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jockbroski34 · 9 months ago

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How Things Used To Be

I wonder how long it took me to notice that there was something wrong with Nathan. We had been best friends for years, ever since the 5th grade, and we always hung out together both in and out of school. I was hoping things could’ve stayed like that this summer, but it seemed like fate had other plans. Between family vacations and college prep, it seemed like he didn’t have time for me anymore. And to make it worse, whenever he wasn’t doing that, he was hanging out with some other guys who I had never met, and he never even bothered to ask me if I wanted to come with. I know people grow and change, but I didn’t want to see it happen to my own best friend. On the bright side, we’re going to the same college, so I hope I can see him around.

And I did see him. It was the third week of courses, once I was starting to get acquainted with campus life. For once, I was actually being more social, trying to fill the gap that Nathan left. I used this opportunity to start talking to people in my classes and I found that we had some similar interests. I wish I could say the same for my roommate, but he mostly keeps to himself and we don’t have much in common.

Okay, back to Nathan. I was walking back to the dorms after my last class, texting one of my classmates about the homework. I was interrupted when I walked headfirst into another student. I should’ve been paying more attention to my surroundings. I looked up at the giant in front of me, probably 6’3”, before apologizing.

“James, is that you?” the giant asked. The voice sounded very familiar, yet at the same time, different. I took a closer look at him. “Long time no see, huh?” I was surprised when I realized who it was.

“Nate? Woah, what happened to you?” I couldn’t believe that this person in front of me was my best friend. This was not the same Nathan from three months ago during graduation. He was always a bit taller than me, but he had to have grown at least 3 inches. He used to wear glasses, but it seemed like he switched over to contacts.

In the warm August heat, he was wearing a tank top which revealed his newfound biceps for the whole world to see. The tank top clung closely to his chest and I could see his newly-formed six-pack through the fabric. He was wearing basketball shorts that were short enough that I could catch a glimpse of his thighs, which were just as big as his arms. I never knew Nathan went to the gym, and if he did, he never told me. But still, I couldn’t comprehend how he became so huge in just three months, which made me more curious about what he had been up to. A backwards hat fit tightly atop his head with Greek letters on them. Sigma Lambda Chi… Had Nathan really joined a frat? To be completely honest, he looked like he was cosplaying as a frat bro, a far cry from how I knew him.

“Like what you see, bro?” James chuckled, as he flexed one of his arms. He definitely never came across as a cocky showoff, but I was too distracted by his flexed bicep to notice. I caught myself staring for a second too long, before feeling my face turn red hot. Me and Nathan knew everything about each other, but there was one thing I never told him. I was gay. To tell you the truth, I had a crush on him, but I knew I could never tell him to preserve our friendship. But now he looks even better, and he hasn’t made time for me at all. Now he really felt out of my league.

“I’ve been working out a lot lately. I’m glad you noticed.” He still had his signature smile, but it looked out of place on his new body. His face especially looked a lot more angular and masculine. A visible tan glazed over his body like a fresh coat of paint.

“Daaamn! You look great, dude!” To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to feel talking to him again. On one hand, I was happy to see him again, and, admittedly, a little surprised to see him like this. On the other hand, he ditched me this whole summer to hang out with some other guys. It felt so bittersweet.

“If there weren’t other people around, I’d let you…I mean uh, how have you been bro? I know I’ve been busy a lot lately. Sorry about that, dude.” We told each other what we did over the summer, and wow, was his summer more interesting.

As we caught up, I learned more about what he has been up to. Apparently, he joined a frat and he was hanging out with the guys there more and more. He promised that he’d bring me to a party sometime, but I was hesitant because I’m not much of a party animal. That lifestyle just isn’t for me. He also said he was thinking about joining our school’s football team at the request of his roommate, which I found even more surprising because Nathan never played sports in high school. I did track, but I was never that big into sports myself. Our conversation was interrupted as another guy entered the scene.

“Yo, Nate! Finally found you. You seriously need to get better at texting me back, dude. And who’s this dude?” The guy was wearing the same hat as Nate, so I figured he was one of his frat bros.

“My bad, bro. Brett, this is James. We go way back. James, this is Brett. He’s my roommate. We met over the summer and we’ve been hanging out since.”

“Alright, cool, bro,” Brett responded, clearly impatient and indifferent towards me. He dismissed me entirely, almost like I wasn’t worth his time. “You still going to the gym with me or what?”

“Sorry, bro. I just ran into him and we were catching up.” Nathan responded. “Hey, I gotta get going. We should get food sometime. Peace!” I watched as Nathan and Brett walked away in the opposite direction of me towards the gym. As they moved further away, I could hear Brett chastise him about something. This is the guy that Nathan ditched me for? I hope I’m wrong, but he seemed like kind of a dick. I know I was jealous of him for taking up my best friend’s time, but I didn’t trust him. As for me, I returned to the dorm to work on the assignment with my roommate.

The next time I saw Nate was that weekend, when I held up his promise to get something to eat. I tried to ask him about it earlier in the week, but he was doing stuff at the frat all that time. I was at least grateful that he took time out of his schedule for me for once. He mentioned that he normally doesn’t hang out with anyone who wasn’t in the frat, almost like they were some exclusive bro clique that I was excluded from. For once, it was good to hang out with him one-on-one without any of his frat bros getting in the way. I expected things to be like how they were before, but I couldn’t be any more wrong.

It’s not that I disliked the new Nathan, but I felt like we didn’t have much common ground anymore. It was like he was a completely different person. He didn’t seem to care that much about our old interests anymore. He didn’t have time for video games and he just wasn’t that interested in watching movies or photography anymore. All he seemed to care about was working out all day and partying all night. All he would talk about was some stupid stuff he or one of his bros did.

Plus, he told me he switched his major from mechanical engineering to be a personal trainer. It seemed like he just became a total gym bro overnight. The studious and witty Nathan that I loved kinda just seemed to be a stereotypical meathead now. The worst part was that I knew that this was the same Nathan deep down, and he still treated me the same even if he was a lot busier. I felt like maybe I was the problem since he was clearly still having a good time, and I wasn’t. Why do I feel this way?

I felt my mood change as we talked. Eventually, I figured it was time to cut off the conversation and return to the dorm, but Nathan definitely knew something was off. He texted me later that evening, asking me if everything was alright. To be honest, I wanted to make some lame excuse that I was feeling sick, but we’ve always been honest with each other, so I told him how I really felt.

Me: Nate, to be honest, I think I need some time away from you. I don’t hate you or anything, but it feels like we’ve been growing apart and I feel like you’ve become a different person. I feel like when I look at you, I don’t see the Nathan I’ve known for years, but someone else entirely.

I wanted to say more about how I felt about his new changes, but I didn’t want to escalate things.

Nathan: James, I’m sorry you feel that way about me. I felt like we had a good time today. I’ve grown and changed a lot recently, and I’ve realized a lot about myself, but I’m happy with who I am right now. I know I’m spending a lot of time at the gym or with Brett or my other bros, but I still care about you deeply, bro. You might be right though. Hanging out with you isn’t the same as hanging with the guys at the frat.

Me: Do you honestly see yourself as just a frat boy? You’re more than that. You’re my best friend. But now, you have more in common with the jocks from high school than the Nathan I knew. It’s hard talking to you now since all you care about anymore are your gains and partying. You’re nothing more than a meathead now.

Nathan: So that’s how you see me, bro? The reason I had been avoiding you is because I knew that you wouldn’t like seeing me like this. I guess I was right, bro. But trust me, I’m happy like this. I’m a lot more social than when I was when I was with you, and I’ve even become more in shape too. I care about our friendship more than you can possibly imagine, but I guess this is for the best. To be honest, I think it would be a lot of fun if you were here in the frat with me, but I know you wouldn’t say yes.

I didn’t bother responding. I could never picture myself joining a frat. I would never get along with his frat bro friends, especially Brett, who seemed to be the one he was closest with. I still couldn’t believe Nate would choose him over me. I wasn’t sure whether to feel angry, or sad, or disappointed towards him. I felt like he was wasting his life partying when he should be studying. To think this was the person I cared about more than anyone. It was at this point that I figured I probably wouldn’t have my old friend back. Or so I thought.

A couple weeks passed and I tried to move on from Nathan. I always saw him on his story drinking and partying late into the night at the frat house or posting selfies at the gym. He looked like he was fully embracing his new frat boy persona now. If he didn’t still care about me, it would’ve felt like he was doing it out of spite. As for me, I started to hang out with my classmates more and more, and there was even a guy I went on a date with. It was a nice date and I did like the guy, but for some reason, the thought of Nathan lingered in my mind. Even though I hated what he had become, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him. I couldn’t deny how much he turned me on. Why was I still thirsting after a stupid fucking frat bro? One afternoon, after I returned to my dorm, I received a text on my phone. To my surprise, it was Nathan.

“Hey bro, can we talk? There are some things I need to get off my chest.”

I didn’t know what he could possibly want with me now. I suppose I can hear him out just so I can see what he wants. I went over to his room further down the hall, and thankfully Brett was not here to ruin the moment. Nate said that he was doing some preparations for some stuff at the frat. When I asked, he didn’t specify what though. It always feels like stuff at the frat is kept under wraps.

“Did you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Even if it’s beer?” A mischievous grin appeared on his face. Was he seriously offering me beer? I knew that alcohol wasn’t allowed in the dorms, but clearly that rule didn’t faze him. Obviously he knew how to get his hands on some drinks. To be honest, I had never drank alcohol before, but I figured this would be the easiest way to try it before I turned 21. Plus, it might alleviate the tension between us. Either that or make us fight like two drunkards in a bar.

“Sure, why not.” Nate went to get two bottles for us. I took my first sip and was disgusted by the bitter taste of the beer.

“You don’t like it? Neither did I at first,” Nate chuckled. “After a while, you get used to it.” Nate turned the TV on as we chatted. I apologized about what I said about him last time we talked, but he said it was no big deal. I felt like I was a little too harsh on him. It could just be the alcohol, but I found that I got along with him better than I did weeks ago. As we chatted, my body started to tingle. Was this how it felt like to be drunk?

“Hey, Nate. I feel kinda weird, but not like drunk weird. Is this normal, bro?” I asked. By this point, we both had two drinks each. I didn’t mind the taste of the beer the second time.

“Nah, you’re fine bro.” Nate responded, with a smile on his face. Compared to me, he appeared to be much more sober. “It happens sometimes, especially when you’re not used to it.” I figured he knew best, since he was the one drinking and partying all the time, so I ignored this foreign feeling rushing through my body. I felt as if my body was overheating as I felt my arms and legs throb and pulsate. Sweat was leaking off my armpits and down my forehead. There was part of me that knew that something was off, but it was drowned out by the alcohol. As I took another sip, I felt my arm spasm as I accidentally spilled some beer onto my shirt. Shit, I wasn’t expecting to do laundry later.

“Damn bro, you made a mess. You alright? Do you wanna change your shirt?” Nate asked. I nodded and he quickly went to his room to pick out something for me. It wasn’t the first time I had to wear his clothes. “Sorry about that, bro. First thing I found. Hope it fits you.” It was a stringer tank with Sigma Lambda Chi on it. I bet Nate looked like a walking symbol of the frat wearing that stuff. For some reason, the idea was kinda amusing to me because it seemed so over the top. I wondered how I would look dressed up like that. I’d probably look really stupid.

I stripped out of my wet shirt and changed right in front of him. I caught a whiff from my armpits, and I thought I smelled like a sweaty gym bro. The tank appeared to be a size up and it hung loosely on me. Still, it was better than nothing I guess. Despite that, it had a nice familiar smell to it though. It smelled like Nathan, but at the same time, it had a different flavor to it. He smelled a lot more manly than I remembered. I bet he wore it to the gym often.

Eventually, after my third drink, I went to go to the bathroom. My body was starting to ache, like I had just done a workout with Nate earlier. Workout…Was that what happened earlier? …I think so? Did we work out after class and come back to his place for some brewskis? For some reason, the events of today felt incredibly fuzzy to me. I was starting to forget the reason I was here in the first place.

I clumsily stumbled over my feet which looked bigger than usual. After I took a piss, I looked at myself in the mirror. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I didn’t always look that big, right? From a first glance, it looked like I was looking through one of those distorted mirrors they have at amusement parks. I had to have been really drunk at this point. I chuckled at the figure in front of me. At this point, I almost looked like one of those frat bros! I decided to flex my arms like they would, oblivious to the fact that they already grew just a little bit, before joining Nate on the couch.

“There you are, big man!” he said as he squeezed my muscles. I have been working out recently, I think. “I thought you passed out in there. Most guys don’t last that long for their first time, but you look good enough for another brewski.”

After downing our fourth drinks, the conversation took a different turn.

“Yo, James. I knew you said you weren’t too big on the idea of joining our frat last time we chatted, but how do you feel now, having thought things over?”

I remembered our last conversation. Honestly, I was so drunk that I didn’t remember why I turned him down in the first place. The idea that seemed unappealing to me at the time seemed like it was perfect for me at this moment. I didn’t even understand why I would be so reluctant to join. I needed to join more than anything else. I would do anything to join, even if I had to completely humiliate myself in front of my fellow bros. At this point, nothing was too extreme for me. The fact that Nate was in it was enough reason to join, so we could hang out more like we used to. Plus, I could get to hang out with all my other bros and drink and party whenever we want.

“I’ve given it some thought, and yeah bro, I’ll join,” my voice slurred as my mouth moved before my mind could. I had committed at this point. No backing out now. I’m a member of Sigma Lambda Chi for life.

“Sweet, bro!” He grabbed me on my far shoulder and pulled me close. “I’m glad you said yes, because I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes, bro.”

I closed my eyes as Nate went into his room to grab something. Did I actually agree to join his frat? I’m not sure what’s going on with me today. When he came back, I felt Nate press on my head as his “surprise” fit tight around it. “You can open them now.”

I realized I was wearing the same hat that Nate always wore, with his frat’s letters printed on it. “We’re gonna be matching now, bro. Isn’t that awesome? I know you’re gonna want to wear it whenever and wherever. But you’re wearing it wrong. Let me fix it for you, dude.” He turned the brim around so it faced my back. As my hat turned backwards, I felt my mind fog up and any tension or brain activity screech to a halt. I was unable to realize what I signed myself up for, unable to protest. My conscious mind was drowned out by the alcohol and this hat was like a lock, sealing it away. Not that I was against this, as a wave of pleasure surged through me. I felt my mind slow down, almost as if it was stuck in molasses, as my thoughts began to simplify. It felt good though...

I would follow the example of my fellow brothers. Look like them, think like them, act like them. Almost like a hivemind of bros, you know, bro? By this point, the changes were irreversible. Nate had turned me into another frat bro just like him.

“Everything worked out as planned, bro. You see, when you, my own best bro, told me you didn’t want to join the frat with me, I was actually really hurt. So I talked to Brett, and had him “work his magic”, to help me do to you what he did to me. I don’t like to lie to you, but it’s a frat secret, so now you get to know bro. Like I said, it’s a secret, so don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“Don’t worry about it bro. It’s all…uh…

Fuck dude, what’s the word…water under the bridge? Huhuhu…” I really had to think about that one. I found it harder to articulate and use complex words, as I mainly just spoke in bro-speak. To be honest, I wasn’t really that upset that he lied to me. He did what he had to as a member of the frat. I never stayed mad at one of my bros for very long.

“Now we get to be brothers for life,” he said as he gave me a big bro hug. We clung to each other like two giant masses of muscle. My huge biceps wrapped around his firm back as his did for me. Afterwards, he handed me my fifth drink and we cheered to me joining Sigma Lambda Chi. He laid down all of the rules, what everything was like, telling me about the coolest guys there, and so on. He said he’d bring me to the frat house and introduce me to everyone tomorrow. “They’re gonna love you for sure, bro. I’ve got an eye for cool bros like you.”

As it got later, and we moved on to drink numero 6, I felt myself get very tired as we both passed out on his couch. I woke up a couple hours later, and I looked out the window to see a pitch black sky. Shit, it was almost 10 PM and I had to turn in my assignment at midnight. But for some reason, I didn’t really care right now. I didn’t mind turning in assignments late as long as the teacher still gave me credit. I felt no different from the way I was a couple hours ago, just another Sigma Lambda Chi frat bro, but I liked it. It felt right to me. It was where I, no, where we belonged.

I looked down. Nate’s tank hung tightly to me now. It took me a second to notice my arms…Holy shit, they were fucking huge! I looked awesome, bro. As I admired my new body, Nate was still asleep, his hand on my meaty thigh. Just above that, my dick throbbed through my pants. Fuck, I was so horny for some reason. Eventually, Nate slowly regained consciousness.

“I usually don’t drink this much on a school day,” Nate said, still a little hungover as he rubbed his eyes. We sat in silence for about a minute before he spoke again. “By the way, there was another reason I invited you over. There’s something that’s been on my chest for a while.”

“Go ahead, bro. I can take it,” I responded confidently. My voice sounded deeper and more bro-like than usual, just like him.

“Here goes, dude. I think I like you, bro. Not like you, but I think I like like you. I know it’s hella gay, but I couldn’t stand to see you be so cold to me. That’s why I had to make you a bro like me. I’m sure you’ll love it here, bro. And hey, if you’re not gay, that’s cool. We can forget this shit ever happened and go back to being bros for life.”

At first, I honestly thought I was still dreaming. First, he turned me into a frat boy, and now, he was confessing his feelings to me? How crazier could this night get? For all my life, I thought he was straight. I remembered being glad when he broke up with his girlfriend two years back. I couldn’t stand her. When he joined Sigma Lambda Chi, I assumed he was 100% straight and that he was banging some sorority chicks every night. To think he felt the same way I did all this time.

“Bro, I like you too. When you stopped talking to me, I started to get kinda jealous. I didn’t want to accept you for who you are. But being your bro just isn’t enough for me, bro.” I leaned in for a kiss, my inhibitions still nowhere to be found. It was my first kiss and it was with the person I cherished most. I felt like I was in heaven. I didn’t really care that I was a dumb frat bro like him anymore. I never did. That shit was stupid anyways. But now, Nate fixed our friendship and made us closer than ever. I loved the taste of his lips against mine and I didn’t want it to end but eventually Nate parted our lips.

“Wanna fuck me, bro?” he whispered in my ear. A flirtatious smirk was plastered on his face, and one of his hands was still wrapped around my neck. This was real. I nodded as he took me to his bed. I had never done this before, but I’ve seen plenty of porn, so I knew what to expect. He laid down on his back and stripped naked. I never felt this aroused before. My dick even looked bigger than it used to be. I was so pent up that I felt like I was holding this load in for months. I guess frat bros really are as horny as they say. I lubed up my larger cock before sticking it into Nate’s hole.

My serpent stretched out his tight hole as he had clearly not seen much action down there until now. I pounded his ass as my dick went in and out of him. In and out, in and out, in and out…It was a steady rhythm, my dick was like a metronome. My hands clung to him as I held him in place, pinning him to his bed. My hands ran all over his shoulders, broad and muscular, built like a football player’s. We both felt absolutely euphoric as our deep, masculine moans filled the room. The moans were loud enough that the students on the other side of the wall could easily hear them, but I didn’t care about any noise complaints as I fucked him harder and harder. After half an hour of fucking, he both hit our orgasm at almost exactly the same time. I ejaculated inside his tight hole, my hot, sticky seed flooding his insides as Nate came all over his abs. At this point I was exhausted and still hungover and I basically fell on top of him on his bed. We were both panting and out of breath.

“I knew you were a good fucker, bro.” he whispered seductively as he kissed me. We stayed in that position for several minutes until we heard the door open.

“Yo, Nate! Did you do it? How did it go?” a voice asked, shouting loudly from the other room. I recognized the voice as Brett’s. He peeked into the room, witnessing the two of us cuddling together naked. To be honest, I thought he would’ve been grossed out. Guess I had the wrong idea about him.

“Better than expected, dude,” Nate responded. He didn’t seem to care that we were both naked in front of his roommate and that we just got back from our trip to Pound Town.

“He looks way better this way, don’t you agree, bro? But man, dude, now I know why you wanted him to be a pledge so bad. I was wondering why you wouldn’t fuck any of those sexy sorority babes. More for me, I guess.”

A week passed and by then, I joined the frat officially. Me and Nate started dating shortly after, but none of our bros minded. It didn’t matter if we were gay, we were still brothers. I also learned how Nate met Brett. He was taking a tour of the campus over the summer and he ran into Brett who was recruiting people for the frat. Brett took a liking to him and kinda took him under his wing like some sort of mentor and they started hanging out since he only lived a town away from us. Brett was our age, but he had more seniority and authority because his older brother Brad was very popular within the frat. Turns out Brett and some of the upperclassmen knew how to turn guys into the ideal bros for their frat. They wanted to bolster their numbers to make Sigma Lambda Chi the biggest and coolest frat in the state, with the biggest bros and the biggest parties, and naturally both me and Nate were chosen. Not that either of us minded. Nate joined the football team with Brett and some other guys in the frat, and the rest of us would go watch them play every game. Our section of the stadium was always the loudest and rowdiest, especially when one of our bros scored a touchdown.

Apparently I grew a ton during the night that I was with Nate, but I was too drunk to notice just how massive I had become. It must’ve been something in the beer, huhu. I started working out with Nate and Brett, and sometimes some other bros too. I even ended up changing my major. I chose business because my bros said that it was the easiest shit ever and I wasn’t feeling psychology anymore. I didn’t really feel like thinking much anymore and I found that focusing on education so much was a chore and that I was wasting my college experience. I’d rather be partying and drinking or hanging out with the bros at the frat house, watching sports, playing video games, or playing ball outside. I got to see why Nate grew to enjoy this lifestyle so much, and I was mad at myself for not seeing his point of view sooner.

Three years later, me and Nate are still dating and we’re set to graduate this semester. We’re thinking about getting a place in the city not too far from campus, probably with Brett and another friend of ours to save money on rent. We’ll probably still throw parties every weekend like we used to. College was such a memorable experience and I wish I could live it again. I only have Nate, Brett, and all my other bros to thank for making college awesome for me.

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capseycartwright · 4 months ago

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can't ignore the crazy visions of me in la

Margarita-drunk Buck ruminates on how beautiful Eddie Diaz is while his best friend is dancing to Chappell Roan. That's what LA pride is for, right? - or, alternatively: Eddie spends his first pride as an out queer man in a gay club, and Buck is in love with him about it.

written for week one of @summerofbuddie- mixed media. the mixed media part of this fic is eddie's big gay playlist, and is full of what i believe to be all of eddie's favourite queer music. pls enjoy.

ao3 link

Buck had always thought that Eddie was beautiful. He knew how that sounded – but even when he had thought he was straight, Buck had always felt quite comfortable in his masculinity. Men were beautiful. Okay, sure, with the benefit of hindsight, it was long-buried bisexuality threatening to burst to the surface, but the point stood: Eddie Diaz had always been beautiful to Buck.

Physically, yes, he was beautiful. He had these big brown eyes that had always been incredibly effective at getting Buck to do all the things Eddie didn’t want to do – small things, like driving (of course, because Eddie was a passenger princess at heart, and Buck was more than happy to indulge), and cooking, until Eddie had begun to find a love for that himself, and the bigger things too, like agreeing to be Eddie’s medical proxy, and being Christopher’s guardian in case – well, Buck didn’t like to articulate the rest of that one. It felt like jinxing it, so he always left it at ‘in case’ – nothing else needed to be said.

Eddie was physically beautiful – he had the softest brown hair Buck had ever come across, and a sweet grin that got him more than his fair share of attention on calls, and firefighting had packed on a lot of muscle over the years, so maybe he wasn’t the proud owner of an eight-pack, anymore, but Eddie’s body was strong, and capable, and Buck felt that was beautiful too.

Eddie was gorgeous, was the thing – but he wasn’t just physically beautiful. Eddie Diaz had a really beautiful personality, too. It had taken a while for him to allow Buck to get to know it – and not just Buck, for everyone else, too – but when Eddie had decided to let people in, and see who he truly was, underneath the somewhat gruff exterior, there has been so much beauty there. Eddie was kind, kind in a way that Buck could only admire, genuine in his kindness. Buck could see where Christopher got it from.

Eddie was gentle, too. Buck knew most people would doubt that, given the life Eddie led – an army veteran with a penchant for street fighting and Muay Thai – but Buck knew better. Those were all circumstances, responses to a life filled with trauma, and underneath all of that, Eddie was the gentlest person he knew. Eddie would always be the one who carefully picked up spiders, and bees, if they found their way into the firehouse, or Buck’s apartment, or his own home, and he’d coo gently as he brought them to the window, setting them free before anyone (Buck, usually) could hit them with a stray hardback novel. Eddie liked to garden, a collection of brightly coloured flowers growing in the front bed right outside his porch, Eddie humming to himself as he watered them, the image one Buck hoped would be seared into his memory forever.

Eddie was gentle with Christopher. Buck hadn’t exactly grown up with a father he aspired to be like – Philip had been cold, and distant, and though Buck understood why now, he would never forgive it. Eddie had been through his fair share of heartbreak, and trauma, and yet he still raised Christopher with a gentle hand, guiding his son through life in a way Buck had never experienced himself. He was glad to be able to watch it, though, watch as Eddie learned from his own mistakes, and apologised to Chris, and did better for his son every day.

Eddie was gentle with Buck.

Buck was a lot, he knew – he was loud, and talkative, and the undiagnosed ADHD he definitely had made it so both of those qualities were amplified when he was stressed, or anxious, which was frankly, a lot of the time. Buck knew he earned his eyerolls and exasperated looks – but never from Eddie. Eddie always listened, attentive and eager to learn as Buck went off on tangent about the latest fun thing he learned. Eddie was the first to suggest a gym session, when he knew Buck was antsier than normal, suggesting they work off some of his nervous energy before their next call.

Eddie had been there after the truck bombing, gentle as he had torn down Buck’s already shaky walls, gentle as he helped Buck in, and out of bed, gentle as he’d helped him shower, shrugging off Buck’s thanks with a ‘you’d do the same for me’ and a smile.

(Buck would do the same for Eddie – he would do anything for Eddie.)

Eddie was beautiful. Eddie was beautiful when he smiled, when he laughed, Eddie was beautiful in every single conceivable way to Buck –

But this might be the most beautiful Buck had ever seen his best friend.

read the rest on ao3

#911 #buddie #buck x eddie #911fic #in which i ramble #in which lorna writes fic #i can't believe i actually wrote a fic #i mean theres no plot but pls enjoy

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adropofelixir · 5 months ago

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ｓｏｆｔｃｏｎｆｅｓｓｉｏｎ - ｗａｎｄａｍａｘｉｍｏｆｆ

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨): wanda maximoff x fem! reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: when sexuality starts to become something in the forefront of your mind, you can’t help but start to shut everyone out. nobody knows what’s going on with you, but a specific telekinetic woman finds the perfect way to get you to open up to her.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: internalized homophobia, avengers compound/civil war! era, hallway crush vibes, reader not really knowing wanda all that well at first, wlw!au, wanda being perfect, i think that’s it?

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: nice to meet you, i’m lea! since this is my first fic it won’t be perfect, but i’ll get better as time goes on! this is super fluffy… and gay. i hope you all enjoy, happy (ending) pride month!!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

everything about you recently had felt off. nothing was right. waking up felt like you were out of place, your insomnia was out of the roof, you were only eating your safe foods for the past few weeks. all the avengers could tell there was something bothering you.

tony had tried first. saying some words along the lines of, “cmon, kid. you can talk to me — you won’t be shut out.” although his attempt was nice, and oddly caring for the stark man, you didn’t budge. thor and bucky hadn’t really been the best at speaking to girls your age, so they didn’t really attempt much.

next was peter and natasha, they had teamed up to see if they could get you to crack. the two had purchased a large pizza and your favorite sweets in an attempt to see how much they could get out of you; long story short, it didn’t work. you just took the food, thanked them for going out of their way for you, and excused yourself to bed for the night.

cap was last to try. he had been the one person who seemed to get through to you every single time you were acting weird. this time however, he had never seen you so puzzled. after trying for about an hour of poking and prodding to get even an inch of what was on your mind to come to your surface, you practically pushed him out of the room asking for peace and quiet.

ever since you turned 18, everything about love had been on your mind. there was no doubting that you were envious of your friends that were in healthy, happy relationships. hell, some of the people you went to high school with were getting engaged already. however, every single post that you happened to scroll past on social media, you couldn’t help but feel yourself cringe a little bit.

seeing your friends happy, and other happy, made your heart flutter. that was no secret, but when you stared at the pairs of man and wife, or girlfriend and boyfriend, your heart banged with confusion as to why it didn’t feel right to you. that was, until you went on a coffee run.

walking into the small coffee shop that had become your recent hyperfixation, you noticed two women in the corner. there was something different about this pair. they were closer than just friends seemed to be, they were holding hands, the shorter blonde leaning her head against the taller ginger. you were captivated by them, they were fucking 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮. then, as if the universe was watching you searching for answers, the two girls’ lips connected.

your heart fluttered and your eyes suddenly went a bit wide with awe. everything about the image in front of you felt so right. it was everything that you had been craving, all of the confusion about seeing the straight couples had fizzled away from your mind. it all made fucking sense. you liked women, there was no denying that, but how would you be accepted knowing everyone around you was always asking when you were going to get a boyfriend?

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

ever since that trip to the coffee shop and seeing the lesbian couple, your mind had been running circles every second of every minute. you had tried your best to avoid everyone, being conflicted with yourself and wondering if it was just a phase or if you could change your feelings for something so trivial.

it was 1am, and you hadn’t gotten an inch of sleep. you were laying on your bed with your phone in your hand, scrolling on google at photos of lesbian relationships. there was a knock at your door, suddenly jolting you away from your obvious daze. shutting off your phone, you got off your bed and cracked the door open to see who could possibly need you at this time of night.

staring back at you was the quiet sokovian, with her brows slightly taut with worry. “wanda?” you had spoken, your voice a little broken from not speaking much the past few days. you cleared your throat as she offered you a small smile. her accent slipping through her pink lips as she spoke, “i wanted to check on you. i-i know we don’t know each other hardly at all but, you’ve seemed like you need some company.”

her voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. you tilted your head as you studied her for a few moments, debating on whether you should allow her to try and pick your brain, assuming that she’s going to be talking to a wall like the rest have. noticing you’ve been taking a while, you open the door just enough and step aside for her body to fit through before shutting the door once again.

“i know talking about your life isn’t easy, so i won’t push,” she starts off as she takes in your room, before gesturing to the trinkets you’ve made and the fully finished rubix cube that sits on your bedside table. “these are cool, did you make them all?” you looked over at them and hummed softly before nodding your head in agreement. “yeah, yeah i did.”

she hums as she spares you a slightly bigger smile than she had outside your door just minutes prior. “did one of them… tell you to come talk to me?” you couldn’t help but ask, you were mutual with each avenger but there were a handful of them that didn’t spare you more than small talk if you happened to run into each other.

her brows furrow slightly before she meets your eyes. “no, not at all. i’ve actually been worried about you myself. a very bright soul that’s comfortable around everyone in this building suddenly became a bit too quiet. i wanted to make sure you didn’t need help with something.” her words were swirling in your ears as she spoke them, her voice taking over you as if it was made of vanilla.

you contemplated for another moment, feeling a weight heavy on your chest as you thought about everything that you had been feeling the past few weeks. letting out a sigh, you took a seat on your messy bed. “i guess, there is… something, that’s been on my mind lately.”

wanda nodded as she took in your posture, before deciding to take a seat next to you on your bed while also keeping enough space for you to not feel suffocated by her presence. you didn’t know why she was the one you had chosen to share your problems with, you barely know the girl. but something about her made you feel like you could trust her with this information.

she eyed you curiously as you struggled to find the words, eventually giving up and deciding just to speak from your mind. “i’ve been having…. feelings lately. they’re different than normal feelings, you could say. all of my friends are, getting married and in really healthy relationships, which is great for them but, that’s not my issue..” you trailed off as you started to get nervous knowing you were just about to come out for the first time.

wanda placed her hand over yours softly, reminding you that she’s listening and that it’s okay. your heart did a somersault at the feeling of her skin against yours, and your stomach erupted in butterflies. all be damned, you realized why you had started feeling this way. what made you question in the first place.

you stared at her for a moment before you started again, “i went down to the coffee shop at the end of the street that i really like, and there was this couple. they were gay, two girls, and they were addicting to look at. i never felt happy staring at a couple until that moment and i…. i think it’s because i’m lesbian.” you looked down, not knowing what sort of reaction to prepare for.

she squeezed your hand softly, a small smile forming on her lips as she chuckled. “that’s okay, i’m gay too. i like girls just like you do, and i didn’t understand why i couldn’t be in love with vision like he is with me, until you came around.” your eyes blew wide at her statement before staring at her once again.

“me? why me?” you were confused. you weren’t anything special, at least not that you knew of. she smiled even wider. “from the second i saw you i was attracted to you. your energy felt good, every time i was near you i could feel you in my veins and it was like magic. not to mention, you’re pretty hot too.” you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

you bit your lip nervously as you contemplated before thinking to yourself, fuck it. “i started questioning because of you too.” you squeezed her hand back this time and smiled softly at her, both of your voices were only audible to each other. her smile spread even wider as she looked at you.

“it’s okay to feel this way. it’s not out of ordinary either, so don’t say you’re not normal. don’t worry about everyone else either, if you don’t wanna tell them, it’s none of their business. this stays between you and i, okay?” she tilted her head at you as you processed the delicate reassurance.

you let out a breath of relief. “t-thank you, wanda. it means a lot that you let me talk to you.” she scrunches her nose before quietly speaking again, “you’re welcome.” she delivered a kiss to your cheek, which prompted yours to turn pink.

she got up from your bed beside you and walked towards your door, looking at you one last time for the night. “see you in the morning, y/n.” she smiled at you and departed your room, leaving you to your own feelings. you touched your cheek and could feel all kinds of adrenaline rush through your veins. what was she doing to you?

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧’𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: thank you all for reading! i was just blotting words on the screen at 3 am but i hope it was a least a little enjoyable. as i get back into writing again i’ll have better ideas, but i thought this was a decent start. i love you all! <3

#fanfic #marvel #wanda maximoff #wlw #pride month #writing

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 10 months ago

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01/15/2024 Crew Recap

Hey all, today has been a very very very long day. I’m typing this with my eyeballs glazed over and half open. However, so much has happened in such a little amount of time I wanted share a few things before I pass out I know a lot of you are in different timezones, are busy with life, and taking a break, so maybe this will help with parsing through some of the crazy stuff the crew has been up to.

The petition hit 50K, and is at 52.5K at the moment

Fundraisers: I didn’t even realize there were two different fundraisers for Palestine/Gaza going on but we blew both out of the water. (Note: the second picture is from a November campaign but I think its just as important to highlight— ty for the correction anon!)

The Emmys hashtag turn out was great tonight. There was some pretty amazing and creative stuff going on across all the platforms. Some can be seen on IG, but if you wanna see the majority of it, check out twitter #SaveOFMD #75thEmmys

---We have new ways of protesting and advocating for our show, see here for the thread on tumblr (from twitter):---

And to support that @saltpepperbeard was kind enough to put together a wonderful guide on how to Call It Through as a Crew: Alleviating Some Phone Anxiety which as someone who is socially anxious and sometimes verbally vomits on people when on the phone, is AMAZING and thank you so much for doing that to help.

-- > There is also this new thread on some new places to call into. Don't quote me on that being an official thing we should do, I'm sure @renewasacrew and others will have more in the AM, I just wanted to share it so people could follow if they wanted to.

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New Articles!

Our Flag Means Death: Here’s why season three deserves to be aired

Petition to save BBC show with rare Rotten Tomatoes score gets 50,000 signatures

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There's so much more that's happened today-- but I can't write it all down because my brain is couscous.

<---So instead, I'm going to use this last part to gush over you all and your amazing contributions in all your unique ways. The community support the last few days has been SO INCREDIBLY UPLIFTING.-->

I saw (and experienced) people reblogging asks where random followers, anons, and mutuals just reached out and sent love because they could tell people were struggling.

I've seen comments all over the place on Tumblr, IG, Twitter, and Facebook where each and every person is encouraging each other to speak their mind, or complimenting their artwork, encouraging them if they were feeling uncomfortable with things outside their comfort zones, coming up with new and exciting ways to fight back, people reaching out to the cast/crew just to say hi and remind them we love them.

I've seen Self-Care checkpoints all over, reminding people to drink water, take a break, block your notifications for a while, not engaging in negative behavior.

I've seen people being so nice on instagram posts that the people who were being dicks about all our comments turned around and decided to watch OFMD!

I saw so many people doing new analysis of scenes and characters, and having really deep and friendly discussions that make everyone think in new ways.

I saw people digging through old tumblrs to bring life back to old posts and artwork.

I saw so much NEW artwork, new FICS! New GIFS! So much new art and love!

I could literally go on and on, but I've just...I had to dump this out of my brain otherwise I'd explode. I've just seen so much today that continues to make me so proud of our little safe space ship and so happy to be apart of this community.

You all continue to be the best of the best of humans, and I am so very grateful to get to witness and be apart of it. Rest up lovelies and have a good day / night, wherever you may be. May you dream of sexy middle-aged gay men kissing, or hugging, or whatever else you want them to be getting into.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #renew as a crew #rhys darby #blackbonnet #save our flag means death #save ofmd #ofmd s3 #renew our flag means death #renew ofmd #ofmd daily recap

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gothamite-rambler · 16 days ago

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Bruce supporting Tim's bisexuality by setting him up on dates... he doesn't want this type support

Batman (pulling out a notepad): All right, let's go through the list.

Red Robin (sighing with annoyance): I don’t want to do this while we’re patrolling.

Batman (supportive): It’s a slow night. You’re my son, and I want to help you find a possible partner since you’ve come out of the closet, even though I knew for years. To start, Bart Allen, Impulse?

Red Robin (playing along): Not gay.

Batman: Jamie Reyes, Blue Beetle?

Red Robin (shaking his head): Not my type.

Batman (understanding): Okay, fair. M'gann M'orzz, Miss Martian?

Red Robin: Not my type.

Batman: I get that. Aqualad?

Red Robin (shaking his head with smile): Not. Into. Men.

Red Robin chuckled, admiring Batman for trying, even if it seemed he just wrote down all the members of the Teen Titans.

Red Robin: B, are you assuming everyone in the Titans is lgbtq?

Batman: Sexuality is a spectrum, but also you're a handsome man, they would be crazy not to want to be with you.

Red Robin (mumbling): I'm glad the comms aren't on right now. You have three more left.

Batman: Kon—how did he get on the list?

Red Robin: Didn’t work out?

Batman (shocked): What?

Red Robin (hesitation): Yeah, we… did fun stuff when I was exploring my sexuality. Dated for a while. I can admit now that it definitely was not just that one picture on Twitter.

Batman calmly flipped the page of his notepad to jot down a reminder.

Batman: Send Konnor kryptonite.

Red Robin: Don’t.

Batman: I’m thinking about it. Who broke up with whom?

Red Robin: I dumped him.

Batman: See, I knew you were raised right.

Red Robin (shaking his head with a smile): Let’s get through the rest of this list.

Batman: Let me see. Cassie Sandsmark, Wonder Girl?

Red Robin: Hmm... Maybe.

Batman: All right, we’re off to a good start. I’ll get in touch with Diana tomorrow to see if we can set up a date. But remember, we’re going to explore those male options too, as long as they’re not Konnor Kent.

Batman patted Red Robin on the back as the young man groaned, covering his face with his hand in embarrassment.

Red Robin: I… okay. Can we patrol already?

Batman: Yes! If we see anyone your age, you’re free to... Do people still ask each other out face-to-face?

Red Robin: Yes… I will not be doing that in my suit.

Batman: Apparently, it’ll work out for you because you ranked number 10 on hottest heroes... Don’t know how I didn’t make that list.

Red Robin (happy): Really? Focus!

Red Robin used his grappling hook to descend the building, focusing on patrolling rather than finding a possible boyfriend or girlfriend. Still, he admired Batman for doing the best he could.

Batman: Hold on, we have to work on your icebreakers!

Tim: Give it a rest!

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henry-fox-biggest-stan · 1 year ago

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Can I talk about how much I love the fact than Nico is in a happy, healthy, long-term relationship, but than also, he had a crush before, for years, than just didn’t work out, and these facts coexist?

Because Nico, as a queer character from a children’s book, is incredibly important. Hundreds of people (like myself, for example) saw themselves for the first time on Nico. He was the first character like them they met, the first one than made them realize than people like them also belonged on books, and than they could find friends and people who would accept them.

I hate the fact than when it comes to lgbt representation, it’s either “the first same sex crush this person had completely worked out and they began to date and they married and had three children and four dogs together” or “this character has no comfort at all in all the story, they had a crush than could never work out because they’re gay and their crush is normal straight and their crush will live happily ever after in a relationship and they’ll end up alone and/or dead.”

There’s no variety. I loved how Nico showed a young gay person having a crush (at 10 years old to around 13) and that crush being unrequited, and that being sad, but having another crush in the future (gay people can have crushes on different people at different times, gasp. Maybe it’s just me but I don’t really see it a lot on media, it’s always the first love than gets shown) than do works out, and he is happy and in a long term, healthy relationship.

That is realistic.

Nico is a tragic character, but he doesn’t have a tragic ending. Usually when a queer character is tragic, they also has a tragic ending. Nico doesn’t. He went through a lot of shit, and he had romantic feelings where nothing came out of them, and still, it didn’t stop him from finding love. His partner was just waiting for him in the future, he just had to wait a bit.

I love it because it shows hope. Who’s first crush (specially same-sex crush) worked and still are in a long-term relationship? That’s really hard to achieve, given than the first crush usually happens when you’re a young teenager. Nico is realistic when it comes to relationships. He shows than the first person you fall for isn’t usually who you’ll be with in the future, they are not the love of your life, maybe they would never ever date you, and that’s fine. Just because your first love didn’t work out doesn’t mean you won’t find love at all.

#tsats #nico di angelo #will solace #that’s why solangelo is better than pernico /j #solangelo #hoo

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canonizzyhours · 11 months ago

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What nobody wants to admit is there’s a reason OFMD fandom has a big divide over how to interpret Izzy and it’s simply that Con is playing against the scripts.

Con DOES play Izzy like he and Ed have a profound warrior’s bond and their relationship was actually a positive thing up until Stede appeared and Izzy’s jealousy made him briefly go a little bit insane, but once he recognized that Ed truly needed to be with Stede to be happy Izzy was able to let go because his love for Ed is genuinely selfless. People who see that in Con’s performance aren’t wrong.

However this makes no sense as an interpretation of the actual STORY. The scripts write Izzy as someone whose “love” for Ed has been selfish and controlling and abusive (in ways that, yes, echo Ed’s relationship with his father) since long before Stede was in the picture, and is mostly based in the fact that he craves power and manipulating Ed is how he achieves and maintains a position of power – plus the whole deal has this creepy undercurrent of psychosexual obsession. This was obvious back in season one but there’s zero remaining ambiguity about it at this point now that the show literally had Izzy tell Ed “I’ve been terrible to you for years” and “it was me who needed Blackbeard.”

The way he’s written, Izzy has to let go of both his ambition for power AND his fucked up crush entirely before he can stop obsessively trying to control Ed’s life and be normal enough about him to start building an even remotely healthy relationship, which the two of them never had before. Both djenks and other writers have said this in interviews - what Izzy needed was not to realize Stede was good for Ed, it was to let go of his obsession with controlling his boss’ love life entirely before he even COULD realize that.

This contradiction isn’t Con’s fault, or really anyone’s. If you’re an actor it’s your job to come up with headcanons that make sense of your character’s motivations even if they’re not super clear in the scripts, and the scripts do not focus all that much on Izzy’s internal motivations. (It’s clear from his interviews that he got only vague high-level overviews from the writing team about their intentions for Izzy’s overall arc too, which is normal for a supporting character - not only has he mentioned scenes where he struggled to figure out the motivation on his own, he didn’t even know the show was gay for four episodes, meaning the writers and directors didn’t tell him about Izzy’s gay crush on Ed, the thing he plays as Izzy’s core motivation!) And it’s usually a good idea as an actor to come up with an interpretation that lets you sympathize with your character. So Con went with the most sympathetic read of Izzy he could come up with. It doesn’t make sense of the overall narrative arc of the show, but that’s not his job, his job is figuring out a motivation that gives him a foundation for feeling like he understands Izzy’s perspective in the scenes he’s playing.

So if you pay the most attention to Con’s performances and ignore the narrative framing of the scripts, you end up with basically the canyon read on Izzy’s character. If you pay the most attention to the story the scripts suggest and mostly ignore the performance, you end up with the non-canyon one where Izzy’s a really really bad guy up till s2e5 and he’s manipulative and emotionally abusive toward Ed. Neither one of those is really “canon Izzy.” They’re both present in canon and they directly contradict each other.

This is what led to the fandom getting incredibly weird. Because people most interested in Con’s performance take it as the primary lens through which they interpret the whole show - but it’s an interpretation that fundamentally cannot make sense of the story as a cohesive whole, so they keep running into cognitive dissonance, and they try to resolve it by coming up with increasingly contorted interpretations of the entire narrative arc of the show (including parts that aren’t even directly about Izzy) and getting angry when other people bring back the cognitive dissonance by pointing out how nonsensical those interpretations are.

People who prioritize the scripts as their main interpretive lens don’t have quite the same problem, because if they notice what’s going on in Con’s performance there’s an easy way to integrate it: assume that the way Con acts is expressing Izzy’s own point of view, BUT IZZY IS WRONG ABOUT ALL THAT. Izzy THINKS he really understands Ed but he doesn’t. Izzy THINKS his feelings for Ed are selfless love but a lot of abusers think that, it’s him lying to himself about his motives being benevolent. And the thing is, this angle makes Izzy look REALLY FASCINATING but also WAY WORSE than the basic read where he’s just being selfish, it turns him from an ambitious manipulative schemer with a weird little crush into a horrific obsessed stalker with a creepy daddy-knows-what’s-best-for-you complex about Ed, a grown-ass indigenous man who never asked his white employee to control his life “for his own good.”

It’s no wonder everyone’s fighting all the time.

#88.

#ofmd #izzy hands #con o'neill

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mediumgayitalian · 8 months ago

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fic rec friday 10

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

something borrowed by @rosyredlipstick

In the Solace Wedding Planning agenda, on the fifth page into their summer schedule, there are carefully scrawled out notes reading this: Bride and Groom - Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang Best Man & Maid of Honor - Percy Jackson & Piper McLean Wedding Court - Annabeth Chase & Jason Grace Mellie & Gleeson Hedge Reyna Ramírez-Arellano & Leo Valdez Ring-bearer - Chuck Hedge Flower-boy - Nico di Angelo - Will plans wedding and now, apparently, Nico stars in one. Except...sometimes there's a bit more confusion on that last part. AKA the AU where Will plans weddings and thinks Hazel and Frank are going to have to cutest, gap-toothed ten year throwing flowers down the aisle, all while wondering why this 'Neeks' guy is always hanging around, and what business he has looking that good.

yes i am back on my rosyredlipstick (dude she's GOOD okay). however this one is my favourite i think. this is the kinda story you could use to explain to people what dramatic irony is bc LORD i wanted to SHAKE THEM 😭😭 will falling like deeply in love with nico and being intensely stressed about everything the whole time is so real and on brand. i love him and i love the fond exasperation that just bleeds from this fic its GREAT

2. Rental Love by @rosyredlipstick

*Read Terms & Conditions - Male/22/Long Island N.Y.C. Tired of showing up stag at holiday events? Want your family to stop thinking there’s something wrong with you? Just want some arm candy for a work event? Look no further. Your solution is here! I will attend holiday events with you as your paid date. Accepting all genders as applicants. Email [email protected] if interested. Interview & application will be set up there. - Nico di Angelo has been telling Hazel Levesque about his boyfriend for weeks. The bad part? Nico doesn’t have a boyfriend, the holidays are coming up, and not all of Jason’s ideas are horrible. They’re all a bit surprised about the last one.

THE LEVEL OF STUPID THAT THEY ARE...😭😭 kills me fr. like this whole fic is just a manifestation of truly one of the best tropes of all time…..like what if we took a hallmark movie and made it gay as all hell. iconique indeed

3. A Match in the Making by @coconutcranberries-blog

“You’re a morning person,” Nico muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He ran a hand through his black hair, which stuck up in disarray, the same way it did every morning. He was a mess, and Will Solace looked annoyingly put together, and Nico didn’t even care, really, he didn’t.

friendship is the core of romance!! it is!! every time!!! and it's such a core in this fic....which is fucking??? ten years old??? im just realising?? jesus christ??? anyways. "Nico had the sudden, warm feeling that Will Solace had never bought his act." i YELLED

4. Perception by scorchedtrees

In which everyone thinks Nico and Will are together.

i love this trope i love it SO BAD. both ways. when your love is so obvious that no one misses it.....love to see it truly. and will can have one second of beingn smooth and not a dweeby loser. as a treat

5. the world is brighter than the sun now that you're here by @finalizer

It was hard, Nico eventually concluded, to maintain one’s air of spooky otherworldly detachment with a blinding ray of sunshine trailing one step behind him every minute of every day.

grouchy nico my beloved truly. honestly hes such a bitch i love him like "Seriously, give the guy a perm and a few cats and he’d be that weird aunt that everybody avoided around the holiday season." why does he ALWAYS have something vile to say 😭😭 hes a mood fr

thank you for joining me this saturday friday!! happy reading!!

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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wibta if i went behind my dad’s back and contacted my disowned brother?

so i (23m) had an older brother we’ll call J. i have quite vague memories of him, going to visit him at his house, him giving me gifts. i still have two gifts i got from him as a very little kid - a little disco ball that lights up your room with coloured lights, and a similar little nightlight thing that changes colours and looks like a firework. he got them for me because i was terrified of the dark.

i don’t remember him being disowned. i didn’t find out why until years later. i knew he was gay, and that my dad was massively homophobic back then (he accepts me being gay, but he still makes stupid comments about it, and he does Not like me being trans) so it was kinda implied to me that he was disowned for being gay especially because i was told about massive fights they’d had about it

when i was a little older i found out he’d been addicted to drugs. unsure what kind but it was pretty serious and he was getting into trouble with dealers in our area so he had to keep skipping town. eventually he developed drug-induced psychosis. the way my dad tells it he became convinced that people were hunting him down to kill him, that he was an important figure in some underground crime ring and he owned half the town, that the government was silencing him because they were scared of him etc it was causing some severe problems

he did go through psychiatric facilities a few times but nothing seemed to help him, he wouldn’t take medication, he didn’t want help. my dad eventually cut him off because in his words he couldn’t take it anymore, and my brother essentially disappeared from my life.

he reappeared in a way twice since then. when i was about 9 i got a phone call and i just remember him saying “[name]? it’s J. your brother” and i was so shocked and happy, passed the phone to my parents and him and my dad briefly reconnected and went out to lunch together a few times. however it didn’t seem to last long and my dad froze him out again, never said why.

then when i was about 13 he contacted me on facebook. it was under a fake name because since he left he’s changed his identity like a jillion times (which is why it’s hard to find him) because presumably he’s still running into issues with the law. he asked me how my dad was treating me and i can’t really remember what i said but i was probably pretty honest, at the time my dad was enormously abusive both verbally and physically and was for most of my childhood (not anymore). he said some weird things like that he’d always protect me, our dad was scared of him because he could beat him up, if i ever needed help just tell him and he’d “deal with” dad for me, etc. next thing i know cops are at my house saying they got a report i was being abused and they needed to ask some questions, but my mum was hovering over my shoulder the entire time and i was scared to get my dad in trouble so i froze up and said it wasn’t true and they left. after that my dad called my brother and basically told him to never come back and to never contact me again.

and he hasn’t. it’s been a decade since the last time i heard from him. for the most part i haven’t thought much about it, but for the last few months i’ve had constant dreams about him. it tears me up not knowing if he’s okay, if he still cares about me, if he Wants to come back and he’s just waiting for my dad to be gone, if he’s in love or married, if he’s gotten clean and medicated, if hes worse, i don’t know Anything. i’ve tried to find him as best i can, but because hes changed his name and i know nothing about where he lives or even solidly how old he is anymore i can’t even begin properly. i know my sisters are up for finding him too and have made posts on websites about reconnecting with relatives etc but with no luck. all the numbers i had for him are disconnected. i don’t even know what he looks like.

i asked my dad if he has any pictures of him, because i Know hes showed me some before, and he blew up at me. he said that J is violent and dangerous and that he doesn’t ever want to hear about me contacting him because it’s not fair to bring him back into his life (which is fair but also he’s become somewhat Toxic Self-Care the last few years like he literally let me become briefly homeless even though he is a landlord with empty houses because “helping you would stress me out i’m looking after myself” like sir WHAT) so i’ve never mentioned it to him again.

but i just. want to know how my brother is so bad. i think all the time about how different it could’ve been to grow up with a gay brother as a gay kid! to grow up with someone dealing with mental health when i started to and didn’t know what to do! to have someone understand my dad abusing me! to have someone who wanted to protect me!

part of me is scared of him showing up because i’m getting told about how violent he is and how he hates people so intensely for nothing and how far he’ll go to hurt them. but part of me is like - i don’t know how much of that is true! you guys originally told me he was cut off for being gay!

i’ve been doing little things like making all of my facebook posts public instead of friends only so if he’s looking he can see how i’m doing and what i look like. my family thinks he does look because sometimes they’ll get anonymous messages like after my parents divorced my mum would get messages acknowledging it and asking how she was doing and why it happened and she very strongly felt it was J kind of angling for Dirt On Dad™️. my dad thinks he reacted to one of his posts with an emoji once? it was like a laughing emoji on one of my dad’s wedding pictures LMAO so dude definitely still hates my dad.

but idk like. i’m not hidden yknow. he could’ve reached out. but maybe he thinks he’s not wanted because of my dad being there. raaargh.

i’ve been thinking about taking a dna test and seeing if he shows up. if he’s in the legal system he should be right?? but i don’t know how much that will help me with figuring out where he is now. like do i just. wait for my dad to pass away before i try to avoid crossing his boundaries 😭 he’s 73

tl;dr wibta if i went behind my dad’s back to try to find my potentially dangerous brother who seems to really want to put my dad in a paper shredder

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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wormdebut · 2 years ago

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The universe expands. Part One | Part Three | Part Four

The Daily Grind was Wayne’s baby and Eddie had spent many an evening in the industrial lobby as he got used to living with his uncle at age thirteen. Somewhere over the years, Saturday nights became open mic nights and Eddie would usually just drag out his acoustic, but occasionally his buddy from school, Gareth would join him and bang on whatever planted pot he could pull onto the little corner platform until he finally got a cajon.

Wayne had thrown him an apron at sixteen and he’d been working at the shop ever since. He wasn’t entirely sure how he had been roped into running the whole damn thing by 23 but here he was, and Wayne was somewhere in Indiana opening a fourth location, Eddie was happy for his uncle he really was, but he didn’t have a shred of patience for a customer who was out of line.

Yell at him? Sure, Eddie was a loud (both verbally and aesthetically) kinsey six gay man, that stood at 6’2 (without his boots, thank you) with a penchant for attention of any form; but yell at any of his coffee kiddos? You’ve got another thing comin’ Brenda. No one speaks to his little beans that way, especially not the smallest. Erica Sinclair, sure as hell could handle herself but Eddie was also rearing for an opportunity to kick someone the fuck out of his hallowed little coffee shop, specifically ‘medium single shot soy cappuccino absolutely no foam—no I don’t want a latte you dumbass can you hear correctly from down there’ Brenda.

Eddie had heard the woman from the backroom while he was dolling out pastries from the freezer. She was that fucking shrill, he was already rearing up, as Dustin popped his shocked head back through the door, “Um, Eddie?”

“Yeah Henderson, I heard it I’m on my way.” Eddie threw his long hair up in a messy bun on top of his head, having had taken it down while he was alone in the back and marched straight out to the lobby. God dammit, Brenda it was 7am and there were other guests to serve, “Brenda Brenda Brenda.” He shove his way between Erica and the counter top that Brenda was grossly leaning over to try and get into her face, and shut her up good and quick with a displeased stare that would scare the biggest of the bads.

“We’ve been over this sweetheart, I gave you one last chance, one,” he threw his finger up at her both to illustrate his point and cut off her response, “I’ve been making you your bullshit cappuccino for two years darling, and you know my kids are trained by me. They make the thing better then I do, and—nope I’m talking,” he cut her off again as she made to fight back. Eddie wasn’t looking anywhere but at this bitch of a women, however he knew there were people crowding in the lobby now. He didn’t care, “you can come at me all you want, but you will not ever speak to my staff that way. Get the fuck out and do not come back.”

Brenda huffed in exasperation, “I want the manager, Edward!”

Eddie’s laugh in that moment was pointed as he looked at Erica tucked behind his back and Dustin making drinks dutifully but watching from his side view, “Did you hear that squad? She’s wants the manager!” He snapped his gaze back to the angry ugly little stout woman in front of him, “I’ll do you one better, babe,” He sneered at here, “My names Eddie and I own the place,” Wayne would forgive him, “Get. The Fuck. Out.”

Brenda huffed as she turned on her stubby little heel, “I’m calling the city board!” She yelled as the crowd of coffee customers applauded her exit. Eddie laughed under his breath at that, Chicago didn’t give a shit about a bitch and her coffee vendettas.

“You good E?” He turned to his coworker and she looked up at him with her hands on her hips.

“You know I had it handled right?” He nodded, told her of course she did, but it never hurts to have support, and she kept up her confidence but muttered a quiet “Thanks Eddie”, as she turned around and joined Dustin on the second machine.

“Sorry about that guys, who’s next?” Eddie flashed a thousand watt smiled and whipped through the lobby of guests. Max was due in any second so he knew they would get the early morning rush cleared out fairly quickly regardless of the ridiculous interruption.

Eddie’s smile brightened at a duo he knew he hadn’t met yet, the lanky girl looked nice sure but damn he would’ve remember a boy that looked like this one, “Well hello Gorgeous.”

The boy who had a head of hair that truly rivaled Eddie’s own, and freckles splashed across his cheeks, flushed red and oh, Eddie wanted to devour him. His big brown eyes widened at Eddie’s forwardness and immediatley dropped to the floor. Eddie couldn’t hide the playful smirk on his face. The girl couldn’t help but let out a laugh, whether it was in solidarity or out of awkward tension Eddie couldn’t tell.

“I’m Robin and this is,” she gestures at the blushing mess of the boy that still had his eyes trained to the floor, “well this is just embarrassing, but he goes by Steve.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure. My apologies for the shit show earlier, why don’t I get you guys whatever on me yeah?”

Eddie was a sucker for a pretty boy, and he could tell they were both good people. She basically dragged Steve with her as they waited for their iced oat milk lavender lattes. (Eddie swears by them.) Eddie made sure to deliver them directly to the two and shy boy Steve managed a soft smile and a breathy “Thanks” and Eddie wanted to bite him, dammit. “

Bye, new friends have a safe day wherever your headed!” Eddie flashed them a grin and a wave as they left the shop, just as a flash of red hair zoomed past them.

“What did I miss, besties?” Max asked as she tied her fiery hair up in a messy bun to match Eddie’s.

“Oh you know,” Dustin spoke from the espresso machine, “Eddie kicked out ‘No Foam Cappuccino Brenda’, pulled the “I am the manager” card to defend Erica and I’m pretty sure he fell in love with a shy pretty boy?” He ends on a question and Eddie just tsks at him as he makes his way back to the backroom.

“Ah,” Max breathes, “Just another bright morning at The Grind.”

Taglist - @gay-stranger-things @savory-babby @trashpocket if you wanna be added or removed just let me know ✨

#I don’t know man Steve is very Bi but he is also very shy you get me?#eddie is neither Bi not shy #Eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #steddie #st4 fanfic #stranger things #Robin Buckley #worm brain #the daily grind au #I’m a tall eddie truther and I will die that way #Robin is an icon honestly #okay anyway enjoy whatever this is

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ichorai · 2 years ago

Text

blueberries ; one.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader chapter synopsis ; the one with runaway brides, pregnant wives, and homewreckers. wc ; 8.5k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, mild cursing, mentions of cheating, reader is a physicist and also bisexual, literally everyone in the group is fruity other than ross lol

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The pretty waitress strode towards you with a sweet smile, your warm cup of tea balanced on one hand, and Joey’s slice of double fudge cake in the other. She dropped it by the table and you noticed a small piece of folded paper by the edge of your cup.

Once she was gone, you picked up the paper and unfurled it, a smile growing across your lips.

“Whatcha got there?” Chandler asked, peering over your shoulder.

“I think it’s the waitress’ number,” you replied, folding it back and pocketing it safely within your jeans. “She’s real pretty.”

Joey, already halfway through with his cake, teasingly spoke around a full mouth, “Too bad you never leave the house other than to hang with us. I can take that number off of you if you never end up using it.”

You shot him a half-hearted scowl, but remained quiet.

Just then, Monica and Phoebe strolled into the cafe, taking a seat on the large sofa beside you and Chandler.

“There’s nothing to say, really,” the dark-haired woman told Phoebe in a defensive tone. “He’s just some guy I work with.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Joey asked, having fully inhaled his cake in a matter of minutes.

“Monica’s going out with someone,” you replied, wrinkling your nose in amusement and curling your legs up beneath you. You drank a sip of your tea as an excuse to hide away from her withering glare. “Isn’t that right, Monica?”

A roguish grin stretched across Joey’s features. “Come on. What’s the catch? You’re going out with a guy—there’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with him.”

“Does he eat chalk?” Phoebe queried, placing a comforting hand on Monica’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to go through what I went through with Carl, you know?”

The five of you grimaced at the memory of Carl.

“It’s not even a date!” said Monica, brushing her dark hair away from her face. “It’s just two people going out to dinner—and not having sex.”

Chandler scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sounds like all the dates I’ve had.”

It was then that Ross came into the cafe, drenched from foot to toe. You glanced behind you to the window, surprised to see that it had started to rain without you realizing. It looked like your long-time friend was crying, but you couldn’t really tell if it was rainwater or tears that were on his face.

“Hi,” he mumbled, morose.

You arched a brow. “You okay, Ross?”

He shook his head, squeezing between you and Chandler on the sofa. The two of you grimaced when his sodden clothes dripped all over you, and Chandler rolled his eyes before getting up and sinking into another chair.

“Feels like someone reached down my throat, ripped out my small intestine, pulled it out of my mouth, and tied it around my neck.”

“Cookie?” Chandler offered. Ross ignored him.

Monica sighed. “Carol moved her stuff out today,” she offered as an explanation, knowing Ross would take well over an hour of moping to finally get to the point. “Let me go grab you some coffee.”

As his sister left, Ross crossed his arms, swatting Phoebe away when she tried to cleanse his aura, as she often did. “I’ll be fine—really, I will. I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“No, you don’t, Ross,” you quipped.

“No, I don’t! To hell with her, she left me!”

Joey snorted. “And you never knew she was a lesbian?”

“I knew—” you said pointedly. “Ross just never listened to me.”

“I didn’t think you were being serious!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know, sometimes you joke about things being gay and stuff so I just thought it was a joke I wasn’t in on. Because, you know, I’m not—”

Lightly punching him in the shoulder, you gave him a stern look. “I know you’re not gay, Ross. Why would I joke about your wife being gay?”

“I mean, you did say she was really hot once,” Phoebe chimed, much to your dismay. At your soured expression, the blonde spoke up again, “What? I think she’s hot, too!”

Ross buried his face into his hands, groaning loudly. “Why does everyone keep fixating on the fact that she’s a lesbian? She didn’t know—how would I have known?”

“Didn’t she tell you that she just kinda found dicks gross at one point?” Chandler asked, lounging in an awkward position on the chair. Ross grumbled quietly under his breath, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation of his wife being gay. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian. Being bisexual is exhausting—do I want a man to sweep me off my feet or do I want a woman to sweep me off my feet? I’ll never know.”

Monica came back with the cup of coffee, handing it to Ross before turning to you excitedly. “Hey, Y/N. The waitress was asking about you.”

“Oh, yeah? What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if you were single or not.”

With bated breath, you snuck a glance to the counter, watching the pretty waitress take another customer’s order.

“And?”

“I told her you were single,” Monica replied. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us…?”

“I’m single,” you reassured them. Ross made a strange noise that sounded like Chewbaca choking on a stick at the reminder of being single. “Ross, listen. It’s not your fault that your wife is queer—despite me telling you multiple times that she was—so let’s look at the bright side here. She’s not leaving you because of you. It’s the literal definition of it’s not you, it’s me.”

With a frown, Ross pried his fingers away from his still-damp face. “Yeah, I guess…”

Joey clapped his hands together, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Alright, Ross, look. You’re feelin’ a lot of pain right now. You’re hurting. Can I tell you what the answer is?”

Ross nodded, apprehensive.

“Strip joints!”

The rest of you groaned.

Joey shrugged, genuinely confused as to why it wouldn’t be a good idea. “Come on, you’re single now! Gotta release those hormones somehow.”

“See, I don’t want to be single!” Ross exclaimed in exasperation. “I just wanna be married again.”

As if on cue, a woman ran into the cafe, wearing a rather large white wedding dress. She was soaked and breathless, and her dripping brown hair was a mess, and the white fabric was streaked with dirt and mud and city street gunk.

All of you blinked in surprise.

Chandler gestured to the door in a pleading manner. “And I just want a million dollars!”

“A million dollars really isn’t all that much—ask for a hundred million,” you told him.

“A billion dollars!” he shouted.

“That’s too much. Nobody should have a billion dollars.”

“A trillion dollars!” he yelled again, ignoring you completely.

You rolled your eyes, before turning your gaze back to the lost woman in a wedding dress.

Concerned, Monica stood up, expression twisted into one of part-disbelief and part-recognition.

“Rachel?” she asked as she approached the woman.

“Oh, my God, Monica, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around a stricken Monica, the white fabrics of her wedding dress just about slapping her in the face. She spoke quickly, voice crackling with emotion. “I went to your apartment and some guy with a big hammer said you might be here, and you are! Gosh, I’m just so happy to see you!”

The rest of the group watched the two of them with evident confusion, and Monica led Rachel to the couch. “Oh, everybody, this is Rachel, another Lincoln High survivor. Rachel, this is everybody—that’s Chandler, Phoebe, Joey, Y/N… you remember my brother Ross, don’t you?”

“Sure!” Rachel smiled brightly, strangely cheerful for someone in a ruined, soaking wedding dress.

To make space for her and her rather spacious dress, you got up from the large couch and moved to Joey, bumping his hip playfully to get him to scooch aside on his chair so you could sit beside him. The two of you fought over space for a bit before he relented, grabbing your legs and swinging them over his thighs. You sent him a smug grin as you leaned back comfortably and Joey only stuck his tongue out at you childishly.

“So, uh, are you going to tell us now or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids, too?” Monica queried.

“Wouldn’t be so bad, huh?” Joey whispered into your ear, and you jabbed an elbow into his side to shut him up.

“Oh, God,” Rachel started, gesturing emphatically with her hands. It didn’t slip your notice when Ross sat up straight, watching the new woman with wide eyes. “It started about half an hour before the wedding. I was in this room where we were keeping all these presents and I was looking at this gravy boat! This really gorgeous Limoges gravy boat, you see. Which led me to realize that… I was more turned on looking at this gravy boat than by Barry! And I got really freaked out, because how could I get married to someone I think is less attractive than a gravy boat? And I just kinda stare at him and I realize that he looks just like Mr. Potato Head. You know, I always thought he looked familiar but…” she trailed off, looking ready to burst into tears. “Anyway, I just had to get out of there—and I didn’t know anywhere else to go. I know you and I have drifted apart but you’re the only person I know who lived in the city.”

Pursing her lips, Monica eyed Rachel quizzically. “... Who wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Rachel grimaced. “I was kinda hoping that wouldn’t be an issue.”

You stepped into Monica’s apartment, waving hello to the group of friends gathered on her couch.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, plopping down next to Rachel, still in her wedding dress. “Sorry I had to duck out at the cafe—work called. What’d I miss?”

“Rachel’s staying at Monica’s place now,” replied Phoebe. “I sang her a song to cheer her up!”

From behind the sofa, Joey curled an arm around you, and his other went over Rachel’s shoulders. “Hey, Rach, if you ever need a place to stay—Chandler and I live right across the hall. And Chandler’s away a lot.”

“Can you stop hitting on her?” you hissed, swatting his hand away. “God, Joey, it’s her wedding day!”

“Hey, don’t be jealous. I offered you the same when I first met you!”

“Jo, honey, I had my own apartment then, and I still have my own apartment now.”

The man shrugged, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the side of your head. “The offer still stands, sweetheart.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows, gesturing between the two of you. “So are you two… like…?”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed, slapping a hand over Joey’s mouth to make sure he didn’t say something stupid. “He’s just flirty with everyone.”

Joey’s tongue darted out to lick across your palm and you quickly retracted your hand with an exclamation of disgust, wiping it over his jacket before shoving him. “You’re so gross.”

He trotted away to Chandler in the kitchen before you could hit him again, grinning like a fool.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Chandler peered through the peeping hole, and gasped in an overexaggerated manner.

“It’s Paul the wine guy!”

Phoebe tilted her head. “Monica, is your ‘guy from work’ date Paul the wine guy?”

With a smile, Ross placed a hand on his sister’s arm. “Oh my God, he finally asked you out on a date?”

“Y-Yeah, I was supposed to go out with him for lunch but…” Monica looked at Rachel on the sofa. “Rach, wait, I can cancel!”

“Oh, please, no, you should go, Monica! I’ll be fine!” the brunette assured her.

“Do you want me to stay, Ross? Will you be okay?”

Ross looked torn, but you sent him a nasty glare that clearly meant—stop being a whiny bitch baby and let your sister go. He straightened himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yes, of course. You should go.”

Monica skipped to the door with a bright smile, slowly opening it to reveal Paul on the other side with—what do you know, a wine bottle. You pressed a fist to your lips to hide your laugh with a cough.

The man was quite the looker, and you had to roll your eyes to the ceiling when Phoebe started giggling with Monica like schoolgirls. As Monica said her goodbyes and strode out the door with Paul, Rachel and Ross had moved to the kitchen, where he began asking Rachel what her plans were for the night.

“Well, if you’re feeling lonely, you can always come to my place—Chandler and Joey are helping me put together some new furniture.”

Chandler held up a sloshing glass of orange juice he fished from the fridge. “It’s gonna be a blast! I just can’t wait to hit nails with a hammer like a real man!” he said, practically dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh,” said Rachel as she got up. “I’m flattered, really, but I think I just want to unwind here for tonight. It’s been a long day.” She excused herself, heading to the bathroom.

Though Ross looked a little dejected, Joey and Chandler shrugged it off easily. “Hey, Phoebe, you wanna help out?”

The blonde pursed her lips in thought. “Mm, I wish I could, but I don’t want to.”

You snorted in amusement, slinging an arm around her.

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Ross. “Could really use the company right now.”

“Oh, sorry, Ross, I can’t,” you winced. “I’ve got to run some calculations for work before tomorrow. I’ve got a presentation first thing on Monday. But call me if you need help, okay?”

Apologetically, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Bye, guys. Tell Rachel it was nice meeting her for me, will you? I should get going now.”

“What, and I don’t get a goodbye kiss?” Joey asked, stretching his arms out with an exaggerated pout.

With a huff, you reluctantly gave him a hug, before swiftly pecking his cheek. “See you guys later, alright? You want a kiss too, Chandler?”

“Would be nice,” he replied, scuffing the floor with the heel of his shoe. “I’m touch starved.”

“We know,” the four of you replied in tandem, before bursting into laughter.

You leaned over to kiss Chandler’s cheek too, and then Phoebe’s for good measure, before waving one last time and sliding out the door.

It wasn’t even two hours later when you got a call, with Ross yelling something about how he couldn’t feel his legs and how his life was crumbling apart because Chandler hammered a screw into his bookshelf instead of a nail. Joey was in the background moaning about how hungry he was, and Chandler was screaming at Ross to calm down, which obviously made Ross even more upset.

So there you were, standing outside of Ross’ door with two boxes of pizza and sleepy eyes. You passed out on top of your work an hour through, the ringing from Ross’ call being what shocked you awake.

As soon as the door swung open, Ross immediately enveloped you in a hug, speaking so quickly that it all went in one ear and out the other. Something about his lesbian wife, you supposed. You patted his back lethargically.

Joey came forward to take the pizzas off of you, somehow already managing to stuff half a slice into his face with one bite. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. I could kiss you right now.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Please don’t.”

Littered around Ross’ relatively empty apartment was a bunch of loose piles of wood and metal poles and silver nails and screws haphazardly strewn all over the floor.

“You guys are a mess.”

For the rest of the time, the three men ate as they watched you tiredly read over the manuals, before slowly but accurately assembling together the furniture. They all clapped once you finally put together the bookshelf—amazed at the fact that it didn’t topple to the ground as soon as you put one book on top, as it did when they tried.

“You’re good with your hands,” Joey commented slyly. “Wonder what else they’re good at.”

“I’ve been told I’m good at punching people,” you replied dryly, sitting on a single stool and leaning against Joey for support, seeing as Ross didn’t have a couch anymore. You closed your eyes sleepily, and he placed an arm around you. Quietly, you mumbled out, “If I fall asleep, just tell Ross it’s not because I hate him, okay? I have a feeling just about anything would set him off tonight.”

“What if there’s only one person for everybody, you know?” Ross blubbered to Chandler from across the room, proving your point exactly. “What if you just get one chance—and that’s it?”

Pulling a sour expression, Joey cocked his head as he said, “What the hell are you talking about, Ross? One person? That’s so… limiting. It’s like saying there’s only one ice cream flavor you like. Let me tell you something, Ross, there’s tons of ice cream flavors out there. There’s rocky road, and cookie dough, and Bing cherry vanilla! You can get ‘em with jimmies, or nuts, or whipped cream, if you know what I’m saying.” He winked down at you and you pinched his side. “Personally, I think I’m a mint chocolate chip. Chandler—you’re a raspberry sorbet. Y/N, I think you’d be somethin’ like blueberry cheesecake. And Ross… you’re a… vanilla. With nuts, if we’re going wild with it.”

Mildly offended that Joey called him vanilla, Ross opened his mouth to retort something, but Chandler beat him to it.

“You think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

Joey waved the both of them away. “Anyways, the point is, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to you! You got married when you were like, what? Eight? Welcome back to the world—grab a spoon!”

“Though, your options are a bit more limited seeing as you’re the only straight one in this room,” you chimed, lifting your head from Joey’s side with a sleepy grin. Ross shot you a dirty look.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’m horny or hungry.”

“Ugh, you’re gross,” you complained, letting your eyes slip back shut.

Groaning in disgust, Chandler backed away. “Stay out of my freezer.”

Ross sighed heavily, sliding down the wall and slumping against it as if he were a ragdoll. There was a beer can in his hand, one that he claimed was Carol’s favorite drink, and he took a long swig.

“Grab a spoon, pfft,” Ross mocked. “Do you know how long it’s been since I grabbed a spoon? You know, even if I could get it together to ask a woman out, who’d I ask?”

Exhaling softly, you moved away from Joey (much to his dismay, he was just getting warm with you cozying up to his side), and sat down beside Ross.

“Hey, dude,” you said, nudging his arm. “It’s okay if you haven’t grabbed a spoon in a while. Grabbing spoons as quickly as you can won’t instantly make things better. Things like this take time—you don’t have to rush into anything. Whatever happens, happens man. You’ll be okay. I mean, it’s not like either of you did anything wrong. It’s just life, you know?”

Tears pricked the corners of Ross’ eyes. He ducked his head so you wouldn’t see, but you knew they were there nonetheless.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbled, sniffling. Pursing your lips, you roped him into an embrace.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Chandler said, biting down on a slice of pizza. He turned to Joey again with a furrowed brow. “Now back to the things that are actually important. Why on earth do you think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

The next morning, you found yourself having breakfast at Monica’s place, sitting between Chandler and Joey, who had just dumped the coffee Rachel made for them into your cup of tea while her back was turned.

You kicked both of them underneath the table, but smiled sweetly when Rachel came back, surprised at how quickly the two boys had downed their coffee.

“Would you like some?” Rachel asked. “It’s my first time making it!”

“No!” you blurted out, embarrassingly quick. “Sorry, I’m just—trying to cut back on caffeine.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied, before leaning back against the sink. “I do have a question for you guys though—do you, uhm… all have jobs?”

Monica cocked her head, biting into her buttered toast. “Yeah, we all have jobs. See, that’s how we buy things.”

“Ugh, capitalism,” you muttered under your breath, taking a sip of your mug before realizing that it was full of the bitter coffee that Rachel made, and tried to discreetly spit it back out. Joey noticed however, and patted your back sympathetically.

“You and your fancy words, Y/N,” he said, as if you were just making the word up.

Rachel pulled the dark bathrobe tighter around her figure. “What do all of you do?”

“Well, you know I’m a chef,” said Monica. “Y/N is a physicist, Joey is an actor, and Chandler… uhm… Chandler plays with numbers and data and all that.”

“Wow! Would I have seen you in anything?” she asked Joey.

“Eh, mostly regional work—”

“He was in that Wee One’s production of Pinocchio,” you put in, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh. You grinned at him cheekily.

Chandler barked out a laugh, mimicking the line of, “Look Geppeto, I’m a real live boy!”

“I’m not taking this abuse,” said Joey, standing up to head to the door.

The two of you apologized quietly, before Chandler abruptly stood up and pranced out the door singing, “Once I was a wooden boy, a little wooden boy!”

Joey followed him back to their apartment, yelling out obscenities along the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Love to talk more, ladies, but I’ve gotta head to work.”

“What exactly do you do, though?” Rachel asked. It wasn’t often that you saw someone genuinely curious about your work, other than Ross.

“I specialize in quantum physics—I do quite a bit of research for my field, and propose theories, and sometimes I lecture students working on their doctorate degrees. In fact, that was how I met Ross—we were both teaching at the same university for a couple months and became friends, and through him, I met the rest of the group.”

Rachel blinked at you with amazement. “That sounds amazing! Do you know how I could get one of those?”

“Er… what?”

“You know. A job. Like the rest of you have.”

Sending Monica a confused glance, you said, “Rachel, have you never had a job before?”

“Well,” she taps her finger against her lips, “I’ve babysat for cash before. Does that count?”

“Oh, honey,” simpered Monica from beside Rachel. “Good luck finding one. I’m sure there’s plenty of restaurants or cafes looking to hire a waitress.”

The memory of the waitress from yesterday flashed into your mind—with her pretty eyes and sweet smile…

You shook your head, before checking the time. You blanched upon seeing that you were nearly late for your presentation. “Gosh, I gotta run. See you guys later!”

That night, the entire friend group sat around Rachel as she hovered over all the credit cards she had that were paid by her father.

“Come on, give her a break. It’s hard to live on your own for the first time,” Phoebe said.

Rachel frowned at the nice words, as if she was going to cry. “Oh, thank you, Pheebs.”

“Yeah, I remember I was fourteen and my mom had just killed herself and my stepdad was in prison! I didn’t know anybody, so I ended up living with this albino guy who was cleaning windshields outside Port Authority. And then, heh, what do you know, he killed himself, too. Then I found aromatherapy! So believe me, I know exactly how you feel.” The blonde smiled sweetly, and you couldn’t help but give her a one-armed hug from the side.

“Here,” Monica said, handing Rachel a pair of large orange scissors. “Just cut ‘em. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

The group began chanting ‘cut, cut, cut!’ as if it were some sort of cult ritual. Finally, Rachel straightened herself and cut through each of the cards, lips puckered in a pout.

“Welcome to the real world,” said Chandler.

“It sucks,” you chimed.

“You’re gonna love it!” exclaimed Monica.

The waitress was staring at you again. You could feel her eyes practically boring holes into the back of your neck. Apprehensively, you turned ever so slightly to meet her gaze, but she quickly pretended to be busy with wiping down the counters.

Joey snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing your attention back to him.

“Are you even listening?” he asked.

“No,” you replied easily, which made him snort out a laugh.

Monica gestured wildly as she explained again to the confused men. “It’s just, for us, kissing is as important as any part of it.”

“Yeah, right,” Joey scoffed. Once he realized that the three women were dead serious, he furrowed his brows. “Wait, you’re not pulling my leg?”

Nodding emphatically, Rachel said, “Everything you need to know is in that first kiss!”

With a shrug, Chandler put forth, “Yeah, I think for us, kissing is more like an opening act. It’s like the stand-up comedian you have to sit through before Pink Floyd comes out.”

Ross murmured his agreement rather sheepishly. “Right, and it’s not like we don’t like the comedian, it’s just that… that’s not why we bought the ticket.”

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Phoebe. “Do you prefer the comedian or… Pink Floyd?”

With a hum, you traced the rim of your teacup with your pointer finger before sighing. “I don’t really have a concrete answer for that, honestly. Both the comedian and the actual show are great, but—sometimes I don’t even want the comedian at all, and sometimes I don’t want the show at all. It depends on the person and the situation.” A bit quieter, you tacked on, “Sometimes the longer the comedian drags on, the better the show’ll be after. And sometimes the comedian and the show perform at the same time—you guys gotta think outside the box, here.”

The rest of the group blinked at you owlishly.

With a smile, Rachel whooped. “Y/N, you little devil! I didn’t know you were into foreplay! But you know what, you’re right. Maybe the comedian should never leave the stage!”

Heat flushed your cheeks at Rachel’s loud words. You wondered if the waitress could hear your conversation. “Woah, I never said that—”

“I’m confused,” Joey interjected. “Are we still talking about sex?”

You watched in amusement as Chandler and Joey began digging into Monica’s lasagne in search of Rachel’s lost wedding ring. A bit of sauce smeared over Joey’s cheek and you reached over to wipe it away with your thumb, muttering out how ridiculous they looked nearly elbow-deep in cheese and pasta.

There was a knock at the door, and when Monica swung it open, you were greeted with a forlorn Ross. Honestly, when wasn’t he forlorn these days?

“Hi,” he said, looking like he wanted a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him whole.

“Why the long face?” you asked, moving away from the pair rifling through the lasagna to the Geller siblings by the door.

Ross’ voice cracked a little as he replied, “Carol’s pregnant.”

“I found it!” Phoebe exclaimed from behind you, which was funny because she didn’t have any lasagna on her hands while the other two boys held handfuls of the pasta. She held the ring up, covered in marinara sauce and small chunks of beef, holding it out to Rachel.

Monica’s face dropped in shock. “Wh-Wha—? Wh… What?”

“Yeah. Do that for another two hours, and you might be where I am right now,” Ross said, walking into the apartment.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you led him to the couch for him to take a seat. “How do you fit into this whole thing?”

“Carol says she and Susan want me to be involved, but if I’m not comfortable with it—then I don’t have to be. Basically, it’s totally up to me.”

Phoebe called out from the sink as she washed her hands, “She’s so great! I miss her.”

They half-heartedly glared at her, but you stifled a laugh.

“What does she mean by involved?” asked Monica.

“Presumably, the biggest part of your job is done!” Chandler added, which earned him a light punch to the shoulder.

Scratching his head, Ross loosened his tie, feeling like he was being suffocated. “They want me to go down to this sonogram thing with them tomorrow. I have no idea if I’m going or not. No matter what I do, though… I’m still going to be a father.”

Clattering from the kitchen made the group turn their heads to see Joey practically attacking the lasagna with a spoon that was far too big, shoveling the pasta into his mouth. At the incredulous stares, Joey flinched defensively. “What? This is still ruined, right?”

Ross stood beside the television as he showed everybody the sonogram of the baby, a smile etched permanently across his face. “Isn’t that just amazing?”

You were just about to chime in about how big they already look, but Joey beat you to it by asking, “What the hell am I supposed to be looking at? Is that its foot or its head?”

“If you tilt your head to the left and relax your eyes, it kinda looks like an old potato,” Phoebe said as she squinted in concentration at the screen.

Ross eyed her warily. “Then don’t do that.”

From beside you, Monica started tearing up, and you could hear her little sniffles. Man, do the Gellers cry a lot. You wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned her head onto your shoulder as the two of you watched the sonogram.

“How’d your date go, Pheebs?” you asked the blonde as she walked into Central Perk.

She made a noise of discontent, tugging her light blue coat off. “Not so good. He walked me to the subway and said, ‘we should do this again’.”

The rest of the group grimaced, saved for Rachel, who appeared confused.

“What? He said they should do it again—isn’t that good?”

“Uh, no,” Monica interjected, raising a finger. “Loosely translated, ‘we should do this again’ means ‘you will never see me naked’!”

Rachel reared back. “Since when?”

“Since always!” said Joey. “It’s, like, dating language. How ‘it’s not you’ always means ‘it is you’.”

Chandler nodded. “Or ‘you’re such a nice guy’ means ‘I’m going to be dating leather-wearing alcoholics and complaining about them to you’! Not speaking from personal experience or anything.”

“Or how ‘I think we should see other people’ means ‘hah! I already am!’” Phoebe added.

“And everybody just knows this? Y/N, you’re the smart one. Is this true?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I’d say it’s less about the phrase itself and more about how people use it nowadays. Nobody says ‘you’re such a nice guy’ without some sort of intention of friendzoning them, right?”

Rachel still appeared miffed, so Joey piped up, “Yeah, it cushions the blow.”

“Like when you’re a kid and your parents put your old dog to sleep and they tell you it went off to live on some farm,” Chandler explained.

From opposite you, Ross’ eyes lit up. “That’s funny, because our parents actually did send our dog off to live on a farm!”

The rest of the group stared at him.

“Uh, Ross—?” Monica started.

“Hello? The Milner’s farm in Connecticut? You don’t remember that? The Milners, they had this unbelievable farm and they had horses and rabbits that he could chase and…” The words died on his tongue as it slowly began to dawn upon him. “Oh, my God, Chi-Chi!”

The couch sank beneath your weight as you sat down, Joey’s script in hand.

“How could you do this to me, Tom? I thought we were best friends,” you read off the paper, trying your best not to laugh at Joey’s concentrated expression.

Joey was walking around with his hands perched on his hips, uttering the next line, “I was never only your friend. I loved you.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment, before you allowed a smile to break through.

“That was great, Jo!”

“Yeah?” He cuffed you on the shoulder with a genuine grin. “Let’s keep going.”

It was then that Chandler walked out from his room, waving hello to you. “What’re you two doing?”

“Practicing,” Joey replied. “Got a big audition coming up.”

Clearing your throat, you read the next line, standing up so you’d be able to face Joey. “What do you expect me to say, Tom?”

Joey shook his head, shoulders slumping. You couldn’t help but be impressed at how quickly he could fall into character. “Tell me you love me back.”

“I…” You stared at him, watching the way his gaze would dart from your eyes to your lips, and back up again. Man, he was a great actor. “I can’t tell you that.”

He sighed, resigned. “Then I’m going out for a smoke.”

Brandishing a cigarette from his pocket, he used a lighter to set off the end, before inhaling sharply. Not a second later, he was coughing with a grimace plastered across his face. “Damn it! How am I ever going to get the part if I don’t know how to smoke properly? This tastes awful.”

“Relax your hand,” Chandler chimed, sitting down on the couch. “Let your wrist go. No, wait, not so much. Alright, good. Now try taking a puff.”

Inhaling softly this time, Joey looked to the side, white plumes falling from the edges of his lips. He coughed once more. “Nope, no. I hate this!”

“Okay, no, give it to me.”

“I’m not giving you a cigarette!” Joey protested, pulling his arm away.

“No, it’s fine. You wanna get this part or not?”

You sat back down, grinning. “If it’s any motivation, I think smoking is hot. I don’t find smokers hot because, you know—lung cancer and everything—but the act of smoking? That’s hot.”

Joey narrowed his eyes at you, before reluctantly handing Chandler the cigarette.

“Alright, don’t think of it as a cigarette. Think of it as the thing that has been missing from your hand. When you’re holding it, you feel right. You feel complete.” Slowly, he brought it up to his mouth to take a puff, and as soon as his lips touched the end, he let out a loud groan as he exhaled. “Oh, my God.”

You had to wrestle him to take the cigarette away before he could breathe in any more.

Later that night, you were back at Central Perk, sitting by Monica, who had her hand extended out in front of her. “They say that it’s from the tip of a guy’s thumb to the tip of his index finger.”

The three men, Ross, Chandler, and Joey, began extending their own hands, looking at the distance with disdain.

You chortled a laugh when Ross asked if he could use either thumb.

Rachel strode up to the couches with a tray full of drinks. “Alright, don’t tell me! Decaf cappuccino for Joey, black coffee for Ross, latte for Chandler, peppermint mocha for Y/N, and an iced tea for Monica!”

She handed out each drink with a proud grin, and none of you had the heart to tell her that she had gotten every drink mixed up—save for yours. You began nursing your mocha with a small grin to her.

“I’m getting pretty good at this!” she exclaimed. God, she was so cute, you thought fondly as she walked away to take another customer’s order.

When her back was turned, the drinks were finally switched around, and you watched in amusement as they hurriedly exchanged mugs. It was then that Phoebe walked in, making incoherent noises and hands fluttering about as she muttered.

“You okay, Phoebe?” asked Joey.

She waved him away. “Yeah, no, it’s not even worth—okay, I guess I’ll tell you guys about it. It’s my bank!”

Monica leaned forward. “What did they do to you?”

“I open up my mail and look at my monthly statement, and there’s five hundred extra dollars in my account!”

“Congrats!” you exclaimed just as Chandler sarcastically gasped out, “Satan’s minions at work again!”

“Now I have to go down there and deal with them,” Phoebe moped.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” crowed Joey. “Keep it!”

Vehemently, Phoebe shook her head. “No, it’s not mine! I didn’t earn it! If I kept it, it’d be like stealing!”

Rachel came back around with a cup of coffee, leaning over to tell Phoebe, “Yeah, but if you spent it, it’d be like shopping!”

“Okay, but I’d never be able to enjoy it, you know? It’d be like this giant karmic debt!” she cried out, clearly frustrated with the entire ordeal.

You would’ve replied with something to comfort her, but the thought was torn from you when you noticed Chandler awkwardly bent over the couch, as if trying to hide something.

“Dude, what are you doing?” you asked, peering over to look. “Damn it, Chandler!” you yelled, grabbing him by the belt and hauling him upright.

With a roll of his eyes, he sat up, white smoke falling from his mouth as he blew out, defeated.

“Gross!” Monica yelled.

“You’ve been so good for three years, I can’t believe you!” said Phoebe.

“And this,” Chandler held up the cigarette, “is my reward!”

Shaking his head, Ross held a hand out. “Hold on a second, remember what happened the last time you quit?”

“Okay, so this time I won’t quit! If anything, you should be angry at Joey and Y/N, they were smoking it all up in our apartment this morning!”

The two of you gasped. “No, we weren’t! I hate smoking!” Joey yelled. “Y/N was the one that said smoking was hot!”

You smacked his arm. “The act of it is, actual smokers aren’t hot! Don’t you remember what I said about lung cancer? Chandler, don’t pin the blame on us, you chose to smoke!”

Exasperated, Chandler groaned. “Fine. I’m putting it out.” He threw the cigarette into Phoebe’s coffee, much to her dismay.

“Alright,” Monica said, inching away from the group. “I gotta change—I’ve got a date soon.” You briefly remembered her mentioning that things hadn’t gone so well with Paul, so she was exploring the dating pool once again.

“Is this Alan again?” Rachel asked excitedly. “How’s it going?”

A smile spread across Monica’s features. “It’s going good! He’s nice.”

“So when do we get to meet the guy?” asked Joey.

“Hm…” Monica tapped a finger against her lips. “Never. See you guys!”

“Come on!” the group exclaimed after her.

“No!” she said. “Not after what happened with Steve!”

Snorting, Chandler shook his head. “What are you talking about? We loved Shteve. Shteve wash shexy!”

The rest of the group hid their laughter behind cups of coffee.

“Look, I don’t even know how I feel about him yet. Just give me a chance to figure it out.”

“Then we can meet him?” asked Rachel, hopeful.

Monica grinned. “Nope! Bye, guys!” With that, she skipped out of the cafe.

You drank the rest of your mocha, placing the mug onto the table and leaving a large tip for Rachel beneath the cup—you were honestly quite flattered that out of all the orders, she had gotten yours right.

“I better get going, too.”

“What?” asked Joey. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck. “Work.”

Ross arched a brow. “I thought you said you had the day off today. What’s going on?”

“Oh, my God!” Phoebe exclaimed. “You’re seeing someone!”

The group burst out into a dozen questions at once and you held your hands up. “Woah, woah! I’m not seeing someone, I just—”

“Is it that waitress that gave you her number?” Joey interrupted, a bit less enthusiastic than everybody else.

Heat crawled up your neck and festered into your face. “Yeah, but it’s not a date,” you sighed. “It’s just a casual meet up.”

“So… sex,” Chandler deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, sex. Don’t be such a child about it.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rachel gasped, resting a hand on your arm. “And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, a little whiny.

“Around, uh, a week, I think? And I didn’t tell you because it just feels… I don’t know, embarrassing?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around us!”

Joey blanched. “A week? How many times have you guys done it?”

“Oh, God, Joey, I’m not going to tell you about my sex life. I’m running late already—I’ll see you guys later!”

With that, you practically dashed out of the cafe, heart beating irregularly quickly and cheeks set aflame.

“Do you all promise?”

Ross rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mon, we promise we’ll be good.”

You nodded with a sweet smile in hopes of quelling her growing anxiety of letting her closest friends meet a guy she was dating.

Not a second later, Phoebe stormed into Monica’s apartment, sitting down right beside you and showing you a letter from her bank.

“Dear Ms. Buffay, thank you for calling attention to our error. We have credited your account five hundred dollars. We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and hope you’ll accept this football phone as our free gift.” She pulled out a large brown phone in the shape of, what do you know, a football, looking so cross you could’ve sworn steam was coming out of her ears. “Can you believe this? Now I have a thousand dollars and a football phone!”

Blinking in astonishment, Rachel snatched the letter from you, exclaiming, “What bank is this?”

The door rang, cutting any further questions about Phoebe’s strange bank off.

“He’s here!” Rachel exclaimed, throwing the letter away somewhere behind her, clapping her hands excitedly.

Before Monica opened the door, she clasped her hands together and addressed the entire group. “Please be good. Please? Remember how much you like me and try not to make fun of him too much.”

“So?” Monica started, anxiously brushing dark strands of hair away from her face. “Let the Alan-bashing begin. Who’s gonna take the first shot?”

The group awkwardly glanced at each other, strangely silent.

If you had to admit, you rather liked Alan. He was funny, charming, and had real pretty eyes.

“I’ll go,” said Ross. “Let’s start with the way he kept… ugh, no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Can’t do it! We loved him.”

The rest of them chimed in their agreement enthusiastically.

“Wait a minute, we’re talking about someone that I’m going out with?” Monica asked, incredulous.

“Know what was great? The way his smile was kind of crooked,” Joey sighed, dreamily looking off into space.

With a scoff, you slapped his thigh. “Watch it, Joey. Wouldn’t want you catching feelings for Monica’s boyfriend here.”

“Jealous, much? Want me all to yourself?” he asked flirtatiously, leaning down closer to you. You wrinkled your nose and shoved him away.

The rest of the group began chattering about Alan again, and how he did the best impression of David Hasselhoff.

You turned back to Joey. “Both of us know you can’t stick to one person, Jo.” Your words were meant to be teasing and light-hearted, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Joey’s face fell just a bit at your words.

“I can stick to you,” he said, uncharacteristically softly, fingers threading between yours. “You’re a pretty sticky person, you know?”

“Har, har, har. That’s funny, Joey,” you crooned sarcastically. “Also really gross. Don’t call me sticky ever again.”

Joey smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You decided not to say anything about it, and turned your attention back to the group and listened to them fawn over Alan.

Back at Central Perk, you had just come out of the bathroom in time to hear the gang berating Chandler for smoking again, and you sat down between Ross and Joey on the large couch.

“This is so unfair,” Chandler barked, blowing out white plumes of smoke. “So I have a flaw—big fucking deal! Like Joey’s constant knuckle-cracking isn’t annoying? Or Ross, with his over-pronouncing every goddamn word! And Monica, with that snort when she laughs! Or when Y/N refuses to get Chinese takeout because they use styrofoam containers and they hate the sound of styrofoam! I haven’t had Chinese takeout in months! I accept all of those flaws, why can’t you accept me for this?”

The entire group pursed their lips and dejectedly hung their heads in silence.

“You can just order Chinese takeout on your own,” you grumbled under your breath. “You don’t always have to have me there.”

“Yeah, well, then I’d feel bad!” replied Chandler, crossing his arms like a child. “I’d be chewing on my pork dumplings and thinking—man, I betrayed one of my closest friends for this.”

“Does the knuckle cracking bother everybody, or just him?” asked Joey, hands glued firmly to his sides, as if he had to consciously remind himself not to crack them.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you faked a look of reassurance, before deadpanning, “We could live without it, Jo.”

“Is it just a little annoying? Or is it like when Phoebe chews her hair?”

As if on cue, Phoebe spat out locks of blonde that she was working between her teeth. You coughed to hide your growing smile.

“Don’t listen to him, Pheebs, alright? I think it’s endearing,” said Ross.

Joey frowned, then spoke again, over-enunciating each word. “Oh, you do, do you?”

Monica snort-laughed, which made Chandler gesture erratically towards her.

“There’s nothing wrong with speaking correctly!” Ross defended.

“Indeed, there isn’t!” Rachel proudly gesticulated, also poking fun at Ross with overstretched syllables. At Ross’ withering glare, she squeaked, “I should really get back to work!”

“Otherwise, someone might get what they actually ordered,” Phoebe muttered quietly, but not quiet enough for Rachel not to hear.

The brunette’s jaw dropped. “Oh, so the hair comes out and the gloves come on!”

The entire group burst into a raucous argument, and you found yourself somehow defending and protesting against both Phoebe and Joey at the same time. From the corner of your eye, you could see Chandler get up and walk away with a skip in his step, and a lit cigarette in hand.

It was a little past two in the morning. You had barely thrown anything on except for a worn black hoodie and a pair of jeans that had holes in the pockets. But you just needed to leave—it felt like you couldn’t breathe in your own apartment.

A part of you considered going to Monica’s.

But for some reason unbeknownst to you, you found yourself in front of Joey’s bedroom, having gotten through their front door with an emergency spare key they had given you. This wasn’t really an emergency, but you’ve used it for lesser reasons.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you knocked on the door.

A couple seconds later, a groggy Joey swung it open, dark hair messily strewn over his head. He was rubbing his fists into his eyes, muffling a yawn as he said, “Oh, hi, Y/N. You missed a lot this afternoon—Chandler quit smoking, Phoebe found a thumb in a can of soda and got seven thousand bucks for it, Monica broke up with Alan and I’m obviously devastated about it but—”

He immediately stopped in his brief recap of the day when he finally looked at you properly, noticing the way your eyes were puffy and red, as if you’d been crying. There were dried tear tracks on your cheeks, barely visible beneath the dim moonlight streaming through the window across the room.

“Hey, hey,” his hands were on your shoulders instantly, roping you closer to him in a warm embrace. You buried your head into his chest, lips trembling as you staved away the burning urge to sob right into him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Gently, he led you into his room, sitting you down on his bed.

“I don’t even know… it’s not that big of a deal, I just… felt so overwhelmed,” you croaked, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“What happened?” he asked, sitting down beside you and slinging a protective arm over your back.

“You remember that waitress that I had a thing with?”

Joey hummed.

“Well, she’s married. And she’s got a kid. I didn’t know, obviously. I just… I don’t know. She told me while we were messing around, like—how fucked up is that? I mean, it’s bad enough that you’re using me to cheat on someone that you’ve got a kid with, but it’s even worse to bring that up while we were… doing it, you know? I told her to leave and she begged me to hear her out. She wouldn’t go, and got angry at me for some fucking reason, so I told her I’d leave the apartment and if she wasn’t gone by the time I got back I’d call the cops on her. I know it wasn’t really my fault but—I still feel terrible about it. I don’t want to be the reason a family falls apart, Joey.”

You were shaking against him, and a stray tear meandered down your cheek.

There wasn’t really much Joey could say. He was never very good at comforting people.

He pressed a kiss to your cold forehead, brushing away haphazard strands of hair.

“You wanna stay over?” he offered, patting his bed. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Wordlessly, you pulled back his comforter and laid down, exhausted beyond relief.

Joey patted your back one more time for good measure, before getting up to head to the living room.

“No,” you mumbled, hand loosely wrapping around his wrist. “Please stay here with me.”

Hesitant, he asked, “You sure?”

Joey never got a response—you had already fallen asleep. With a shrug, he slid into the bed beside you, winding his arms over you and cradling you from behind. His nose pressed into your shoulder and he inhaled sharply, noting with pleasant surprise that you smelled like blueberries.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You shifted in his hold so that your arm laid over his that was thrown over your waist.

Joey fell into an easy, dreamless sleep in no less than a minute.

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