#Take a trip that's six hours once or twice a year and that's like. Just one state away!

[alexaloraetheris]

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

[astralikacastle]

Also occurs to me that soda fountains might not be a common thing internationally! You see them in fast food restaurants too but in gas stations they are often bigger/more. (This is three standard machines side to side to accommodate multiple flavors/types of drink)

And depending on how large your gas station is (usually the ones this big are at stops where it's Just a gas station/rest stop) they can be much bigger.

And in that first shot you can see the price listing for a 52-ounce, which isn't common but does exist, and again, is a drink that's supposed to last you a while.

Do you guys have lorge drinks? Or is that really only an American thing?

Define lorge

[livwritesstuff]

Steve’s oldest daughter Moe is unusually quiet on the drive home from her college apartment in New York City.

She was supposed to be doing this drive with her younger sister Robbie (who had bullied Steve and Eddie into letting her bring a car with her to college), but then Robbie and her friends had actually managed to squirrel away enough money for an impromptu trip to D.C. for their spring break, and Moe had still wanted to visit home even without a ride.

Steve had made a whole show acting all put out over having to make the four hour drive between her school in NYC and their house in the Massachusetts suburbs (twice, he’ll add — he’s been on the road for six hours so far with a couple more to go) but, truthfully, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to spend time with his kids, especially since the older two have firmly graduated to young-adult status, and he easily could have put her on a train.

“So what’s goin’ on with you, Moe?” he finally asks when the quiet stretches a little to far.

Moe shrugs, and then she says, “I was wondering something.”

“Go for it.”

“You and Dad, like…you were older when you started dating, right?”

Steve pauses for a moment, allowing himself to consider what might qualify as older to his twenty-one-year-old daughter. 

“I guess it depends on what you mean by older,” he settles on telling her.

“I mean, you weren’t in high school anymore, even though you knew each other in high school.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “I was halfway through grad school, so twenty-six, I think, and you know Dad’s not even a year older than me.”

Moe nods in return, and  then she asks, “And you were friends before anything else happened? Like, for a while?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies, “Dad, and Aunt Nancy, and Aunt Robin were my best friends. Still are, obviously, just…different over time.”

“But, like, how–” Moe stops, and Steve can tell without needing to look away from the road to check the way her eyebrows are furrowed, the way they’re crinkled in the middle just like they always are on the rare occasions Moe can’t find the words she needs. She lets out a short exhale, “How did you know that it changed?” Before Steve can answer, Moe shakes her head, “How did you know that what you were feeling wasn’t, like, friend things anymore? Or, like, that it was more than just friend things.”

“Uh,” Steve pauses, running a hand through his hair, “Honestly, Nancy kind of told me.”

Moe’s head turns in his direction.

“Aunt Nancy told you?” she asks, “Pop…that’s so lame.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happened.”

“Why?”

Steve thinks about it for a second. It’s funny, he doesn’t actually put too much thought into that time in his life – the seven years that had lapsed between becoming friends with Eddie in the aftermath of everything with the Upside Down and when they’d finally gotten together. That was nearly thirty years ago, after all, and Steve hasn’t ever really been the type to dwell on the past. He takes a moment to dwell on it now and remembers how long it had taken him to notice the dull ache behind his ribs and the anxious somersault his stomach had done every time Eddie so much as looked his way.

“I mean – yeah, you’re right. It’s…it’s not easy when you’re close with someone for a long time and then the way you feel about them changes, because, you know, it’s not – I mean, it’s not like it changes overnight. It’s gradual, so…yeah, it’s not easy.”

“Yeah,” she quietly agrees.

“Nance, just – well, you know Nance. She just clocked it before I did, and I guess she didn’t have the patience to wait it out. Once I knew though, it was, like, super fucking obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known before.”

Moe’s laugh is nervous in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard before, and if there’s a friend of Moe’s she might be feeling differently for, he thinks he might have an idea which one. Moe is a hell of a lot smarter than him though, and this conversation is telling enough that she won’t need things spelled out for her in the way he had with Eddie thirty years ago.

“It was hard,” he continues, because he has a feeling Moe might need to hear more even if she isn’t asking for anything specific, “I – I mean, I actually liked dating when I was your age, believe it or not. I thought it was fun, or whatever, and it wasn’t really a thing that made me nervous, you know? With your dad, though…shit, I was terrified, because it’s a different kind of risk than just shooting your shot with someone you run into and hit it off with.”

Moe nods.

“I think the reason it’s so freaky is because falling for someone you’re friends with is never just a crush. I knew there was something big there. I know you guys hate when Dad and I are all sappy, but he was never just some guy I was dating. He was it for me from the very beginning.”

Moe mumbles something under her breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I don’t hate it,” she says, her voice still pretty low, and Steve knows that must have been difficult for her to admit so he doesn’t comment on it (though he will be telling Eddie as soon as he possibly can – obviously).

“Well, I’m just saying,” he replies, “I wasn’t feeling that way for nothing, and things turned out pretty good in the end. If someone was in a similar situation, I’d tell them…” he pauses, and then laughs as he says, “I’d tell them to not wait seven years to get a good thing started.”

“Alright,” she replies, “I’ll…yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

[sscieloz]

Mystery of Love

Hirai Momo x Member!reader

Synopsis: the group’s comeback is approaching. There’s a full day of shootings waiting ahead of you. You should rest, but you can’t sleep.

Warnings: hurt/comfort. reader talks about her feelings.

Word count: 2.5k

Notes: I AM STILL HERE ! not my best, but still ^^

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5 | Pt.6 | Pt.7

—

Sometimes your thoughts were so loud inside your head you were sure everyone could hear them too. 

They were constant reminders of how everything was wrong in your life. The way you dealt with your loved ones, your daily routine, the way your brain worked, the words you chose to use in a conversation… everything was just deeply wrong. It was a constant reminder of how much you managed to mess up by just existing.

You could feel the familiar feeling starting to cripple your skin, followed by a million needles poking you at the same time. Yet, you knew that no matter how much you scrubbed, scratched, and hurt yourself, such feelings would never disappear. 

Said knowledge doesn’t keep you from running your nails all over your arms and abdomen, of course. At least the burning sensation was a vivid reminder that you was still hanging on. You were still alive; in Seoul, at the dorms, existing. You were not a ghost, and there was still hope. 

Like a mantra, you whispered the words in the dark, running your hands through your face to calm yourself down. The pressure worked, but that uneasy feeling still lingered, guilt-tripping your guts.

It’s been nearly six months since the episode, shouldn’t you feel any better already? You’ve been following your diet religiously, attending therapy twice a week, and working on reaching out whenever you felt one of your crises coming up— yet it seemed like it was all in vain. Despite all of your efforts, you still felt so wrong. 

How scary is it, to know that the anxiety was carved deep in your bones as part of who you were? 

Terrifying, indeed. 

You’ve done a great job convincing the girls of your progress, reassuring them there was no need to push their first comeback of the year. You told them it was fine to attend photoshoots, rehearsals, mv shootings, and go through promotions without fuss. 

Which was the truth, in a way. The staff were always kind and understanding to you, kind as they encouraged you to take short breaks after every hour or so. You felt seen, along with the strength and protection your unnies provided.

However, going to any pre-recorded events was still something scary. Especially one as important as Music Bank, where Onces would be ogling you with such attentive eyes. Not judging, naturally, but staring with their eyes full of hope… you couldn’t disappoint them, either. Not your fans, who loved you unconditionally, and your sisters, who have been nothing but patient and protective throughout these last months. They’ve done so much for you, who had nothing to give in return. 

Naturally, the girls would understand if you chose to be absent. They’ve told you so repeatedly, reassuring situation is completely understandable and that it’s incredible that you’re even participating in the comeback, but you know how much it hurts them to not be complete as a group. Without you, something is missing, even if it’s hard to understand what you could possibly add to these women, who already have everything. 

Joining them in their comeback was an honor, and you wouldn’t skip it for anything in the world. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do to have your unnies happy. 

The van will pick you up in the morning, so they’re all currently resting. And you’re exhausted— crushingly so, which is an easy thing to notice with no more than a quick look. Your new sleeping pills did not make the bags under your eyes go away, and you’re still bony, a shallow of the smiley, reserved maknae you once were.

Once again, your breaths grow rapidly, the pitch-black ceiling getting smaller with each passing minute, shrinking enough to trap your body inside the walls of your bedroom. You try to control your breathing by taking deep breaths to calm yourself down, just like your unnies usually do. Your apartment is too high up to hear the whistle of the trees or the noise of crickets, but somehow the stars in quiet night are enough. Those same stars, shining so bright in the late hours, remind you so much of the girls whom you share a home and a life with— your most loved ones, your soulmates. Let us in, Y/n, please. Let us help. they begged you, so loud in their silence. It pained them to give you space, as you’re well aware. If they could, they’d just wrap you up in a bubble and protect you from any sorrows. 

If only they could. 

You’re not alone. You don’t have to struggle by yourself. You can come to us.

With that in mind, you drop your covers and leave your bedroom, walking to the corridor in quiet, unhurried steps. It’s only once you reach the third room on the left that your long, delicate fingers brush the door, with barely any force. It opens easily, thanks to their no-locking policy, and you observe the room for a moment before settling in. 

Momo and Nayeon share a bedroom, just like old times. The room is vast— big enough for two queen-sized beds, and visibly messy. Clothes hang everywhere, either on the ground or left in a pile in some of the open drawers. You squint your eyes to adjust yourself to the darkness and notices the nail supplies cluttered on their tea table. Letters, legos, stuffed animals… so many objects that make you nearly lose balance many times, as you make your way to a pitch-black dot lost amidst the thick covers of Momo’s fluffy bed. 

You don’t mind, though. If anything, you find yourself giggling quietly, amused by how the pair had turned the bland room into a home within a few weeks. 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for the members to accustomed to living together once again. It had been years since they’d decided to live apart, but your episode had made them make the decision almost immediately. You needed them, so they’d be there for you 24/7, guarding and offering their best support. Sure, your new apartment was much more luxurious and spacious than any of their old dorms, but it was just as cozy and filled with love. 

And you needed that. You didn’t think so, naturally— fiercely advocating against their decision, terrified of making your bandmates change their lifestyle because of yourself, but they gave you no choice. In fact, you felt much like a baby as they moved things over and over, sitting down on the big couch while they did all the boring and hard work. 

It was nice to have the house noisy again, you noted. After so many years of living by yourself, you discovered you liked a little bit of chaos, especially those that came from your loved ones. You needed that. Once again, your unnies proved that they knew you best. 

You moved carefully to not wake Momo up, even though the dancer sleeps like a rock. Lifting the covers, you lowered your body until you were lying down in your unnie’s bed, staring at the older woman’s soft features. 

Momo was perfect in every way, and she was so _strong_, too. Not only with her toned muscles, she was a true pillar, taking care of her members so subtly they barely noticed. They were all drawn to her when things got rough. With her sleepish smile and round eyes, her easy laugh was like a beacon on a heavy storm. Talking to her was not only easy, it felt so freeing. You would always forget about your troubles for a few minutes, whenever they were together.

Without even noticing, your eyes start to water—you were so loved, and what for? What have you done to deserve such a honorable feeling? It’s hard to suppress your hiccups as tears start to water Momo’s pillow. Then, almost instinctively, Momo’s arms are around you, holding and bringing you closer until your noses are nearly touching. 

You focus on Momo’s eyes, which are still only half-open, and on the sounds she makes, purring as she tries to shake the sleep from her body so she can stay awake. Her hand goes to your hair immediately, fingers running through your scalp in circles. The delicate movements of Momo’s fingers differ from your usual clumsiness, but it’s so soothing that you calm down immediately.

“Can’t sleep, baby?” You shake your head at the sound of her raspy voice, with trembling lips. Momo knows the crying will soon get worse if she doesn’t do anything, so she holds you closer, her grip extra strong, “No no, don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay… we’ll help you.”

It’s a routine you’re used to, by now. At first, it made Momo nervous to see you in such agony, sobbing so hard you choked over nothing, desperate for air. Then, Mina explained to her that it was a way of releasing the heavy feelings you kept bottled up for so long, which put Momo’s nerves a little bit at ease. Still, it broke her heart to see you hurting. Her sweet little maknae, who’s always been so, graceful, and quiet…

Yet, Momo couldn’t do anything to take all this pain from your chest. She’d take it all in a blink, were that possible. She’d take all of your sorrows and keep them to herself. 

Instead, Momo brushes the wet strands of your hair away from your face, greeting you with a sleepy smile. “Hello, baby girl. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Your nod is so subtle Momo finds herself brushing her eyes, wondering if she’d imagined it. There’s a big pause, and the dancer starts to drool as she fights sleep to listen. 

“I…” You speak, and it’s like you’re a trainee all over again: small and anxious and so filled with doubts all you want to do is curl up and disappear forever. You gulp hard to suppress another sob. “I c-an’t do it, unnie. Music bank, tomorrow. I can’t. It’s just, there will be so many people and so many cameras and the fans don’t  know I’m weak, and if I fuck the group’s image once again we’ll never be invited to anything ever and it’s going to be all my fucking faul—" 

You bury your head in Momo’s chest, unable to look at the dancer as you open up your fresh wounds. It hurts to know the amount of hate and backlash they group has gotten because of your scandal. You still didn’t even know who leaked your hospital chart, but JYP did a good work of putting it all under the carpet. And to make all of the denying real, you had to look put together to the public. 

You don’t remember the last time you looked like anything but a crystal piece of art, full of cracks and ready to shatter into a million pieces. 

Lithe fingers touch your skin once again, moving without rush to not startle or overwhelm you. Momo knows what you need: her presence alone is already so comforting. You get a glimpse of her short, black nails as the older girl runs them over your arms, then your torso. 

“Do you want to try mirroring my breathing, baby? You always do it so well.” She asks and you nod immediately. With your face against Momo’s chest, you follow the rhythm of your unnie’s heartbeats, focusing on that alone. “That’s it, dear. Good Job.” 

Everything is suddenly pitch black: there’s only Momo’s loving embrace and the way your bodies are naturally tangled, so close to each other that two become one and your sorrows slowly dissipate amidst the warmth. Love does heal, you’re proof of that. You know so because, even if your progress isn’t nearly as you’d envisioned it, it’s still there. You’re slowly working to recovery, no matter how much your stubborn self denies it. And it’s much due to their help: your bandmates, your loves.

Momo’s thumbs brush your cheeks, washing your tears away as the minutes turn your crying into faint sniffles. “You’ve been so brave, Y/n. I’m serious. All the effort you’ve been pouring into our new comeback… it’s impressive. But please, please know you don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready to do. We can wait, baby.”

And you knows they won’t pressure you by any means. Although sometimes, you wish they did. 

“I know, it’s just…” You sigh, untangling yourself from Momo so you can press your elbows onto the bed and run your hands all over your face, huffing with frustration. “I want to do it, unnie. I really do. I just don’t want to break in front of everyone and destroy our group’s image.” 

I don’t want to disappoint you again.

That’s what it was. Frustrating and tiring, to feel so unsure over something you’ve done a thousand times before.

“Y/n, look at me.” The dancer’s tone is imposing, so commanding you have no choice but to oblige immediately. “You’re the strongest person I know, and I admire you so much. We see you trying every day, baby, and it’s where we find our strength, too,” She adds, just as quietly, “On seeing you try. It makes me— makes us try to be better every day, too. For you. We love you, so much. And if it’s what you want to do, we’ll be with you every second of it.” 

How could you inspire them? It doesn’t seem possible. Not when you’re so weak, vulnerable and a complete mess. Your unnies are all so graceful and certainly much better at everything they do. You don’t understand Momo’s words, but it’s late, and you’re too tired to ask. So you simply nod, trying hard not to pout. 

It’s a different kind of sadness, one of not being able to give what your unnies so desperately want. The hopelessness is carved so deep in your bones you can’t do anything but sigh, shuffle, and turn until you’re staring at the ceiling and your hands are hidden under the covers, so Momo doesn’t notice how much they tremble.

“You can’t give me what I need.” You can’t fix what’s broken inside. You want to scream. I think I can’t, either.

“I can’t. I’m sorry for that.” She stops, staring down at you. Her dark orbs are filled with nothing but the purest form of love as she kisses your forehead and whispers, because it’s just the two of you together and the night is quiet, ever so private. “But I can love you.”

Those same loving arms evolve you again, and no more words are spoken. You don’t need to say anything else— no words suffice, not in any language. For now, Momo and you grow content falling asleep together, soothed by each other’s breathing and the promise of taking one step at a time. 

In Momo’s arms, you feel safe, respected, and loved. You fall asleep thinking you might be able to go through all of this, as long as you’re together.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 78

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, April 10th – Manchester Airport.

I've never been so excited to go on vacation. I'm sitting next to Lucy, holding her hand. We're waiting for our flight. Jenni and Alexia dropped us off an hour ago after we ate together, and now we're alone. It's soothing to be just the two of us, especially after the past few weeks.

"Excited?" Lucy whispers to me.

"Oh yes."

"It will be well-deserved."

We exchange a smile. After nonstop studying, tests, mock exams, and even working at the gallery with Grace for two Saturdays... Yes, I think it will be well-deserved. I've worked hard, but I don't regret it. It helped lift a huge weight off my shoulders. At least I've secured my spot at art school for next year. That's something. Now, as agreed with Lucy, I must step away from my studies for two weeks. It's difficult because my diploma is still on my mind. I worked hard, and I think I did quite well on my mock exams this week, but you never really know. In the meantime, I promised to make the most of these two weeks, so I’m trying not to think about it. The only thing I need to focus on is Lucy and our families.

"I was thinking we could go camping," I shared with Lucy.

"Camping, huh?"

"Yeah. We've talked about it so much. It would be a great opportunity. Or at least spend the evening on the beach! Oh my God, I’ve missed that so much," I said excitedly. "With a campfire, marshmallows, and—"

"Hey," Lucy laughed. "Relax. We'll have all the time to do whatever you want. It seems work has gotten to your head, huh?" she teased, running her hand through my hair.

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, pouting.

"Oh no," she smiled mischievously.

"That was the deal, remember? I had to give it my all until vacation and then calm down afterward."

"That’s true. You didn’t sneak any study materials into your suitcase, did you? Maybe I should have checked."

"Stop," I giggled. "I wouldn’t do that."

"Oh no. That's not like you at all."

I laughed harder and playfully slapped her thigh at her irony. It's true I thought about it, but I didn't do it. I really want to enjoy this relaxing vacation. After all, we're going back home.

"Hey, none of that," she said, intertwining our fingers after my playful slap. "We have to endure almost 3 hours together in the air, so let’s not start hitting each other."

"True, but we'll sleep through half of it, so you don’t have to worry."

"Speak for yourself. You're a real napper."

I smiled. It's hard to argue with that. I enjoy being calm in moments like this. Finally, boarding time arrives. This is going to be a long trip. My six-hour flight back to Barcelona will seem like nothing compared to the nineteen hours we're about to face, with a layover, no less. We settle into our seats after passing through security. It's a shame, but I won’t see Shay here. She explained that she tries to be on the Barcelona flight as often as possible because her boyfriend lives there.

"Do you take this trip often?" I asked my girlfriend, gazing out of the window.

I’m eager to take off, but also nervous. I've never liked flying to Portugal. I wonder how Lucy feels about it. I remember she's not particularly fond of flying either.

"I think I’ve told you before," she answered. "I visit my parents twice a year… although, that might change next year."

"Why? Because of me? Please don't say that. I haven’t even met your parents yet, and they're going to hate me."

"Why are you getting so worked up?" she laughed. "Of course not. The venue will take up a lot of my time. I'll have other things to do than visit them. They'll just have to come to me for once."

"Okay," I murmured.

"Are you still nervous about meeting them?"

"A little…"

"Everything will be fine, I promise."

I smiled as she brought my hand to her lips. She makes me feel like everything's going to be okay. It’s crazy.

"Come on, get some rest. The trip is long, so you might as well recharge."

"Doesn’t it bother you...?"

"Sweetheart, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for three weeks. I know you’re tired. Rest, this is your time."

"Okay," I murmured. "Promise you won’t let me sleep too long though? I don’t want to leave you alone for the entire trip."

"Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company when we land."

She nudged me to rest my head against her. I smiled and settled into a comfortable position. It’s true, a little rest wouldn’t hurt. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s time to relax, but before that... she’s right. I need some rest.

"Thank you," I murmured as I watched the takeoff through the window.

My eyelids felt heavy after half an hour. I tried to stay awake to keep Lucy company, but she seemed to avoid talking to help me fall asleep. It didn’t take long.

Sunday, April 10th, – Lisbon Airport.

It's either early or late... I’m not sure anymore. Now I remember why I hate jet lag. The good thing is the flight made me forget the time and regain some energy. I feel great, and I think Lucy does too. We’ve got silly smiles on our faces. We know we’ll finally be able to live safely here. We were so happy to return to our homeland. As we enter the terminal, I immediately spot my grandpa. Lucy must have sensed my excitement because she released my hand without saying a word, letting me run toward him. I immediately hug him tightly.

"I'm so happy to see you again! I missed you."

"And I missed you."

We pull apart, and I turn toward Lucy, who’s now by my side again. Before I even have time to introduce them, my grandpa asks:

"Well, is this the lucky one?" he says with a grin.

"Yes. Grandpa, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Charlie Batlle, my grandfather."

"Nice to finally meet you. Ona’s told me a lot about you."

She smiles genuinely, though I can tell there’s a bit of tension behind it. My grandpa chuckles and catches her off guard by giving her a big hug.

"Forget formalities with me, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet my granddaughter’s girlfriend."

I smile in return. I didn’t expect this meeting to go any other way. My grandpa has such a big heart. When I told him who I was coming with, he was thrilled. I expected nothing less from him.

"How was the flight?" he asks as we start walking.

"Long, but overall good."

"Oh yes, it’s quite a haul. But we’re glad to finally be here."

I let them chat as I take in my surroundings. Just feeling the ground beneath my feet is a pleasure. My legs had started to go numb from sitting for so long. The sun shines through the large windows, making me smile. I feel like a ball of energy. It's wonderful to be back, but also hard. The last time I was here was for my father’s funeral... I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as we grab our bags and head outside. The weather feels nice. A bit cool, but I’m not surprised given the time. It's early, and this time of year, we’re in autumn. I think we’ll be lucky. It feels mild, and we’ll be able to do lots of outdoor activities like we talked about on the plane.

"How’s the weather?" I ask my grandpa for his opinion.

- "I think you're going to be lucky in the next few days," he replies with a smile.

- "Great."

We walk through the parking lot, looking for his car. I spot it immediately, remembering it perfectly.

- "Oh, you still have your old pickup!? I can't believe it!"

I rush over to it, making my girlfriend laugh. I've always loved this car. My grandfather used to let me sit in the back whenever we took short trips. I expected him to have gotten rid of it by now.

- "It's a nice car," Lucy comments, running her hand over the bodywork. "1970 Chevrolet, right?"

- "Yes, that's right," my grandfather says, surprised. "You like cars?"

- "She loves them," I chime in before Lucy can respond. "She's a huge fan. If there's anyone you can talk to about your old cars, it's definitely her."

- "She's exaggerating," my girlfriend replies, a bit embarrassed. "I know a little thanks to my dad. He loves them, so I guess I inherited that from him."

- "Do you know a bit about mechanics?" he continues. "Because I think this old thing could use a little tune-up."

- "Oh. Well, I can take a look if you'd like. I restored my first car with my dad, and it was about the same age, so I think I can manage."

- "Really?" I say, surprised. "I didn't know that."

I knew she liked cars, but I never knew where it came from. Now I do. I think these holidays are going to be a way for us to learn more about each other. After all, we’re returning to our roots.

- "I wouldn't be as interesting if I told you everything all at once," she teases, making my grandfather laugh.

- "She's right! That's how I kept your grandmother for all those years."

He adores my girlfriend, it's obvious. I couldn't be happier. His opinion matters a lot to me. It's like my dad accepting her.

- "What was her name?" Lucy asks.

- "Mandie."

- "That's a beautiful name. We’ll have to keep it in mind for later."

I blush at this comment, which is clearly not a joke. It's obvious she means it. I think back to the conversation we had at the restaurant. She really does want to have kids with me someday. Finally, we pack our things into the back. Once we're done, my grandfather hands the keys to my girlfriend.

- "Oh, um..."

She looks at me, unsure of what to do. I shrug with a little smile.

- "I wouldn’t say no if I were you. You must be dying to, and let’s just say he doesn’t let just anyone drive his baby..."

- "Oh yes, that's for sure," confirms my grandfather.

- "I don’t even know the way," she tries to argue.

- "Well, we’ll guide you," I reply. "Come on, I'll sit next to you."

I snatch the keys from my grandfather and drag Lucy to encourage her to do it. I sit in the middle to stay by her side. I can tell she's feeling a bit awkward behind the wheel, but that quickly fades once we leave the airport. I smile because it's clear she's enjoying herself. The engine purrs, showing its age, but it still drives smoothly. It just needs a good clean-up. On the other side, I can see my grandfather is happy too. He was so excited to know we were coming. It's been a long time since anyone visited him. I know he knows a lot of people here, but it must be tough losing all your loved ones and being left without family nearby. In any case, he's in great shape. He hasn’t stopped talking the entire ride. I'm really glad I got some sleep on the plane; otherwise, I wouldn’t have handled this conversation as well given the time of day. On the other hand, I'm enjoying seeing Lisbon again. It feels like home. I smile when Lucy parks in front of the family house. It’s a little home that I’ve always been particularly fond of. We’re far from the city, and there’s a small beach just behind it. I’ve always found this place to be peaceful. Lucy must think the same, judging by the way she looks at the house with wonder.

- "You must be starving," says my grandfather as he gets out of the car. "I’ll go make you both some breakfast. Ona, why don’t you show her around the house while you wait?"

- "Yeah," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Yeah, of course. Thanks."

We get out as well, and I smile as I watch Lucy taking it all in. It feels strange to see her here, far from our obligations, but especially at my place. I finally feel like her girlfriend and not just her student.

- "Not bad, huh?" I ask, nudging her playfully.

- "It’s beautiful, indeed," she says with a small smile. "Is this the family home?"

- "Yeah... This was my dad’s last home," I confess.

- "Really?" she raises an eyebrow.

- "Yeah. He came back to live here after... my grandmother passed away and my parents divorced."

- "I see," she nods. "It’s a lovely place, though," she whispers. "You must have a lot of memories here."

- "Oh yes..." I breathe.

I squeal in surprise as we’re interrupted by a ball of fur that literally jumps on me. Lucy bursts out laughing and crouches down to greet the dog, who quickly forgets about me.

- "I can’t believe it! A little petting, and he’s off to someone else," I grumble, making my girlfriend smile.

- "Good thing humans aren’t like that. So, aren’t you going to introduce me?" she teases. "It’s an Australian Shepherd, isn’t it?"

I laugh, shaking my head.

- "Yes, that’s right. Let me introduce you to Buzz, the youngest member of the family. Well, sort of!" I giggle.

- "Wow. He seems like such a sweet dog."

I tilt my head with a smile, noticing she’s clearly no longer paying attention to me at the moment. Oh, so she really loves dogs, huh? Another thing I didn’t know. I crouch down too and finally manage to get the dog’s attention, along with Lucy’s.

- "Do you like dogs?" she asks me.

- "I do, yes. I didn’t know you were such a fan."

- "Oh, I love them, but they need a lot of attention, unfortunately."

- "That’s true."

I start petting Buzz too. I missed him. My dad wanted to get a dog so my grandfather wouldn’t be alone when he was away on missions. My grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but in the end, he’s the one most attached to Buzz.

- "Maybe we could consider getting one."

I look up at Lucy in surprise.

- "Really?"

- "Well, why not? Maybe not right away, but once we see how our schedule is next year. If everything works out, we could get one."

- "Definitely, yes!"

I nod enthusiastically, making Lucy laugh. It would be a great first step toward commitment.

- "Alright," she says, standing up.

- "I should really show you around the house," I announce, standing up too.

We grab our bags and head inside. It feels strange being here again... The last time I was, my dad was still around. It’s bittersweet because I’ve always loved his rustic style. Lucy must have noticed my change in mood because she gently places her hand on my back.

- "Will you show me our room?"

I smile shyly and nod. From where we’re standing, we can see the living room, but I lead her upstairs to our left instead. Lucy follows closely behind. The house isn’t very big, but it has three bedrooms and a bathroom just on the upper floor. Mine is at the end. When we walk through the door, we’re greeted by a room flooded with light from a large bay window that opens onto a small terrace, almost as small as my room itself. It’s barely big enough for a bed and a wardrobe, but it’s more than enough. I chose this room because I fell in love with the view of the sea. I’ve lost count of how many times I left the curtains open just to wake up to that view, accompanied by the sound of the waves. It feels like paradise. Nothing has been moved, yet I can tell everything is clean. My grandfather must have taken the time to tidy up.

"It’s lovely," she whispers, pulling me out of my memories. "Is that your dad? »

I nod as she points to a picture of us. To be honest, it's the last one we took together. We were in the back, by the sea, and he tried to throw me into the water when we had just arrived here. In the end, it made for a beautiful shot, taken by my grandfather.

"You look a lot like him," she says with a small, sad smile. "How about we take a walk this afternoon? We can visit his grave while we're at it."

"Really?" I reply, surprised. "I mean, I don't want to burden you with that. I would have done it another time, like when you go for your morning run."

"Don't be silly. I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."

I smile softly and nod. I didn't want to pressure her, but if it's her idea, I won't say no.

"Okay... Thank you."

"It's nothing. You seem uneasy... Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. It's just strange to be here..."

"You haven't been back since?"

"No," I admit. "We came back for the funeral, but..."

I take a deep breath. She has a right to know, after all.

"I didn't have the courage to set foot here again. I made my mom book us hotel rooms."

She nods in understanding.

"Come here."

She opens her arms, and I immediately snuggle into her embrace. She kisses my forehead, holding me tightly.

"It’ll be okay, alright? He wouldn't want to see you like this."

"I know... But it's stronger than me."

"Okay," she says, pulling back. "You know what? We didn't come here to mope around, so... How about we plan that stargazing night tonight instead? We can always take that walk another day. I can see you need a distraction."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. If I'd known there was a beach right behind the house, I would've agreed to this sooner. Might as well enjoy it while the weather's nice. It might not last long."

She's amazing... She always finds ways to lift my spirits. I smile and nod. There's no rush now that we're here, but I really like this idea to start things off.

"Great... And what do you say we help your grandfather now? I can already smell waffles, and honestly, I’m starving."

I laugh and nod. If there’s one thing that didn’t go well during the trip, it’s the meals over the past few hours. A good breakfast will do us good.

"Yeah... You're right. You’ll be impressed. His waffles are the best."

"Oh, really? Better than mine?"

"Um... Hard to say... But yes. I’d say so," I tease, grinning.

"Oh, really? I might need to remind you otherwise..."

"Wh-"

I don’t even get to finish my sentence before she attacks me with tickles. I burst out laughing, squirming to escape her grasp, but it's no use. I accidentally pull her down onto the bed, but she still keeps control. I tend to forget just how strong she is.

"S-stop, p-please."

"Oh, now you’re begging?"

I can barely catch my breath. Lucy slows down, but her laughter still echoes in my head.

"So? Are you going to admit my waffles are the best?"

I try to breathe, but giggles still escape. Her fingers hover threateningly over my stomach, as if daring me to give the wrong answer. I grin, deciding to play along.

"I’m not changing my mind," I say with exaggerated seriousness.

Her mock-offended expression makes me smile like an idiot. I love when we’re like this together.

"Oh yeah? And what should I do to change your mind, huh? Oh, I think I know..."

I laugh as her lips brush against my neck.

"Please. You can’t torture me like this."

"Oh really?" she whispers. "I think I’m the only one who has the right to torture you like this."

I wrap my arms around her neck. I can’t help it. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to start tickling me again, this time under my shirt. The sneaky move leaves me laughing uncontrollably, unable to defend myself.

"S-stop, stop! Okay, okay, you win! Yours are the best! Yours are the best!"

The torture stops at my pleas. The next moment, her lips meet mine, and I immediately relax. I laugh as I try to catch my breath. She really is the one I need, no doubt about it.

"See? That wasn’t so hard."

"Girls?" my grandfather calls out. "Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry."

"Well, look at that. We didn’t even get to help your grandpa."

"He’ll survive," I murmur before kissing her.

I wrap my legs around her waist, but Lucy doesn't seem to agree. Though she chuckles, she gently pushes them away.

"Sweetheart..."

"What?" I laugh. "He can wait two more minutes."

"Okay," she sighs.

She kisses me back. I smile as I feel her hand caressing my stomach. She doesn’t even realize how much she drives me crazy... or maybe she does, judging by the way I move my hips against her.

"Not here, and definitely not now," she teases. "We need to go down."

"But!"

I groan in protest, making her laugh softly. She’s so adorable, looking at me with her head tilted. Her eyes drift down my body, and I realize my shirt is pushed up to my chest. I quickly pull it down, which brings her gaze back to my face.

"If I don’t get to, neither do you."

"Oh, you’re like that now?"

"Yep. Too bad for you. You’re missing out."

I get up from the bed and walk down the hallway, purposely swaying my hips for her to watch. I can hear her laughing behind me, which makes me turn around to stick my tongue out at her. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to catch up and grab my butt at that exact moment.

"Don’t worry, I plan to take care of that during this vacation," she whispers to me.

"Really?" I reply, breathless. "If you stick to your rule of no hooking up under family roofs, we won’t be doing much of anything."

"Who said it would be in a bed?"

Her comment stops me at the top of the stairs. Did I hear that right? Where did my innocent girlfriend go!? It’s her turn to tease me with a playful smile as she walks into the living room where my grandfather is waiting for us. Oh my God. We’ve only just started our vacation, but I don’t know why, I feel like this will be the best one we’ve ever had. Then again, we came here... there's no other word. We understand each other, we live together. I’ve never had it so easy with anyone else. My father was right. In life, you only meet one true love. It doesn’t matter how many people come before or even after... but there’s only one, and you feel it instantly. You just have to be lucky enough to find them. I think I knew from the first day what Lucy would mean to me. I was scared at first. After all, we each tried to push the other away with all our strength... But once again, my father was right. You can’t avoid the inevitable. Fate wanted us to be together, and here we are. One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to repeat my parents' mistakes. Lucy is going to be my priority, and I’ll make sure to nurture our relationship. It’s my turn to show her she deserves the world. Smiling, I join her as she’s already deep in conversation with my grandfather about old cars. Yeah, this woman is perfect.

[mediumgayitalian]

previous chapter

———

The sunlight disorients him.

Usually, he wakes to a blaring alarm. If he has no alarm set, nothing planned for the day, he wakes when he cannot physically stand the taste of his own breath anymore, stumbling out of bed and ambling like a zombie for the nearest toothbrush. (On rare, rare occasions, he wakes to humming – low, drawling, lilting, floating around his darkened room, brightening it. He dreams about those mornings.)

He cannot remember the last time he woke to gentle sun.

Stretching, he takes a minute to catalogue the space as he wakes up, noticing the light curtains over wide windows, small TV tucked in between two double beds, and a desk, larger than he would have expected, taking up the far right corner.

Will is nowhere to be found.

“Jogging, mebbe,” Nico mumbles to himself; tiny, forgotten accent slipping out before he can stop it. Gingerly, he peels off the blankets and pads to the bathroom. Will’s blue-capped toothbrush sits next to the sink, quelling Nico’s ridiculous anxiety that Will, actually, has never been here at all, and Nico dreamed this whole thing up. He smiles slightly at the dorky stickers plastered all over the handle, colour mostly worn away, and the watch forgotten next to the soap dispenser. 

He hears a heavy door open and shut, pausing to make out quiet footsteps over the running water. Quickly rinsing the suds off his face, he towels off and steps back out into the hotel room, watching his friend.

Will has his back turned, hunched over the desk. He wears a hoodie, blue with big white clouds all over it – his favourite – and, of course, horrible cargo shorts. Nico counts seven pockets, and that’s just what he can see from the back. There is a book shoved in two of them, keys hanging out of a third, and an apple bulging from the pocket near his hip.

“Morning.”

Will jumps, whirling around. 

“You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry,” Nico says, not sorry. He’s grinning. “Were you out for a run?”

“I was out for a run hours ago, yes. It’s, like, ten-thirty, dude. You’ve been sleeping for eight hundred years.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They’ve had this argument more times than he can physically count, he refuses to have it again when he doesn’t have the upper hand. He’ll bring it up again when Will’s sleepy again at nine o’clock. “Where were you?”

Will steps to the side, revealing three separate heaping plates of food on the desk, piled high with eggs, toast, a muffin, bacon, and, of course, an entire plate devoted to fruit. Nico descends upon it like a swarm of seagulls upon a terrorized child’s ice cream cone – with fury, insatiable hunger, and endless hubris. He makes sure to ignore the fruit.

Five minutes later, he’s satiated enough to turn a percentage of his attention away from the food. He spins the desk chair halfway to face Will, instead, curled up on the bed with one knee pulled to his chest, watching him fondly.

“How many times did you almost drop this on the way up?” he asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Will’s smile drops, eyes narrowing. “Shut up.”

“Four floors, and there’s a good chance you took the stairs to keep the elevators for ‘someone who needs them more’, so –”

“I hate you.”

“– I’m guessing one time per flight of stairs? Oh, wait, there are three plates, definitely more –”

“I’m never doing anything nice for you ever again.”

“– and you have a new band-aid on your knee, so you definitely tripped and dropped it at least once.” He pops the last of the bacon in his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Twice? Three times? If you don’t tell me I’m going to assume six and move on.”

Will’s glare intensifies. He mumbles something.

“Hm?”

He mumbles again. Nico doesn’t even pretend not to be delighted. He knows the smile on his face is wide enough to make him look deranged, he simply doesn’t care. Opportunities to press Will’s buttons this beautiful do not show up every day. He must treasure them.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“Hadtogoback.”

“Gonna have to speak up, bud.”

“I had to go back!” Will explodes, hands thrown in the air. “I fuckin’ – I dropped the stupid plates, the first time, so I had to fuckin’ – clean it up and – two stupid trips, you jerk, you better appreciate this –”

Nico almost bites through his lip. “You dropped it?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Will says defensively. “I was concentrating really hard but –”

Nico loses it.

“– my shoe got caught on the last step and I didn’t have any hands to catch myself.” He scowls. “Three people saw.”

He can’t breathe. There are genuine, actual tears streaming down his face, burn in his eyes almost as bad as the burn in his lungs, the ache in his belly. He wraps his shaking arms around himself in an attempt to hold himself together, laughing so hard he feels like his muscles might actually rip themselves off his bones. Every time he tries to calm down, he pictures Will, in his dorky flip-flops, egg in his hair, half a muffin crushed on his cheek, bright red, sprawled on the ground, food everywhere. If he could think of literally anything else, he’d be worried about his heart straight-up failing. 

“I hate you. Actually.”

“I’m – oh my God,” he wheezes. He manages, finally, to get an actual breath in, desperately trying to think of literally anything else to calm down. Fucking – bumper to bumper traffic. Bedbugs. His father’s frowning face. That always works. “Holy shit, Will.”

“I should’ve just woken your ungrateful ass up.”

“Probably.” He flicks a grape at him, smiling. Will catches it in his mouth, rolling his eyes but smiling back. “Glad you didn’t.”

“Whatever.”

Nico finishes the rest of his breakfast in relative peace, managing to turn away if his mouth threatens to betray the tentative truce they’ve negotiated. He even eats one entire peach when Will starts pelting him with tiny hotel soap bottles and listing side effects of cholesterol-induced heart disease.

The second he finishes the last bite, Will orders him to clear off the desk. Nico mutters about bossiness and how Will is most definitely not in charge of him, doing as he asks. When he comes back – took him a hot second to shove the paper plates into a small enough ball to fit in the garbage can – Will has dragged the desk over to the bed, sitting criss-cross next to it, examining one of the many papers he has covering it.

“So,” he says, gesturing next to him. Nico dutifully sits, peering at the various maps and markings. “We gotta plan part two.”

“Didn’t we already do this?” Nico asks. “Back at Dunkin’s?”

“Not this far. I wanted to Preserve the Spontaneous Road Trip Spirit.” Nico can hear the capitalization.

“So, planning, then.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Nico smiles. “Brief me, captain.”

Will jumps right in, pointing and gesturing and every once and a while catching Nico’s eye to ask, right? Sound good?

Nico just watches him. 

The midday sun shines directly in his face, catching and reflecting on his pale eyelashes, making his eyes go squinty. His excitement is obvious, in his chattering, his waving hands, his bouncing curls; every part of him moving. Even his stupid cargo shorts look endearing, every other pocket bulging, filled absentmindedly with slips of paper or pens or bandaids or granola bars. Nico watches him and feels he might burst.

“You’re not listening,” Will accuses.

Nico jumps back into focus. “Yes I am.”

“What’d I just say?”

“‘You’re not listening’.”

WIll cracks a smile. “You’re not funny.”

“Run over that again,” Nico answers, and grins devilishly when Will does. Not funny his ass.

He listens, though, through Will’s second explanation. It’s not too hard – Will’s always been organised. The wide penciled circle around their location in Atlanta, outlining the area they can drive before their next fuel stop, is pretty wide. But the options are limited, in Nico’s opinion – while he’s sure there is indeed something to do in South Carolina, there’s nothing to do for him, specifically. He’s cool with skipping it.

“There is one place we can go,” Will says. His voice has gone oddly quiet, and after at minute he glances over at Nico, like he’s waiting for his permission.

“Your road trip, dude,” he murmurs, nudging their shoulders together. “I’ll even go to South Carolina if you want to, but no promises that I won’t complain about it.”

That, thankfully, draws a huff out of him, some of the tenseness fading from his frame. 

“South Carolina is beautiful, you know.”

“Says the boy who is currently visiting his third state ever.”

“...Touché.” He taps his pencil on the map, pink eraser thunking somewhere in the Bermuda triangle. “I was thinking – we could try Nashville? Music Row, or Broadway?”

Nico groans. “Oh, of course you wanna go hang out with all the goddamn hillbillies, you fuckin’ country boy –”

“It’s good music!”

Nico groans louder. Secretly, though, he watches his friend out of the corner of his eye, watches as his shoulders slump, relieved, and he knows he’ll spend as long as he needs in lasso-slingin’ Tennessee, following Will in and out of – barns and ranches and cowboy boot shops, probably. Are saloons still a thing?

He has a feeling that there is more to Will’s hesitance than a fear about being judged for his Marty Robbins obsession. If Tennessee is where he’s gonna get answers – well. He’ll brave the goddamn sea of cowboy hats.

A knock at the door startles them both. A voice calls hesitantly through the door: “Mr. di Angelo?”

“Wrong door, probably,” Will whispers after a moment. He looks to Nico. “Right?”

There’s another knock. “Mr. di Angelo?” 

“Yeah.” Nico rolls of the bed, landing on the floor with a grunt. “Another room with a Mr. di Angelo.”

He creeps towards the door, keeping low as if whoever’s outside can see him. After a moment, the bed creaks, and Will’s quiet footsteps pad behind him. 

“You think it’s room service?” Will whispers, plastered to the opposite side of the door. Even ducking, his hair brushes the edge of the peephole. 

Nico shoves his head down, pinching him when he squawks. “Be quiet, tall person, I need to see.”

“Get a stepstool then, jerk! Stop using my neck as a lever!”

“What part of be quiet are you missing! God!”

“Mr. di Angelo, please open the door.”

The voice on the other side of the door sounds amused. Face flaming, Nico shoves Will somewhere behind him, still bitching, and swings open the door. 

“Good afternoon,” says the man in the hallway. He’s dressed very smartly in a tailored black suit, nametag reading Eric. “Are you Mr. di Angelo?”

Nico clears his throat, trying to stand taller. “That’s me.”

“Good. I’m with Hotel Administration. We received a fax for you this morning?” He hands Nico a manilla folder. “First page says confidential, so we put it in the envelope. We tried to call this morning but didn’t get any response.”

Vaguely, Nico remembers a ringing phone. He also remembers yanking the plug out of the wall in sleep-deprived rage.

Oops.

Ignoring Will’s snickering, Nico thanks the man, closing the door and sitting on the nearest bed. Will scooches over to make room for him, tossing and catching a pillow. Nico leans back against the headboard, crossing his leg over Will’s.

“What’s in the envelope?”

“Checking now.”

The envelope is the cheap kind you get in a box of fifty; speckled brown, thin, machine-cut. It’s not sealed and so Nico flips it open easily, sliding out a small stack of papers. The first is a huge CONFIDENTIAL, printed diagonally across otherwise blank paper. The second is a bank statement. 

Nico shoots upright.

“What? Nico, what’s –”

“Mr. di Angelo, we regret to lose your business,’” Nico recites in a shaking voice, “‘but appreciate your time with us and wish you all the best with your future banking.’”

Frantically, he scans the document again. Successful cancellation. Expedited closure date. Transferred affairs to –

– parent account. 

“–co? Nico? Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

The air pushes out of Nico’s lungs like a crushed balloon. “Fuck.”

“Nico.” Warm hands press on his bloodless cheeks, fingers sliding in his hair. “Nico, look at me.”

He gasps. Will squeezes gently, eyes dark and stern and kind, thumbs callus-rough and dragging across his cheekbones.

“Good. Again. There you go, you got it.” 

Nico grabs his wrists when he tries to pull away. Will takes the hint, sliding his hands under Nico’s free one and knocking their shoulders together.

“What’s wrong, Nico?” 

Instead of answering, Nico sets the papers on the bed between them. Will squints, and for a second Nico prays that he’s wrong, that he’s mixed up the words. That it doesn’t say what it knows it does.

Then Will inhales, quick and sharp, and the hope is dashed.

“Your card…”

“Next page,” Nico says softly.

Niccolò,

The papers rustle as Will flips them, and this one he takes much longer to read. 

Vorrei sapere che ho fermato un caso di frode alla radice.

After a minute, he holds it out, shaking his head.

Un criminale ha rubato la tua carta di credito, e l’ha usata per comprare una stanza d’albergo in Georgia. Qualche spacciatore, non ci sono dubbi.

“It’s a little formal, I can’t –”

Ho disattivato la carta, naturalmente. Ti darò quella nuova appena ti vedrò.

Nico takes the scanned letter. Vaguely, he registers Will’s hands brushing up his arms as they move two wrap around his face again, this time forcing his jaw to unclench.

“Power play,” Nico snarls. His clenched fingers wrinkle the pulpy paper.  “He knows exactly where I am. If he wanted to drag me home, he could drag me by the fucking –”

“But instead he’s forcing you to call him,” Will says softly. “Oh, Nico, I’m so sorry.”

The hands drop from his face again. It knocks the cloudiness right out of Nico’s head, and he snaps up, frowning at Will’s crooking fingers, the bitten lips. He won’t meet Nico’s eyes.

“Why are you sorry my father’s being a haughty jackass who suddenly cares what I do with my time?”

“And his money.” Will picks up the bank statement, reading over it again, and again, like it might change. Like Nico’s credit card will magically become un-cancelled, like they will suddenly become un-stranded. “This whole stupid thing is my fault. I never should have dragged you into it, Neeks, I’m so –”

“If you apologise again I’m going to push you off the bed.”

“– sorry.” 

“Will.” Nico snatches back the statement, shaking his head. He waits until blue eyes meet his then smiles, as reassuringly as he can with such a pit in his stomach. “My father is –” He sighs. “It’s not about the money. You know he doesn’t care about the money.”

Will shrugs. It’s true – Nico has made dumber purchases. When he was twelve, he bought a trampoline, just to see if his father would say anything. Fifteen, marble statue. Sixteen, a car.

Then he stopped trying.

“How far can we go, on the gas we have? How many miles?”

Will shrugs. “Three and a half hours? Four, if we push it?”

“And on a full tank of gas?”

“Almost six.”

“And then we’re stuck.”

“And then we’re stuck, yeah. Unless you got Greyhound money hidden somewhere.”

Nico sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s what he wants, Will. He doesn’t care about the – about the stupid money. He wants me. He wants me to ask, rather, to pick up a phone and beg him to come get us ‘cause we have no other options. He wants me to admit I need his help.”

The first time he ran away, he’d had to avoid every cop car. He knew he was being looked for, he saw his own face plastered on news screens. It had only been a matter of time. The second attempt was – easier. Much easier. He’d hardly even had to hide his face. By the third time, he’d waited a week, waited almost a month, before he was cold and hungry and walked to the nearest social services building himself. The car ride home, the humiliation so potent he could taste the bitterness of it, had made the cold, rainy nights with nothing but the same ratty hoodie he’d worn when he left worth it. He swore he’d never subject himself to that again. 

And yet here he is. 

Out of options. 

“You know what? No.” In a swift, unstoppable movement, Will snatches the stack of papers, ripping them into four pieces faster than Nico can reach an arm out to stop him. “We’re not doing this.”

“Will – what –”

He throws himself off the bed, stomping over to his backpack. A folded pair of socks goes flying over his shoulder, a book hits the ground with a heavy thunk. His muttering grows louder, cursing interspersed between every word.

“What are you –”

“We are not dealing with this right now.” With a frustrated finally, Will yanks a bag of something out of his backpack, stomping back towards the bed. He throws a Ziploc bag onto the duvet, and it bounces once, twice, three times before splitting open and spilling quarters everywhere.

“What the hell is –”

“You already payed for the room, right?”

Nico snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

“And it’s Saturday.”

“I – it is, yeah.”

“Not a business day.”

“No.”

“Well.” Will nods. “Bank’s closed. Hotel can’t process anything, and they have no reason to suspect your card, which worked just fine last night, is gonna bounce. We’ve got a day of breathing room, at least, and I don’t want to think about it.”

He holds up a hand when Nico starts to argue, grim set to his mouth giving way to something a little sharper, a little more dangerous. 

“We might not be old enough to gamble, but when you’re in Atlanta, you do as the Atlantians do.” He meets Nico’s eye, grinning. “You still any good Street Fighters?”

———

next chapter

[star-going-supernova]

Here’s a SB prompt for ya!

Gregory realistically couldn’t have lasted the entire game without getting hurt. He got bruises from being slammed into things, his limbs aches for days cause he pushed himself too hard, and you can’t tell me any scrapes from Monty or Roxy didn’t scar.

Gregory would 100% use jokes and quips to deal with all the memories from that night whenever it gets brought up. Freddy who’s programming is insistent on lightening the mood and is joke based hates when he does it with a burning passion.

I’m still not done with the mini ficlets, lol. I went with immediate aftermath instead of further down the line.

Just a Scratch

The shift from night mode to day mode as, somewhere, a clock finally struck six was the best thing Gregory had seen all night. Lights began to turn on, STAFF bots disappeared by the dozen, and the stupid music cut out, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. 

Just visible from his hiding place, he watched Chica twitch a bit, then zombie walk away toward her room down the long hall of Rockstar Row. Mere minutes later, Monty and Roxy followed, none seemingly aware of their surroundings. They all vanished into their rooms without a peep. 

Still tense and on guard, Gregory unfolded himself from the tight corner behind the trash can he’d been tucked behind. There was no movement from the green rooms; from where he was crouched, he could see that Roxy’s was empty. Recharging in their back hallways, maybe? 

Guests would start arriving in a few hours, after all, and the show must go on.

Limping down the hall, he raised his watch and pressed the button to talk. “Freddy? You still with me?” 

“I am still here, superstar,” Freddy said, and he sounded so relieved. “I believe it is over. The barricade over the doors has risen. You are safe now.” 

Safe. It’d only been one night, but it felt like such a foreign concept. How could the pizzaplex ever feel safe again, no matter what time of day it was? 

Six hours. Not even counting that first hour before the barricade went down. Longest six hours of his life.

He was starting to feel a little woozy and unsteady on his feet by the time he and Freddy found each other. Freddy gasped at the sight of him, and the sound reflexively made him look around wildly, expecting an attack. But the quiet halls were empty but for the two of them. 

“Gregory,” Freddy said urgently. “You are far more injured than I thought! We must get you medical care immediately.” 

Gregory blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before looking down at himself and taking stock of his body for the first time in hours. He’d kinda had other, more important things on his mind, y’know?

The first thing he noticed were the bruises. He’d hit the deck more than once, either on purpose or from tripping, and his knees reflected that. They were dark and discolored. Lower, on his left leg, a trio of long gashes slashed diagonally down the front and curved around the back. They started to sting fiercely now that he’d noticed them. Monty had grabbed him there once, he remembered faintly. 

It was all a bit of a blur, to be honest. 

The sides of his upper arms and shoulders ached too, and he thought of how many times he’d taken a corner too fast, one animatronic or another hot on his tail, and the way he’d slammed into the walls before continuing on. On his back, the burn of another couple of cuts flared up; Chica had taken him by surprise at least twice. 

Shallow puncture wounds lined the top of his lower left arm from when he’d blocked Roxy’s teeth somewhere around 2 a.m. And both his right wrist and ankle throbbed with the pain of a sprain, probably from the one time the security guard had managed to grab him and yank him around and a fumbled jump down some stairs respectively. 

A full body ache buzzed through him, too—the result of running and lifting and pulling and pushing far too much, far beyond what his ten-year-old body was used to.

And his vision was admittedly a little blurry. A headache had started after the third time he’d had his head smacked into the floor by a pouncing Moon, so maybe he had a concussion on top of all the rest. 

The room was starting to spin, and Freddy was looking mightily concerned, which wasn’t an expression Gregory would have thought a robot capable of. Thoughts all tangled up around each other, he was suddenly desperate to reassure his protector that he was okay, honest, and they would look back on this night someday and laugh. 

He giggled now, tipped alarmingly to the side, and in a concussed attempt to alleviate Freddy’s worry and lighten the mood, Gregory enthusiastically declared, “Tis but a scratch!” 

Freddy made a noise of appalled disbelief, but if he said anything in response, Gregory didn’t hear it. He was too busy collapsing on the spot, thoroughly unconscious.

[odestasocean]

odesta week day one: modern au

summary: singer and songwriter annie cresta hopes to enjoy some peace and quiet at her favorite spot on the beach to watch the sunset, but instead she ends up finding a camera whose owner appears to be nowhere in sight. until she spots him and discovers that he is not what she had expected.

Annie’s favorite time of the day is exactly 4:52 in the morning.

And her favorite activity at this hour is taking a stroll on the shoreline.

The summer air is just crisp enough that she’s able to wear one of her favorite knitted sweaters, but not cold enough that she needs to bring a jacket. The beach is just crowded enough that she doesn’t feel lonely, but not busy enough that she has to dodge kids running from every direction. 

The sun doesn’t rise for another hour or so, enticing her to find her usual sunrise-watching spot. It’s a twenty-three-minute walk from her apartment complex, yet it seems like no one knows of its existence apart from her. 

Annie’s only lived in her current apartment for six months. She moved out of her parent’s house three days after she graduated high school, and she hasn’t regretted it for a single second. She loved the small town of Auburn that she grew up in, but ever since she was little, she craved a life away from the mountains and toward the sea. The mountains were an endless cascade of enmeshment, enveloping her in their depths. No matter how far up she looked, she could never see the top of the mountains surrounding her. She felt trapped and alone which was a vast difference as to how she felt at the beach: limitless and complete. 

In her youth, she and her family had made frequent visits to the ocean-side town that was several hours away and those were her favorite memories growing up. She learned to associate the ocean with nothing but peace and belonging and happiness and early carefree mornings and picnics on the sand and late-night ice cream cones and laughter ringing in her ears. No other place could ever amount to it. 

So, in her later teenage years, she worked endlessly to save up enough money to afford rent for an apartment split between three roommates and herself. And that’s how she ended up in Carpinteria. It was a seven-hour drive from her hometown, but her road trip playlist combined with the ocean view fading into the sights of mountains always made it feel much shorter. She saw her family twice a year– once every other season– and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She adored her parents and her two older sisters, of course, but spending anything longer than a week with them at a time could only be equated to the backstory of any starving artist: judged for your passion, ridiculed for not pursuing an “actual job”, and constantly being worried about your family thinking you’re even less capable than they already believed to be true. 

See, Annie is an aspiring singer and songwriter. 

She has been determined to make this dream her reality since she was seven years old and has put in the work to do just that. Music has always been her safe place, just like the ocean. She knows that there is nothing she’d rather do with her life than create songs, but it’s not the most attainable dream to have. So, she works at a local cafe during the day and performs at a neighboring bar during the night. The money isn’t all that great, but she has ears that are willing to listen so it’s enough for now. She’s only nineteen (as of two weeks ago) after all, so she has plenty of time for her big break. And no matter what her parents and sisters say, she does not need a college education to get somewhere in life. 

4:52 AM is her favorite time of the day because that just so happens to also be the hour in which she feels the most inspired. Her favorite sunrise-watching spot is far away from any possible distractions so it feels as if there is nothing in the world except for the lapping waves and the words and rhythms forming in her mind as she takes a seat on a rock overlooking the ocean below her. 

Annie is just about to open her notebook to a fresh page so she can begin crafting her newest song when she sees something out of the corner of her eye. She turns to her right and spots a camera rooted in the sand.

It’s a shade of gray and adorned with a metallic blue strap that rests loosely beside it. Annie tilts her head curiously before looking around to see if she can spot its owner, but there’s not a living creature in a twenty-foot radius apart from herself and a seagull flying above her. So she closes her notebook, puts it back in her bag, and picks up the camera. 

Its display screen is still illuminated so whoever it belongs to must have dropped it just minutes before she arrived. She intends to immediately rise from her seat and begin searching for this mysterious photographer when the photo on the screen catches her eye. It’s a gorgeous shot of the ocean with the sun peeking out from the horizon and a dolphin jumping from the depths of the waves. 

“Wow,” Annie murmurs to herself as she admires it. She looks up again and finds that she and the seagull aren’t actually alone. She must have managed to miss the potential photographer in her search because he’s walking down the array of rocks and toward the sand. His back is to her so she can’t make out much of his appearance apart from the fact that his hair is blonde and his shirt is almost the same shade as the camera strap. 

Annie quickly stands and gathers her belongings with the camera in hand so that she can reach the man before he gets much further. She maintains her balance as she travels down the rocky path before trying to catch his attention, “Hey, you!” she shouts once she figures he’s within earshot. The man turns around, not seeing her at first, so an expression of confusion takes over his face. Once he meets her eyes, Annie holds up the camera and adds, “Is this yours?!” 

His confusion turns to recognition almost immediately as he jogs in her direction. As he fills in the distance between them, Annie’s able to get a better look at him. It turns out that his hair is more golden than it is blonde and his eyes are a shade of green unlike anything she’s ever seen before. He’s taller than she initially thought and his shirt is barely buttoned. She’s fairly certain that he’s the most beautiful man she’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Yeah, it is. Thank you so much,” he says with a relieved sigh. “I can’t believe I forgot it.”

Annie clears her throat and hands him the camera. “No problem.” 

He shoots her a smile in return and places the strap over his neck. “I guess I lucked out that someone else was in this area. I’ve never seen anyone visit this spot before.”

Annie returns his grin and says, “That’s funny because I thought I had this spot all to myself at this hour.”

“Ah, that would make sense then. I’m here an hour and a half earlier than I usually am,” he replies.

“Well, there you go,” Annie says with a slight nod. “I’m probably starting my shift at the cafe by the time you step foot on these rocks.”

Another flicker of recognition spreads across his face. “Is that cafe called Carpinteria’s Coastal Cafe by any chance?”

All of the self-defense TikToks that Annie’s seen on her for you page start appearing in her mind, reminding her that she shouldn’t tell a random man she’s never met before her place of work, especially when they are the only two people currently on this beach. But something in his kind eyes and easygoing smile makes her feel like he’s not a psychopath who’s going to kidnap her at any given second.

Still, she’s not going to just idly let herself end up on a Netflix true crime documentary. “And why would I tell you that, random-man-who-I’ve-never-seen-before?” she answers while crossing her arms over her chest. 

The recognition on his face immediately flares into embarrassment, a shade of red appearing on his cheeks. “Right. Sorry. I’m now realizing how that sounded so you definitely do not have to answer that. It’s just that my best friend, Johanna Mason is an assistant manager over there so I was curious if you knew her.” He holds up his camera before adding, “Thank you for finding this. I’ll leave you alone now.”

Oh, she certainly does know Johanna Mason. She should just let him leave because she knows for a fact that his best friend does not like her one bit and has surely said some rather crude remarks about her skill level as a cashier. 

But as he’s turning away, she can’t help herself. She doesn’t know what it is about him that’s making her not want their conversation to end. So, Annie stops him by saying, “Don’t you want to know the name of your camera’s rescuer?”

He turns back around and smiles softly in her direction. “I’d be honored.”

“Annie,” she says while holding out her hand for him to shake.

“Finnick,” he answers. “So you’re the cashier who wrecked the ice machine a few months ago?”

Annie bows her head in embarrassment. “She hates me, doesn’t she?”

Finnick laughs. “Jo hates most people, don’t take it personally. I’ve known her for ten years and have just barely managed to remain on her good side.”

“Okay, well, in my defense, that incident happened my very first week and I have learned my lesson since then,” Annie adds.

“No more ice machine casualties?”

“My record is clean,” she answers. “Apart from the one.”

Finnick grins and she can’t help but grin right back. 

“The picture you took is stunning by the way. I love the composition,” she says while pointing to his camera. 

“Oh, thank you,” he replies. 

“Are you a professional photographer?” 

“I wish,” he scoffs. “It’s just something I enjoy doing in my free time. Which lately, only seems to be this early in the morning, unfortunately.” Annie chuckles as he continues, “I’m a college student.”

“Oh, cool,” she says with a nod. “What’s your major?”

“Marine biology.”

“Nice.”

“What about you?”

“No college for me,” Annie replies. “I’m more of the starving artist type.”

“Let me guess,” Finnick answers. “A poet?” Annie shakes her head. “A painter?” Another shake. “An actress?” Another. “A singer?”

“And songwriter,” she adds.

“Very cool,” he says with an easy smile. “Would I have heard any of your stuff?”

“No, I just sing at local venues around town whenever there’s an opening. Just waiting for my chance to make it big, I guess,” she answers.  

“Well, I’m certain you’re extremely talented, Annie,” he compliments. “I bet your chance is right around the corner.”

Annie smiles again as Finnick’s phone starts to ring.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and scoffs. “Speak of the devil. Literally.” When he holds it up, a picture of Johanna flipping the camera off illuminates the screen. “Hey, Jo,” he says once he answers it. 

Annie puts her hands in her back pockets and nudges a loose rock with her shoe. She is not eavesdropping. She’s only picking up pieces of Johanna’s garbled phrases and Finnick’s replies and attempting to piece them together.

“Yeah, I’m free,” he says. There’s a pause and then either hat or cat is said. “You want me to watch Fluffy for an entire weekend?” Cat, she decides. Another pause and then a strained laugh. “I think you need to remember that that devil spawn ripped apart my favorite sweater the last time I watched him. Also, I think I need to remind you that one, your roommate hates me as much as that cat does and two, my landlord doesn’t allow pets.” Several moments pass and then Finnick sighs. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Fluffy?” Annie questions as Finnick’s phone is returned to his pocket. 

“Yep. But don’t assume he’s a cat who’s actually fluffy and also adorable. This one is hairless and cruel,” he answers. 

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Jo has a weird sense of humor. And an odd soft spot for cats. Especially old ones who were left on the side of the road five years ago.”

“Hm. I never would’ve gotten that impression from her,” Annie replies with a tilt of her head. 

“Well, unfortunately I owe her one and despite my nonexistent bond with Fluffy and having a pet in my apartment being against the rules, I will be watching him this weekend apparently,” he explains. 

“Bummer. Gotta admit though, I’m partial to cats so I think I’m on Fluffy’s side for this one,” she answers.

Finnick laughs. “Damn, I was hoping my ridiculously amazing first impression would’ve swayed you.”

“Nope, I gotta go with this rumored ‘hairless and cruel’ feline, sorry,” Annie says with a chuckle. 

This time, Finnick is the one smiling when a phone interrupts them. 

A text message chimes and Annie checks her home screen. “Well speak of the devil, yet again. Johanna wants me to come in early.”

“You’re kidding,” he says through a scoff.

“Guess she’s decided to unknowingly take out her devilish shenanigans on us both today,” Annie replies as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. 

“Yeah, well, she actually wanted me to meet her at the cafe to pick up Fluffy because her roommate supposedly– and I quote– ‘cannot be left alone for one goddamn second with him or else something horribly catastrophic is bound to happen’,” Finnick explains.

“I’m very intrigued to see if he’s as awful as you and her roommate are making him out to be,” Annie remarks. 

“Oh, he is. I promise you.”

Annie grins and gestures outwards. “Shall we then?”

Finnick appears to be slightly taken aback for only a moment before a flirty expression washes over his face as he winks and says, “So my ridiculously amazing first impression did work after all?”

Annie rolls her eyes and starts making her way toward the sidewalk as he follows. She attempts to fight back a smile the entire walk toward the cafe.

[tacoma-narrows]

Dorney Park! - 5/19/21

Decided to not let this trip report have a two week long gap like my Great America post did, so I'll write it out now!

Made my first trip of the year to Dorney Park this past weekend! I went by myself for about 5 hours or so and got on everything I had wanted to ride. Lines were very minimal, with the longest (not accounting for a short maintenance delay) being maybe 20 mins. Got a bunch of re-rides on the park's major coasters and I'm sure I'll be able to get more later in the summer, since Dorney is my home park lol. But here are some pics I got, and then like for my Great America post, thoughts about my individual rides will be below them!

Here's my breakdown of what I rode!

Iron Menace - Coaster Credit #169! (Rode twice) I am so glad Dorney finally got a brand new coaster after so long! Their last new coaster was Stinger in 2012 (which was a relocation, and closed in 2018), and their last custom built coaster was Hydra way back in 2005 (Possessed, opened in 2008, was also a relocation). I really liked Iron Menace for what it was though! It looks absolutely FANTASTIC for it's plot of land, and it's directly in front of you as you drive into the park. Makes for a fantastic first impression! The ride itself was pretty much what I expected (in a good way), it's definitely the weakest of the three dive coasters I've ridden, since it doesn't have the scale of Valravn and Sheikra, but I thought it had some fun elements and some surprisingly strong positive forces. The main downside is that it's a short ride, at only maybe 40 seconds or so after the drop. But all things considered, I think it's a great fit for Dorney and I LOVE it's theme! The Steelyard area around it looks pretty good as well! Currently, I have Iron Menace at 56th in my rankings between Flight Deck at California's Great America, and Medusa at Six Flags Great Adventure, but that could be subject to change once I decide if I like this or Hydra more lol.

Steel Force - (Rode twice) I'd heard during the park's Winter Chill Out event back in March that they we're speeding up the chain lift on Steel Force this year since (I believe) they had gotten a new lift motor or something to that effect, so I was excited to see how it rode this year. I didn't really notice a significant difference in the speed or airtime, but that wasn't a huge deal to me since I really enjoy Steel Force. A lot of people give it and the other Morgan hypers flack for not having any airtime, and I just don't see that. I always get tons of air over this hills, especially on the return trip. Then the double helix turnaround acts as a good change of pace with some good positives. So Steel Force still retains it's place as my favorite at the park.

Thunderhawk - (Rode once) Thunderhawk is a ride that's had my opinions on it change a lot over the years. When I first rode it the first time I went to Dorney in 2012, I did not like it. I remember it being really rough and uncomfortable. Over the last few years though, the park has been doing a really good job taking care of it and it's running really well now. My ride this time had surprisingly strong airtime, which I was not expecting. The main problem I had this time, and why I only rode it once, was because I got stapled BAD and the surprisingly strong airtime made for a rather uncomfortable experience lol. But for a ride that's celebrating it's 100th birthday this year, it's still really solid I'd say.

Hydra the Revenge - (Rode twice) Hydra is such a weird little ride but I love it. Lots of funky inversions, especially for a floorless coaster, and you gotta love the hangtime on the jojo roll out of the station. It's running a little shaky this year but not too bad as long as you keep your head forward, as is the case with a lot of B&M loopers. That's nothing new for Hydra as well, since in my experience it's always had a bit of a rattle. I love how dynamic its forces are though between hangtime, airtime, positives and a little bit of whip coming down the first drop in the back row. At the moment, I'm not sure if I'd take it over Iron Menace as my third fav in the park, so that's something I'll have to think about next time I'm back there lol

Talon - (Rode once) I really enjoy Talon as well, which finds itself as my second fav in the park after Steel Force. Very snappy and forceful inversions and it still runs pretty smooth. I especially love the super intense high banked turn right up against the ground towards the end of the ride. The one thing that's a little disappointing is that the park took out the signs underneath you as you go up the lift hill. They were spaced out and said thing like "Going up" "No turning back!" "Getting closer..." as you went up the lift hill, with the last one at the crest saying "Goodbye!" as you go over the drop. They didn't affect the actual ride at all, but I thought they were a funny little thing the park decided to put in. They may have removed them prior to this year, since I didn't go to Dorney a lot between 2020 and now, but this is the first time I noticed it at least. Anways, gotta love Talon, real solid invert all around. I would've rode it more than once, but it got a bit of a longer line towards the end of my visit that I didn't feel like waiting in lol

Possessed - (Rode once) I've never been a huge fan of Intamin's Impulse coasters, and I've always thought Possessed was just kind of okay. It's got a fun launch, and since I was sitting towards the back row, the feeling of height looking straight down on the vertical back spike was pretty cool, but other than that, the ride doesn't do a whole lot for me. I wished the holding break on the vertical spike still worked like it used to, that would make the ride a bit more unique at least, but it's still fine enough without it.

Other than the coasters, I rode two other rides, both of them being drop towers lol. One was Dominator, the park's 200 foot S&S drop tower. I rode the shot side that blasts you up to free fall down and I thought it was way more tame than I remembered, which was unfortunate. Then the other drop tower I rode was Demon Drop, which is one of the very few rides out there that still kinda wigs me out lmao. Something about the moving forward from the lift shaft to the drop track and the fact that the ride looks, sounds, and feels like it's made of sheet metal still kinda gets to me lol. I love it though, and for as rare of a ride that it is, being the last of it's kind in the country, if it's running, you gotta give it a ride.

So overall, I had a fun time at Dorney! It's not the biggest or best park in the world by any means, but it serves its purpose as a regional theme park well and offers things that are fairly unique from other area parks like Hersheypark, Knoebels and Great Adventure. Once the waterpark opens for the season (they were having their season passholder preview day when I was there), then it becomes more of a full day park, since their waterpark is really solid. So I'm sure I'll get back later this summer and you'll get another post full of my ramblings lmao.

[merge-conflict]

interview with a thief

tagged by @ghostoffuturespast thank you! I also decided to play with the framing of this one because it seemed like it'd be fun. please note that 'Hellman' within the text of this piece is actually Johnny in disguise, which hopefully becomes obvious after a bit of the interview. The number of line breaks means it's long under the cut, fair warning.

<>

Kerry Eurodyne has refused all media interviews since he moved into the penthouse suite at Maximus Turrim, but we were lucky enough to catch two of his associates: Dr. Anders Hellman and Valentina Myśliwiec, both former employees of Arasaka, at the Regis bar. They agreed to an interview on the condition that they would not answer any questions about their current legal entanglement, Rogue Amendiares, or Eurodyne himself. They have also chosen the questions for this interview. Due to technical issues, no video or photos are available.

Dr. Hellman has been reclusive since his widely publicized break from Arasaka, and looks very little like the tall, polished doctor who once presented at prestigious conferences around the globe. Myśliwiec is a dark horse, but with the kind of studied intensity one would expect from Arasaka SpecOps. They seem to be old friends, spending the first few minutes of our time arguing about the contents of the questionnaire.

Thanks for agreeing to the interview, I really appreciate it.

Hellman: Sure, although just to be clear I’m only a bystander.

Myśliwiec: You’re never only a bystander. Magnanimous of you to share the spotlight with me, though.

Well, you’re something of an unknown to our audience, so it’s great to get a chance to know more about you.

Myśliwiec: Oh, well that is exciting.

Let’s start with the basics. Name? Nickname?

Myśliwiec: Valentina Myśliwiec. You need me to spell that? No? People usually call me V.

How should I address you?

Myśliwiec: Thief. Any pronouns is fine.

Thief?

Myśliwiec: Is that a problem?

No, just unexpected, given your background. Is that from your days as a mercenary?

Hellman: Mercenary? (laughs) Two-bit gonk at best.

Myśliwiec: Takes one to know one. And to answer the question: yes. It was a very transitory period of my life.

Hellman: (scoffing) Really?

You could change it to fugitive now, I suppose.

Myśliwiec: (laughing) Maybe I should.

So, what’s your star sign?

Myśliwiec: I knew you were going to ask me this but I’ve just forgotten.

Hellman: Libra.

Myśliwiec: How do you know that?

Hellman: I looked it up, right here. Not sure you’re very diplomatic.

Myśliwiec: If I was undiplomatic you’d know.

How tall are you?

Myśliwiec: Six two.

Where are you from?

Myśliwiec: Born and raised in NC. This is actually the furthest I’ve been from home.

Hellman: Damn, V. Now that’s a sad story.

Favorite fruit? Do they have fruit in Night City?

Myśliwiec: …Kerry Eurodyne?

Is that a question?

Hellman: Alright, wise guy, Kerry isn’t an option on the list.

Myśliwiec: Tough crowd.

Hellman: Mango isn’t on here either. There, strawberries. What’s with this list, anyway? Where are the bananas?

Myśliwiec: (laughing) What?

Bananas?

Hellman: What?

Myśliwiec: Bananas have been extinct for thirty years.

Hellman: I knew that.

OK. Moving on. What’s your favorite season?

Myśliwiec: Spring.

Hellman: And how long have those been extinct?

Fifty, at least.

Myśliwiec: At least.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?

Myśliwiec, Hellman: Coffee.

How many hours of sleep do you get on average?

Myśliwiec: Ten. Twice as much as I used to.

Even with Arasaka gunning for you?

Hellman: (waving his finger) That one’s not on the list.

Sorry. Can’t blame me for trying. Are you a dog or a cat person?

Hellman: She loves dogs.

Myśliwiec: Cat person. (peering over Hellman’s shoulder) You’d better have selected cat.

What’s your dream trip?

Myśliwiec: The moon. I’d love to see the Earth from up there.

Hellman: Ah, you are a romantic.

Myśliwiec: Don’t tell anyone. Can we strike that from the record?

Sorry, no.

Hellman: I’m going to select ‘outer space’. There’s no option for moon.

Who’s your favorite fictional character?

Myśliwiec: Hackerman.

Hellman: Who the hell is Hackerman?

Myśliwiec: The most powerful hacker of all time?

Hellman: Alright, better question: who the hell are all these people?

Myśliwiec: Let me see. Oh, definitely Maria the Destroyer.

Hellman: Hard to argue with a name like that.

Number of blankets that you sleep with?

Myśliwiec: Just one.

Hellman: Depends on how you define blanket. (Myśliwiec elbows him in the ribs.) Alright, alright, “one”.

What’s a fun fact?

Myśliwiec: Did you know there’s a kind of butterfly that preys on ants? The caterpillars pretend to be ant larvae and get taken back to the nest, where they use additional mimicry to act like an ant queen. They eat all the ant larvae, get big and fat, and then pupate right there in the nest.

Hellman: You and your disgusting bug facts. I’m not typing all that.

Myśliwiec: Well, what’s my result?

Hellman: It says Purple Force.

Myśliwiec: Absolutely not. Purple Force? I’m obviously Red Menace. You picked dog, didn’t you?

Hellman: What, you think I’d lie to you?

Myśliwiec: Uhuh. I guess that’s the end of our time.

Hellman: Your first interview. Not so bad, huh?

Not bad at all. Thank you for your time.

Tagging @corpocyborg, @corphoe, @gamerkitten, @dani-the-goblin The original questions for the interview are:

Name Nickname Gender Star Sign Height Nationality/Ethnicity Favorite Fruit? Favorite Season? Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Average hours of sleep? Dog or Cat person? Dream Trip? Favorite Fictional Character? Number of Blankets you sleep with? Fun fact?

[stevishabitat]

Long rant/emotional vomit incoming…. 

Where to start? 

In August, our neighbors moved out and left their outdoor cat, Franklin behind. We'd gotten him neutered last year during the big TNR project, so he'd retired from both the kitten factory and the tom cat fight club. So he was left kind of hanging around at loose ends.

Franklin in his previous outdoor life

He'd come to the porch for dinner with the ferals, but we could tell he wasn't super healthy, and when we had a heatwave in the 100°F range, and saw him looking like melted cat on the hot pavement, we just couldn't stand it anymore. Clearly they weren't coming back for him, and no one else was taking care of him. So we brought him inside.

This brings our indoor crowd to six. Four adults and two kittens (all courtesy of the same neighbors who had a constant stream of kittens that they would raise and then put outdoors to fend for themselves - we are not regretting their departure from the neighborhood).

The Crew at Feeding Time

So Franklin actually adjusted really quickly to full-time indoor life. But he came with a bunch of hitchhikers. Ear mites, fleas, and tapeworm for certain. I tried OTC treatments at home, but wasn't making progress, and Franklin clearly also suffered from flea allergies and secondary ear infections and skin infections from the mites.

So off to the vet we went.

He had two different bacterial infections in his ears (the tech that read the ear swab slides said "beyond reality"), so he got a full-spectrum antibiotic shot, twice-daily ear mite treatment, and I ended up with a Revolution Plus prescription and tapeworm meds for all six cats, to break the parasite cycle.

Franklin at vet visit #1

I'm hoping we're on the upward swing of things, although Franklin still has raw patches from the flea allergies that he licks compulsively. I've used an OTC cortisone spray for him, but he may need a more systemic approach. Meaning either a shot or prescription. Another trip to the vet is in the works.

Frankie being just the Sweetest

Little man, Henry, still needs to be neutered and he's going on six months old, so I can't put it off much longer. Three of the others need annual vaccinations. The plan was to do one vet visit per month, if I can swing that financially, but that's looking more difficult than I hoped. 

The Babies: Henry and Patches

We are also fighting a losing battle to keep our water heater running. It was damaged by the flood last July, but we've kept it limping along for a whole year. We've now been without hot water since the beginning of September.

My grandma (who owns the house, but is currently living with another relative) is still hesitant to invest in a new water heater. It will take all of us (me, my parents, and grandma) to jointly pay for it. So without her go-ahead, we're kind of in limbo. There are a couple more parts we can try replacing before we're certain it's unfixable. But my dad doesn't want to pay a plumber, he wants to do those himself.  

I bought a tankless point-of-use water heater so we can at least put together a temporary shower and sink in the basement.

But getting that installed and set up has been more difficult and costly than expected (needing extra adapters and fixtures to connect to old plumbing) and although my dad is doing the work when he can, he's also working part-time and can barely walk most days. He can really only do at-home projects once a week at most, and some weeks he just doesn't have the time or physical capacity. 

My pharmacy, insurance, and neurologist can't seem to connect the dots to get my Aimovig refilled, so I'm now more than a month without a migraine preventative and I'm running out of rescue meds.

I had been paying someone to help around the house for an hour twice a month, but I really can't afford it. But without the help, and without migraine meds, and with cats that are still having digestive issues from the worms, and fleas still hatching out and infesting the house... It's a hot mess.

Can you believe this service exists???

Anyway, we're floundering.

Physically, financially, mentally, emotionally... It's draining.

Anyway, I basically ended up maxing out my credit card on all of this chaos. And this is the time of year that work slows down and overtime dries up.

I wasted so much money on things that didn't fix the fleas, or Franklin's illnesses, or the water heater, or my migraines... or... or....

So much money on meal replacement shakes because I'm too nauseated to eat, and delivery for kiddo because I don't have the energy to cook.

Bought a bunch of rinse-free body cleansers and shampoos so we can try to maintain self-care and hygiene without hot water. Got that tankless water heater and a shower tent and floor mat hoping to make kiddo more comfortable with showering somewhere other than the bathroom (they're still very much against the idea). 

The payment for kiddo's therapy bounced this week, and my biweekly paycheck can't cover that and the credit card payment. So it will probably bounce next week too. I think after two non-payments we have to give up our time slot. Therapy is so important for kiddo's mental health. I have to find a way to keep up with that if nothing else. 

Kiddo is absolutely at max capacity for demands and just can't help at all, can't even do basic self-care, clean up after themselves, or help with the cats like they used to. The state of the house is stressing them out, and they want more connection with me and Grandmummy, that we don't have the time or spoons to give.

Kiddo, Jack and Henry

My mom has also been without her meds for several weeks, and honestly, she's been in an autoimmune flare for most of this year. I think all the physical work from the flood, plus the mold, and a case of covid in the last year really messed her up. 

My dad going back to work (which was financially necessary) means he's physically unable to do things at home, and time wise he's not able to pick my sister-in-law up from work, or take grandma to doctors appointments - so all of that is on my mom now. So she's less able to spend time with kiddo - leaving me as sole caregiver most of the time, including when I'm working from home.

My car is still dead from the flood, and the vehicle I share with my parents has multiple issues. So I get groceries and necessary supplies delivered and only do errands on the day I take kiddo to therapy. That's about as much as I can physically do anyway.

That one time we thought the car was driveable (we were very wrong)

I was supposed to meet my (long-distance) girlfriend for renaissance festival this weekend, but I don't have gas money and her car is in the shop getting necessary brake repairs. It's our twice a year getaway without kids, and I think we're going to miss it.

RenFaire in the Spring

I'm really just venting because I don't have anyone to talk to who isn't also in the thick of it with me. 

I think a lot of my mutuals will understand all of this. So if you're in a mess like this, know that it's not just you. You aren't a failure. 

We're all doing the best we can, and sometimes no matter what you do, the best still looks like a disaster. 

[planar-river-road]

As a European, at least in my personal experience, we’re not so much confused by the idea that you can travel for a full day and still be in the same country; we’re confused by the idea that you can travel for a full day and see that as a normal occurence rather than a special event to splurge on maybe once or twice a year.

The EU is pretty close in size to the USA (a bit less now without the UK, but also more spread out), free to travel inside of, and full of people who will speak if not our specific language then at least English. So we do have rather similar options to Americans or Chinese for travel. We’re not surprised that people travel sixteen hours without leaving their country, we’re surprised that people travel sixteen hours and it’s seen as reasonable simply because they didn’t cross any hard borders on the way.

And of course there’s also gonna be Europeans who really like to travel (I really don’t, so I absolutely am biased on this) and who will regularly take hours-long trips across different countries. Just like there are probably Americans who really don’t want to drive for six hours to end up in another country state that is nominally part of the same governmental structure but has its own laws and its own culture and maybe doesn’t particular like people from their home state in particular.

It’s the United States, just like it is the European Union. In our minds you’re not one big country, you’re fifty countries who just happened to do the whole Union thing a bit earlier than us. For reasons.

You shouldn’t date or become serious friends/partners with someone if you can’t stomach the thought of being stuck in a car or train with them for 16 hours.

[theghostpinesmusic]

Desolation Wilderness (4/4)

When I woke up in the morning, the clouds were very nearly knocking on my tent door, wanting to be let in.

I suppose I was camped at 8200 feet, but I was still surprised at how low the cloud level was. It seemed miraculous that it hadn't snowed during the night.

The skyline was buried, the lake, brilliant blue from Mosquito Pass barely twelve hours earlier, was leaden and rippled in the again-howling wind. It was freaking freezing.

I cooked and ate breakfast and packed up camp wearing basically all of the clothes I'd brought with me, then shrugged out of most of them at the last minute and stuffed them haphazardly into my pack before striking out to the south double-time to try to regain some of the body heat I'd lost in the sixty-or-so seconds it had taken me to layer down.

Instead of taking the Desolation Trail directly south, I took the PCT southeast, taking a brief detour to visit new-to-me Lakes Margery and Lucille. They were...fine. It was worth the time and extra effort just to see something new. I wouldn't necessarily recommend planning to camp at either of them, though.

Shortly after regaining the PCT just southeast of Margery, I came upon the intersection with the Ralston Peak Trail. After my successful (and wonderful) diversion earlier in the trip to climb Mount Tallac, and then my decision to bypass the Dick's Peak scramble, I'd been imagining taking this trail to the top of Ralston on my way back to the car: it was another thousand feet of climbing, sure, but it was "on the way," and I was excited to gain another high vantage above the wilderness I'd spent the last few days traversing.

My only hesitation had been because of time: with a six-hour drive back home still ahead of me on this fourth day, would I really want to take such a long(ish) detour, even for the sake of the view?

(Un)fortunately, the weather that morning made the decision for me: the last eight hundred or so feet of Ralston Peak were very clearly buried in the low cloud banks. Not only would there not be a view at the top, it would likely be rough going even following a trail upward through such thick clouds.

I bypassed the mountain trail, and continued southeast through Haypress Meadows, which I'd passed through four days earlier on my way into the wilderness. The views from here southward were actually clear-ish and beautiful and, indeed, the weather would get better the closer I got to the car.

This didn't make me reconsider a climb of Ralston, as the mountain would stay in clouds for most of the rest of my hike, but it did lead me to decide to take a brief detour to Ralston Lake, at the very least, now that it seemed unlikely that a deluge of rain (or snow) was imminent.

Ralston and Cagwin Lakes are a surprisingly weird and hard-to-navigate scramble away from the on-trail Tamarack Lake. If you look at them on a topo map, the approach seems pretty straightforward: however, I've done it twice now and gotten fairly lost both times headed in and headed back out.

It was worth it, though, to once again see the huge cirque that Ralston Lake sits in, with the peak (briefly freed from the clouds!) hanging above it. There are a few hard-to-find but fantastic campsites here, too. So...someday.

It felt like a bit more a haul than it should have been to climb back up out of the lakes basin (partially on trail, partially up random slabs of granite), but after that all that stood between me and the end of the trail was the three-mile stretch of well-defined trail past the Echo Lakes.

Just as I neared the first of the human-made structures below the wilderness boundary (and the water taxi's westernmost dock), I looked back to see the sun shining on top of Ralston as the early morning clouds began to break up in the (relative) heat of the early afternoon. So it goes.

I hiked the last few miles in a bit of a haze, though one not at all like the apocalyptic fugue I'd suffered through along the same stretch of trail two years earlier. It was just the usual restlessness of the solo hiker who, after days alone in the wilderness, is impatient to be a bit closer to good food and a warm bed than he currently is. Considering the high emotional stakes of my return to Desolation Wilderness, it was a minor inconvenience.

The wind never really stopped. By the time I got back to the dam at the east end of the Echo Lakes, wind-driven whitecaps were curling over the lake surface, and the water was slapping against the concrete dam wall with a force that occasionally drove a splash all the way up onto the walkway that I had to cross back to the car. In the distance, a man in a small motor-driven fishing boat was borne backward despite the motor running at what sounded like full throttle.

Despite the recent emergence of the sun, and the relatively clear sky, the storm atmosphere remained. The next morning, back at home, I'd read that a few inches of snow had fallen that night right where I'd camped the night before.

Winter had come early to the Sierra, at least temporarily.

For my part, it was a short-but-nonetheless-too-long drive from the Echo Lake trailhead to one of the few bright spots from Lindsey and I's previous trip: Sprouts Cafe and its gigantic plate of vegetarian nachos.

The cafe was packed full of tourists when I got there in midafternoon, but I had dreamed of those nachos for most of four days at that point, and I wasn't going to be put off by waiting in line. So I put in an order, took a single-seat, small table outside, and relived my hike through the pictures on my phone for forty-five minutes while I waited for my order to come out. The wait for those nachos ensured that I'd be driving home late into the night (and in the dark no less), and once they finally came out they were rendered lukewarm almost immediately by the still-gusting wind, the cheese congealing and the salsa cold. But it was absolutely worth it.

In the end, I suppose, the exorcism worked. In a sense I got to "redo" the "ruined" 2022 hike around Desolation Wilderness. It was beautiful, and amazing, and I really enjoyed it, even more than I'd imagined I would. The only thing that would have made it better would have been if Lindsey and I could have done it together. At the same time (and as Jon Osterman reminds us) "nothing ever really ends": it's not as if the experience and the memories of the "good" hike have significantly altered or somehow erased the experience and memories of the "bad" hike, as much as, in some ways, I would have liked it to. Because of course that's not how things work. Both hikes are now part of my broad experience of the wilderness and, just how every other trip has its ups and downs, its triumphs and its disasters, I have to (and will always have to) reckon with the fact that, say, Dick's Pass is both an incredible, crystal-clear vantage floating above the granite-carpeted expanse of the Desolation Wilderness and also a smoke-choked, Mordor-esque hell. The best I can really say about this second trip is that it let me experience both, finally, rather than just the latter.

I'm certainly glad I went back, and seeing Desolation as it "should" be re-motivated me to look into tackling the Tahoe Rim Trail this coming summer. But on some level the idea of return-as-exorcism was always a little silly, or at least a little anthropocentric. I don't really have a good counterargument or lesson-learned to defend myself on that count: I am a person, and will likely continue to do dumb, anthropocentric things for as long as I'm around. Maybe the best I can do is take comfort in the fact that the wilderness is there to witness my bumbling attempts at profundity and will be there still long after I'm gone, similarly traumatized by the smoke and fire, but able to withstand and recover from its ravages with a tenacity that I can only imagine.

[harrison-abbott]

that f*cking man

My daughter Cassie got in touch with me to tell me she was getting married. To this man called Derek Collins. I had met Derek only twice in my life and I politely admit that I never liked him, at all. I didn’t say this to Cassie, but that’s how I felt. He came over here to my flat, with her, once, a long while ago. He stank of aftershave and after I told him what soccer team I liked he kept taking digs at them, the team, because he supported the arch rivals. It was funny at first but he kept doing it for hours. Then, between the meal that I had made for them, he would excuse himself to the toilet down the hall. Except, he kept doing it as if he had a bladder infection. And, I followed him down the corridor to get something from the living room … and when I was coming back, I heard these swishy snorting noises from inside the bathroom. Was he actually doing that? He was doing cocaine in my toilet, after coming over to ‘meet the parent’ for the first time with my daughter. I didn’t mention anything to Cassie. She was real pretty, when I came back into the kitchen, sipping at her orange juice. I thought that maybe I had only been imagining things about what Derek was doing but then when he came back into the kitchen as well and resumed speaking I noticed white powder up one of his nostrils. Jesus. … Oh, and the next time I saw him was at the train station. I was heading to work. And I noticed this tall fellow in a blue suit wearing these cream sneakers standing looking at his phone outside a WH Smith. That was Derek – back, then, my daughter’s boyfriend. So I had met him for the first time back in the summer six months earlier and now it was the winter; Derek had mentioned that he took trips to this city for work. I went up to say Hi to him. “Hey there, Derek?” I said. And arrived in front of him and offered a handshake. He looked up at me from his screen, irritated and narrow-eyed. “How are you doing?” I said, and I kept my hand hanging there … He blinked. And his eyes didn’t expand, until I said, “It’s me. Andrew. Cassie’s father.” And just then, his face bloomed up and he went, “Oh, of course! Andy! How are you doing mate! Sorry, I’m sleepy, I didn’t recognise you!” And he grabbed my hand and crashed it with his fingers. He apologised four more times within the next couple of minutes, for not remembering who I was: it was because he hadn’t much sleep and that he was hungover and that I hadn’t had a beard last time he saw me. But that he really enjoyed the dinner I served at the flat that time. “The macaroni cheese! What a belter that was. … Anyway, Andy: I have to go now and catch my train! Was super nice to see you and we should meet up again soon, right?” … There was another of those tremendous handshakes. And when he walked away from me I thought, ‘I did have a beard last time. Because I never shave.’ …

So that last episode happened four years back. And Cassie called me yesterday to inform me that they were engaged. I hadn’t seen Cassie since she came to the flat that time for the Mac Cheese: and so that was five years ago. It did make me wonder why she was even calling. Until she started talking about money. She was all flowery with her chat, until she began speaking about how much the wedding was going to cost. And so I nabbed the intentions behind her communication. There are a whole load of stories about why Cassie wasn’t so close to me. But, she was doing this manipulative behaviour in adulthood: scouting for money because she needed the finance. I couldn’t really be bothered with that. “Cassie,” I said to her. She was telling me a story about a recent trip she’d made to the zoo with Derek. And how he had been joking about the animals. “Do you remember when Derek first came over to the flat to meet me? For the first ever time?” She went quieter when she answered, “Yes?” And so I asked her, “Do you know what he was doing every time he went to the toilet?” She remained silent on the other end and I could tell that she knew what I was talking about. “Cassie. I can give you a bit of money, because I do have a spare amount, and I’m not liable to live much longer. So may as well pass some on to my only kid. But I’m also not interested in coming to a wedding to watch you marry that fucking man. Plus, I’m tired right now and I need to rest before getting up for work in the morning. See you later for just now.” He hung up the phone and the short smack of that act was quite satisfying.

[soft-jihoonie]

I Wanna Stay By You Forever - Chapter Seven

Kyungsoo x Jongdae + Baekhyun x Chanyeol - 5.7K Words - Fluff and Angst

Part 2 of the Baby Don’t Go series - Part 1 is here

This is also posted on AO3

A/N: Uhh it's been like 5 years but I'm finally here with a new update

One Two Three Four Five Six Eight

Monday comes quicker than Kyungsoo expected and he finds himself sitting in the back of Jongdae’s brother's car, feeling awkward as they chat with each other. Sure, Jongdae’s holding his hand, keeping up the boyfriend act already, but neither of them have said anything to Kyungsoo for half an hour. He understands, they haven’t seen each other in ages and they have lots to chat about, but he just feels very out of place when the two of them are clearly so close. Jongdae’s checked on him once or twice, quiet ‘you okay’s’ that make Kyungsoo’s heart flutter, but it doesn’t change the awkwardness he feels.

The drive to Jongdae’s parent's house takes about an hour and by the time they arrive, Kyungsoo’s certain he hasn’t felt this nervous since that presentation he had to do in front of his whole year in high school. He’s grateful when they get out of the car and Jongdae instantly moves over to him, intertwining their hands tightly.

Jongdae begins leading Kyungsoo towards the house, pausing when his brother jokingly calls out, “I’ll bring the bags then, shall I?”

Grinning back at his brother, Jongdae responds, “I thought that was a given?”, before continuing to lead Kyungsoo to the front door.

Jongdae knocks the door and the wait has Kyungsoo holding his breath, a hundred possibilities about what’s on the other side running through his head. He doesn’t have much time to think over them though, the door swinging open to reveal a woman that’s undoubtedly Jongdae’s mother. She smiles at them warmly, a smile Kyungsoo’s familiar with after being on the receiving end of Jongdae’s so many times.

Her eyes meet Kyungsoo’s for a moment and he can see the underlying tiredness in them that she’s trying to cover up, clearly not wanting Jongdae to worry. Then, she’s turning back to Jongdae, opening her arms to pull him into a hug that makes Kyungsoo miss his own mother.

Kyungsoo hears Jongdae murmur, “Hi mum”, tightening his arms around her body, which seems so small in his arms. Kyungsoo has to look away for a moment, hit by a wave of emotion he wasn’t expecting.

The two of them pull apart, the attention turning back to Kyungsoo as Jongdae’s mother smiles again and says, “You must be the mysterious Kyungsoo! It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

Smiling apprehensively, Kyungsoo shakes the hand being offered to him, responding with, “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Kim.”

Jongdae’s mother's eyes linger on Kyungsoo a moment longer before she’s ushering the two of them inside, Jongdae’s brother following with the bags. He shuts the door behind him and Kyungsoo’s engulfed in warmth, his eyes scanning the hallway with curiosity.

His attention flits back when he hears Jongdae say, “Can I see dad?”, unconsciously looking to Jongdae’s mother.

He catches the end of a look he can’t quite decipher before Jongdae’s mother smiles gently and says, “He’s sleeping right now, how about you show Kyungsoo your room? I’m sure he’d love to see the room you grew up in.”

Admittedly, Kyungsoo does want to see that, but he dampens his eagerness when he sees Jongdae give a nod, worried by the lack of response.

Jongdae reaches for Kyungsoo’s hand, about to lead him away until his mother calls out, “You may as well take the bags up with you”.

Passing a bag to each of them, she smiles at Kyungsoo and says, “Sorry, we don’t have a spare room so you’ll have to share with Jongdae. I assume that’ll be fine though”.

Ignoring the warmth in his cheeks that he knows means he’s blushing, Kyungsoo nods politely, choosing to ignore the stifled laugh Jongdae lets out. He lets Jongdae lead him to the stairs, following him up quickly, trying to focus on not tripping over his own feet and causing himself more embarrassment.

His eyes stay on the ground until Jongdae leads him through a door, looking up when Jongdae exclaims, “Well, welcome to my bedroom.”

Stepping further into the room so Jongdae can shut the door, Kyungsoo scans the surroundings. The room is a perfect representation of Jongdae’s interests and Kyungsoo feels a sense of comfort washing over him, no longer feeling so out of place in the house. He steps out of the way to let Jongdae pass by, his eyes trailing over Jongdae’s bookshelf filled with little trinkets that make Kyungsoo want to know the story behind each one.

Grinning, Jongdae drops down on the bed, voice teasing as he says, “Are you going to stare all day babe?”

Shaking himself out of his daze, Kyungsoo shakes his head, ignoring the flush on his cheeks as he moves to sit down on Jongdae’s bed. In moments, Jongdae’s pulling him to lie down, rolling on top of Kyungsoo to stop him from moving as he snickers into Kyungsoo’s neck.

Kyungsoo struggles for a moment, half-assed protests falling from his lips before he gives in and rests his hands lightly on Jongdae’s lower back. They lay there for a moment, Jongdae blowing air against Kyungsoo’s neck in an attempt to tickle him, and Kyungsoo mumbling out protests that lack any real strength, his arms wrapping around Jongdae’s back fully.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Jongdae presses a light kiss to Kyungsoo’s cheek, mumbling out, “Thank you for coming, having you here really does make things so much easier.”

Kyungsoo’s hands dance over Jongdae’s back, tracing little patterns as he says, “I���m happy to be here, it’s nice to see where you grew up.”

Jongdae hums lightly in response, nuzzling his face into Kyungsoo’s neck as he lets out a sigh. They lay there like that for a while, occasional soft-spoken exchanges that trail off back into the comfortable silence. They’re only brought out of their moment when there’s a knock on the door, Jongdae’s mother’s voice floating through as she says, “It’s time for dinner boys.”

Lifting his head up, Jongdae calls out, “We’re coming mum”, gently rolling off Kyungsoo and pushing himself to stand.

Kyungsoo follows, scrambling to get to his feet quicker when Jongdae starts heading to the door. He just comes up behind Jongdae as he opens the door, revealing Jongdae’s mother. She smiles at the two of them, leading the way downstairs as they follow her.

Before they enter the dining room, she turns to Jongdae, ruffling his hair as she says, “You can see your dad after dinner, he’s awake”.

Kyungsoo can’t quite read the expression that flits onto Jongdae’s face for a moment, summing it up as a mix between happiness, worry, and pain. It’s gone as soon as it comes, Jongdae’s usually cheeky grin replacing it as he says, “Thanks mum, can’t let your amazing cooking go to waste though so let’s go in”.

Lightly pushing Jongdae through the open dining room door, his mum chuckles, shaking her head amusedly. She then turns to Kyungsoo, smiling as she waves him to go ahead of her into the dining room.

The room is a classical style dining room, large wooden table in the middle fully set, with a cabinet against the wall that’s full of plates that are for special occasions that never occur. A piano sits in the corner of the room, dust gathering on the lid as if it hasn’t been played in a while. Jongdae swipes a finger along the lid as he passes the piano, whining that no one keeps his piano clean whilst he’s gone.

Kyungsoo stands awkwardly for a moment, watching Jongdae take a seat before moving to sit next to him when Jongdae ushers him to. Once seated, Jongdae reaches for Kyungsoo’s hand, linking their fingers as he softly says, “Relax, my family isn’t scary. They’ll only interrogate you a little bit.”

Laughing gently, Kyungsoo nods, watching as Jongdae’s brother walks into the room, sitting down across from Jongdae.

Jongdae smirks at his brother, nudging Kyungsoo as if to say ‘watch this’, before saying, “Aren’t you going to help mum bring the dishes through?”

His brother huffs out a laugh of disbelief as he responds, “I don’t see you helping.”

“My boyfriend’s here, I’m excused. Can’t go leaving poor Soo alone with you.”

Rolling his eyes, Jongdae’s brother stands, calling out, “Kyungsoo would love my company”, as he leaves the room. Amongst Jongdae’s snickering, Kyungsoo can faintly hear his brother say, “Let me take that mum, you’re trying to carry too much.”

Once they’re all sitting around the table, food on their plates that Kyungsoo’s quite impressed by, conversation starts to flow. Of course, it’s filled with many questions towards Kyungsoo, such as what he studies at university and how he ended up with Jongdae. The latter question makes him fumble with his words a little but Jongdae easily cuts in to answer the question with a response that almost seems rehearsed.

The response hits Kyungsoo harder than he expects, a little reminder that Jongdae may be acting like his boyfriend but they’re not really in a relationship. He continues to eat his meal to cover up his change in emotions, throwing in compliments towards Jongdae’s mum about the food in order to seem fine.

As the group finishes up their meal, Kyungsoo can’t help but notice Jongdae becoming increasingly restless. This continues until Jongdae’s mum says, “Yes Jongdae, you can go and see your father. Your brother and I will clear up.”

Jongdae practically jumps up from his seat, holding his hand out to Kyungsoo as he says, “Thanks mum, come on Soo, let’s go.”

Kyungsoo reaches for Jongdae’s hand a little shakily, trying to get up from his chair without falling over as Jongdae starts pulling his hand. Much like earlier, Kyungsoo lets Jongdae lead him upstairs, following him nervously. It’s not that Kyungsoo doesn’t want to meet Jongdae’s father, he’s just sort of scared to see Jongdae’s reaction, worried it’ll set off his own emotions.

He waits with bated breath once Jongdae knocks on a door, squeezing Jongdae’s hand lightly when they hear a voice call out, “Come in.”

Jongdae opens the door slowly, voice softer than usual as he says, “Hi Dad, how are you feeling?”

Kyungsoo tries not to stare but he can’t take his eyes off the man lying in the bed, zoning out of the conversation as he watches Jongdae hug him. The man’s undoubtedly Jongdae’s father, the only thing unalike between them is that he looks older, hair starting to grey. That, and the obvious tiredness in his appearance leaves no doubt that he’s very sick.

Jongdae’s dad cracks a smile, joking back and forth with Jongdae, but it clearly takes a lot of energy out of him every time he laughs, and there’s no doubt Jongdae’s noticed too.

After a minute or two, Jongdae’s father turns his attention to Kyungsoo, eyes fixed on him as he asks, “And who are you?”

Kyungsoo’s voice doesn’t sound like his own as he responds, “I’m Kyungsoo, I’m Jongdae’s boyfriend.” The word seems foreign in his mouth and he hopes he seemed convincing enough.

It seems to have worked because Jongdae’s father grins, turning his head to look at Jongdae as he says, “Boyfriend? Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this?”

Jongdae smiles at his dad, scratching the back of his head as he responds, “Well, with everything going on, I sort of wanted to make sure he’s a keeper before I introduced him to the family.”

“And is he a keeper?”

Jongdae turns to look at Kyungsoo, his smile way too sincere for someone who’s acting as he says, “Yeah, there’s no doubt about it.”

Kyungsoo tries not to smile too much, feeling his cheeks heating up. The situation is hard, he wants to act like he’s genuinely happy but at the same time, he has to keep reminding himself of Jongdae’s acting, not wanting to let himself get hurt.

They chat with Jongdae’s dad for a while, both of them often forgetting he’s sick until he becomes breathless and he needs a few moments to regain his normal breathing pattern and continue talking. Each time this happens, Kyungsoo catches the pain in Jongdae’s eyes, the latter worrying over his dad each time.

It’s hard to watch, and Kyungsoo can imagine it’s even harder for Jongdae, seeing the man who raised him so sick and struggling. It reminds Kyungsoo of what he went through as a kid and all he wants to do is comfort Jongdae, the latter holding it together a lot better than could be expected of someone in his position.

After a little while longer, Jongdae’s father jokingly sends them away to spend time doing something more than “hanging out with a boring old man.” It’s obvious he’s tired though and doesn’t want to further upset Jongdae by showing how sick he truly is.

Kyungsoo takes the initiative to lead Jongdae out of the room, saying their goodbyes to his father and shutting the door behind them gently. It’s not until they’re in Jongdae’s room with the door shut that he breaks down, letting Kyungsoo tug him into a hug as he sobs into his shoulder.

In between sobs, Jongdae quietly chokes out, “He looked so weak, I just wanted to make him instantly better.”

Rubbing little circles on Jongdae’s back, Kyungsoo softly replies, “I’m sure just getting to see you made him feel so much better.”

“I should have come sooner, I shouldn’t have waited so long to see him. I was being selfish!”

Leaning back to look at Jongdae properly, Kyungsoo wipes his tears away as he says, “Dae. it’s okay. You needed to finish your exams first, I’m sure he would have much rather you finish them before coming.”

Closing his eyes as he leans into Kyungsoo’s touch, Jongdae softly says, “It’s just so hard to see him this way.”

Pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s forehead, Kyungsoo mumbles, “I know baby, I understand.”

Jongdae just lets out a soft whimper, resting his forehead back on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Kyungsoo wraps his arms around Jongdae’s waist, holding him close and softly comforting him.

Even though it’s only about 9pm, the two of them decide to head to bed, Jongdae feeling completely cried out. They get ready for bed together like usual, the familiarity seeming like a comfort to Jongdae. Jongdae’s mother finds it quite amusing when she finds them cleaning their teeth side by side, making a jokey comment about how they’re already like a married couple.

The amused smile on Jongdae’s face as he nudges Kyungsoo makes Kyungsoo blush. He’s trying very hard to remind himself that Jongdae isn’t actually his boyfriend and thinking that far into their future would be bad for him. Still, seeing Jongdae smiling again is really nice and Kyungsoo can’t help but start grinning himself.

Once they finally slide into bed, Jongdae instantly cuddles up to Kyungsoo. He lifts his head up to press a quick kiss to Kyungsoo’s lips before going back to cuddling him.

Smiling, Kyungsoo runs a hand through Jongdae’s hair as he softly asks, “What was that for?”

Kyungsoo feels Jongdae shrug as he mumbles, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too! Your family is so welcoming. Your parents raised a good son.”

Jongdae lifts his head up at that, a cheeky grin on his face as he says, “My brother is pretty great, isn’t he?”

Rolling his eyes, Kyungsoo chuckles as he says, “I meant you, idiot.”

Jongdae’s grin shifts to a sincere smile as he says, “I know, thank you, Soo.”

Kyungsoo smiles softly, kissing Jongdae quickly before saying, “Let’s get some sleep, you look tired babe.”

Jongdae pouts, whining out, “Excuse you, I always look dashing”. but he moves to rest his head on Kyungsoo’s chest.

It’s not long until Jongdae’s clearly asleep, and Kyungsoo tries to focus on Jongdae’s soft breathing rather than the thousands of thoughts swimming in his mind. It takes longer than he’d like to fall asleep, but his mind feels heavy with everything he’s thinking about, not realising how much this trip would take a toll on him.

Jongdae throws Kyungsoo right into the deep end the next day, heading off to run errands with his brother and leaving Kyungsoo all alone with his mother. At first, he feels out of place, not sure what to do with himself. He’ll feel rude if he sits upstairs in Jongdae’s room though, he wants Jongdae’s parents to like him after all.

So, he’s grateful when Jongdae’s mother says, “Kyungsoo, would you mind helping me with dinner?”

Kyungsoo shoots up out of his seat, voice sounding too eager as he says, “It’d be my pleasure, what can I do?”

Laughing softly at Kyungsoo’s eagerness, Jongdae’s mother sets him a task and the two of them get to work in silence.

It’s not long before Jongdae’s mother breaks the silence, saying, “Jongdae told me you’re quite the cook. He loves your food and he says you’ve taught him a lot.”

Smiling softly, Kyungsoo blushes at the thought of Jongdae telling his mother good things about him. He nods as he replies, “I’m a culinary major, so I’m always cooking and trying out new dishes. Jongdae seems to like helping.”

There’s a fond smile on Jongdae’s mother’s face as she continues chopping vegetables. Without looking up, she says, “You really came into Jongdae’s life at the right time, the impact you had on him is obvious. I can’t thank you enough for helping him.”

Kyungsoo has to stop what he’s doing, turning to look at Jongdae’s mother as he softly replies, “I’m glad I can be there for him, I know how hard it is for him and I want to be there to help him through it all.”

Jongdae’s mother still doesn’t look up, but Kyungsoo can see the emotion on her face as she says, “I don’t think he would have been able to handle seeing his father last night without you there. It makes his father so happy to see Jongdae so in love, you should have heard him this morning, talking about how he’s never seen Jongdae look at someone the way he looks at you.”

For just this talk, Kyungsoo lets himself believe that Jongdae does love him and that this isn’t a fake relationship they’ve created to please his father. He’s starting to get emotional himself, taking deep breaths to calm himself in an attempt not to cry, but the emotion in Jongdae’s mother's voice is getting to him.

She continues after a moment, smiling sadly as she says, “I’m so thankful that Jongdae has you, Kyungsoo. When his father goes, I’ll feel so much better knowing Jongdae has you with him, that you’ll stick by his side.”

Looking Kyungsoo in the eyes finally, she continues, “I hope you’ll stay in this family, Kyungsoo. I know we’ve only just met, but the way Jongdae looks at you and talks about you, I can tell you’re the best thing for him.” Her eyes well up as she says, “Seeing him happy with you when he’s struggling so much really warms my heart.”

Kyungsoo can’t keep up the calm facade anymore, letting out a small sob as he breaks down, tears rolling down his cheeks. He swipes away his tear in embarrassment, choking out, “He means so much to me, I’m so glad I can make him happy. I’m so glad you approve of me, Jongdae thinks so highly of you and your opinion of me means a lot.”

Jongdae’s mother smiles, lightly rubbing Kyungsoo’s arm in comfort as she responds, “We’re so glad to have you here, Kyungsoo.”

Coughing slightly, Kyungsoo mumbles, “God, I’m sorry”, continuing to brush away his tears as quickly as they fall.

Jongdae’s mother smiles, voice soft as she asks, “Sorry about what, dear?”

“Sorry, I never cry and now I can’t seem to stop, it’s embarrassing.”

Laughing lightly, Jongdae’s mother takes Kyungsoo’s hands in hers, squeezing them as she says, “Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret, Jongdae will never know.”

Chuckling, Kyungsoo smiles down at her and says, “Jongdae has the best mother, no wonder he turned out so great, but don’t tell him I said that.”

She smiles, turning back to preparing dinner as she says, “Of course I won’t, that boy has too much of an ego already.”

When Jongdae returns with his brother later, his mother and Kyungsoo have dinner prepared and are chatting easily in the kitchen. Kyungsoo tries to ignore the pleased look on Jongdae’s face, but it’s difficult to when Jongdae kisses him hello before back hugging him.

Jongdae’s brother makes a comment about PDA, but there’s a fond smile on his face as he watches Jongdae ask Kyungsoo about his day. Jongdae’s mother begins telling them about how much wonderful help Kyungsoo had been, sending a quick wink at Kyungsoo that has the two of them smiling. Kyungsoo tries not to feel too fond of just how happy Jongdae looks.

After dinner, Jongdae’s brother says, “Are you two packed to go?”

Kyungsoo and Jongdae exchange guilty looks as Jongdae says, “Not quite.”

Rolling his eyes, Jongdae’s brother stands up and says, “You two go and finish packing, I’ll help Mum clear the table. You can say goodbye to Dad whilst you’re at it too.”

Jongdae stands so Kyungsoo follows, letting Jongdae lead him out of the room. As he leaves, he overhears Jongdae’s mother saying, “What did I do to deserve a wonderful son like you?”

Kyungsoo can’t help the fond smile that appears on his face, he’s only spent two days with Jongdae’s family, but the affection they all have for each other makes him feel all warm inside. He ignores the slight sadness he feels from missing motherly affection himself.

He’s deep in his thoughts, only coming back to when Jongdae opens his bedroom door, chuckling lightly as he says, “Why are you so quiet? I thought you’d be nagging me for not packing earlier.”

Smiling, Kyungsoo shrugs as he says, “You had a lot on your mind”, moving to start packing any items that had strayed out of his own bag.

There’s a slight silence as Jongdae starts packing his bag, an expression on his face that Kyungsoo knows means Jongdae wants to say something but he’s worried about Kyungsoo's reaction. Choosing to not push him, Kyungsoo starts to help Jongdae pack his bag, humming softly to fill the silence.

When Jongdae’s bag is packed, he finally breaks the silence, eyes downcast as he mumbles, “Kyungsoo, would you mind if I said goodbye to my dad alone?”

Kyungsoo is bewildered as to why Jongdae would think he’d react badly to that, but he quickly smiles softly and says, “That’s fine babe, I’ll go and help your brother put the bags in the car. Tell your dad I said goodbye and that it was lovely meeting him.”

Jongdae smiles, leaning forward to press a light kiss to Kyungsoo’s lips before softly saying, “Thank you.”

Kyungsoo just kisses him again before moving to pick up the bags. He takes one last look at Jongdae’s room, convinced he’ll not see it again, before exiting the room and heading downstairs. When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, Jongdae’s brother pops his head out of the kitchen and cheerily says, “Ready to go?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, responding, “Jongdae’s saying goodbye to your dad, I said we’d put the bags in the car.”

Nodding understandingly, Jongdae’s brother walks over to him, taking a bag out of his hand and grabbing his car keys from the table by the front door. Kyungsoo follows him out the front door, placing the bag in the car boot once it’s opened. As Jongdae’s brother is closing the boot, he smiles at Kyungsoo and says, “I’m really glad Jongdae settled down with a guy like you, you fit right into the family. Mum loves you!”

Kyungsoo smiles, softly responding, “It’s an honour to meet you all.”

He can’t ignore the sick feeling in his stomach though, suddenly feeling awful for lying to such lovely people, even if it was for Jongdae’s sake and for a good reason. He hates that he’s also selfishly upset that this will all end when they return home, it’s not fair of him to expect Jongdae to actually continue acting like his boyfriend with everything that’s going on in his life.

Shaking his thoughts away, Kyungsoo says, “I should say goodbye to your mum, and thank her for her hospitality.”

Jongdae’s brother just nods, leading the way back to the house quietly. Kyungsoo can’t help but feel uneasy that Jongdae’s brother has sussed that something’s up. All he can hope is that he hasn’t blown it for Jongdae.

Making his way into the kitchen, Kyungsoo grins as he says, “Mrs. Kim, I wanted to thank you for how lovely you’ve been to me and say goodbye.”

Instantly, Jongdae’s mother sweeps Kyungsoo up into a hug, squeezing him tightly as she says, “You’re always welcome here Kyungsoo, don’t you forget that.”

Smiling Kyungsoo steps back when she lets him go and responds, “You’ll have to make sure to send Jongdae that recipe for me, he always misses your food, I’d be honoured to be able to attempt to recreate it.”

Just as she responds, “Of course, you’ll have to tell me how it turns out!”, Jongdae comes down the stairs.

His voice sounds forced as he jokingly says, “Mum, stop trying to adopt Kyungsoo into the family.” When he reaches Kyungsoo's side, Kyungsoo can see his eyes are rimmed red and there are dried tear tracks on his face.

His mum chuckles, pulling Jongdae into her arms as she says, “Why not? He helps more around the house than you.”

Jongdae protests, but he squeezes his mum tighter for a moment, kissing her cheek before pulling away from her. There’s a quiet moment before Jongdae’s brother says, “We should get on the road, it’s starting to get dark.”

Jongdae nods, pulling his mum into one more hug as he says, “Behave yourself whilst I’m gone.”

He just narrowly misses the tea towel his mum tries to lightly hit him with, dodging away as he makes his way to the front door. Kyungsoo smiles, saying a final goodbye to Jongdae’s mum before following Jongdae’s brother out the front door.

Unlike the journey up, the journey back to Kyungsoo’s house is a lot less awkward for him. He easily joins the conversation with Jongdae and his brother, all worries that Jongdae’s brother noticed something suspicious leaving his mind.

When they arrive outside Kyungsoo’s house, they all get out of the car, Jongdae’s brother walking over to the boot to get their bags for them. He places the bags on the ground, opening his arms for a hug from Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo’s hesitant but he lets him hug him, thanking him for the ride home as he lets go.

Passing the bags to Kyungsoo, Jongdae’s brother grins and says, “It’s no problem, hopefully we’ll see you again soon!”

Kyungsoo nods, taking that as his cue to leave, heading towards the house with the bags. He’s just unlocked the door to the house when he hears Jongdae’s brother say, “Okay Jongdae, what’s going on?”

Jongdae’s voice sounds forced as he says, “What do you mean?”

Kyungsoo knows he shouldn’t listen in but he can’t help himself, stepping through the door but leaving it open enough to hear them talking.

Jongdae’s brother sighs and says, “I know you Jongdae, you’re lying about something, now tell me what’s going on.”

“Clearly you know what it is if you’re asking me.”

“He’s not your boyfriend, is he?”

There’s silence for a moment and then Jongdae’s brother raises his voice slightly, saying “Is he, Jongdae?”

Jongdae sounds exasperated as he responds, “No, okay? He’s not my boyfriend!”

Kyungsoo’s stomach drops as he listens, feeling awful for giving away Jongdae’s plan.

Jongdae’s brother sounds irritated as he responds, “What the hell were you thinking? Lying to mum and dad like that, didn’t you think of the consequences?”

“Of course I did! Dad’s exactly why I did it, I didn’t want him thinking I was miserable and alone if he does - if he - well, you know.”

Jongdae’s brother's voice softens as he responds, “And what if Dad doesn’t die? Or what if he does, then what will you tell Mum? Will you just keep pretending he’s your boyfriend?”

Kyungsoo holds his breath, knowing what the answer should be but still not wanting to hear it. He feels like his heart is in his throat as he listens.

After a moment, Jongdae says, “No, either way, I was going to tell them we broke up, come up with a reason that lets them down lightly. Of course, I wouldn’t do anything to upset them.”

“And what about Kyungsoo? Are you just leading him on in all of this?”

Kyungsoo decides he’s heard enough at that point, rushing towards the door to the living room, dropping the bags in the hallway before he steps into the living room.

Chanyeol looks up from the couch, grinning as he says, “You’re home! How was - wait, what’s wrong?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, mumbling, “Not now”, but stepping forward to let Chanyeol hug him hello.

Chanyeol has a puzzled look on his face, even when Jongdae comes into the living room, questioning Kyungsoo as to why the bags are placed in such an untidy way.

Kyungsoo shrugs, saying, “Chanyeol attacked me with a hug.”

Looking around, Jongdae’s face falls as he says, “I expected Baekhyun to be here, I’m gonna go back to the flat to see him, I guarantee he’s missed me.”

Kyungsoo forces a smile onto his face, following Jongdae into the hallway as he says, “I wouldn’t doubt that.”

Jongdae opens the front door, turning to Kyungsoo as he says, “Thank you for coming to see my family, having you there meant a lot.”

Kyungsoo forces a smile on his face, but even he knows it doesn’t look genuine. So, he says, “Of course, I’m glad I helped.”

He lets Jongdae kiss him quickly before pulling away and saying, “Say hi to Baekhyun from me.”

Jongdae nods, a confused look on his face as he turns away, shutting the door behind him.

The moment the door closes, Chanyeol comes into the hallway, giving Kyungsoo a look that has him breaking down, tears running down his cheeks as Chanyeol rushes over to pull him into a hug.

Kyungsoo leans into Chanyeol, burying his face into his chest as Chanyeol softly says, “Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He lets Chanyeol lead him into the living room, curling into Chanyeol’s side when they sit on the couch. Chanyeol smiles at him sadly, voice jokey as he says, “What’s this, huh? Usually, I’m the one crying to you.”

Kyungsoo laughs shakily, wiping away some tears as he responds, “I know, this never happens.”

Chanyeol smiles softly, glad Kyungsoo’s stopped crying, he pushes Kyungsoo’s hair out of his eyes as he says, “So, what happened? I expected you to be happy.”

“He’s going to end things with me.”

“Jongdae? What makes you think that?”

“He said it.”

Chanyeol cocks his head, a puzzled look on his face that Kyungsoo would laugh at if he wasn’t upset. He pauses before saying, “But he kissed you goodbye, I saw it.”

“Well, he said it to his brother, not me. He didn’t know I was listening.”

Chanyeol’s expression shifts and he seems almost annoyed as he asks, “What did he say?”

Kyungsoo's voice cracks slightly as he responds, “His brother realised we were faking being boyfriends, Jongdae said that he always planned on saying we’d broken up regardless of if his dad dies.”

“But, that doesn’t mean you guys will stop being together.”

Tears well up in Kyungsoo’s eyes again when he replies, “It means I’ll never be more to him than what we are, he doesn’t see me as a long-term thing. I’m not good enough for him, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol looks like his own heart is breaking as he wipes Kyungsoo’s tears off his cheeks, softly saying, “You’re way too good for him, Kyungsoo. You deserve to be treated like the wonderful person you are.”

Kyungsoo just tears up more, burying his face into Chanyeol’s chest, letting the taller boy comfort him.

Chanyeol waits for Kyungsoo to calm down a little before asking, “Did he say anything else?”

Leaning away from Chanyeol’s chest so he can be heard, Kyungsoo responds, “His brother asked if Jongdae has been leading me on. I walked away after that because I couldn’t bare to hear his answer.”

“What are you going to do then? End things first?”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, wiping away his tear tracks and responding, “No, I don’t know yet. I just know I don’t want to talk to him for a while.”

Chanyeol nods, reaching for the tv remote as he says, “Probably a good idea until you calm down, we can have a day or two of movie marathons.”

Smiling softly, Kyungsoo replies, “I’d really like that, but I don’t want to take you away from Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol flicks through Netflix looking for a film as he responds, “He’ll understand, he knows how important you are to me.”

“I’m so glad you and Baekhyun worked things out, and that he’s so understanding of our friendship.”

Chanyeol presses play on a film as he responds, “Kyungsoo, there’s no way I’d ever stay with anyone that doesn’t understand our friendship.”

“Even Baekhyun?”

“Even Baekhyun.”

Rubbing away the tear tracks on his cheeks, Kyungsoo sits up into a more comfortable position, reaching for the couch blanket. He passes Chanyeol one side of it so the blanket covers both their laps and mumbles, “Alright, no more soppy shit.”

Chanyeol laughs, ruffling Kyungsoo’s hair despite Kyungsoo’s protests. The protests and laughing fade into a comfortable silence as the two of them focus on the film.

Kyungsoo still knows his thoughts about Jongdae are in his mind, but he pushes them away and uses the film as a distraction.

Dividers from this post

[eazy-group]

11 Top-Rated Camping Tents for Every Budget

New Post has been published on https://eazycamping.net/11-top-rated-camping-tents-for-every-budget/

11 Top-Rated Camping Tents for Every Budget

Whether a rookie or a seasoned veteran, a camper has to have confidence in their tent. It’s your home away from home, and more so than any other piece of camping gear, it dictates how comfortable you’ll be. After all, no one wants to wake up wet or perhaps worse: covered in mosquito bites. Fortunately, tents, which were once mostly made of heavy canvas and pretty rudimentary, have gotten a lot more lightweight and technical in the past few decades. From Amazon to Ebay (although you may want to think twice about buying a secondhand tent), there’s never been a bigger selection to choose from starting at just $50. Whether you’re planning to backpack the PCT in the dead of winter or simply spend a summer weekend at a KOA with a pool and putt putt golf, here are 11 top-rated camping tents for every budget.

1. Coleman Sundome 2-Person Camping Tent, from $50, Amazon

With nearly 35,000 five-star ratings, the Coleman Sundome Camping Tent is ranked #1 on Amazon’s list of Best Sellers in Camping Tents. It’s the perfect entry level three-season tent for car campers looking for an affordable weatherproof tent. Despite how cheap it is, the frame is designed to withstand winds of 35+mph, and welded corners and inverted seams keep water out. “Last night, I had the opportunity to put my tent to the test during a heavy rainstorm, and I must say, I am incredibly impressed. Despite the non-stop downpour for nearly 5 hours, not a single drop of water made its way inside the tent,” writes one Amazon shopper whose review is titled “Passed the test.” The two-person model weighs 7.5 lbs., and it’s also available in three-person, four-person and six-person (all of which are under $100) models. Note: while it is the cheapest tent on this list, it also takes the longest time (10-15 minutes) to set up.

2. Clostnature Lightweight Backpacking Tent, from $67, Amazon

If you’re willing to spend a little more to shave off a couple of pounds, consider the Clostnature Lightweight Backpacking Tent which has more than 1,700 five star ratings and an impressive 4.6-star average rating. This two-person, three-season tent weighs 5.7 lbs and is designed to be pitched in a pinch, even by just one person. “I came across it during a solo camping trip in Yosemite, and it blew me away with its superior construction and weatherproofing,” says Mal Hellyer, a travel blogger who has camped everywhere from the Alps to the Australian Outback. “It stood strong during an unexpected thunderstorm and kept me dry, a crucial factor when you’re miles away from civilization.”

3. CORE 9-Person Tent, $100, Amazon

Whether you have a big family or your kids are begging to bring their friends, you’ll have plenty of room for everyone in this three-season, nine-person tent with nearly 4,000 five-star ratings on Amazon (where it’s currently 33% off). With a whopping 144 square feet of space, the CORE 9-Person Tent easily fits three queen air mattresses. Although it’s an entry-level tent, it is water-resistant and it features a handy gear loft with plenty of pockets and a hook for your flashlight or lantern. It also weighs just 18.5 pounds which is remarkable given how big it is, and if it’s not big enough, don’t worry. There’s an 11-Person model (for $130) with 162 square feet of space!

4. Eddie Bauer Carbon River 4, $126 (originally $179), Eddie Bauer

If you’re looking for a bargain, consider the Eddie Bauer Carbon River 4 which is currently 30% off. This popular four-person, three-season tent weighs 10 pounds and offers 64 square feet of interior space. Like all Eddie Bauer gear, it’s designed to last for years, and it’s also very user-friendly. Pieces are even color-coded for easy setup. The double-wall construction is durable, and thanks to Eddie Bauer’s signature WeatherEdge technology, it’s fully waterproof. In addition to featuring a polyurethane coating that keeps water out, the tent is also treated with a flame retardant.

5. Kelty Wireless 4-Person Tent, $150 (originally $200), Amazon

One step up from entry level, the Kelty Wireless 4-Person Tent is a great option for car campers who want something reliable. It’s not called wireless because it doesn’t feature wires. It’s called wireless because cell phone reception and WiFi aren’t included. Still, this four-person, three-season tent does boast doors on either side and two vestibules for maximum dry storage. It has a 4.6-star average rating on Amazon where it’s currently 25% off. “The four person model is large and spacious due to the spreader bar at the top. Easy to set up for one person,” writes one shopper who opted for Kelty because her last tent, which she bought in 1977, lasted so long. It weighs just under 12 pounds and offers 59 square feet of interior space.

6. Quechua Two-Second Waterproof Pop-Up Tent, $229, Decathlon

It’s hard to find a tent that you can set up faster than the aptly-named Quechua Two-Second Waterproof Pop-Up Tent. This three-season, two-person tent doesn’t discriminate against tall campers, it’s ideal for people up to 6’8, and it’s great for people who run hot. The tent’s “Fresh Technology” feature reflects the sun’s rays to keep you cool even in the hottest temperatures. But what really sets this bestseller (it has a 4.5-star rating from more than 1,100 reviews) apart is its patented Black Out technology promising 99% darkness at any time of the day. It weighs 10.4 pounds and is built to withstand wind gusts of up to 30 mph.

7. Outdoor Vitals One-Person Trekking Pole Backpacking Tent, $290, Outdoor Vitals

Weighing about as much as a pair of shoes, the Outdoor Vitals One-Person Trekking Pole Backpacking Tent is perhaps the lightest tent money can buy. Despite weighing less than two pounds, this one-person, four-season tent is made of an uber durable nylon and has multiple “storm points” and extra-long stake lines that give you serious peace of mind even in the harshest of conditions. “I had it out in a pretty big thunderstorm, and had no issues with the rain and wind,” writes one reviewer. “The tent sets up quickly, it has plenty of room for one person, and the material seems like it is very durable. I think this is going to become my go-to tent for ultralight backpacking!” The inside has a mesh pocket and two hanging loops, but with just 17 square feet of space it may not be the tent for you if you’re claustrophobic.

8. NEMO Aurora 2-Person Backpacking Tent and Footprint, $299, NEMO

If you’re looking for a lightweight two-person backpacking tent, look no further than the Nemo Aurora. This three-season tent, which comes with NEMO’s lifetime warranty, weighs just over five pounds and has 31.8 square feet of space. And because it comes with NEMO’s signature Pawprints, which protects the footprint of the tent and provides insulation, it’s perhaps the most dog-friendly tent on this list. Another fun feature is the overhead light pockets which utilize a “light-diffusing fabric to cast an even glow.”

9. Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL2, $413 (originally $550), Moosejaw

Thousands of campers swear by the three-season best-seller that is the Big Agnes Copper Spur HV UL2. On Moosejaw alone it has an impressive 4.7-star average rating from 750 reviews. At just over three pounds and 29 square feet, it’s a nice compromise between an ultralight backpacking tent and a lightweight tent. Features include two doors, two awning-style vestibules, a new TipLock Tent Buckle (which makes setting it up a breeze) and 100% waterproof seams. “I took it out for a two-week backpacking trip in the mountains of Peru, and it handled the wind, rain and even snow with no issues,” says Charles Breitbart, a travel blogger and avid camper.

10. Mountain Hardwear Bridger 6 Tent, $950, Mountain Hardwear

In terms of storage, it’s hard to beat the Mountain Hardwear Bridger 6 Tent. This six-person, three-season tent has eight interior pockets, a removable gear loft and two full-size vestibules where you can stash your gear so it doesn’t get covered in dew, or worse. Designed to function as your base camp for outdoor pursuits, the Bridger 6, which weighs about 24 pounds, has handy features including two saloon-style doors, a built-in doormat and a full coverage fly. With 89 square feet of interior space and another 94 square feet of vestibule space, it can comfortably fit six.

11. Thule Approach, $2,300, Thule

While it’s easily the most expensive and heaviest (110 pounds) tent on this list, the Thule Approach is also the most comfortable and it can be used in all four seasons. This rooftop abode even comes with a dual layer mattress. It’s available in three sizes, and all of them boast a panoramic roof with skylights, lockable mounting brackets and a removable rain cover with three different modes. While it looks complex, after all it involves a ladder, it can be unpacked and set up in just three minutes.

Katie Jackson is a writer and media specialist based in Montana’s Big Sky Country. Living and working everywhere from New York to Nicaragua, Katie is no stranger to adventure. When she’s not traveling the world (or writing about it!) she’s busy chasing after a Leonberger named Zeus. Follow Katie’s travels on Instagram @katietalkstravel.