside her front gate. "That works great for me! We can discuss our study plans and maybe even study together if you're up for it," I replied excitedly. "Your place sounds perfect, and I just want to say thank you," I added, feeling grateful for her help. She smiled and said, "Of course, Joel." Then she walked into her yard and house, waving goodbye.

Friday couldn't come any quicker in my mind. I couldn't get Miss Applepine, Cheery Pie, Pipe Dream out of my head at all. The more we talked in class, the more I fell under her spell and the more I wanted to know... She was a mystery, and I wanted to be the first to hear everything she was willing to tell.

now stand at her front door. I rang the doorbell eagerly waiting for her to answer. She opened the door; she looked so pretty. "Come on in, Joel," she opened the door to let me in. In all my years of being neighbors, I always wondered what her house looked like, and to be honest, her house is less organized than I thought.

"Sorry about the mess. You know, it's just me and my dad, and I'm a little behind on chores... um... studying," she began to ramble but stopped herself. It was rather cute; it made me smile even more.

"Come on upstairs to my room. I have all my books and everything up there," she led me up to her bedroom. It was so normal - band posters, photos of her family, school items, her numerous awards, and her window looked directly into my room.

As we entered her room, I couldn't resist glancing over to her window again. It felt like this was the closest I could get to seeing inside her home for A Long time and now I'm inside the looking glass. I took a seat right next to her bed as she went to her bookshelf to collect her textbooks. As we started reviewing the material, a wave of butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I occasionally stole a glance at her while she flipped through different articles, but I couldn't hold my stare for long.

"Are these all the books we're going to be using?" I asked as she placed her biology and chemistry books on her desk. I watched her lean over, her eyes almost glued to the books as she read through them. "Yeah, these are the ones. I just want to make sure that we're both prepared for this project. It's about how we think the universe began, so lots to cover" she replied with a soft smile that brought me back to reality for a moment as I gazed into her eyes.

"I'm ready to start studying. So, what do you want to start with?" she asked as I sat down. She looked at me with a sweet smile and thought for a moment before responding, "Do you think we should start with chemistry? I know it's the one you struggle with the most."

"Sure, that works," I replied excitedly she remembered that from the walk my cheeks got a little pink as I opened the book and looked over her shoulder to find the section she had mentioned. I was determined to pay close attention this time, feeling more relaxed thanks to her calm and collected presence.

Every little gesture or movement she made caught my full attention like a spark in my head. Her adorable smile and the way she played with her hair made it difficult to resist complimenting her. When she asked if she could ask me something, it snapped me out of my trance for a moment. I replied with a simple "Yeah, sure."

As she playfully hit my shoulder, her touch felt light as a feather. I couldn't help but smile, sitting up and crossing my legs like she was doing. Moving my book from my lap, I placed it on the end of her bed. "Why can't you focus?" she asked, and my heart started racing. I didn't want to tell her the truth, so I lied, "No reason..." Trying to act casual, I could feel myself blushing as she hit my shoulder and called me out. It was because of her - her sweet smile, small gestures, and the way she sat cross-legged on her bed - that I couldn't focus. But I couldn't just outright admit that I had a massive crush on her.

"We can take a break?" she offered, and I felt even more nervous. The idea of taking a break meant a chance to talk about things other than studying and a chance to just hang out with her. I was hoping that she felt the same way and that she also couldn't help but notice the tension that was building between us. I sat back up and joked, "You're saying that as if I would deny the offer." My heart was racing, and I couldn't help but wonder if she could feel the same tension I did.

As we continued to talk, I made sure to continue moving closer to her every chance that I could get. The heat coming from her body filled me with a new sense of boldness as I tried to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean who can blame me, when I'm sitting across from someone so charming..." I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"Have you been studying for long?" she asked me as she laid back on her bed, making it clear that she had no plans to get up anytime soon. As the conversation shifted towards more flirtatious topics, I started to blush slightly. "Do you mean studying?..." I replied to her, but even I could hear that my voice had taken on a flirty tone.

"Yes, studying, or are you just as brain-dead as the other football players?" she joked. "Hey now, what are you implying?" I responded teasingly as I moved closer to her. As we talked more, the tone of the conversation became increasingly flirtatious, and I struggled to hold back my blush. "You're the one who keeps saying we should take a break. Sounds like you don't want to study..." I said, trying to pretend to focus on a book.

But even as we continued discussing the material or pretending to, I noticed her eyes drifting toward me as she glanced up and down my body. It made me feel a little uneasy, but also excited as I wondered what she was thinking. Could she feel the same tension between us that I felt?

"Hmmm, maybe I don't. But you're the one who said yes to the break." she grinned mischievously as I scooted slightly closer to her, looking up and staring into her eyes. "You make it kind of hard to pay attention..."

As we continued to talk The heat coming from her body filled me with a sense of boldness as I attempted to make my actions more noticeable. "I mean, who can blame me when I'm sitting across from someone so charming?" I said as I leaned forward a little, making the distance between us almost nonexistent.

"I'm flattered. I'll take that as a compliment since you're also very kind with your words," she said as I moved even closer to her. We were almost too close for comfort, but I couldn't resist getting even closer. "I thought I was charming, but you are even more charming than I imagined," I told her, leaning in even closer until I was practically touching her. I felt like I was crossing a line, but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes seemed to be blushing, and I felt a sudden burst of confidence. I brought my hand up to her side, almost touching her waist. "You are an interesting girl," I whispered.

"You find me interesting?" she asked, smiling shyly and looking down. I could tell she was blushing and feeling a little embarrassed, but I decided to take a risk and leaned in even closer. Our faces were almost touching, and I could feel her breath on my face. I looked up at her and felt a rush of emotions.

"I didn't know you were so easy to read," I said as I leaned even closer to her, this time the tiny distance between us was nothing but air. I couldn't help but feel that feeling building inside me again as I watched her face grow redder and redder as it appeared to be a little closer every time. "I'm sure most guys would be more than happy to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”

“Are you most guys? Should I be worried? I'm not a one-and-done girl, Joel…” she said, showing insecurity for what seems to be the first time. As she asked me if I was 'most guys', I couldn't help but feel my heart sink for a brief second as I heard her insecurity, but I quickly recovered and smiled as I looked down at her. My hands slowly wrapped around her waist as I leaned even closer. "Oh please, you think I'm going to leave someone as beautiful and kind as you just like that. You aren't a one-and-done girl, you're... you're an angel." I slowly leaned forward so our faces were just a hair's width apart. I gazed into her eyes, lost in the moment, when she suddenly exclaimed, "An Angel?" Her voice was soft, yet full of wonder, as if she had just seen something magical. She was so close to me that I could feel her breath on my face, and I couldn't help but notice the way her face immediately flushed up with red. Her eyes quickly looked down, as if to distract herself from her sudden burst of emotion.

I kept looking at her, waiting for her to look back up at me. I leaned down just a bit more, my heart racing with anticipation, as my lips were barely an inch from hers when she finally decided to look back up. I couldn't help but feel the surge of joy rushing through my body as I saw the way her eyes slowly opened and she looked back up to face me.

The way her cheeks were still flushed and the shy, but happy look on her face was exactly what I needed. It was the perfect moment as I leaned in for the kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and simple embrace, and I felt a warmth spread through my body. It was like time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in the world except for that moment. I held her close as we kissed, and I knew deep down inside that this was the start of something special.

The kiss started gentle but with each second that passed it started to become more intense. The heat of her body and the way her hands ran through my hair was making my heart skip a few beats as I started to wish I could pull her into an even deeper kiss. I didn't want to overwhelm her though so I tried to keep it simple, although it was hard to keep my hands from finding every part of her body that I could. She's not someone who wants a one-time thing and I'll do everything I can to make sure she doesn't think all I want is sex.

We disengaged when we heard her front door slam shut. "That's my dad!" she exclaimed, her urgency evident. "He can't know you're here." She swiftly rose, pulling me up with her, both of us breaking away from the kiss as she hurried us along. Her pace was so brisk that it took a moment for me to catch on before I scrambled up. "Why can't he know I'm here?" I whispered, trying to avoid any noise as her dad ascended the stairs.

"Because he'll flip if he finds a guy in my room. Though, it's not like it's the first time I've had a guy over," she rushed, steering us towards her bedroom window. "Seriously? You've done this before?" I questioned? but that conversation could wait as we reached her bedroom window, which she promptly opened, urging me outside.

"Well, there was this one time Dad caught me, and he nearly lost it. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he dropped it," she explained hurriedly, her insistence on getting me out the window starting to concern me. I trusted she knew what she was doing, but I wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

"Are you seriously making me climb out your window?" I protested.

"Don't be a wimp. You'll be fine. You're not the first guy I've had over," she reassured, though her words didn't ease my nerves. The distance from her window to the ground seemed to grow as she tugged me closer to the edge.

As I began to climb out, my foot slipped, and I fell with a hard thud and a loud squeak.

Despite the throbbing pain in my ankle, the walk home afforded me ample time to ponder, and my thoughts continuously circled back to her. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right, as if she was keeping something from me. If she's had numerous guys over before, why the sudden worry about her dad catching her? Was I just another casual fling to her? My mind brimmed with inquiries for my elusive "little miss pipedream."

[inlovewithrain]

Hopper was always suspicious of Eddie Munson.

He'd caught the boy drinking, partying, and doing drugs more than he could count.

Which is why he does NOT approve of Eddie hanging out with Steve.

In fact, Hopper often comes home to see Steve, Eddie, and El sitting on the couch, watching TV, Steve and Eddie huddled together, Steve's hand resting on Eddie's chest, and Eddie is grabbed by the collar and shoved out the house by Hopper.

It doesn't end there.

"Where's Steve?" Hopper asks El, who stares up at him innocently.

"Him and Eddie are studying in his room." El says, slowly backing towards the freezer, pulling out the Eggos slowly.

Hopper practically goes running, slamming the door open to reveal Steve and Eddie on his bed, Steve in Eddie's lap as Eddie squeezes his ass, their mouths slotting together.

Hopper's eye twitches as Eddie basically throws Steve off him and rushes to explain.

"W-We were just studying, Hop, honest! Okay, we did get a bit carried away, b-but like.. shit happens! I promise-"

"Munson!" Hopper yells, and Eddie goes silent. "Out! Right now! Out where you came from!"

Hopper can't even be surprised when Eddie reopens the window and attempts to climb out, Steve spluttering as he avoids laughing while Hopper sighs and pulls Eddie away, ignoring the wide array of hickeys on his neck.

"The door, Munson." Hopper adds, and Eddie's mouth quirks into a small 'O' before he practically runs out the room, the front door slamming shut a few moments later.

When Hopper gets a dispatch of a noise complaint about the Munson's house, Hopper thinks he can't hate Eddie more.

Whilst kicking out what had to be at least a hundred Hawkins High students, Hopper sighed before yelling out for Eddie, who Hopper hadn't seen at all since he'd practically stormed in.

A sob echoed throughout the house and everything came rushing to Hopper. He'd heard that sob before. It was Steve's.

It all slotted in place.

He was going to kill Eddie if he did anything to Steve.

He ran though the house like a madman, until he stopped at what had to be Eddie's bedroom, and slowly cracked the door opened, to reveal Eddie and Steve sitting down on the bed, Steve's head hidden in Eddie's shoulder as he sat on top of him, Eddie's hands rubbing his back.

Hopper almost walked in when Eddie spoke up.

"Shh, you're fine, sugar." Eddie mumbled, pressing a small kiss on Steve's forehead.

"I'm sorry, Eds." Steve whispered, sounding completely wrecked. "I've fucked up, I-I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't say that." Eddie soothed as Steve let out a heartbreaking sob.

"It-It's my fault!" He sobbed, hands clutching Eddie's shirt like a lifeline. "I ruined it, I ruined it, Eddie, I'm sorry-"

"Stop it, baby, stop. It's not your fault. I didn't- I didn't think."

"I'm so-so stupid." Steve whispered. "I ruined our night."

"Steve, look at me." Eddie ordered, as Steve sniffed. "Just because you called safeword doesn't mean you ruined it. It's not your fault, okay? I should've.. I should've asked you-"

"No!" Steve said. "Not your fault. You didn't know."

"Okay, princess. It's nobody's fault, m'kay?" Eddie said, and Hopper's heart practically fluttered.

Maybe Eddie Munson wasn't that bad.

"Where's your meds, love?"

"Left pocket, Teddy." Steve whispered, as Eddie dug into Steve's pockets before setting him down on the bed, pulling up the covers till his chin, grabbing the glass from the bedside and pulling out a pill.

"Here, pumpkin." Eddie said, as Steve took them with a giggle. "What's so funny, huh?"

"Nothing." Steve said, grabbing Eddie and pulling him down under the covers and snuggling him. "Love you, Eddybear."

"Love you too, Stevie." Eddie whispered as Hopper gently closed the door and turned back to leave.

Eddie and Wayne were invited to dinner next Friday.

[p1nkpeanuts]

Hello hello I'm your friendly neighbourhood ghost and I am a collector of spooky tales, folklore, Urban legends, cryptids and spooky experiences and I was wondering if you want to share your favourite one?

I hope you are having a wonderful day and I really love the blog vibes 💕

Okay but get ready cause it's a doozy!

So I used to live in a party house with a bunch of friends for like 3 years. It was a pretty normal house, except there was one "bedroom" that could literally only fit a twin bed and it had no windows, and we would hear noises from it every now and again. My one friends bedroom was right next to the room and he heard the most, sometimes scratching on the wall, sometimes voices.

It started escalating with more noises around the house, things like footsteps (sometimes running), lights turning on and off, and things going missing around the house. We were all skeptics, so we thought maybe someone was squatting in the attic, so the bravest of us (definitely not me) took a look up there, and no one to be found. We had no explanation.

One day while cleaning out the garage I found a huge old oil painting of a Buddhist temple (which was kind of odd because we live in a prairie province in canada) in front of a sunset. It was gorgeous and the owner we were renting from had no knowledge of it but said I was welcome to keep it, so I hung it up in my bedroom. That's when it all started to go sideways.

One night most of us were asleep except for the newest member of the house family. She was hanging out in the kitchen when all of a sudden she heard a constant knocking on the coffee table in the living room. She went to investigate, but as soon as she walked into the room it stopped, and all the cupboards in the kitchen slammed closed all at once (worth noting: none of them had been open before she got there) waking up the whole house. My friend ran to my bedroom in fear. We all stayed up together for a while waiting for something else to happen but that was it for the night.

A few weeks went by and my friends dad was staying with us for a week. While he was with us he slept in her room while she slept on the couch in the living room. I was checking the mail when I got home (I worked late) and woke her up by accident. While we talked we heard some sounds from right below us (right below us being the creepy tiny windowless room in the basement). I said "wouldn't it be crazy if I could get a response with a knock". So I knocked to the tune of "shave and a haircut" leaving out the last two knocks, and it knocked back, completing the tune. We both freaked out but at that point we had grown used to the antics of our otherworldly house tenants.

As time went on less and less people lived in the house till eventually I was the last tenant. I had plans to leave soon as I couldn't afford the rent and it was genuinely unsettling being there alone.

On one of my final nights there, I was alone playing some video games in my bedroom. I had all the lights on in the house ( for my own comfort), and I felt genuinely ok. Then I felt a sudden sense of dread, and all the lights in the hall switched off, leaving me in darkness with only the light of the TV. I heard the sound of heavy footsteps walking up the stairs, approaching the open door to my bedroom. They stopped right outside my bedroom, and I could feel a large menacing presence staring at me. I started to cry from fear and called my girlfriend at the time. I was a mess on the phone and she tried her best to calm my fears, but it just wouldn't leave. Then the next moment the lights all switched back on, and I felt the pressure in the room ease. It was gone. That was the last night I stayed in that house. I slept at friends' places till my lease was up and packed my things during the day. The only other night spent on the property, a friend and I camped out in the backyard.

I've only gone back once to get my mail, but the worst choice was keeping the painting. I put it in to storage for years. There is more to the story but I'll leave it there for now. Hope you enjoy my tale of terror!

[vidavalor]

Jim's Bedroom

I'm really still not over the dollhouse bed in "Jim's Bedroom"-- a bed and a room that seem to exist basically for the possibility that the higher up angels ever show up and demand an embassy tour. Especially Sandalphon and ones like him.

In tone, Aziraphale would be like yes and here's my fake, human-like bedroom, which I never really use, of course, because I'm an angel-- why would I ever need it? It's mainly in case some human has a fainting spell in the shop and needs to lie down. Must be practical and look normal to the humans to maintain my bookselling human cover, of course!

Speaking of human-sized people, this bed is rather tiny, don't you all think? SO VERY TINY! Even beds back in the day weren't all this tiny! Doesn't even fit a human-sized adult human-shaped being! If I sneezed, I'd fall out of it, haha! It definitely couldn't fit, say, a red-headed demon who is six feet something of legs! He's even too long for this thing in snake form-- I mean, I imagine! For sure, it definitely could not fit *both* of us-- why would you even think such a thing?!

No time for lovers, me-- and *never* a demon, that's absurd! Especially that wily one! I live to thwart him, as you can see! Just out here, doing the good work of spreading the ineffable lunacy of The Lord! There is definitely not a room in this shop-- like, say, the one next door at the more convenient spot of the top of the stairs-- that is *actually* my bedroom and which contains a bed that very comfortably fits two adult-sized human-shaped supernatural entities-- why would you even ask?!

Right, down we go, kindly make a right around the back side of the bookshelves that hide the theatrical curtains and practice space for my secret human magic hobby... oh, that room in the back?

That's one of our gigantic storage closets of a room where Crowley and I have been stockpiling furniture and other material objects we like for years out of hope that one day we might have our own home that isn't a bookshop hiding an embassy hiding a house... our little pipe dream, never you mind... and, now we're back at the front door! Kindly hopefully continue to not realize that I designed this place so that you can't see Crowley's couch or our dining table from the entry space in front of the cashwrap threshold and have a heavenly day!

Humorous aspects to this aside? Jim's Bedroom is psychologically really interesting...

With all of Aziraphale's Heavenly angst, it's easy to wonder if he doesn't actually use the room sometimes, either in past nights alone or in that time between Crowley leaving and the sun coming up.

Style-wise, it's extremely unlikely that the oak wall unit against the wall on the left was ever first Aziraphale's; it more than likely was in Crowley's flat at one point. It doesn't go at all with the cherry mahogany bureau pushed up in front of it, which either of them could have owned. The bureau is positioned to block the part of the oak wall unit where a tv would go and just keep open the bookshelves, which is also how Aziraphale is using the shelf space on the wall between the oak unit and the desk. While Aziraphale watches tv, this room isn't built for that kind of cozy lounging, so there's no need for that side of the tv cabinet-- but he always has need for more book storage so that he's using the space for that makes the room feel a little more thought-through and lived-in than it might otherwise. Yet, at the same time? None of this matches the way the downstairs does and it's all just sort of clumped together, indicating he also doesn't value it as much as other spaces in the bookshop.

Since Aziraphale wears the same outer outfit everyday, he needs a bureau more than he needs a closet-- though there is a little closet to the right of the bed. Probably keeps some shirts in there. There's the reddish reading chair and lamp by the window that Crowley moves to when he and Gabriel talk about Gabriel's memory. They are probably used more than the bed. The bed is also small enough that the blanket over it could be used like a throw in the chair without a lot of fuss.

It kind of feels like maybe, on nights when on his own or after Crowley leaves sometime before dawn, Aziraphale might find his real bedroom hard to be in alone and, if feeling a bit angsty, will come into this room to use the fake bedroom as his real bedroom for awhile. I'm not sure that Jim could have made the cluttered mess on the desk that we see in so short a time and the room being painted Crowley's Eyes Yellow and the bed blanket being red and like the pattern of his desk chair downstairs makes it kind of seem that Aziraphale wanted to feel wrapped up in some Crowley in the space to make it more comforting to him, since "Jim's Bedroom"-- part of the shop that Aziraphale himself designed-- represents a lot of conflict for him.

Is Aziraphale coming into this room a lot in the time before dawn when it's dark enough that Crowley has left but not yet light enough that he can pretend it's morning? When it's too hard to stay in his real bed because it feels too big when Crowley's gone and is just a reminder of what Aziraphale tells himself is his failure to come up with anything better than the bookshop compromise for a way for them to be safe and together? Is the dollhouse bed also a subconscious form of self-punishment in a way? How much time does he spend in here in the pre-dawn hours, telling himself he'll get in some reading time or update his journal or take a little nap in the bed, only to feel more anxious by the minute in there and relieved when it becomes light enough that he feels he can don his daytime house sweater, make his morning tea, and start his day?

[daechwitatamic]

XI. All of It || KNJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns, eventual and brief smut

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

Being away from home for Christmas makes you re-evaluate the choices you’ve made, and the people you’ve pushed away.

Section Warnings: language, drinking, kissing, one pov switch, big time jumps

WC: 8k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday December 24th

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Namjoon asks you for the ninetieth time. 

“Namjoon, go,” you laugh. Mrs. Kim is running out to get a few last second groceries, but insists that you stay at the house to “rest”, instead recruiting her son to help her carry everything home. “She’s waiting for you!”

“You could tag along,” he offers. “I know she told you to stay, but she’s not that scary! You can disobey!”

“I absolutely cannot,” you tell him seriously. “It’s fine - you’ll be gone, what, an hour? I can entertain myself.”

He sighs, like he hopes you’re right. “Okay. I’ll try to hurry her along so we’re back sooner.” 

You stretch to kiss him goodbye, and watch as he exits through the kitchen door, loping around the house to where Mrs. Kim waits for him. Then, alone in the kitchen, you face the silence and stillness. 

This is fine, you think. It’s a moment where you don’t have to be on in front of strangers, a moment where you don’t have to watch what you say because his family is forming their impression of you. You stand there for a minute, palms on the cool countertop, just breathing. 

Then, from the other room, you hear something: the unmistakable sound of the opening lines of your favorite, cheesiest Christmas movie. 

You creep to the doorway of the living room. The second he sees you in his periphery, Mr. Kim jumps a mile and scrambles for the remote, rushing to change the channel.

“I’m sorry!” you call, trying to bite back laughter. “I didn’t mean to interrupt - I’ll go do something else!”

His cover blown, he stops scrambling. On the tv screen, a team of flying reindeer pull Santa’s sleigh across the moon as the opening credits run. Mr. Kim hangs his head in shame.

“I will never hear the end of it if they find out I’m watching this,” he tells you. 

“This is my favorite one,” you tell him honestly. “So if you want to leave it on for a while… I promise to take the secret to my grave.”

You sit in comfortable silence in a plushy, blue chair next to the couch, enjoying a garbage holiday indulgence, listening to the crackling fireplace, and watching the snow flurries out the window. And, true to your word, when you hear the front door unlocked, you pull out your phone like you’ve been doom-scrolling for an hour while Mr. Kim turns on the news station.

–

That night you accompany the family to Namjoon’s uncle’s house. It’s big, and bright, and loud, and full of screaming little cousins running underfoot, and aunts that shriek and hug you when Namjoon introduces you as his girlfriend.

���Our Joonie!” one aunt cries, pulling him sideways away from you like that will stop you from hearing her. “She’s beautiful!”

Namjoon winks at you, and tells her, “Smarter than me, too.”

Later, you catch some air together outside. 

“I am not smarter than you,” you tell him adamantly. 

“We can agree to disagree,” he murmurs into your mouth, because he’s already kissing you. 

“Merry Christmas,” he tells you when you break apart, his voice low and soothing, warm and loving. “I’m really glad you’re here with me.”

“Yeah,” you say, snuggling closer into his embrace. Snow falls lightly, as it has on and off all day, landing on your dark winter jackets. “I am, too.”

Monday December 25th

Christmas Day is bittersweet. 

The morning is lovely; Namjoon and his parents exchange a few small gifts and you bat away Mrs. Kim’s apologies that she has nothing for you.

“We keep telling you,” Namjoon laughs, his feet in huge, fluffy slippers that his parents got him, “just send us home with food. Neither of us can cook, it’s a miracle we haven’t starved.”

“Don’t say that to your mother, she’ll worry,” Mr. Kim chides. 

You glance at the clock and notice that it’s about the time that Lin would be getting home from work. Impulsively, you excuse yourself and step back into the guest room, closing the door nearly all the way and pulling out your phone.

Lin answers on the second ring. “Everything okay?” she greets you.

It makes your heart a little heavier. It doesn’t even occur to her that you might be calling just to say Merry Christmas.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you assure her. “I just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas before you went to bed.”

“Oh.” She sounds surprised. “Well, Merry Christmas to you, too. And your boyfriend. Are you having fun?”

You’d shrug if she could see you. “They’ve been really nice,” you tell her. You hesitate, then say, “Hopefully you’ll meet them someday.”

“Sure, at the wedding,” Lin jokes. “You’ve always been so private!”

You’re not sure what to say to this. You know it’s true. You never shared much with her, never had a big group of girlfriends to tell things to. It was always just you and Taehyung.

Now you’re sad for two reasons.

Somehow, Lin seems to read your mind through the phone. “Is it weird not having Christmas with Taehyung’s family?” she asks.

“I was trying not to think about it,” you admit, and she laughs.

“I’m sure they miss you!” she says. “I’ll tell them hello - I see his mom all over town. I’m sure it was weird for him to come home without you. Do you think he’s jealous that your boyfriend gets your attention now?”

She’s joking, but she’s spearheaded the truth so perfectly that it knocks your breath out. 

She interprets your silence correctly and the teasing vanishes instantly. “Oh, honey,” she says, voice full of regret. “I didn’t know you were going through that. Are you, like, actually fighting? What happened?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “We… aren’t speaking right now,” you admit, your voice tight. “But could we talk about it another time? They’re all waiting for me out there and I don’t want to get all upset…”

“Sure, sure,” she says quickly. “But Y/N? Taehyung loves you - he’s been your best friend for so long. He’ll adjust. It’ll be okay. Alright?”

That’s all it takes to set you off - just her kindness, her reassurance. As you tell her thank you, and goodbye, you’re choking back tears, trying to get it together. As you hang up, you feel - for the first time maybe ever - like you actually miss her. 

You and Namjoon spend the afternoon reading on the couch together, your feet on his lap. His parents tut and whisper that there’s two of him now, and you can’t help but smile. 

Late in the afternoon, you glance at your phone, tempted to text Taehyung Merry Christmas. You’ve never had one without him before, except for the year he had the flu. In the end, you slide your phone back into your pocket, screen still locked. 

Tuesday December 26th

You and Namjoon decide to head back a day early once the weather reports start forecasting an actual blizzard. 

His parents are disappointed, but understand. Namjoon’s dad warms up the car, idling in the driveway while you two collect your bags and zip your coats. Namjoon steps out ahead of you, and you can see past him that the clouds are low and gray, the air feeling like impending snow. 

Mrs. Kim calls you back by your name, and you hesitate, turning to see what she needs. She shuffles in from the kitchen, a reusable grocery bag in her hands, laden with leftovers. She pushes it into your hands wordlessly.

“Thank you,” you tell her enthusiastically, eyeing the number of containers she’s crammed in there. “We’ll eat well for at least a week. Thank you so much.”

She keeps her hands on the bag’s handles for a second longer, not allowing you to pull away. She opens her mouth, then hesitates, like trying to decide how to say what she wants to say.

“I hope you’ll come back soon,” she says finally. “If you need help with… cooking, or… if you need someone to talk to… I hope you’ll come to see me as someone you can reach out to.”

Tears well in your eyes and you blink them away quickly, embarrassed, as she finally releases her hold on the bags.

“Thank you,” you tell her, your voice a little choked. “And thank you for letting me stay here. I appreciate it… so much.”

On the train, Namjoon bumps his knee against yours. “You’re quiet,” he says, a loving accusation.

You sigh. “Your family’s awesome,” you tell him.

Understanding, he takes your hand and gives it a squeeze. “Come home with me any time,” he says. “They’d love it. And so would I.”

You watch the countryside roll by in silence for a while. You’re almost drifting off when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Then again, and then again.

[10:51 AM] Taehyung: my mom says merry christmas  [10:51 AM] Taehyung: i missed you during the drive home [10:52 AM] Taehyung: i miss you now, at home [10:52 AM] Taehyung: we’ve always spent christmas together  [10:52 AM] Taehyung: the guys said you’re with namjoons family [10:52 AM] Taehyung: i’m glad you weren’t alone. I would have felt even worse [10:53 AM] Taehyung: i know i said it a lot of times, but i’ll say it again. i am SO sorry for what i did [10:54 AM] Taehyung: can we talk when i get back to campus? Like… actually talk?

You turn the screen and nudge Namjoon’s elbow, letting him lean over to read it. You feel… kind of empty. 

“I think he means it,” Namjoon murmurs. 

You press your lips together, clutch the phone so tight your knuckles turn white. 

“I think he does, too,” you agree finally.

“You gonna talk to him?” Namjoon asks. 

“I don’t know,” you whisper. You turn the screen off and slide your phone back into your pocket, the messages unanswered. “I’ll think about it.”

An hour later, as the train rolls past campus, your heart clenches as you catch glimpses of the places you’d spent with Taehyung the last few years - the dorms, the academic building, the football field. You pull your phone back out, feeling something inside you crack and break. 

That something might have been your pride, your hurt feelings, your tightly-clutched anger.

[12:04 PM] You: merry christmas to you and your family, tae

[12:07 PM] You: yeah… let’s talk when you get back

Friday December 29th

“Did you know that you’re the warmest person on the planet?” you ask. 

“I think you mean hottest,” Namjoon jokes.

You’re wrapped up together, in his bed this time, as you’ve been for most of Christmas week. The blizzard came and went without incident for the two of you - you stayed inside, comfy and warm, reading together, eating food that only needs to be microwaved, and talking - about his book, about your upcoming classes, about the beautiful snow coating everything outside.

About your upcoming conversation with Taehyung. 

There’s something you don’t talk about, though - your niggling feelings that you owe Lin more, like you have something to make up for for bailing on going home. 

“I can mean both if it makes you feel better,” you tease back. “But right now, I really mean warmest.”

“I’m sticking with hottest,” he says, eyes closed happily.

You’re quiet for a few minutes, just listening to him breathe, just reveling in feeling happy and safe and - yes - warm. 

“Joon?” you murmur.

“Mmm?” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“Wanted to ask you something.”

Now he peeks at you, curious at your sudden meekness. “What is it?”

You wiggle your toes in discomfort. Namjoon waits you out, like he always does. 

“I was thinking about how I left Lin alone this week,” you say slowly. “I mean, she’s always alone. It’s not, like, my job to make sure she’s not lonely.”

Namjoon says your name quietly, disarmingly, a reminder that you don’t need to jump to defensiveness - not with him.

You sigh. “I feel bad,” you admit. “So I was thinking about going home on the train for New Years? And, um, no pressure, but if you want to come with me –”

“Of course I do,” he says immediately, not even letting you finish. “Of course I’ll go with you.” He laughs, once. “Honestly, I’m honored. Have you ever brought a guy home before?”

You hide your face, blushing and fighting a smile. “Literally never.”

He grins at you, and you press a kiss to the dimple closest. 

“Sounds fun,” he says. “When do you want to go?”

“Sunday, maybe?” you suggest. “New Years Eve day?”

“That’s fine,” he says, eyes on the ceiling as he flips through his mental calendar. “You gonna give your aunt a heads up?”

In the end you text Lin and Taehyung the same thing - “coming home Sunday for new years. See you then?”

Sunday December 31st 

The train ride to your hometown is significantly quicker than Namjoon’s was. Somehow, you feel even more nervous this time than you did on your way to meet his parents. You’re not sure if your nerves are for introducing Namjoon to Lin, or for talking to Taehyung again after what a disaster it was last time.

Both, probably. 

“What if he pulls some shit again?” you ask out of nowhere, the question that’s burning under your skin finally breaking free.

Namjoon grimaces. “I’ll be there this time.”

You sigh, frustrated. “And that’s fine for in the moment, but I’m more worried about like… the long-term. If he acts like an idiot again, where do we go from there? Do I just just not talk to him for another week until he’s sorry again? Is it a cycle? Or do I cut him out completely and just… give up on the friendship?”

Namjoon’s grimace doesn’t waver. “I think that’s up to him. And you,” he says gently. 

You let out a slow breath. 

“I wish I knew what to mentally prepare for,” you admit, huffing out a quiet laugh.

“Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it,” he promises, and you appreciate the gesture. But it isn’t the same for him, and you know it. Taehyung’s his friend, sure, but it’s very not-the-same.

“Anyway,” you say, trying to give yourself a mental shake. “I’m excited to bring you home. I’ll focus on that.”

“I’m more nervous about that part,” he admits with a smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You sit like that for the rest of the trip, leaning into his embrace. 

Lin’s house is walkable from the train station if you know the shortcut through a broken chain-link fence - which, luckily, you do. You let yourself in the front door with the key you keep, both of you kicking off your shoes and leaving your suitcases in the narrow entryway. 

You enter the small living room first, Namjoon behind you trying to get his boot off of his foot. Lin gets up from the couch with a smile, coming to give you a hug.

“How was the ride?” she asks, starting to pull away. 

You start to answer her, when her face suddenly changes as she sees Namjoon come through the doorway behind you. Her smile drops, her face goes pale, and - completely inexplicably - she starts to tear up, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

Adrenaline and alarm rush through you.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, “I should have warned you I was bringing Namjoon. It was kind of a surprise. Shit, Lin, are you mad? We can get a hotel room for him instead –”

“I’m not mad,” she manages, wiping under her eyes. “I’m happy. I never thought - Honey, it’s so nice to meet you.” 

She’s moving around you and hugging Namjoon, who looks at you with comically wide eyes over her shoulder.

She lets him go, sniffling a little, pulling back to get a good look at him. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Namjoon says awkwardly. “If it’s too late notice for me to stay here, I understand –”

“No, no,” she says quickly. “It’s fine. It’s wonderful.” She turns her teary gaze back to you.

You’ve never seen Lin cry, never in your life - not even over Grandma. 

“It’s just,” she says, clearly trying to get her voice under control, “Y/N’s never brought home a partner before. You barely even brought home friends. As you grew up… it felt like you were pushing this place away, rejecting it as a home - like you didn’t consider it a place worth bringing the people who were important to you.”

This floors you, knocks you right out. You take a deep breath, try to still your shaking hands. You turn to Namjoon. “The guest room is through that door off the kitchen,” you tell him. “Do you want to bring your bag in?”

He gives you a long, searching look - like he’s trying to figure out if you’re okay, like he’s trying to figure out if it’s okay to leave you on your own.

But it is. This time, it is.

You give him a reassuring little nod, and he gives you the tiniest hint of a smile back before going to get his suitcase from where he’d abandoned it in the entryway. He wheels it past you, through the kitchen and you turn back to Lin, who’s wiping furiously under her eyes.

“Lin,” you say quietly. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She sniffs again, working hard to get it together. “I understood,” she says kindly. “Things were so hard for you. I could understand it if you took your anger at your situation out that way.”

“It wasn’t that,” you say, trying to explain. “It was just… the only person who was important to me was already here.”

Her eyes flash to the living room’s front window, which looks out to the street - where, across the pavement, you can see the corner of Taehyung’s house. Then her gaze flits back to you.

“I see,” she says somberly. Then she brightens. “But not anymore, huh? Now you have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” you say, eyes on the doorway where Namjoon had disappeared with his bag. You can’t fight your smile. “Apparently I do.”

She squeals a little and pulls you back into another hug. “I can’t wait to get to know him,” she tells you. “I hope you two will come around a lot more.”

You’re reminded of Namjoon’s mom saying the same thing. It feels… strange - to have homes waiting for you, with people wanting to see you. It’s something you hadn’t ever really felt, growing up. 

For the first time, you’re starting to see family as something you have to build. 

“By the way,” Lin says, glancing at the clock, “are you two having dinner at the Kims with me tonight? If so, I’d better tell her to add a place at the table for your man.”

“Oh my God,” you say, laughing, covering your face. “Don’t call him that.”

“Dinner at the Kims?” Namjoon asks, finally deciding it’s safe to come back now that you’re done hugging. “Tonight?”

“Just across the street,” she tells him. “I have work tonight, so unfortunately I’ll have to leave around ten. Are you joining? Or are you and Taehyung…?”

You shrug. “He texted. We’re supposed to talk. Maybe tonight’s a good chance for that.”

She reaches out and squeezes your shoulder. “I like the sound of that. Start the New Year off with a clean slate.”

You like the sound of that a lot, too. You really, really hope that’s what the night will bring.

“We’ll go,” you say, looking up at Namjoon for confirmation. He nods, like he doesn’t care what you do as long as you’re together. Which… is probably exactly what he thinks. “Right?”

“Sure,” he says easily, reaching out to grab your hand. “What’s for dinner?”

–

Tons is the answer to that question. Taehyung’s mother cooks for the six of you like she’s cooking for twenty. 

Lin leads you into the house, calling cheerful hellos. You hug Taehyung’s parents happily, then step back, meeting your best friend’s eyes for the first time in almost three weeks. He chews his lip nervously, gives you a tiny nod. You return it. Behind you, Namjoon is shaking Mr. Kim’s hand, introducing himself.

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “Mr. and Mrs. Kim, this is my boyfriend, Namjoon. He’s a grad student at the university.”

Mrs. Kim and Lin head into the kitchen and Mr. Kim heads for his study down the hall, leaving the three of you alone in the living room. 

Awkward silence echoes.

Taehyung breaks the silence first, addressing Namjoon. “You want a beer?”

Namjoon eyes him for a minute, jaw clenched. For a scary second, you think he’s actually going to tell Taehyung to go fuck himself. Then, he unclenches, twists his mouth to the side like he’s thinking, and nods.

“Sure,” he says. “A beer would be great. And maybe one for Y/N, too?” 

“Yes, please,” you say, flashing Taehyung a thankful grin. When Taehyung returns, holding out the bottles to you, you take them, feeling… hopeful. It’s just a beer, sure, but it feels like a peace offering. It feels like everything might actually be okay. 

–

Dinner is delicious, and somehow not awkward. Taehyung’s mother has always doted on you, so she peppers you with questions - about school, your thesis, about how you and Namjoon got together. You’re afraid it will be weird, but while Taehyung doesn’t contribute to this part of the conversation, he listens attentively. You realize he probably didn’t know the story, himself. 

When ten o’clock rolls around, you hug Lin goodbye at the door - something new for both of you.

“This year’s gonna be better for us,” she promises you in a whisper. “I can already tell.”

You nod against her shoulder, then wish her a safe drive. 

–

“Five… four… three… two… one! Happy New Years!”

Everyone in the room cheers, Taehyung blowing into a noisy paper horn. Namjoon’s eyes glitter, and then he tugs you closer by the waist, kissing you soundly. Somebody - Mrs. Kim, you suspect - whistles and you feel yourself blush. Your happy, bashful laugh breaks the kiss, and he squeezes your waist once as you break away. 

You grin up at him, so happy you could burst from it. It’s hard to believe that four months ago you were strangers, tip-toeing around each other at home.  It’s hard to believe that four months ago you couldn’t shelter in his arms, listen to his heartbeat, tell him every stupid thought you have.

The Kims have huddled noisily on the other side of the room, giving you two a little privacy for a moment, so you take the opportunity to press yourself closer to Namjoon. You stretch onto your toes, your lips close to his ear, and whisper, “Looking forward to this year of loving you, Joon.”

His arms tighten around you and you swear you hear his breath catch.

Then, he nuzzles his face in his hair, whispering back, “I love you.”

You hold him tight, swaying a little, your heart soaring and soaring. You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy in your life.

–

Tae’s parents go to bed shortly after midnight, and you’re eager to leave, too - your house across the street is empty tonight, after all. 

Taehyung walks you two to the front door. Namjoon steps out first, heading down to the grassy yard. Taehyung calls your name from the top step, and you hesitate. 

“Can… could we talk now?” he asks, voice small. “Like… alone?”

Two steps down from you, Namjoon mutters something that sounds an awful lot like audacity. 

“I’m all ears,” you say. 

Taehyung flushes, his chest going dark and patchy above the collar, the way it does when he’s upset. “Listen,” he says, “I know what I did was really fucked up. I want to apologize - to both of you. I really am… so goddamn sorry.”

“I appreciate that,” Namjoon says evenly, voice low. There’s something hot about how he says it, and you feel a tingle and a thrill. You want to take his hand and drag him home.

“I…” Taehuyng falters, his eyes on you. “I really do want to talk to you about everything. And… it’s hard. Right? It’s not just me? I think I’ll… do a better job saying what I mean if it’s just us.”

You frown, but the truth is you understand. For your whole lives, it had been the two of you. You speak your own language with each other. What he’s trying to tell you is he can be more authentic if he isn’t trying to communicate in a way that lets Namjoon in, too. 

You look at Namjoon to gauge how he feels about this. He looks back at you, face unreadable. Your choice, the blankness tells you.

“We stay right here,” you say, pointing at the steps. 

“That’s fine,” Taehyung says eagerly, like he can’t believe you agreed. 

You look at Namjoon again, and he nods. “I’ll be over there,” he says, nodding at your house. “You know where to find me.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell him, a little devious. “I definitely plan to come find you.”

His smile back is wicked as he turns and lopes across the yard, disappearing into the dark.

You wait for him to start, to say what he wants to say, but he just looks at you. In the dark, his eyes look almost black.

“Okay,” you say finally. “I’m here to talk. So let’s talk.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, like it’s bursting from him, like he was waiting for permission to unleash it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that to you.”

You press your lips together and look away, shove down the wave of emotion - fresh anger, deep hurt. “So why did you?” you manage. 

“I could see myself losing you all semester,” he admits. His voice trembles, just slightly. “I could see it happening little by little and I couldn’t figure out why and I felt so… frozen… I didn’t know how to pull you back without crossing any lines with you…” He rubs a hand over his face, inhales roughly. “When I found out you were in love with Namjoon, it’s like my brain went into this panic state and my body just reacted and did the only thing it could think of that might stop you from walking away.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. Angry tears string at your eyes, their tracks suddenly warm on your cheeks. Your voice shakes when you mutter, “That’s so fucked up, Taehyung. I don’t deserve that.”

“I know,” he says, rubbing a hand down his face again. His shoulders shake, barely noticeable, before he pulls it together to continue. “Of course you don’t. I just… wanted you to stay. I don’t know… how to live a life that isn’t… half yours.” His sentence is punctuated with long sniffs, hurried swipes under eyes - for both of you.

You hate it, but you know exactly what he means. You hadn’t known how to live a life that wasn’t half his, either. But you’d learned - you have to build it yourself. It doesn’t come out of nowhere. 

“Tae…” you say, sniffing once more and trying to take a steadying breath. “That stuff you said to Namjoon…”

He hangs his head, exhaling, the sound whispery and warbling. “He really just pissed me off,” he admits, not looking at you. “But, for a second, I really did wonder…”

You can see exactly what’s coming and you brace yourself, wondering how bad this next admission will hurt.

“Of course I love you,” he says, looking up at you. He’s not crying, now. Instead, he looks at you so seriously, like he’s got to see your reaction, to know you hear him. “You’re my best friend. There was really a minute there where I wondered if my way of loving you could really be that different from…”

From your way of loving me. He doesn't need to say it.

It doesn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would.

“The answer to that,” you say dryly, “is yes, very.”

He nods, acknowledging this. “And,” he admits, voice going quiet with shame, “I think a little part of me was trying to hurt you back. When I found out you’d been getting serious with him and keeping it from me… that hurt, you not telling me. You and me… we don’t lie to each other, and we don’t keep secrets.”

You scoff. “That’s bullshit, Taehyung. We’ve been doing both for… years.”

The silence stretches between you as he considers the truth of these words. His gaze drops to the ground. 

“I guess you’re right,” he says sadly, like he hates that it’s true. “Things have been fucked up between us for a long time now. And… I’m sorry for that, too. I’m sorry for being a terrible friend - this year, and all these years. I shouldn’t have let you… keep hurting. I think I was lying to myself about… how you felt. If I didn’t address it, if I didn’t technically know, then I didn’t have to do anything about it. And if I didn’t do anything about it, I couldn’t risk doing the wrong thing.”

You take in his explanation, your arms crossed over your chest. It doesn’t make things okay, it doesn’t absolve him. But you can understand. You’d been afraid to rock the boat, too. 

You two should have talked years ago.

“How long have you known?” you ask quietly.

He makes an unhappy noise. “Ah. We don’t have to do that.”

“I just want to know.”

He sighs. “Since high school, I guess?”

You look away, letting out another bitter laugh. “That’s a long time.”

“I guess I thought if I never looked directly at it, then nothing between us would change,” he explains. 

“It had to,” you say firmly. That’s the truest thing you can say right now.

“I know that,” Taehyung says, exhaling. “I know that, now.”

You’re both quiet for a minute. You shiver a little, wonder if Namjoon is okay over at Lin’s house.

“These last two years were hard,” Taehyung says suddenly, like now that he’s opened the tap he can’t stop the flow of words, can’t stop spilling every truth. “I stopped knowing… how to be your friend. I didn't know where the line was - I didn't know what would hurt you, what would mess with your head when I was just being me, just being us.”

“We need new boundaries,” you say quietly. 

He nods, agreeing. “It won’t be easy,” he sighs. “Because… well, it can’t be the same. But I feel like we can figure it out.”

“Should be easier, now,” you observe. Now that he doesn’t need to worry about your heart, you mean. 

He nods, understanding. 

Past the horizon of trees, a burst of fireworks light up above the line of rooftops.

“You have a resolution?” you ask him. 

He nods, sucking on his teeth a little. “Yeah. To… let someone in.”

You turn to look at him, silently waiting as he finishes the thought. 

“We wasted a lot of time,” he says, smile twisting sideways wryly. “You were… y’know… waiting for something that wasn’t coming. And I don’t think I gave anyone else a fair shot either. Just because… she’d have to be my best friend, right? Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

You look across the street again. “Yeah,” you say. “Usually that’s how it works.”

“And where would that have left you?” he asks. 

“Yep,” you say flatly, understanding exactly the point he’s trying to make. “That was my problem for a while too, when this started.”

“What I’m saying, though,” he tries again, a little frustrated that his words aren’t doing what he wants, “is that you were the brave one. I was too scared to see what would happen, to see what we could figure out. You gave someone a chance. You had faith that we’d be alright.”

You nod, considering this. “So, are we?” you ask. “Alright?”

He nods. “Can I hug you?” he asks. 

You smile, crooked. “I think that’s allowed,” you joke.

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and you lean your head against his chest. “My dummy,” you say affectionately, and his laugh rumbles under your ear. “I missed your stupid ass.”

Then, you step away. “I should go,” you tell him. “Namjoon’s probably looking at my baby pictures and there’s no one in there to stop him.”

Taehyung laughs. “Okay,” he says. “See you back at campus? Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year,” you tell him, as you walk away. 

Friday May 25th 

[3:55 PM] Joon 💕: it’s here [3:55 PM] You: O.O [3:55 PM] Joon 💕: you want me to open it? [3:56 PM] Joon 💕: or should i wait for you to get home? [3:56 PM] You: omg pls open it [3:56 PM] You: just text me yes or no [3:56 PM] You: nothing else. just that. hurry.

[3:58 PM] You: NAMJOON

[3:59 PM] You: i will THROW UP!!!!!!

[4:01 PM] Joon 💕: you got in [4:01 PM] You: SHUT THE FUCK UP [4:01 PM] You: YOU’RE KISDING RIGHT [4:02 PM] You: PROMISE ME YOURE OT LYING [4:03 PM] Joon 💕: lol you think i’d fuck with you over something like this? [4:04 PM] You: no??? But??? Everything is turning black around me??? I think i’m dying??? [4:04 PM] Joon 💕: breathe, babe [4:05 PM] Joon 💕: and come home soon so we can celebrate [4:05 PM] You: be there soon

You call Lin first. She answers on the third ring, groggily, and you’re aware that she must have worked last night and you’ve woken her up. 

You can feel guilty later.

“I got in!” you squeal, and she shrieks so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. 

“Congratulations!” she’s crowing when you get brave enough to put the phone near your face again. “I told you you would!”

“I know, I know,” you say, breathless with delight. You’d applied for a few grad programs in the area, but your sights were really on a small, private university in the city. Their writing program was renowned, but they only took a small cohort each year. You had felt confident that you’d get into the writing program here, at your current university, with Namjoon, and you’d been right. But it hadn’t been your first choice, not if you were being really honest. 

“We should celebrate,” Lin tells you. “What if I came to campus this weekend? I could take you and Namjoon out to dinner?”

“We’d love that,” you say. “I’ll just double-check that he doesn’t have anything on his schedule but it should be fine.”

“Let me know. And Y/N? I’m really proud of you.”

You’re almost home when you hang up, and you practically skip the rest of the way to the apartment. It’s almost hot out, the late-spring evening promising summer days on the horizon. You take the steps two at a time, ready to get swept up in Namjoon’s arms, ready to share your joy and triumph with him the way you’d once shared your uncertainty.

He delivers; you’re barely through the apartment door when he’s sweeping you into a hug, swinging you around so your living room spins around you. You laugh, delighted, holding on tight. He sets you on your feet, peppering your forehead, cheeks, and lips with playful, sloppy kisses.

“Namjoon!” you protest, laughing. “Let me put my bag down!”

“I can’t,” he murmurs, smiling, lips still against your forehead. “My genius girlfriend got into her dream program. I must kiss her.”

Even as he says this, though, he steps away, allowing you to slide your bag off your shoulder and set it on the floor.

“Did you tell Lin?” he asks. “I texted my mom - she’s so happy for you. She wants us to come visit; she said she’d make your favorite as a celebration.”

“Ooh,” you say. “So many people want to feed me for this. I should get into grad school more often.”

“No one tried to feed you when you got into the mid options,” he points out, eyes glinting playfully. He moves to sit at the breakfast bar, turned sideways in the seat so he can still face you.

“To answer your question,” you say loudly, ignoring his bullshit, “yes, I called Lin. And please tell your mom thank you, and we’ll visit soon.”

Namjoon’s thumbs move as he types. “As much as I love my mom’s cooking, I was thinking tonight we should celebrate just us?”

“Keep talking,” you say slyly, coming up behind him to read over his shoulder as he answers his mother. You lean against his warm, wide back, letting him hold you up for just a moment. Then you wrap your arms around his middle, resting your cheek on his shoulder, waiting as he finishes up. 

He sets his phone down and turns to look over at you. “Want to go out for dinner?”

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, picking your face up from his shoulder so you can see him better. You keep your arms around his, his own little jail cell of affection.

“Somewhere nicer than normal?” he suggests. “Since this is a big deal.”

“How nice?” you push, eyes narrowed.

He smiles at you easily. “The kind of nice where they have you try the wine before they pour it.”

You laugh loudly, finally releasing him. “Wow,” you say. “I might need to pull out some high heels for that shit.”

“You might,” he agrees, his smile turning a little flirtatious. “What do you think?”

“Yeah,” you say, considering. “You want to call and make a reservation somewhere while I go wash my hair?” 

He nods, already reaching for his phone again. “Anything for my genius.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, swatting at the bit of his ass you can reach with him being seated as you pass by, heading for the bathroom. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“Impossible,” he calls, as you disappear. 

Later, after you’ve dried your hair, as you sit at your desk with your make-up bag unzipped before you, you wonder if this is news you should tell Taehyung.

Once upon a time, you would have told him first. Back in the fall, even, he would have been the first to know. 

Now, in the five months since you’d reconciled, you and Taehyung don’t talk that much. What used to be several dinners a week on campus is now a meal at the apartment maybe once a month - and never just the two of you. The last time he’d come for dinner, Namjoon had been home, and Jungkook and Hoseok had both joined, too. And that was over a month ago. 

What used to be daily texts about absolutely every stupid, little thing is now maybe a text or two a week - Taehyung’s texts to you mostly consist of dumb memes that make you feel like you’re losing brain cells by looking at them. Your texts to him tend to ask after him - how are you, how’s your mom, did you pass that midterm?

It isn’t like it was before. You feel a little bit like you’re both tiptoeing, teetering in this space between too much and not enough. You’re both pushing the boundaries of your distance, of your time apart, hunting for the edges, looking for the places where the map turns black. To not tell him big news like this seems like a deliberate distancing, not quite the middle ground you’re trying to find.

And besides, Taehyung does know you’ve wanted into this program. You’d talked about it months ago when the application process started, when you’d been choosing your back-ups, talking through your Plan B’s with anyone who would listen. 

You text him - ‘big news’.

[5:52 PM] Taehyung: 🫄?

[5:53 PM] You: i literally fucking hate you kim taehyung!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[5:53 PM] Taehyung: lmaooooo it’s a legitimate question!

[5:54 PM] You: now i’m not telling you! I’ll call your mom and tell her instead!

[5:54 PM] Taehyung: wow. You haven’t used that line on me since we were eight.

[5:55 PM] You: yes and i was very upset with you that time too 😤

[5:57 PM] Taehyung: ok so what’s the news

[5:58 PM] You: ask your mom

[5:58 PM] Taehyung: this is abuse

[5:59 PM] You: ok you crybaby. I got into the good one. I got the letter today

[6:01 PM] Taehyung: yooo congrats!!!!!!

[6:02 PM] Taehyung: i’m so happy for you seriously

[6:03 PM] You: thanks tae 

[6:04 PM] Taehyung: you honestly SHOULD tell my mom lol she’ll cry

–

“So,” you say to Namjoon. His face flickers before you, broken and dancing by the candle flame on the table between you.

“So,” he echoes, leaning back in his seat. The bottle of wine you’d split sits nearly empty next to the flickering candle. And yes, he’d gotten to taste it before it was poured. This place is upscale.

“Do you want to talk about this?” you ask cautiously. “Or should we not tarnish the celebration?”

“Tarnish?” he echoes again, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah,” you say, “I mean… my program’s over an hour from here. We have to talk about that eventually. What it means for us.”

His brows don’t unfurrow, and his mouth slides into a frown. Seconds ago he’d been relaxed, but now he sits up, leaning closer to you. That candle flame flares and settles again, excited about nothing. 

“What it means for us?” he repeats.

“Can you say something that I didn’t say first?” you snap. His eyes widen, and you close yours, deflating. “Sorry,” you say immediately, before you even open your eyes to look at him again. “I’m just… scared about this, I guess.”

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, still frowning, “I didn’t know you were worried about what we’d do. I thought it was obvious.”

“What?” you utter. Sometimes Namjoon does this, has entire conversations or solves problems in his head, forgets to let you in on it. “What did you think?”

He shakes his head, like he can’t believe you didn’t know what was going on in that brain of his, like he forgot you don’t reside in there, too. “I thought we’d just find a place together, in the middle. We could each commute to class about half that distance. It’d be like forty minutes each way, it’s not totally unrealistic. Plus, a lot of the classes are hybrid these days, half the time we’re online…”

Now it’s your turn to frown. “It’s forty minutes by car. Have you looked at the train schedules?”

He looks embarrassed suddenly, not meeting your eyes. 

“Namjoon?” you prompt, suspicious. 

“I…” he says, still not looking at you. “I mean… yeah.”

“Yeah what?” you ask. 

He sighs, caught. But he’s so predictable, this boyfriend of yours. 

“I was looking at what towns are in that area, right in the middle,” he admits. “I checked the trains from there… and some apartments, too.”

“Namjoon!” you scold. “I hadn’t even gotten in yet!”

He gives you a sheepish smile, those dimples shadowed dark in the dimly lit restaurant. “I knew you would, though,” he says, so easily, like it was just a basic truth. “I knew they’d want you.”

You sip at your water to cover how choked up you feel at his absolute faith in you. When you’ve got yourself under control, you set your glass back down and ask, “So, what’d you find?”

“I can get here on light rail,” he says, a little bit of victory slipping onto his face. “Right outside campus, honestly. There’s an express sometimes, too.”

“You don’t think you’ll get tired of that?”

He looks at you seriously. “My choices,” he tells you, voice low, “are to commute by light rail to my grad classes from the place we’ll share, or to learn to drive and buy a damn car so I can drive two hours to you every night from here. Which would you rather I do?”

You stare at him, face slipping into an indignant frown. “Be serious,” you chide.

“I am being so serious,” he tells you. “I’m going to see you every night. I’m going to sleep by your side every night. Those are the options.”

You can’t even look at him; there are times you’re slapped with how undeserving you feel of the love he gives you, how completely he’s made you his world. This is one of those times.

“And for me?” you croak finally. “Is there a light rail option for me to get to my classes?”

He shrugs, which means no. “You’ll need a car,” he admits. 

“I don’t have a car,” you point out needlessly. 

He grins at you across the table. “How’s your credit score?” he asks. 

 Tuesday July 12th

Namjoon locks the padlock on the back of the rental moving truck, ensuring the door won’t open and spill your belongings all over the highway. 

“I think that’s everything,” he says. “Do you want me to check upstairs one last time for anything?”

“Check the closets,” you tell him, and he nods, giving your arm an affectionate squeeze on his way by. As he disappears upstairs, you sit on the bumper of the moving van, desperate to get out of the scorching summer heat. 

A few of the guys, who’d all come to help - and to say goodbye, follow Namjoon inside. Jungkook plops down on the sidewalk, using his bucket hat to fan himself, and Jimin sits next to him, taking a long drink from a sweating water bottle. 

Taehyung sits next to you on the bumper, the van bouncing a little as he does. 

“Hey,” he says. He doesn’t look at you. You’re reminded of sitting side by side on the stone steps that are to your left, past Jungkook and Jimin, the day you’d told him about Namjoon. “I have something to tell you.”

You look over at him, alarmed. His face is drawn, and he chews on his lower lip nervously. 

“Yeah?” you say uneasily. Once, you might have reached for his hand to help ease his apparent nerves. That was Old Boundaries, though. New Boundaries say hands-to-yourselves, except for hugs goodbye.

He licks his lips, eyes on the pavement. He scuffs his sandal along the road, takes a deep breath.

“I got into an art program abroad,” he says finally, all in one breath.

Your eyes go wide. “Taehyung!” you cry. “That’s amazing news! Where? When do you go?”

He looks at you sideways, almost smiling, almost happy. “All the way in Europe,” he admits, laughing a little. “I’m scared out of my mind.”

“Oh my god,” you say, reeling a little. “You’re moving to Europe? How long is it? Is it, like, for school technically, or a job-?”

He considers this, head cocked as he thinks. “Kind of more like an internship with some killer benefits, and education mixed in?” he says. “It’s a little… unorthodox, I think. Anyway… it’s eighteen months… so almost two years.”

“Wow,” you say. “Wow, Taehyung, congrats.”

“Thanks,” he says, almost shyly, back to looking at the ground. “Anyway, I’ll make sure we have dinner or something before I go. I have the rest of the summer here. Just… make sure you call my mom a lot while I’m gone, okay?”

This makes you laugh, knocks you out of your little stupor. It’s just so typical Taehyung, asking you to do his duties for him. “They have phones in Europe, Taehyung,” you point out flatly. “You call your mom.”

Namjoon emerges from the apartment building, followed by Yoongi and Hoseok. Seokjin, a year ahead of Namjoon, had graduated the week prior, had already moved away from campus. “You ready to go?” Namjoon asks.

“Yeah,” you say, pulling the truck’s key from your pocket. “You ready, co-pilot?”

He grins at you over the heads of the other guys as you stand, preparing to hug everyone goodbye. “Ready,” he tells you. 

Thursday December 19th

[9:14 PM] You: i have☝️ a question about christmas

Your phone lights up with a facetime call; you should have known Taehyung wouldn’t just text like a normal person.

“Taehyung’s facetiming me,” you inform Namjoon, who’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch, scrolling through his own phone. “Don’t say anything questionable.”

“Questionable how?” he asks, as you answer the call.

“Hello, Kim Taehyung,” you say, waving.

“Bonjour,” he says, grinning.

You grimace. “I know I don’t speak French, but… I think your French is pretty bad,” you tell him regretfully.

He rolls his eyes. “Anyway. Christmas. I’m staying here.”

You frown, disappointed. “Really? I know it’s a long flight, but…”

You trail off as a voice behind Taehyung says something. He turns for just a second, murmuring, “Just a second, jagi.”

Namjoon’s head snaps up and his eyes meet yours, comically wide as you both clock it. You bring the phone very close to your face. 

“Kim Taehyung,” you say, and he looks back at you, eyes equally wide, caught. “Did you just call someone jagi?”

“He did,” Namjoon says. “He absolutely did.”

Taehyung covers his face with a hand, slender fingers obscuring closed eyes.

“Oh, my god,” you say.

“Don’t,” he whines through his fingers. “Don’t make a big deal about it.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you demand. “In France?”

“Stop,” he complains. “You’re so annoying.”

“Does your mom know?” you cry. 

“Yah! Enough!”

“I need to know!” you tell him. “I have to know or I will simply combust!”

Taehyung lets out a long, defeated breath, and looks silently at someone off-camera. Then, resigned, eyes on the ceiling, he says, “I’ve sort of been seeing someone here.”

“Sort of,” the someone off-camera scoffs.

You end up talking for almost another hour, both Namjoon and Taehyung’s new girlfriend moving into view as the four of you talk. Taehyung blushes and complains his way through the story of how they met, and she chimes in happily to add how they ended up together. 

You hang up with smiles after telling Taehyung how happy you are for him. And you are - you remember his New Year’s resolution, almost a year ago: to let someone in, finally. It seems - based on the affectionate little touches, the quick, sly glances, the giggles and jokes that you’d just witnessed through your phone screen - that he actually did. 

And, somehow, it doesn’t hurt at all. How could it, when Namjoon slides his hand affectionately up your thigh before he rises from the couch, stretching and yawning as he heads for the bedroom you share?

As you brush your teeth side by side, he asks you around a mouth full of toothpaste, “So, do you want to stick to what we did last year? Christmas with my parents, then New Years with Lin?”

“Sounds good,” you say, sliding your toothbrush back into the holder.

No need to think about it. It’s an easy answer. It’s always an easy answer when it comes to Namjoon. Because wherever he goes, you know you’ll always follow - feet, heart, all of it.

<- Prev

wow wow wow wow wow i can't believe it's over!!!!!! i fully do not know what to do with myself now!!!!!!

thank you all so so so much for going along this journey with me, and waving your pitchforks at taehyung, and putting up with my incessant need to defend his stupid ass, and for just being really incredible readers i love y'all so much :(

I have a Seokjin fic coming sometime in April, a fluffy oneshot called "Sit. Stay."

After that, it might be quite a long time until I post a long series again - fall at the earliest. I was doing okay balancing work and grad school through the fall and in the winter I had some breaks like over Christmas. But to be really honest, since late January it's been really, really hard for me to stay active. If this wasn't written ahead of time, I couldn't have done it. So just... know I'll be back, I have more stories I want to make happen... I hope some of you will wait for me even though I know I hardly deserve it &lt;;3 and i'm really really thankful that you were here at all

[serenelystrange]

Summary:

This is a love story. But more importantly, it's a story about love. A potentially silly ode to doing better than our parents did, healing, and finding happiness the long way around.

Notes:

We love and respect Shannon Diaz in this household. Canon, as always, means nothing here.

Eddie first sees the boy next door when he falls from the tree in his backyard that he’d been trying to climb. He’s probably around Eddie’s age of seven, and has a messy mop of blond hair that falls into his eyes in defiant curls. He’s only made it about halfway up the tree before he falls, so he’s not really hurt, but Eddie watches from his living room window as the boy folds himself against the trunk of the tree and cries into his tucked-up knees.

Frowning, he thinks about running to get Abuela to help, because she always makes him feel better when he falls down, but she’s napping after a long overnight shift and he doesn’t want to wake her. He’d made himself cereal when he woke up, his mom and sisters already gone back to school shopping, and his dad hasn’t been home for weeks now.

Just as Eddie is about to give in and go wake Abuela up, he sees an older girl with long dark hair rushing to the boy and pulling him into her lap in a comforting hug. Eddie flinches slightly, waiting for the boy to be smacked for crying, but she just rubs his back soothingly and tucks his head under chin. Eddie can’t hear what they’re saying, but after a few minutes the boy stops crying and lets the girl pull them both to their feet and head back to their house, hand in hand.

Eddie watches after them for a long moment, until his mother’s station wagon starts pulling into the driveway, and he scurries away from the window so she won’t yell at him for getting fingerprints on the glass again. He’s back in his room pretending to be napping when his family comes in, and he’s equal parts relieved and sad when his mother doesn’t bother checking in on him.

Evan hates California. His dad got some fancy new job that moved them all out to the suburbs of Los Angeles, and his mother has promised that they would all love their new home. He doesn’t love it, though. He misses his kindergarten friends from the year before, and Miss Bailey from school who always had a hug and an extra fruit snack for him when he was sad. He knows after summer he’s going to a new school that is making him wear an itchy collared shirt and stupid khaki pants that he’s already growing out of. His mother tsk’d at him in disappointment when he tried the uniform on, as if he could help the way his limbs grow almost overnight.

Maddie told him later that his mother was just jealous she’d never be as big and strong as Evan will grow up to be, and promised to let out the hem of his new pants to cover his ankles better once mom went out for lunch with her new friends from the Country Club. He isn’t entirely sure what a Country Club is, but his parents had made it clear that he would never be invited, so he hates it on principle.

The sound of giggle outside draws Evan’s attention away from his Gameboy and he looks over from where he’s sitting on his front porch steps to see an older woman with grey streaked hair heading down the driveway next door, followed by three kids with tanned skin and hair even darker than Maddie. There’s two little girls, one who looks maybe Evan’s age or a little younger, and another who is barely toddling around on chubby little legs. She falls right on her butt as he’s watching, and he’s expecting her to start crying, but the third kid, a boy older than the both of them, just scoops her up and holds her tight against his skinny frame as they continue walking to the waiting car. The girls get buckled into the back of the car, and Evan watches with wonder as the boy is allowed to sit in the passenger seat. His mom said he couldn’t do that until he was at least ten, and there’s no way the boy next door is that old.

As if the boy can feel Evan’s eyes on him, he turns suddenly and looks out of the open car window, directly at Evan. Caught off guard, Evan gives a little wave and tries to look as cool as possible while sitting on a porch.

The boy just looks at him curiously for a moment, but finally gives a little wave back, just as the car is starting to drive away.

Evan watches them go, and dares to hope that maybe he might get to make one new friend after all.

Evan ends up meeting the middle child first, when she runs into his yard after a runaway wiffle ball, not noticing him until she’s practically tripping over his sprawled out body. He sits up quickly, giving her a cautious look as she whoops in triumph at grabbing the ball, and then slowly notices that she’s in an unfamiliar yard, and looks over at him with wide eyes.

Up close, Evan can tell she’s younger than him by at least a year, and a good head shorter than him too. She’s frozen in what Evan assumes is fear, though he can’t imagine why anyone in the world would be afraid of him.

“Hi,” he says, giving her a toothy grin. “What’s your name?”

She unfreezes at that, and relaxes.

“Adriana,” she says. “I’m four and a half.”

“I’m six!” Evan says, excited to talk to anyone even remotely close to his age. “My name is Evan.”

Before she can reply, they both hear an exasperated little voice yelling over to them.

“Adri!” the boy from next door calls out. “You know you aren’t supposed to run off!”

He’s huffing out of breath by the time he gets to them, and stares between the two of them in annoyance.

“You hit the ball too hard!” Adriana defends, crossing her little arms against her chest stubbornly.

He looks chastised at that, shoulders slumping, and looks back behind his shoulder quickly before grabbing Adriana’s arm gently.

“Come on,” he says, “before the baby wakes up.”

“She’s two years old,” Adriana huffs.

The boy rolls his eyes. “Before the two year old wakes up.”

Evan watches them talk with blatant interest and looks up at the boy with confusion.

“Don’t you have a grown up watching the baby?”

The boy snorts a laugh at that and just shrugs.

“Eddie is the grown up,” Adriana says, giving Evan a serious look.

Evan squints his eyes up at Eddie, noting his knobby knees and squishy face still rounded with baby fat.

“You don’t look grown up,” he says.

“I’m seven!” Eddie says. “I’m going into second grade, that’s pretty grown up.”

“Oh,” Buck says, frowning. “I didn’t know that. I’m going to first grade, and my sister says I’m still little.”

Eddie just shrugs, looking over to his own house anxiously. 

“Wanna come over later and play Gameboy?” Evan asks, “I have the new Pokemon game.”

“I don’t have a Gameboy,” Eddie says. “And I can’t leave the girls alone.”

“When your parents get home!” Evan says, rolling with it, “and you can play on mine, if you want. My sister will get us pizza if I ask her.”

Eddie looks torn, but he finally nods, the lure of a Gameboy too strong to resist.

“I’ll ask my Abuela when she gets home,” he says. “If she’s not too tired from work.”

“Cool!” Evan says, smiling up at him.

The siblings leave then, Adriana already looking bored with the whole exchange, but Evan can’t help the excited wiggles that want to spring from his body. When the kids are out of view, he runs back to the house, calling out for his sister.

“Maddie!” he whisper-yells, wary of his parents overhearing him. “Maddie, I made a friend!”

Maddie looks up from the kitchen table where she’s doing something with college paperwork that Evan doesn’t understand and gives him a happy grin.

“That’s great, buddy. What’s his name?”

“Eddie!” Evan says excitedly. “He lives next door and is seven. Which he says is pretty grown up, but I think that’s still kinda little.”

Maddie gives him a soft look and nods.

“That is still pretty little,” she agrees, “but sometimes people are a lot older than they actually are.”

Evan frowns.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he says. “Will you order us pizza when he comes over to play Gameboy? You can use my allowance money.”

Maddie laughs, and shakes her head fondly.

“Save your money, kid. I’ll get pizza, if you don’t mind sharing with your super cool but super old big sister.”

“Ok!” Evan agrees readily. “And if Eddie doesn’t want to share, you can have my pizza!”

Maddie’s face wrinkles funnily at that, and Evan doesn’t know what to do with that expression, but the next moment she’s pulling him into a hug and kissing the top of his head.

“You’re so good, baby,” she says, and this time Evan wrinkles his nose at the name. He’s not a baby!

“Go take a bath,” Maddie says when she pulls away, “you stink.”

“You stink!” Evan says, even though Maddie has never smelled like anything other than vanilla and the assorted body sprays she has on her dresser.

She’s laughing when he goes off to take his bath though, so he considers it a win.

It’s almost 5pm by the time Evan hears a gentle knock at the front door, and he’s scrambling to the door so fast that he nearly trips over his own feet.

“Hi!” he says to Eddie when he opens the door.

“Hi,” Eddie says back, holding a Tupperware container of something close to his chest. “I don’t have a Gameboy,” he says, “but Abuela made some cookies we can share.”

“I love cookies!” Evan says, stepping back to let Eddie in and closing the door after him. “Come on, Maddie said we can play in her room so that my parents won’t bother us.”

“She won’t mind?” Eddie looks around nervously. “What if we make a mess?”

“I’m not worried about two little gremlins and some pizza,” Maddie says, appearing in the doorway between the living room and dining room. She gives them a goofy grin and gives Eddie a little wave. He waves back shyly.

“Go play,” she says kindly, shooing them away. “I’ll bring up your pizza when it gets here.”

“Thank you!” Evan says, taking off at a run towards the stairs to the second floor. After a moment and another friendly shooing motion, Eddie takes off after him at a more reasonable pace.

Maddie watches them go and shakes her head in amusement. She’s just happy that Evan has found a friend.

It’s nearly eight o’clock when Eddie looks out the window of Maddie’s room and sighs.

“Abuela said I have to be home before it gets dark out,” he says, handing Evan back the Gameboy.

They’re sitting on the thick teal rug in front of Maddie’s bed, leaning back against the footboard as they trade the Gameboy back and forth.

“It’s almost dark,” Evan says, watching the sun as it dips lower into the sky.

“Maybe I can come over again another day?” Eddie asks, looking over at Evan with big hopeful eyes.

“Duh!” Even says, beaming over at him with a pizza sauce smeared smile. “We’re best friends now, you have to come over!”

“Best friends?” Eddie asks, looking stunned.

Evan wavers a little with nerves, but nods again.

“Best friends,” he confirms. “Ok?”

Eddie grins and nods, looking for once almost as young as he is.

“Deal.”

Days turn into weeks that turn into months and then years, and suddenly Evan is thirteen and Eddie is fourteen, and he’s terrified that Eddie will forget all about him when he starts high school the next week.

“Relax,” Eddie says for what feels like the millionth time. “We’re still just a year apart. I’m not going to suddenly forget my best friend. And it’s not like we’ve ever gone to the same school.”

“I know I’m being stupid,” Evan says, swallowing around the urge to cry. “I just…I don’t want to lose you, too.”

“You didn’t lose Maddie,” Eddie says, gently. “She grew up and got married. That’s what’s supposed to happen.”

“She married an asshole,” Evan says. “And now she lives in stupid Boston with her stupid husband, and she’s going to have babies and never come home again.”

“You know she had to get out of here,” Eddie says, giving in to the urge to wrap an arm around Evan’s shoulder. They’re sitting on the grass in Evan’s backyard like old times, backs pressed against the thick tree he’d watched Evan fall from years ago.

“She could’ve taken me with her,” Evan says, petulantly.

“So now you want to forget all about your best friend?” Eddie teases.

Evan’s lips quirk but he refuses to give in to the laugh.

“You could’ve come, too. Your sisters are old enough to take care of themselves now. We could’ve run away and you could… I don’t know, you could hit for the Red Sox!”

“That would be nice,” Eddie allows. “But I think they’d make me graduate high school first.”

“There’s high schools in Boston,” Evan says, grumbling. “And did you know we got the class list for eight grade, and there’s like 4 other Evans in my class. How dumb is that? I bet Boston doesn’t have so many Evans.”

Eddie laughs. “I dunno, man, there’s a lot of white people in Boston. Probably even more Evan’s than here.”

“I hate my stupid name,” Evan says after a moment. Eddie nods, used to his subject jumping anxiety spirals by now.

“Then get a new one,” Eddie suggests. “Like a nickname. So on the first day of class, you can tell the teachers and they won’t call you Evan.”

“You can’t make up your own nickname,” Evan says, frowning over at Eddie with sad eyes.

Eddie, not for the first time, feels like he can’t quite breathe when Evan looks over at him with his full attention. And not for the first time, he pushes the feeling down and ignores it. His father would kill him if he even thought about another boy too loudly.

“I’ll give you one then,” he says. “How about Buck?”

“Buck Buckley?” Evan says, testing it out on his tongue. “It kinda sounds like a porn star name.”

Eddie cracks up at that, which sets Evan off, and they dissolve into giggles that leave them gasping for air.

“Well, now you have to use it,” Eddie says, when they finally catch their breath.

“Buck it is,” his best friend says, grinning around the word.

“Buck it is,” Eddie repeats, allowing himself one more tiny moment of their arms tangled together before he pulls away.

He won’t let his deviance rub off onto his perfect best friend, no matter how much it hurts to let go.

“She’s like… so hot, Eds, you don’t even know,” Buck sighs dreamily into his cell phone as he sprawls out on his bed after school.

“So you’ve said,” Eddie laughs, cradling the cordless phone against his ear as he glares at his math homework. His parents refuse to let him get a cell phone until he graduates, even though he’s only half a year away, and Buck’s parents got him a phone for his 16th birthday last year.

Buck had used his newfound phone freedom to fill Eddie in on every detail about losing his virginity just a few months later, and Eddie had to fight back nausea while congratulating Buck like a good bro should. Since then, Buck has had a steady stream of friendly conquests, hopping from one girl to another with easy smiles and a no-hard-feelings attitude when they move on to someone new.

“Don’t be jealous,” Buck says, laughing, and Eddie freezes, terrified Buck has figured it out. “You can totally bag any girl you want,” Buck continues, and Eddie can breathe again. “You just have to like.. actually try.”

“I try!” Eddie says, lying through his teeth. “I just haven’t had as much luck as you, Buckley.”

“Don’t slut shame me,” Buck says, and Eddie can practically see Buck’s rolling eyes through the phone.

“Never,” Eddie says, honestly. “Just please remember to use protection. God knows another little Buck running around would cause unholy chaos.”

“Yes, dad,” Buck drawls exaggeratedly, and Eddie has to suppress a shudder at the bolt of lighting that goes up his spine at Buck’s tone.

“I’m hanging up now,” Eddie says, Buck still laughing in delight as the call ends.

Eddie thinks back to that conversation a year later as he sits in the crowd for Buck’s graduation, Shannon clutching his hand tightly beside him. They’ve only been together a few months now, but they’re about to be tied together for life thanks to the broken condom and failed morning-after pill.

“You know,” he says quietly to Shannon, “I joked to Buck not to knock up any of his girlfriends, and now here we are.”

She laughs beside him, lips wobbling as she tries not to burst into tears again. “Figures,” she says, dryly.

“It’s…” Eddie pauses, leaning in closer but avoiding her eyes. “It’s not too late, if you, you know, want to not go through with it.”

“My mom said the same thing,” Shannon says, squeezing his hand. “And you know I’m not religious. But I don’t think I can do it. I think I’d always wonder what would have happened if I didn’t, you know?”

Eddie nods, torn between relief because of Catholic guilt, and terrified because of everything else.

“Ok,” he says. “We’ll figure it out. We got this.”

Shannon laughs and offers him a watery smile.

“We really really don’t got this.”

“No,” Eddie agrees, pulling her into a side-hug and kissing the side of her head. “But we will.”

On stage, the principal stops rambling about life’s journey and turns the microphone over to the Valedictorian for their speech. The crowd quiets, and Eddie stares straight ahead, waiting until they will call Buck’s name, and they can finally go home.

They get married a few weeks later, in Eddie’s backyard. A stern-looking priest binds them together with is words, and Eddie kisses Shannon almost chastely to the crowd of their closest family and friends. She’s not showing yet, but he’s sure everyone knows the reason they must be getting married when they are barely grown themselves.

Buck, tall and beautiful as Eddie’s best man, beams from the sidelines at the couple, snapping pictures with the retro Polaroid camera he’d found in some hipster thrift store.

They drink sparkling cider for their party, blaming it on their ages instead of the baby, and Eddie is grateful nobody makes any snide remarks. He’s heard enough from his parents as it is.

Hours later when everyone else has gone home or gone inside, Buck helps them clean up the yard, a giant trash bag in his hands, his blazer long since abandoned and draped over the fence Buck’s dad had put up between their houses a few years ago.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up your own wedding,” Buck says, as Eddie tosses a pile of napkins and paper plates into the bag.

“Eddie’s family hates me,” Shannon says, shrugging. “And my mother is still pissed I’m keeping the baby.”

“My sisters like you,” Eddie says. “And my parents don’t like me either, so don’t take it personally.”

“My parents don’t like me either,” Buck offers, shrugging. “We can make t-shirts or something. The Shitty Parents Survivors Club.”

Shannon laughs, giving Buck an appreciative nod.

“Good thinking, Buckley. We can wear them to the baby shower.”

Buck laughs in delight at that, and Eddie wishes he had a Polaroid of his own.

They’re at the mall browsing overpriced baby things when Eddie sees the recruitment booth for the Army. He stares at it for a long moment, tucked into one whole corner of the massive food court, and considers. He has no desire to go to war, but the lure of benefits for his little family is strong enough to make him stop and think about it. He’s almost to the booth before he’s stopped by a strong grip on his arm.

“Absolutely not,” Buck says, firmly. He tugs Eddie in the other direction. “You aren’t dying in some shitty war and leaving your unborn baby without a father.”

“I need to feed that unborn baby when it’s actually born,” Eddie protests. “Do you know how much it costs to even keep a kid alive?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Buck says, soothingly. “Shannon can stay home for a while, and you like your job.

“I coach middle school baseball, Buck,” Eddie says. “It’s hardly bringing in the cash.”

“Well then I’ll just have to give you your baby shower gift early,” Buck says, grinning. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but I can’t deal with three more months of emo Eddie.”

“What are you even talking about?” Eddie asks, blinking into the sunlight as Buck leads them outside and towards his truck.

“So,” Buck says, once they are at the truck and leaning back against it. “You know how my parents are stupid rich and also want to get rid of me as quickly as possible?”

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie says, but nods.

“Turns out, they want me gone bad enough that they kinda… bought me a house?”

Eddie’s brain goes blank as he tries to process the information.

“They bought you a house? In Los Angeles!” Eddie asks, dumbfounded.

Buck shrugs, feeling oddly embarrassed about the whole thing, and nods again.

“It’s not super big or anything, just one floor and a basement,” Buck says, “but it has three bedrooms and they all have their own bathroom. We could all be happy there, I think.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie asks, catching up. “You want me and Shannon to move in with you?”

“And the baby!” Buck says, grinning again. “one of the rooms has this really cool skylight window, figured that could be the nursery.”

“You’re insane,” Eddie says, looking up the inch or so of height between them into Buck’s shining blue eyes.

“That’s not a no!” Buck sing-songs. “And hey, with three incomes and no rent, nobody has to sign their life away to the military, ok?”

Eddie just stares, feeling dangerously close to sobbing out of pure relief. Before he can stop it, he’s throwing himself around Buck, wrapping him into a tighter hug than he can remember ever giving before.

“You’re insane,” he repeats, vaguely hysterical, “and the best friend I could ever ask for.”

“Aw, Eds,” Buck says, patting his back carefully. “Love you too, buddy.”

Eddie takes a deep breath, inhaling Buck’s scent for just a moment, even if he does smell like Axe body spray, and lets himself go lax in Buck’s arms, warm and safe.

Shannon takes the news a lot easier than Eddie and accepts the offer with only several minutes of pregnancy-induced crying. The remaining months fly by as they get the house ready, Buck spending way more of his trust fund than Eddie is comfortable with, but he can’t be deterred.

“My little nibling is never going to feel unloved, Edmundo,” he says one day as they’re painting the nursery a soft green.

Eddie, struck by the sincerity in Buck’s voice, can only smile back gratefully and turn back to painting the wall.

Christopher Diaz is born on a rare gloomy day, and despite Buck’s insistence that it’s actually a sign of good luck, he and Shannon nearly die during the traumatic delivery.

“They’re ok,” Buck says, gripping Eddie’s hand tightly in the hospital waiting room. “The doctor said they made it through the worst of it, ok? They’re going to be ok.”

“She was so pale,” Eddie says, quietly. “Like a ghost.”

“I know,” Buck says, “I know.” “But they’re ok, and you’re ok, and we’ll figure everything else out. I promise.”

Eddie laughs brokenly. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can and I will,” Buck says, resolutely. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back. Even if you can’t count on anything else, you can count on that.”

“I know,” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s hand tightly once. “Thank God for you, Buck.”

The doctor appears before Buck can reply and Eddie barely hears the words she says, but she’s smiling, so he lets Buck lead him blindly to the room where his son is waiting for him.

Christopher is tiny and angry and red when the doctor places him in Eddie’s arms, and he knows instantly that he’ll never love anything more than this moment in time. A few minutes later, when he passes Christopher to Buck’s waiting arms, he’s proven wrong.

“You already love him so much,” Shannon says, leaning back tired and loopy from the drugs, but blessedly alive.

“Of course I do,” Buck says. “You guys made him, how could I not?”

The baby is so small against Buck’s surprisingly broad chest, even as lanky as he is, and Eddie wants to cry all over again.

Eddie watches the two of them talk with a soft smile. Maybe he can’t get everything he wants, but this? This comes damn close to perfection.

Chris is almost a year old when Shannon brings it up, and it’s honestly taken longer than Eddie expects.

“So,” she says as they’re laying in bed late one night, Chris sound asleep in his crib.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, exhausted from work and ready to sleep for however long Chris lets them.

The room is dark and still, only the hum of the central air conditioning filling the space.

“You’re in love with Buck, right?” Shannon asks. It’s more of a statement than a question, really, but it still makes Eddie’s face burn with shame.

“I’m sorry,” is what he settles on eventually, whispering into the dark.

“Do you love me?” Shannon asks, and she doesn’t sound nearly as angry as Eddie is expecting.

“I do,” Eddie says, “I love you so much, Shan. You and Chris.”

“But you’re not in love with me,” Shannon says, gently. “Were you ever?”

Eddie is silent just a moment too long and he hears Shannon’s hiccupping breath as she cries.

He doesn’t know how to comfort her when he’s the one causing her pain, but he reaches out anyway and holds her hand.

“We’ve never…” he says, “He doesn’t even know,” he finishes mildly.  

“I figured,” Shannon says, voice raspy. “Buck wouldn’t be able to keep it quiet. Giant puppy.”

“He really is,” Eddie says, fondly.

When Shannon doesn’t respond, but also doesn’t let go of his hand, Eddie takes a breath and decides he might as well lay it all out.

“It’s not just him,” he says. “I mean it is in the way that I’ve been in love with him forever. But it’s not in the way that even if I wasn’t, I would still be this way.”

“What way?” Shannon asks.

“Gay,” Eddie says quickly, as if the word will come out and bite him. “I think I’m really fucking gay.”

“Glad we’re finally on the same page,” Shannon says, laughing dryly. “God, this is not how I imagined our life going.”

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie says again. “I tried so hard to fix it.”

“Our marriage?” Shannon asks.

“Myself,” Eddie says. “I know it’s a sin and my family will hate me even more when they find out, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t make it stop. I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck,” Shannon says, releasing Eddie’s hand so she can turn on her side and reach out to stroke his hair instead. “They really did a number on you, huh?”

Eddie just shrugs, eyes closed tightly against stinging tears.

“It’s not my parent’s fault that I was born wrong,” Eddie says, quietly.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Shannon says, vehemently. “I mean, there’s a lot of dumb stuff, like your love of that godawful Jackass show. Or your loyalty to Skippy peanut butter when Jif is clearly the better choice.”

“Skippy for life,” Eddie says, more out of habit than anything else, but it gets a chuckle out of Shannon, so he’s grateful.

“My point is,” Shannon continues, “there is nothing wrong with your or your soul just because you’re gay. No matter what your parents, or your priest, or your bible says. Maybe we’re just a couple of idiot 20 year olds with a baby, but we’re not going to raise our son to believe that not being straight will get him sent to hell.”

“I know that in my head,” Eddie says, because he does. He’s read enough, and encountered enough people in Los Angeles to know in his heart that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being gay. But that pit in his stomach formed by his parents beliefs is hard to completely ignore.

“The rest of you will catch up,” Shannon says, kindly.

“Why are you being so nice about this?” Eddie asks, blinking open his eyes to look at her barely visible outline.

“Do you want me to be mean?” Shannon asks. “Because I could, but that feels like a lot of work.”

“I really do love you,” Eddie says, “so much.”

“I love you too, baby,” Shannon says. “And I think when we’re old and grey, we’re gonna laugh about all of this. Just from different houses.”

Eddie looks over at her in wonder and leans into the hand that’s still stroking his hair.

“You’re going to make some straight guy so happy,” he says, genuinely.

Shannon laughs at that, and he doesn’t even mind when she smacks him in the head before returning to petting him.

Maybe he hasn’t ruined everything after all.

“Wait,” Buck says a few days later when Shannon and Eddie sit him down at the kitchen table, “you guys are getting divorced?”

Chris is in his lap, gnawing at the teething toy Buck holds for him, blissfully unaware of the conversation around him.

“Not divorcing,” Shannon says. “At least not any time soon. But we are breaking up.”

Buck looks between them, wide eyed. “What? Why? You’re not taking Chris away, are you?”

Shannon gives him a fond look at that. God, it’s no wonder her idiot husband fell in love with him.

“Nobody is going anywhere,” she says. “Especially not with all of the doctor’s appointments and medical stuff the baby is going to need with his C.P. Eddie is just going to move into Chris’ room for now.”

“Endless sleepovers, bud,” Eddie says to Chris, who smiles over at him and wriggles in Buck’s arms.

“But why?” Buck asks, “you guys seem pretty happy.”

“We just gr..” Shannon starts, before Eddie places a hand on her arm gently and looks over at Buck.

“Because I’m gay. I’m gay, and Shannon deserves more than a husband who will never be in love with her.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Buck asks, eyebrows damn near at his hairline.

“Gay,” Eddie repeats dryly. “Homosexual. A fa…”

“No slurs in front of Chris!” Buck scolds, covering one of Chris’ ears with a hand, the other one still holding the teether.

“I just wanted to see your face,” Eddie says, laughing before sobering. “But I really am gay. So hopefully that won’t be an issue.”

“Why would that be an issue?” Buck asks, looking at him with genuine curiosity, and Eddie takes a moment to be glad that within all of the Buckley parent’s bullshit, homophobia hadn’t been something they bothered with.

“You’ve met my parents,” Eddie says, shrugging. “You never know what shit someone has been indoctrinated into believing.”

“But you know me,” Buck says, looking hurt. “I’d never think differently of you just because you’re gay, you know that.”

Eddie smirks. “It’s nice to hear it confirmed though.”

“Asshole,” Buck says, without any heat.

Eddie just grins.

“I was thinking,” Buck says one night when it’s just him and Eddie in the living-room, sipping a beer they both pretend to like.

“Dangerous,” Eddie says, scoffing playfully.

Buck rolls his eyes but continues.

“Chris is going to be five soon, and going into that really cool school Carla found for you.”

“We can thank your shitty ex for one thing,” Eddie agrees, wrinkling his nose at the thought of Abby. “Carla is an angel.”

“She is,” Buck says, ignoring Eddie’s remarks about his ex. “I was thinking of applying for the Fire Academy, once he’s in school.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, “that’s awesome, you’ll make an amazing firefighter. But you don’t have to wait for Chris to start school if it will mess anything up. You already do so much for him, Shan and I can figure it out.”

Buck gives him a smile that looks a little too sad for Eddie’s liking.

“I want to wait,” he insists. “I want to be there for his first day of school, even if the teachers look at me like I’m a weirdo.”

“This is L.A.” Eddie laughs, “they wont bat an eye at us all dropping him off.”

“True,” Buck snorts.

“And Shannon will be starting her college classes back up,” Eddie says. “So we’re gonna be putting you down as a pickup person and emergency contact anyway. Might as well come meet the teachers.”

“True,” Buck says, relaxing back against the couch. “God, I can’t believe he’s already going to be five years old.”

“Shut your face,” Eddie says. “He’s always gonna be our baby.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees mindlessly, before looking sharply at Eddie. “Wait. Our baby?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and slaps Buck’s knee in emphasis as he speaks.

“Yes, Buck. Our baby. Mine, Shannon’s, and yours. You’ve been there for him since before he was even born, you’re his father in everything but blood.”

“Oh,” Buck says, looking over at Eddie with shock. “I didn’t know.”

Eddie looks at him with concern. “I mean, you don’t have to think of him like that. You can just be fun uncle Buck if you want. I just thought you should know how we think of you.”

“No!” Buck says. “I mean, no, I don’t want to just be fun uncle Buck. I love Chris more than I even thought was possible. I just didn’t know I was allowed to.”

“Oh, Buck,” Eddie says, sadly. “We really need to dig out those old t-shirts. And then maybe throttle our parents with them.”

“That’d be nice,” Buck says, laughing slightly.

“Time for bed,” Eddie says, grabbing the empty beer bottle from Buck’s hand and standing up. “Your favorite little monster has been talking about the zoo trip for days, you’re gonna need your energy tomorrow.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Buck says, suddenly energized, much to Eddie’s amusement.

When Eddie just raises and eyebrow and waits, Buck carries on.

“So, we have a basement,” he says.

“Where the holiday decorations live, yes,” Eddie says, indulgently.

“Well I was thinking we could fix it up and make it into like a real living space, with a bedroom and bathroom and everything. That way you wouldn’t have to keep bunking with Chris, and living anywhere else would be stupid expensive.”

“Can we afford that?” Eddie asks, knowing full well Buck has more money than he can easily spend.

“Eh, it’ll add resale value if we ever move,” Buck says, waving his hand as if he was a jaded sixty year old instead of a baby faced-twenty three year old with a heart of gold. “Plus, you know how I worked construction a few summers, and I know you helped your Abuela with all those projects growing up. I bet we could do a lot of it ourselves.”

“Legally?” Eddie asks, wryly, laughing when Buck cringes.

“We’ll get licensed people to finish it,” Buck says, grinning again. “So you guys can take the bedrooms on this floor, and I can take the space downstairs.”

“I’m not banishing you to your own basement, Buck,” Eddie says with a huff. “I can take the downstairs.”

“No way,” Buck says, “I’m not risking Chris falling down the stairs to get to you with his crutches.”

“I..” Eddie relents, “I didn’t think of that.”

“Of course not,” Buck says, kindly. “You never assume he can’t do something. Because you’re a freaking awesome dad.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie says, blushing despite himself. “So are you.”

He’s secretly pleased when the blush across Buck’s face matches his own.

Between Chris starting school, Shannon going back to college, Eddie picking up a second job to supplement his coaching income, and Buck starting the journey to firefighter, it’s a tough but exciting couple of years. Buck excels in the academy to nobody’s surprise and bounces around until he’s officially placed for his probationary year at house 118.

“Morning, probie!” Chim calls out as Buck arrives for his second week of work. He waves at Chim as he heads to the locker room, and gives Hen a friendly smile as he passes.

His phone rings just as he’s closing his locker door and he panics slightly when he sees the name of Chris’ school flash on the screen. Pacing, he doesn’t notice Hen and Chim’s curious looks as he picks up the call.

“What’s that all about, you think?” Chim asks from across the room.

Hen shrugs. “No clue. He does look worried though.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Buck says as he hangs up the phone and pockets it. “Hey, do you guys know where Captain Nash went? I need to pick up my…Chris. I need to get Chris from school and figure out what to do with him until his dad gets out of work.”

“I’m here,” Captain Nash says, “and I told you to call me Bobby last week, kid, come on. Don’t make me feel old.”

“Sorry, Capta… Cap. Can I call you Cap?” Buck says, stumbling over the words.

“Sure,” Bobby says, easily enough. “So what’s this I hear about you needing to leave the shift you just got here for?”

“Chris is sick,” Buck says, hoping Cap doesn’t ask about their relationship, “and both his parents are unavailable at the moment, but he has a fever so they won’t let him stay. I’m next on the list. I can probably drop him off with his great-aunt, but I need to call her on the way. I’m really sorry, it’s been two years and they’ve never needed to call me until now.”

“Relax,” Cap says, holding up a placating hand. “Most of us here have kids, we get it. Just grab him and bring him here. You can be man behind on calls until one of his parents can relieve you.”

“Thanks, Cap!” Buck says, stopping himself just barely before he gives Bobby a grateful hug. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Bobby just waves him off, unconcerned, and as Buck is rushing out, he wonders once again how he managed to get so lucky with his assignment, but is so thankful that he did.

“Hey Buckley!”

Buck looks down from the loft at one of the B-shift firefighters he’s met in passing, a tiny but muscled woman with a slicked back ponytail.

“Yeah?”

“There’s an insanely hot guy here looking for you!” she calls back, loudly enough that half the firehouse laughs and Buck cringes.

“I’ll be right down,” he says, sighing before turning to Chris, whose hanging out on the couch with Hen and watching a video on youtube on Buck’s phone.

“Come on bud, your dad is here to take you home.”

Chris looks up at him with pitiful eyes and reaches out his arms like he hasn’t since he was a toddler.

“Oh boy,” Hen says, laughing kindly, “the universal sign for ‘carry me’.”

“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” Buck says, taking his phone from Chris before scooping him up into an easy hold and nuzzling his hair.

“I’m sick,” Chris whines sadly, and Buck’s rubs his back soothingly. “I know, baby,” he says, ignoring Hen’s curious gaze. “Dad will take you home and take care of you.”

“You, too?” Chris asks, still resting his head on Buck’s shoulder.

“I’ll be home in the morning,” Buck promises. “I’ll be there by the time you wake up.”

“Ok,” Chris says, sleepily.

Hen watches them go, feeling more than seeing when Chim slides up beside her as they blatantly watch as Buck hands off the kid to a handsome dark haired guy. They don’t hug or anything, but Hen gets the distinct feeling that there’s something more to them than Buck has let on.

“He told Chris he’d be home in the morning,” Hen says quietly to Chim. “So they live together, anyway.”

“Could just be roommates,” Chim says, “rent is ridiculous these days.”

“That’s true,” Hen says. “I don’t know though. I guess we’ll find out eventually, if he makes it through his probie year.”

Below them, Buck says one last goodbye and turns back towards the stairs to the loft, and Hen and Chim scramble to look less nosy than they are.

Investigating can wait for another day.

“Oh my god, Eds,” Buck says one night after Chris has gone to bed and Shannon is on a date with a nice guy she met in class. “You should’ve seen it, this snake was huge! And it was thisclose to restricting this poor woman to death.”

“Please tell me you didn’t chop the snake’s head off with your axe,” Eddie sighs, already knowing where this is going.

“I didn’t…not chop the snake’s head off with my axe,” Buck says, sheepishly. “I didn’t have a choice!”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “But you were dying to use that axe, I know it.”

“That’s besides the point!” Buck huffs, before deflating. “You know I don’t like hurting animals.”

“Oh, hey,” Eddie says, “don’t be upset, I was just messing with you, I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t have done it unless it was a real life or death emergency.”

“Thank you,” Buck says, relaxing. “I just felt bad about it after, you know? She really loved that thing, too.”

“Even after it tried to kill her?” Eddie asks with raised eyebrows.

Buck shrugs, before giving Eddie a little smirk.

“She gave me her number, too.”

“Not even a month in and you’re picking up people at work,” Eddie laughs. “Just don’t have sex in the firetruck. You will absolutely get fired.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Buck says, mock-offended. After a beat, he gives Eddie another smirk.

“We had sex in her car. Surprisingly roomy, actually.”

“Jesus Christ, Buck,” Eddie says. “you’re a menace.”

“But you love me anyway,” Buck says, grinning unrepentantly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, pausing before speaking again. “You gonna see her again?”

“Nah,” Buck says. “It was fun, but we knew what it was.”

“You can date, you know,” Eddie says. “I know it’s been a few years since Abby, and you’ve thrown yourself into the job and Chris’ everything, but you deserve to find someone that makes you happy.”

“So do you,” Buck says, very much the pot calling the kettle black.

“I dated Javi for like six months,” Eddie defends. “You know it’s hard for me to put myself out there when I’ll probably never be as comfortable as the other guy in public.”

“Oh I remember Javi,” Buck says wryly. “Javi is why we soundproofed your bedroom.”

“Don’t you slut shame me, Evan Buckley,” Eddie says, punching Buck in the shoulder even as his face flames.

“Never,” Buck teases him. “It’s just fun to annoy you.”

Eddie punches his shoulder playfully again, then gripping it in one hand and rubbing his thumb over Buck’s collarbone absent-mindedly before pulling away.

“Menace,” he repeats, watching with interest as Buck’s throat bobs as he swallows, before shaking himself out of his daze and backs away.

He walks towards his bedroom without another word, and Buck finds himself frozen where he stands, wondering what in the world just happened.

It’s a slow day at the station when Buck’s phone lights up with a facetime call from Shannon. He picks up and immediately sees Christopher’s face way too close to the camera.

“Hey, buddy,” Buck says, “what’s up?”

“I just wanted to say hi,” Chris says, “and to show you my science project! Look, the potato makes he lightbulb turn on!”

“That’s so cool!” Buck says, genuinely enthused. He always loved the science projects at school. He watches Chris point everything out and explain the project for a few more minutes and he hears Shannon tell him to go wash his hands for dinner, and a minute later she’s looking into the camera instead.

“Hey,” she says, smiling warmly at him. “You should show me around. Eddie got to see inside and I’ve never even seen pictures.”

“Hey Buck!” Chim says as he enters the room, stopping short when he sees Shannon’s face on the phone screen. “Hey, Buck’s.. girlfriend? Baby mama?”

Shannon laughs, and shrugs. “Well, one of those is mostly accurate.”

“Ugh,” Buck groans in faux-annoyance before looking over at Chim. “Shannon is Chris’ mom. Eddie is his dad. We all live together, it’s not that complicated.”

“None of us are sleeping together, if that answers your questions,” Shannon pipes up from the phone, and Buck seriously considers hanging up on her.

“That actually creates even more questions, pretty lady!” Chim says, cheerfully, unbothered.

“You’re the worst,” Buck says to Shannon, who only cackles in response.

“Love you too,” she says as he does hang up on her, all the while still wheezing with laughter.

Buck hasn’t even made it through his probationary year when Shannon tells them that her mother is dying of cancer, and she wants to move back to live with her for the summer, and take Chris to get to know her before it’s too late.

Eddie agrees after a few minutes of tense bickering and making Shannon promise she’ll come back immediately if her mother causes any problems with Chris. They then both turn to look at Buck, who had been watching the argument like a really sad tennis match.

“What?” he asks.

“What’s your vote?” Shannon asks, looking at him expectantly. “I’m not going to take Chris away for a whole summer unless we can all be ok with it.”

“Oh,” Buck says, feeling warm like he does every time they include him in parental things. “I know you don’t really get along with your mom,” he continues. “But if you think it’ll be good for Chris to remember her, you should do it. It’s only an hour away, anyway, it’s not like we can’t come get him to visit.”

Shannon gives him a grateful smile and reaches out both her hands to cover one of his and one of Eddie’s.

“This is really going to suck,” she says quietly. “But I’m so glad I’ll have you two to come home to.”

“Come here,” Buck says, holding out his arms and letting Shannon drop herself into his lap for a tight hug.

Eddie watches them fondly, letting Shannon’s hand go so she can wrap them both around Buck fully.

“Our lives are weird,” he says after a moment.

“But really good,” Buck says, looking over at him above Shannon’s hair. “I think so, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “I think so, too.”

Shannon and Chris leave a few days later, and Buck and Eddie find themselves truly alone for the first time in literal years.

“We should get shitfaced,” Eddie decides. “Neither of us work tomorrow and we’re in our twenties. We don’t get drunk nearly enough for guys in their twenties.”

“I don’t think there’s a quota,” Buck says, but agrees to the bottle of tequila readily enough. “But we really need to mix this with something unless you want me to puke.”

“We have, uhhh,” Eddie looks into the fridge and pulls out a jug. “Hawaiian Punch?”

“That’ll do,” Buck says. “I’ll find the glasses.”

Hours later and the full bottle is long since gone, along with most of the punch and all of Buck’s ability to stand up without the room spinning.

Instead, he slumps down on the floor of the living room, with his back pressed up against the couch, and his shoulder pressed against Eddie’s like when they were kids.

“Remember when we used to play Gameboy on Maddie’s floor?” Buck asks, proud of himself for slurring only slightly.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “She was so nice to me. You were so nice to me, even then.”

“You brought us cookies,” Buck says, thinking back.

“I was Chris’ age when we met,” Eddie says, looking over at Buck with wide eyes. “He’s so little, Buck. He’s still so little.”

“So were you,” Buck says, brave with the alcohol to voice the thought he’s kept to himself for nearly twenty years. “You were so young and they expected way too much of you, and it wasn’t fair.”

“It’s ok,” Eddie says, leaning over and resting his head on Buck’s shoulder. Which he’s never actually done before. Buck very carefully doesn’t react, and instead just hums for Eddie to continue his thought.

“It’s ok,” Eddie says again. “Because I met you, and Shannon, and we have Chris, and he’s never been unloved. You told me that, remember? You said your nibling would never feel unloved, and you’ve made sure of it.”

“We all did,” Buck says, resolutely.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, nuzzling into Buck’s shoulder sleepily. He always has been a loopy drunk.

“You smell nice,” Eddie says, “much better than the axe body spray days.”

“Ok, Mr. Calvin Klein cologne,” Buck huffs.

“That’s a classic…smell thingy,” Eddie murmurs.

“Scent?” Buck asks, laughing.

“That’s the bitch,” Eddie agrees, nodding. His stubbled face scratches Buck’s skin where his loose t-shirt exposes part of his shoulder, and Buck resists the urge to shudder at the feeling.

Buck, feeling strangely sober with adrenaline, even though he knows he isn’t, asks the question that’s been on his mind for months.

“How’d you know you were gay?” he asks, frowning when Eddie immediately pulls his head away to over at Buck with bleary eyes.

“I just knew,” Eddie says after thinking for a long moment. “When other guys would talk about girls, I never really got it. But the first time I heard someone talking about how hot some guy was, that I never even saw, I understood. Men are just.. so hot sometimes.”

“I think maybe I’m kind of into them, too,” Buck confesses quietly.

“Oh?” Eddie asks.

“I, uh,” Buck stammers, “I get hit on a lot at work. And most of the time it’s women, but sometimes it’s guys, and I guess I kinda don’t hate it?”

Eddie snorts and gives Buck an amused look.

“Maybe you just like the compliment?” he asks. “Regardless of the gender it comes from.”

“Maybe,” Buck says, thinking about it. “But a compliment doesn’t usually get me hard as nails like the guy from B-shift did when I watched him washing the truck shirtless.”

“Jesus fuck,” Eddie says with a start. “No offense,” he adds hastily, “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah,” Buck says with a huff. “Me either. I’m not even into him. He was just really hot in that moment.”

“Maybe you were ovulating,” Eddie says wisely, and Buck smacks his leg in retaliation.

“You’re an idiot,” Buck says and Eddie just shrugs and nods in agreement.

“Would you come with me to a club or something, if I wanted to check it out?” Buck asks, and Eddie gives him an unreadable look before nodding slowly.

“Of course I will,” Eddie says. “You’ll need a bodyguard to weed them out anyway.”

“What?” Buck asks, incredulously.

“You are literally a smoking hot fireman, Buck,” Eddie says plainly. “You will have men lining up to take you home. Or to the club bathroom.”

“You think I’m hot?” Buck asks, and Eddie groans.

“That’s what you took from this conversation?” he asks.

“Would you date me?” Buck asks, “if we weren’t already best friends, like if we just met for the first time tomorrow?”

Eddie studies him carefully for a moment, and Buck thought he knew all of the expressions on Eddie’s face, but this one is entirely new and indecipherable.

“Yeah,” Eddie says finally, giving him a soft smile. “I’d date the hell out of you in another life.”

What about this one? Catches in Buck’s throat and he swallows around the words. He’s not sure what he’d do with the answer either way.

Despite their talk, it takes another week for them both to have a free night again, and for Buck to work up the courage to actually go out to a queer club.

Once they finally get in and get the first round of drinks, Buck takes a moment to lean back and check out the scene. He silently thanks Eddie for not taking him to someplace overly extravagant for his first foray. The club around them is pretty similar to the ones he’d been to before, just with way more men dancing together than he’s ever seen all in one place

They’ve barely finished their first drinks when a tall thin guy with an undercut and a handsome face approaches Buck and asks for a dance. He looks over at Eddie, who gives the guy a once over and determines he seems safe enough, and gives Buck an encouraging nod. Only if you want to.

Shrugging, Buck lets the guy take his hand and lead him out onto the floor. His eyes linger on Eddie, who gives him a crooked smile as he gets pulled away.

“Your boyfriend wont mind?” the guy asks, as they start moving to the music, a respectable few inches between them for now.

“Not my boyfriend,” Buck says. “It’s, uh, it’s my first time at a gay club. He’s just looking out for me.”

“You look like you can take care of yourself pretty well,” the guy says, running his hands up Buck’s chest and linking them behind his neck.

Buck wants to explain, wants to defend Eddie from an insult that hasn’t even happened, but he stops himself. Eddie doesn’t see him like that, and he has to be ok with that. So Buck turns on the charm that’s work for him in the past and gives the guy a sultry look.

“Well, I am a firefighter,” he says, smirking when the guy’s eyes light up.

In the next moment, the guy’s lips are on his and he’s being kissed by a man for the first time. He kisses back tentatively, letting the guy lead, and lets himself fall into the feeling of it all, the fingers behind his neck anchoring him to the moment.

“Wanna get out of here?” the guy asks when he pulls away from the kiss, licking the taste of Buck’s mouth from his lips.

“I don’t even know your name,” Buck says, ignoring the fact that he’s hooked up with plenty of women whose names he never learned.

“Erik,” the guy says, his tone oddly polite for the moment, “And yours?”

“Buck,” he replies, laughing at the guy’s dubious look. “It’s a nickname,” he explains. “There were too many Evans as it was.”

“Ok, Buck,” Erik says, staring at Buck’s lips again. “You wanna get out of here?”

Part of Buck want to say yes, mainly the part of him that’s throbbing in his pants at the thrill of it all, despite his nerves. But the rest of him isn’t ready to jump into the deep end just yet.

“Not this time,” Buck says, giving Erik an apologetic shrug. “I’m really, like stupidly brand new to this.”

“No worries, hot stuff,” Erik says, easily. “This was fun. But I did come here to get laid, so if you’re not interested, I’ll have to go back into the trenches before all the pretty ones like you are snatched up for the night.”

“Good luck?” Buck says, amused.

“You, too,” Erik says, looking behind Buck’s shoulder towards the bar. “Pretty sure your not-boyfriend would try to stab me if you left with me, anyway.”

Buck turns to look towards the bar, but only sees Eddie looking down at his phone and sipping a toxic looking drink that is probably delicious.

When he turns back, Erik is gone, lost in the crowd, and Buck just shakes his head and starts back towards the bar.

“Looked like you were having fun,” Eddie says as Buck rejoins him and steals the bright drink from his hands to take a sip. He was right, it is delicious.

“I was,” Buck agrees. “He asked me to leave with him.”

Eddie snorts. “I told you. Took less than twenty minutes.”

“You think I should’ve gone?” Buck asks.

“No,” Eddie says, a little too vehemently, and Buck looks over at him in surprise.

“I just mean,” Eddie sighs, “that if you have to stop and really think about it, you probably aren’t ready to just go home with some random guy yet. It’s your first night out, you have plenty of time.”

“I think you’re right,” Buck says, nodding and downing the rest of Eddie’s drink. “Wanna go home and watch violent action movies that we wont let Chris see?”

“Absofuckinlutely,” Eddie says, pulling out his phone in a flash. “I’ll call an Uber.”

“Hey,” Buck says, as they’re waiting for their ride outside. “How come nobody was hitting on you? You’re objectively like super hot.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Eddie says, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah, but I’m also right,” Buck says, shrugging. “I expected to have to fight through a group to get back to you.”

“Guess I wasn’t anyone’s type tonight,” Eddie says, too quickly.

“Bullshit,” Buck says, raising an eyebrow at him. “What did you do?”

Eddie looks at him guiltily before rolling his eyes and huffing.

“Fine,” he says. “I maybe glared at anyone who came near me. I also maybe pushed one guy who got handsy into the bar hard enough to knock some sense into him.”

“I left you for ten minutes!” Buck says, laughing in disbelief. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

“You can take me home,” Eddie says as their Uber pulls up, “that’s somewhere. That’s my very favorite somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, climbing into the car after Eddie and immediately dropping his tipsy head onto Eddie’s shoulder. “It’s my favorite, too.”

They spend the rest of the night in pajamas watching bad movies and eating way too much pizza in a way they haven’t done since they were teenagers. Eddie falls asleep before the credits of the third movie, and Buck doesn’t dare move a muscle and dislodge the warm body that’s tucked against his side until he absolutely has to. When his bladder finally demands he moves, he shakes Eddie gently to wake him up.

“Not morning yet,” Eddie grumbles adorably. “No sun.”

“You can go right back to sleep,” Buck promises, “but you gotta let me up so that I don’t piss all over our carpet.”

“Ew,” Eddie says, even in sleep.

Rolling his eyes, Buck decides to just move Eddie, and pulls himself free, easing Eddie back down on the couch running a hand briefly through his hair soothingly.

Eddie settles back down and is out cold in the next moment, and Buck pulls himself away before he does something stupid like shake Eddie fully awake and kiss him right on his perfect mouth.

A tsunami rips through the coast a week later, causing chaos at work like Buck has never seen. When he finally gets home after three days of brutal search and recovery, Eddie greets him with a long hug and the shared thankfulness that Chris and Shannon had been far away from all of the destruction.

Buck wakes up a few nights after that to Eddie roughly gripping his shoulder, staring at him with wide eyes.

“What is it?” he asks, looking around the dimly lit basement bedroom. “Is Chris ok?”

“Chris is fine,” Eddie says, relaxing now that Buck is awake. “Are you ok, though? You were screaming, I thought you were being murdered or something.”

“So you ran down here to be murdered with me?” Buck asks, groggily. “That’s not great planning, Eds, I gotta say.”

“I wasn’t really thinking,” Eddie admits. “You screamed, and I ran. I’m glad you’re not being murdered, for what it’s worth.”

“I was drowning,” Buck says after a moment. “In the nightmare. I was drowning in the street while trying to save people and they kept grabbing my feet as they sank.”

“Jesus,” Eddies says, dropping down onto the bed next to Buck and leaning back against the headboard.

“I was screaming underwater, and nobody could hear me,” Buck continues. “Sorry that I scared you.”

“Don’t be,” Eddie says. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Am I?” Buck asks, looking for all the world like the sad little boy Eddie met a lifetime ago.

“You’re safe here,” Eddie says. “Even if you’re not ok. You’re safe, and you will be ok eventually, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Buck says, softly. “Will you stay with me until I fall back to sleep?”

“I wasn’t going to leave unless you made me,” Eddie says. “This is a big bed, we can share just fine.”

“Will you..” Buck trails off, looking away with embarrassment.

“What?” Eddie asks, as he settles down under the blankets. “You know I will, you just have to ask.”

“Can I hold your hand?” Buck asks, still not looking at Eddie.

“Of course you can,” Eddie says, looking at him with contemplation. “But is that really what you were going to ask me? I know your tells, Buckley.”

“I can’t ask,” Buck says finally. “It sounds so stupid, but I can’t make my dumb brain work with my dumb mouth.”

“Ok,” Eddie says, watching the way Buck is practically curled into himself with anxiety. “Come here,” he says, holding out his arms. “You want me to hold you, right?”

Buck nods, not trusting his voice to speak without crying.

“Then come here,” Eddie repeats, patiently. “but lose the hoodie, you ridiculous space heater of a man.”

Buck laughs at that, but does as he’s told, pulling the hoodie up over his head and tossing it to the floor, before letting Eddie tug him down onto his chest like a weighted blanket.

“There,” Eddie says, once Buck is comfortable and settled against him. “Now we can sleep.”

He pulls the comforter up over them before looping his arms around Buck’s back and rubbing it soothingly as Buck’s breathing finally starts to return to normal.

“Love you,” Buck says, because he suddenly feels like he might die if he doesn’t let Eddie know. Even if he won’t know how Buck means it.

“Love you too,” Eddie says, in the same way he’s always said it, sincere but achingly platonic.

But for once, Buck lets himself ignore all of the angst in his head, and just enjoy the feeling of being held together by the man that he loves.

Summer isn’t quite over when they get the call from Shannon that her mother has died, and that they should come to town for the funeral that weekend before they can all come home together.

“I don’t think I have any funeral clothes,” Buck says, appearing in Eddie’s bedroom doorway.

Eddie looks over from where he’s looking through his own closet. “Me either,” he says, frowning at his lack of options. “I guess we have to go shopping.”

“This is probably bad timing,” Buck says, and Eddie barely blinks before Buck is standing not even a foot in front of him.

“But?” Eddie asks.

“But,” Buck says, “I’m in love with you, and even if you never feel the same way, I just really needed you to know.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, letting out a sigh of relief. “I have been in love with you since I was fourteen years old.”

“No you have not,” Buck says, shocked, “shut up.”

“I have,” Eddie insists. “But you didn’t want me like that.”

“I didn’t know,” Buck says, reaching out and cupping Eddie’s face with his hands. “I didn’t know what I was feeling wasn’t just friends. I never had a best friend before you. I think I’ve loved you longer than I’ve know what love is.”

“That is the sappiest thing you’ve ever said,” Eddie teases, even as his eyes are welling with tears. “That’s the big kiss ending of a rom com.”

“You love it,” Buck says, and then they’re kissing, and nothing else matters.

It’s thrilling and calming in equal measure, and Eddie finds himself hoping that he never has to take another breath if it means having to pull away from Buck’s lips.

“Ok,” Eddie says when they do manage to separate. “New plan.”

Buck looks at him expectantly.

“We buy clothes tomorrow,” Eddie says. “Today we do that.”

“Is that the whole plan?” Buck asks, pulling Eddie tightly against him and leaning down to leave a trail of kisses along his jaw.

“Do you need an itinerary?” Eddie asks, “or can we just take some clothes off and figure it out as we go?”

“Definitely the second one,” Buck says, grinning with anticipation as he falls towards the bed, pulling Eddie down with him.

Second one it is.

The funeral is small and quiet, and Shannon holds herself together until she’s finally alone with Buck and Eddie. Only then does her face quiver in the way that they know precedes a breakdown, and Buck quickly scoops Chris up to distract him elsewhere. As soon as he’s out of sight, Shannon lets Eddie pull her into an embrace as she sobs.

“We didn’t even get along,” she says after a few minutes, still tucked up in Eddie’s arms.

“But she was still your mom,” Eddie says gently, “it’s ok to love her even if you didn’t like her.”

“She really loved Chris,” Shannon says. “He made her so happy the last few weeks.”

“That’s good,” Eddie says. “You did so good, Shan.”

Shannon pulls away at last, looking up at Eddie with tired eyes.

“I’m so ready to go home,” she says. “I miss my bed. And my beautiful idiot boys.”

“Buck washed your bedding so it’d smell nice and fresh for you when you got back,” Eddie says, smiling. “He’s going to tell you I did it to try and make me look good, but he’s a dirty rotten liar. A sweet one, though.”

“Wait,” Shannon says, eyeing him suspiciously. “You don’t sound sad at all like you usually do when Buck does something sweet. Did you two finally get together??”

Eddie looks around nervously, but the room is empty save for them.

“Maybe,” he says, fighting back the proud smile that wants to break out across his face.

“I can’t believe you waited until I was gone to get your shit together,” Shannon says, smacking him lightly on the arm. “Figures.”

“It’s really new,” Eddie says, as if he’s afraid speaking it out loud will make it wash away.

“I’m happy for you,” Shannon says, hugging Eddie again. “Now can we please go home?”

“Please,” Eddie says, taking her hand and leading the way.

When they finally pull into the driveway of the house, there’s a woman sitting on the front steps, who stands up quickly as the early evening headlights illuminate her.

“Maddie?” Buck says out loud before the car is even parked, and Eddie looks closer in surprise.

She’s older now, with shorter hair and paler skin than Eddie remembers, but it’s definitely her.

Buck rushes out of the car and Eddie can’t hear what he says, but he sees Buck touching Maddie’s face gently before pulling her into a tight hug.

When the three of them finally get situated and join Buck at the stairs, Maddie looks over at them and offers a weak smile. Half her face is covered in an array of purple bruises and her busted lip is just barely starting to heal.

“I was hoping I could stay with you for a while?” Maddie asks, looking between the three adults and then fondly at the conked out Christopher in Eddie’s arms.

“Of course you can,” Buck says.

“As long as you want,” Shannon agrees, knowing Eddie would agree to anything to make Buck happy, so it’s really only her that Buck might be worried about.

“Are you in danger?” Buck asks. “Is he going to follow you here? I’ll kill him Maddie, I swear I will.”

“Too late,” Maddie says, looking up at them wide tearful eyes. “It’s a long story, but he won’t be hurting anyone ever again.”

“We can talk about it tomorrow,” Eddie says, gesturing to Chris asleep in his arms. “But for now, why don’t we all get some sleep. Buck can set you up in his room.”

“Where will you sleep?” Maddie asks, frowning, “I don’t want to push you out of your room.”

“With uh,” Buck ducks his head, “with my boyfriend, probably.”

“Boyfriend?” Maddie asks in surprise. “What boyfriend? None of your letters mentioned a boyfriend.”

Buck just slowly looks pointedly at Eddie, who gives Maddie an amused smile.

“Oh,” Maddie says, calming down. “It’s Eddie. That makes sense.”

Buck and Eddie give her twin looks of incredulity, but Shannon just laughs.

“Boys, right?” she says, sharing a long-suffering look with Maddie.

“Boys,” Maddie agrees.

Shannon lets them in and lets Eddie transfer the sleeping Chris into her arms to bring him to bed. Buck points Maddie in the direction of the closest bathroom and locks the door behind him and Eddie as they finally come in.

“You don’t mind, right?” Buck asks.

“You finally get your sister back and you think I would ever take that from you?” Eddie asks. “You wound me, Buckley.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Buck says. “But I had to ask.”

“Go get your sister clean sheets, you weirdo,” Eddie says, pulling Buck in for a quick kiss. “And then you can come get mine messy again.”

And really, who is Buck to argue with a plan like that?

The End.

[rafalkbircom]

Help MENNA Family From Gaza To Have A Secure Life

Hello, I am Menna Musa Muhammad. I am 22 years old. I live in Gaza City. I graduated from Al-Azhar University. I lost two of my brothers during the war after my mother was making lunch and we were sitting eating together, and suddenly our lives were turned upside down as they attacked the neighborhood in which we live,

and with the dust and flying glass surrounding every place, my brotheres went down to check on the rest of my family in our neighboring house, and then I lost them in front of our house. We were unable to save them. We call more time the ambulance so that someone would come to their rescue due to the bad situation and the danger of the place No body come. We waited for more than 12 hours inside the house while

my link gofundme https://www.gofundme.com/f/assist-my-family-in-getting-out-gaza-2024

they were outside bleeding and no one came and the situation continued until the next day and then we went and buried them after our relatives came and helped us carry them. We left our house and did not take anything from it. Our house is anything we left our memories in. We went to Rafah and we did not have clothes, food, or anything.

We put up a tent, which was given to us by people we did not know who helped us and we sat inside it. Here the suffering is indescribable. My sister is sick and needs treatment, and she needs medicines that are not available at the present time due to the lack of medicines, and my nephew has electricity.

The brain needs treatment, and my sister-in-law has a thalassemia patient and needs medications and treatments due to a blood transfusion, as her blood in the past was 6. She took many units and removed the spleen because it was causing blood to break down. This is a picture of my family at the university when I graduated.

My brother was a philanthropist who helped others and neighbors, helping them with bread and water, and even charging their phones. He lived on the first floor, where he had a beautiful house with new furniture and a new TV. He was afraid the TV would break, so he put it in another room so it wouldn't break.

He also loves trees and loves to water them. One day there was a cat who climbed a palm tree for a whole day and could not come down. He ventured to taste it, but could not, for when he tried to catch it, it ran to the right and sometimes to the left. When I came down, my cat lasted about 4 days.

Then I opened the window and found her coming down alone, even though I used to love my cat and eat her every day and she slept in my lap, but the day I lost my brothers, I found the cat next to my brother in front of me from the house. It was yellow and died with them as well. This is a video of when my brother tried to save the cat

This is a video after we left our home, after we lost my brothers and headed to Rafah

This is a picture of our house after it was destroyed

On the second floor is our house, my father's house, who was with me. My mother, father, and my younger brother, whom I lost, along with my older brother, live in it. My mother loved birds.

On the day we left the house, my mother said: “Let's take the birds with us and not leave them alone, but they were not one, but 10. We could not take them because there were two birds in the cage.” This is what made my mother open the door for them and throw food on the floor so they could eat in the same house and we left them behind. Here is a video of the house from the inside after and befor

On the third floor, there is my brother with his wife and two daughters. He loves pigeons, and in the worst moments he considered pigeons like his children. Because of his intense love for pigeons, he sat crying because he could not provide food for the pigeons. What should he do? He went to the pigeons’ house and opened the door.

He found a cat coming to eat from the pigeons, which made him close the door. But he tore the ceiling so that it would fly from above instead of through the door for fear of being eaten by cats and left behind

This is a picture of my cat

In front of the house there was a place where we could sit and drink coffee. Every day he destroyed and destroyed the swing in front of the house. We lived a quiet life. We lost everything and headed to Rafah without water or food. The weight of each of us has become about half. This is a picture of the tent

I want to go out with my family. I want to continue my life abroad and study my master’s degree and treat my nephew, my sister and my brother’s wife because they need treatment and it is not available due to the lack of medicines.

I want to leave Gaza City and go to Egypt, knowing that the cost of going to Egypt is per person, and each person needs about 5,000 thousand dollars, and they number about 15.

The number of children is 10, and the travel cost per person is $2,500. The number of adults is 5, and the travel cost for each person is 5,000 thousand dollars.

The amount will be paid for travel costs to leave Gaza. I have absolutely nothing: no home, no livelihood, no university. Even my university was completely destroyed:

The surviving brother did his best to get me, my mother and my sister out of Gaza, but he is still stuck there with his wife and children amidst bombing, hunger and fear. My nieces, Alma and Dania, are very young. They need milk, diapers and clothes. The weather in Gaza is very cold, and also my brother’s children, who were lost in the war, we want to take them out to complete their treatment

I hope to complete my university studies, and I hope to go out to my family and treat my brother’s wife and their children so that we can live a decent life. I wish I were a famous girl ☺️ but war, famine, fear and sadness put us in a difficult psychological state.

I hope you will help me and donate to me, even a small amount, because this will make a difference and make me feel loved and cared for, because there are many wonderful people in this world. Only your help will protect me and my family. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for donating and reading my story. I hope to live a beautiful and normal life like everyone else. Thank you.

note. ▪️I want to explain to you that I chose Switzerland because there is no Palestine among the countries, and I have friends who help me collect donations.

▪️ To withdraw funds, I have a friend who studies in Egypt. He will help me withdraw donations and send them to me.

Thank you all ❤️

[mamadoc]

Hello! I’ve finally posted the next chapter of my story.

Here’s a preview of one of the segments.

Friday morning, as the girls were loading themselves into the car to go to camp, Tim rolled the garbage cans out to the curb just like Angela had instructed him to do. However, as he turned to go back into the garage, he noticed something unexpected and strange.

There was a large camper van parked on the street in front of Angela’s house that he had never noticed there before. The door opened right as he turned to go back. Tim took a double take as he saw a man he easily recognized step out of the van with two bags of trash in his hands.

“Smitty?” he asked, his voice much higher than normal. “What in the world are you doing here?’

“Bradford,” he said, not at all surprised to see him there. “I sneak my trash into Lopez’ garbage cans on her garbage day. She always has extra room because that husband of hers loooooves recycling,” he said with a Cheshire grin. “I’ll just save the planet by cleaning up every once in a while,” he said with nod that reiterated to Tim that he should never, ever step foot in that van.

After depositing the trash bags, he winked at Tim. “Hashtag van life, baby,” he said as he crossed two fingers on each hand to make a hashtag symbol.

Tim shook his head. Some things never change, he thought to himself. But there was room for his trash in Angela’s bin, so he decided not to fight it.

As Smitty walked back to his van, he turned to Tim. “Hey, good luck tonight, Bradford. I hope everything works out between the two of you. I lost a lot of money when you two didn’t get together. Well, the whole station did, really. Everyone except for that prick Primm. I don’t know who stuck a stick up his ass, but that guy was the biggest jerk. At least that’s one good thing about finally retiring. I don’t have to see him ever again.”

Smitty shook his head and looked over at Tim who was glaring at him like he was speaking a foreign language. Smitty smiled and waved as he got back into his van. Then he leaned out the window and said, “Don’t stress out too much, sarge. She loves you. She has for years. Just lean into it and go with the flow.” With that he put on his sunglasses and made a motion with his hand that looked like waves on the ocean. “Peace out!” he called. Then his honked his horn three times and drove off.

Tim stood frozen in the driveway. He had had some odd conversations with Smitty over the years, but this one might take the cake. He had no idea what he was talking about or who he was talking about. Good luck tonight? Lost a lot of money on a bet? What bet? Was he really talking about Lucy and him? Or was that just his mind playing tricks on him again? She loves me? Nah…. Smitty was losing it. It was only when he heard his girls hollering at him that he was broken out of his trance.

“Yeah. Coming,” he called back to them. Then he turned and jogged up the driveway to take the girls to camp.

Read more here:

It’s definitely a long chapter, but I hope you enjoy it.

[ask-missparker]

WandaVision AU - We found wonderland you & I got lost in it 🤍

Pairing: Amelia x Nikolai

Summary: What if 2 Agents of Shield were trapped in a classic all American sitcom created by a old friend? Utter bliss!

Characters mentioned: Marlene, Melissa, Wanda, Vision, Agnes, Mr. Hart & his wife and etc

—

‘It’s Been A Long, Long Time’ played quietly on the radio situated above the sink, just loud enough to be heard over the sizzling pancakes on the frying pan. The humming could be as the women swayed side to side, chuckled at the song being played. Her kitten heels clicked against the hardwood floor, running a finger across her pinned curls.

She looked outside the window, listening into her town with a soft smile. The occasional bark of the house dog could be heard throughout the day as they pranced about the neatly cut grass of the town.

Each house was lined with the most decadent array of flowers around the fence, each petal greeting you as you walked by the uniform bushes. A postcard worthy image to behold.

As she worked around the kitchen, her hands went to smooth down your cream colored apron. She glanced around the clock, with a darling smile. 6:45 on the dot. She placed the pancakes onto two sliver dollar plates and poured herself a glass of morning coffee.

As if on cue, her husband walked and called out, “Honey, I’m ready.” He was fixing his tie, newspaper under his armpit and grin plastered across his face. A silly grin to be correct. He was all dressed up his favorite suit, leaning down to place a kiss on her lips and hummed, “You look lovely this morning.”

“You say that every morning.” She replied.

“Because that’s correct, you always look lovely in the morning.”

“And at night?”

“I can’t say that with straight face, doll.”

“Silly man.”

“You love me for it.”

“That I do.”

The two sat down and ate breakfast, listing the plans for today and hearing the soft hums that played from the radio. Sadly, time was of the hour and not a moment later, resulting in the brunette man to scurry off to work not without lacing a few more kisses on his wife’s face.

“Have a nice day!” She called out from the door.

“I will! And remember we have dinner plans tomorrow night!” He called out, touring the car onto the highway.

She headed back inside, cleaning up the living room as she guided herself towards the magazines on the kitchen table with a smile. The pictures were just dreamy. The nicely tuned housing, the radio in the living room, the tv placed right in front of the couch, the curtains evenly sized for the windows, the coffee table filled with magazines and a flower pot of daisies.

——

She sighed happily at the sight, suddenly hearing a doorbell. Who could possibly ruin her perfectly good morning?

She ran up, stringing her dress and opened the door, “Good morning, how may I help you?”

“Why hello dear, I’m Agnes! Your next door neighbor.” She replied with a smile.

“Next door neighbor? Pardon darling, but my next door neighbors is Marlene and her wife.”

“Oh right! I meant next door neighbors on the other side of the block.”

“Is there anything you need, dear?”

“Yes! I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to meeting our NEW neighbors? They just moved in.”

“I’m rather busy, maybe next time? I have dinner plans to prepare.”

“It would only be just a moment, I promise. Besides everyone in WestView should be welcome with open arms, correct?”

“Correct, let me get my bag.”

She followed Agnes out of the door to their next door neighbors around the block, Ms. Vision.

——

Meanwhile her husband appeared rushing into work, and not a second later! He slid into his chair behind the new man at the office, Vision. But his gaze was quickly brought to the brunette woman sitting next to him with a smile. His best friend his childhood grinned brightly as his hair swift to the side typing on the keys of the typewriter, filling in and out paperwork.

“Morning, Nikolai!” She with a grin, handing her best friend the paperwork for him to fill out.

He took the copy of the work and replies, “Morning! How’d you sleep?”

“Alright I guess? The dog from Mr. Jetsons kept me up all night.”

“That was the dog? I thought it was my stomach growling.”

Both laughed at their banter. That was when their boss, Mr. Hart came in talking with all the men and women at the office building. He remarked, “You remember tonight’s plan, ay Vision?”

The blonde man with glasses, “Huh? Oh yes, sir, Mr. Hart!”

“Good because I like a good meatloaf! Hope your wife can cook just as well.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Hart! My wife is a master in the kitchen.”

The two men talked, it was clear to Marlene and Nikolai that Vision forgot about today. He looked uttered lost, like he had a screw loose or something?

Marlene stood up from her desk and carried herself over to Vision saying, “Hey it’s alright. Mr. Hart just wants to see his employees make good impression.”

“Why yes but what do I do? It’s tonight! I had nothing planed.” Vision admitted, running a hand across his blonde locks.

“It happens to everyone! I remember my first dinner with our boss, I practically fumbled over my words and my wife had to save my skins.”

“Really?”

“Yeah but after a few seconds, I pulled myself together.”

Nikolai chuckled leaned over his desk, “Hey man, don’t sweat it! Just call up your wife and see if there is anything that you can do.”

“Oh yes, right!” He said, dialing his wife waiting for her to pick looking over his shoulder, “And thank you..?”

“Nikolai. And that’s Mar!”

“Thank you. Both of you are too kind.”

“It’s no problem, you’ll get the hang of it.”

——

Amelia and Agnes arrived a Wanda’s household. There were plenty of disagreements, trying to coax Wanda on how an anniversary should be spent with your spouse, playful remarks that had an underlying concern to them. But women laughed, including Wanda who took a liking to both girls. She heard the phones and picked up, realizing it was her husband as she spoke with him. Sending signals for both ladies, to take notes about her plans for tonight.

Agnes left soon enough, leaving Wanda alone with Amelia to get ready.

She was brushing the light redhead hair as she asked, “Amelia?”

“Yes Wanda?” She replied, pinning the curls.

“I heard you say to Agnes you have been together longer than us. How long?”

“Since after the wars ended, my fiancé and his best friend returned home safely. And soon we were hitched.”

“Was it lovely?”

“It was. I remember the look on Melissa’s face seeing her best friends get married. We had our honeymoon and you know the rest.”

Wanda chuckled, “Oh yes I do! My husband didn’t go to the war, he stayed behind to help with performances and engines on machines.”

“That sounds daring.” Amelia chuckled, “I remember my husband returned home a little hurt, he bruised his leg but he was fine. Now we’re married then got our puppy.”

The short redhead spinner around in her chair, “You have pet? You didn’t leave him alone did you?”

“He’s only 6 months old, big boy, and staying with a friend for the weekend.” Amelia explained. 

“Aww that’s sweet.”

“I should get going, bye love!”

“Bye!”

“And remember, share tonight like it’s your last.”

——

Nikolai drove up to house down the block away after work with flowers and knocked on the door.

As they door opened, it revealed a set of glasses, pin up curls and a lovely flared out dress.

“Aww for me?” She asked in a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, “No Mel. Theses are my wife, yours is coming home later with a surprise for you.”

“Ooh can’t wait! And someone is excited to see you.”

“Where is he?”

In came a strong pair of footsteps hurrying out the door to face his owner. Arrow barked and wagged his tail as Nikolai ruffles behind his ears and kiss his furry face, causing Arrow to lick his own. Melissa chuckled and pats the very dog on top of his head before asking how are things at home with the misuses as he repiled ‘As good as ever.’

With that he left waving at his friend was the same time Marlene arrived home herself. Perfect timing.

~~~~

The man of the hour arrived home with the barking joy following him, knowing his wife had no idea of the little surprise as he held up flowers in the other hand. Walking across the the doorway into the living room, he met the frame of his wife reading a magazine humming with a smile.

He chuckled, reaching over setting his suitcase on the floor with a small thud that catches anyone’s attention. It caught her attention, as she looked up to see her husband and dog.

She chuckled getting up from the couch leaning into to kiss her husband with a soft smile. He gladly returned the kiss reaching down to wrap his hand around her waist, as Arrow stood in-between them barking as if to say ‘I’m here too! Pay attention to me’. She rolled her eyes and held Arrow’s face in her hands pressing a kiss his cheek as he wagged his tail as if to say, ‘There’s the sugar!’

“Is that why your home late?” She asked following him into the kitchen to finish stirring up the pasta, she was making for the two of them.

He placed a bowl of doggie food on the floor next to the table and repiled, “I know we both stay away from him for long.”

“You just him to sleep in your bed with us dear.”

“Guilty as charged.”

As they ate dinner, Nikolai remembered what else happened today at work, bringing up the topic of their neighbors again. Having both met the newest couple in WestView today.

He chuckled, “I hope Vision and Wanda are doing alright tonight.”

“What do you mean?” She asked with a curious smile.

“You didn’t know? Mr. Hart is having Vision host a dinner for them tonight. You know to impress his boss and have his job fully secured.”

“No? Tonight is their anniversary, Wanda said it herself. Their was a heart on the calendar.”

“Then Wanda is mistaken because the heart of the calendar was for Mr. and Mrs. Hart.”

“Ohhh…oops?”

“We’ll see on Monday if he gets the job or not.”

Both couldn’t help but laugh, smiling brightly.

~~~

That’s all folks! Tell me what you think?

Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @meiramel @gcthvile @rickb-chaos s @gaminggirlsstuff @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @luna-d-marsh @rooster-84 @thecavalrywife @cherrysft and etc

~~

[tryslora]

...that storm was NOT supposed to be like that

We had a storm last Saturday.

I think my husband cursed us. We live in the northeast of the US, so our usual big storm time is January and February. It was starting to get nice out, kind of springlike weather, and he commented that we hadn’t had a really bad storm all winter, and now it was over.

Ohhh, never say that where the world can hear.

The storm was predicted to be a non-event. They said it would be rain for most of the day, with 2-5” of snow in the evening. Maybe a short period of an inch and hour rates of snowfall during that time. Some ice. Some wintry mix. Overall, though, not a lot of accumulation or fuss.

I was supposed to have my knit group that day. In the morning, we started chatting in text because we woke up to trees already covered in ice, thick enough to glisten in the light. Rain poured down, the temperature of 34F warm enough to let it fall, but not warm enough to melt the ice. It wasn’t bad… but… the ice sticking to the trees seemed like a warning.

That, and the fact that traffic reports were rolling in—accidents on the highways, including one that closed the main highway I live next to (one direction was completely shut down for hours).

We decided to push our knitting meetup to the next weekend. I’m really glad we did.

Mid-afternoon, the rain turned to ice, sleeting down. I heard tiny balls of ice pelting against the boarded up air conditioner. The dog was anxious and displeased.

Then came the snow. The thick flakes started falling around 3:45pm—I happened to note the time when I looked out the window to see it. I figured that meant maybe we were close to the end of the storm, although they’d predicted it would go until 11ish. Hah. No. Over the next three hours we got 9” of snow. You read that right—three inches per hour. That was the worst of it; we topped out just under a foot.

Except… the power went out at 4:45pm. I’d just tossed a load of laundry in the wash—that laundry marinated in soapy water in a locked front-loader for about 36 hours in the end. When we checked the website (I tethered my phone to my laptop), there was no crew assigned, no estimate on power restoration. Pretty much the whole town was out.

In the end, something like 85,000 people (I think it was) were without power from the storm, over several towns. It depended on exactly what band of the storm a place was in. Ten minutes to the southeast, my parents got far less snow, and had no power problems. West was more snow, but no heavy ice, same with north. We happened to hit the sweet spot.

So there we were, sitting in a house that was getting darker by the moment. The sunroom is the only room with decent windows; husband and I hung out there to get what light we could until the sun went down. We lit candles, and used flashlights. He read on his Kindle. I read a book using a flashlight I have that goes around the neck.

Normally we’d watch TV in the evenings, and while we could have streamed on a laptop, we didn’t know how long we’d be out of power and didn’t want to risk draining our devices. So no writing for me. No streaming. No gaming. I couldn’t knit, because for me, knitting is a multi-tasking thing and I couldn’t stream and knit at the same time.

So much reading. When we still didn’t have power the next evening, there was more reading. We escaped to the mall for food and a movie during the day.

The worst part was the water. Our house is on a well. If you’re used to being on town water, you’ve never had the oh-so-fun experience of the well pump being without power. For us, no power means no way to draw the water up. So we flush rarely. Drink bottled water. Buy baby wipes for hand-washing (and “bathing”). 

In a way, it was a peaceful experience. I enjoyed getting so much reading done. I had no guilt at all about not doing something else. Maybe I could’ve written long-hand, but my brain was happy to let go for a bit. I read an entire book, and some manga. I curled up on the couch and enjoyed the experience as best I could. Make lemonade, right?

The power came back on while I was getting ready for bed on Sunday. It had been out for about 30 hours, and we had expected it to be out for another 24. Getting it back was a delight. Even more thrilling was turning on the faucet in the kitchen and getting full water pressure which meant I probably didn’t need to prime the pump (excellent, since husband was already asleep). I didn’t dare start up the washer again, though, just in case. Making the pump go dry while I slept would be bad. My poor laundry continued to marinate until morning.

We were able to keep all the food safe. Our routine went out the window, and no prep was done for the week. I was able to shower on Monday morning before work (thank the gods). But the whole week was thrown off-kilter. I’d slept in a very cold bedroom—the air had made my allergies and sinuses worse. My taekwondo uniform was the load of laundry stuck in the washer, so no TKD for me on Monday because I was still washing (and rewashing—marinated laundry tends to stink of gross water) that uniform after work. No food prep was done, so we’ve been making do all week.

But in a weird kind of way, we were able to relax and let go for a bit. We couldn’t clean, or cook, or write, or do anything we usually would. We read. We relaxed. We chatted. We spent time with the animals. It was… nice.

I’ll be glad to get back to the routine this weekend, though. Because of course, now we have twice as much to do.

And I’m not going to say that was the last big storm of the season. I would never dare to do so; who knows what might hear me and decide to prove me wrong!

[mccookiemonster]

No Ordinary Love Story

Chapter 2

A few weeks have passed since the whole incident and a lot has happened. Louie was accused of killing Claudia and taken into police custody, Franklin is doing business with Manboy, and Franklin spent a couple of days out of town with Avi. While all of that was happening Andre was working to build a police team to help take down Franklin and his family to stop him from destroying the community even more than he has all already done. Franklin did try to reach out to you but you ignored all his calls, pages and his knocks on your bedroom window, but of course when you weren’t home he snuck into your room with the help of your grandma and left flowers, a card, and some money to let you know how sorry he is. You of course threw away the cards and flowers and kept the money, with the money you got your hair done, nails, and got yourself a new outfit for the skating rink that you were going to the Shon-shon and her friends.

Right now you just finished getting your hair done at your cousin’s house. You got some classic box braids.

“Ooo girl you always get me right!!” I said while checking my hair in the mirror.

“Girl I will always do y-STOP ALL THAT ROUND AROUND MY HOUSE THIS AINT NO DAMN ZOO!!!” she yelled at her kids running around screaming like headless chickens.

“Smh, please never have kids” she said with an eye roll.

“Trust me I won’t, I don’t want them to end you like yours”.

“Watch yourself now my kids ain't that bad”.

“Surrrre, well I see you later thx boo” I said kissing the side of the chick before walking out the door. As I was walking out there was a group of guys sitting on the porch next door smoking, drinking, talking. As i'm walking to my car they started whistling trying to get my attention.

“AYE SHAWTY WIT THE FAT ASS” one yelled.

“DAMN YOU LOOK GOOD”

“COME OVER HERE A GIVE DADDY A RIDE” he said while grabbing his meat.

I walked around to the drivers side of the and gave them the middle figure with a sarcastic smile. One had enough courage to come up to my car and open the door for me. He was tall, nice smile, waves, and was walking like he had a big dick and knew how to use it.

“Wassup ma” he licked his lips and smiled.

“Nothing, just trying to go home” I got in the car and closed the door. He bends down and puts his face through the window.

“What's your name”

“You first”

“They call me manboy”

“HAHAHA-im sorry-it’s just manboy really” said while giggling. He smirked “wanna find out why they call me manboy”

I started my car up “Boy bye. Look I got to go”.

“Ok here’s my number” I took the paper and put it in my purse and I began to drive off.

“CALL ME” he yelled as I got farther away.

I arrived home shortly and saw my grandma sitting in front of the tv watching The Cosby Show while folding laundry. I greeted her and made my way to my room to take a nap. I woke up and saw that it was 7:20. I had to be out of the house by at least 8 to drop my nana off at bingo then make it to the skating rink by 9. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to shower. After I finished I lotioned up and put some jean shorts and a plain white cropped top on. I walked over to my vanity and put on some bracelets and necklaces and sprayed some perfume.

“Nana are you already!” I yelled

“Girl, I've been ready for the past 20 minutes. I'm just waiting on your slow ass. Making me late for bingo and shit. She yelled back, mumbling the last part.

“Ok I’m ready lets go” I said walking out of my room into the living room grabbing my keys and purse. We walked out of the house to the car and started making our way to the community center where bingo was going to be at. After a few minutes we finally made it and the community center was filled with old people. “Will you need a ride back?” I said while pulling up to the front.

“No baby, I'm staying the night with Earl” she said, pulling out her mirror and applying lipstick.

“Ewwwww gross nana” I said, making a disgusted face.

“ Oh hush just because I look old don’t mean I-”

“Ok I don't want to hear anything else please.”

“Hello ladies,” Earl said, walking up to the car and opening the door for nana.

“Hi Earl” my nana said in a flirtatious tone.

“Hi Earl” I said while rolling my eyes in a playful tone.

“Have fun but not two much fun you two”. They just laughed and waved me off as they made their way in. I drove off and made my way to the skating rink where everyone was already waiting for me. I pulled into the parking lot and found a parking spot. I got out, locking the door and making my way in. As I went in and grabbed a pair of skates. I looked around for my friends and finally saw them sitting at a booth talking. I made my way over and Shon Shon was the first to notice me.

“HEYYY GIRL,” she yelled. Everyone turned to see me walking over. I laughed and waved.

“Hey guys” Everyone greeted me even Melody’s fake ass but she only didn’t so I can see her clinging onto Franklin to let me know that she’s here with him. At that I rolled my eyes.

“ Come on guys, are we just going to sit and look stupid or are we going to go out there and skate?

“We was waiting for your slow as.” Leon said

“Well I’m here now so lets gooooo.”

･ﾟ:* :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ･ﾟ: :･ﾟ

Hey guys I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while I've just been busy with school but i'll try and update as often as I can!!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter even though it was kind of a filler and I was just trying to get something out for you guys

Please excuse spelling and grammar mistakes.

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[volkodava]

Jundori headcanons

Okay, I thought for a long time whether to publish or not, but I have accumulated a number of headcanons for Junpei/Chidori from Persona 3. It can be time from original p3, timeline p4au and post-canon. I warn you right away that English is not my language, so there may be errors, but I hope you enjoy it!

***

When, for some reason, Junpei was not allowed to see Chidori at the hospital, he tried to climb through the window with the help of Makoto and Akihiko with flowers in his teeth. Spoiler: climbed up, but then, when trying to escape from the suddenly appeared Mitsuru, he fell into the bushes, scratched everything he could, and then tore out the thorns for half a day.

***

Every Sunday, Junpei brings a bouquet of sunflowers to Chidori. This is not discussed.

***

Junpei always escorts Chidori home at night. Even if she comes from somewhere alone. Even from the other side of the city. Even at 2 am. He will yawn, fall asleep on the go, but he will come anyway, despite any protests, because her safety is more important.

***

When they start live together, Chidori barely knows how to cook. But unlike Fuka, who can destroy half a kitchen, Chidori mostly harms only herself: her hands are constantly in plasters, microburns, cracks, and so on.

When Junpei finally gets to the bottom of the truth (which turns out not to be easy, because Chidori answers everything with "It doesn't matter"), he asks in complete confusion why she ruins her "beautiful hands", because he, in principle, does not force her do something around the house. To which Chidori angrily declares: “You helped me for so long, even when I didn’t really know you, and now you are working on several jobs. If you are so concerned about our living together that we do not need anything, then my concern is to maintain comfort from the inside. Do you really think that in gratitude for all that you do, I cannot learn at least tolerably cook?"

This issue was not raised between them again. Though that never stopped Junpei from periodically throwing a "romantic dinner" for her. And Chidori's hands, in principle, quickly returned to normal (to the delight of Junpei).

***

At some point, they start a "kiss before leaving" tradition. One day, Junpeu's work schedule changes and he is forced to leave much earlier in an attempt not to wake up the Chidori. But she, sleepy and displeased, catches him at the exit, scolds him for leaving quietly, kisses him on the cheek and goes back to sleep. And Junpei remains standing at the door with a smile and thinks how lucky he is.

***

Jundori support each other's hobbies, despite the fact that they themselves get tired at their jobs.

That is, Junpei, tired of studying and training, still sits down to watch Chidori draw. True, he falls asleep from fatigue on the same sofa, so Chidori covers him with a blanket and continues to quietly draw next to him.

And at the same time, Chidori herself does not miss a single of his matches, and even if the game goes on late at night, she will still watch TV in the living room in a souvenir T-shirt with his number. So when he returns after the match, Junpei finds her sleeping in front of the TV and carries her back to the bedroom in her arms each time.

***

Junpei after p3 takes responsibility for Chidori because she has no family, no real friends, no proper education. And he gets used to this role so much that by the Arena timeline (or immediately after), when they are already dating, maybe already living together, etc., he begins to perceive her almost like a wife even before he proposes. And at some point, in a conversation with someone on the phone, he starts talking and exclaims something like "Actually, I take care of MY FAMILY!"

And Chidori, who accidentally hears this, is like:

***

After the age of 25, Junpei begins to develop premature gray hair, and this is hereditary from his father. This is another reason why he always wore a baseball cap. Just as a child, someone jokingly intimidated him, they say, at the graduation you will be gray-haired. Then, however, everything cleared up, but he was already used to the headdress.

But when Junpei's hair really starts to turn gray, he, like a true drama queen, begins to theatrically lament "I'm only 30 years old, and I'm already an old man!", to which Chidori rolls his eyes every time.

***

According to Persona 4: Arena Ultimax, Junpei often dreamed about how his team won a prestigious match and from the stadium he proposed to Chidori to marry him.

But imagine that in reality the team loses miserably and returns with nothing after a long flight. At home, Junpei meets Chidori, who tries to cheer him up, but he brushes it off, saying it's okay, and starts talking about all sorts of other interesting things that they could see.

At some point, he exclaims "Oh, that's right, I brought you a gift" and takes out of his backpack ... a stone. Just a round, even stone from some coast. Surprised, Chidori stands with this stone in her hands, not understanding what the joke is, and Junpei, as if nothing had happened, continues to talk about the fact that in his free time he managed to look into the local zoo.

"Yeah, it was pretty cool, the penguins are so funny. They have funny rituals, by the way, you know? Like how the male spends a lot of time finding the perfect pebble and then brings it to the female penguin he likes to offer her, like, build a nest together and hatch the chicks..."

At this point, Chidori understands the meaning of "gift", but she doesn't even have time to say anything, because Junpei continues: "Listen, I know that I'm not the smartest, I'm still like a child and often I do stupid things, but I would like to... well... "make a nest" with you."

All that Chidori can think at this moment is "God, I seriously live with this man, why does he have everything through one place, it's so stupid, of course I agree." _______ Chidori: Don't tell me you've scoured the ALL coast to find that stone. Junpei: I have scoured the ALL coast to find this stone. Chidori: ... Junpei: Trust me, it's not the craziest thing I've ever done in my life. Chidori: I'm intrigued.

***

Some time after the wedding, Chidori begins to feel unusual. She is constantly in high spirits and even a state of euphoria for no reason. It’s not that it was something outstanding, after all, and she is doing what she loves, and her husband is at hand, who will at least get a star from the sky for her, but basically she behaves more restrained. But then a sudden tactile hunger is added to this. She constantly needs touches: if you walk, then by the hand / under the arm, if you sit or lie down, then in an embrace, hugs, kisses and all that.

It wasn't that Junpei was particularly opposed, quite the contrary. He is "a block of flaming love", just give him a reason to cuddle his dear Chidorita. But, nevertheless, the reasons for this behavior remain a mystery to both of them.

That is until Chidori decides "for the calm" to take a pregnancy test.

And when, a few years later, Junpei again notices exactly the same behavior, everything immediately becomes clear to him.