#like I can see him spending the whole time reeling from everything with eddie

[makorragal-312]

The Diaz parents are gonna be in for a rude awakening when they realize that Chris is in Texas with them for the sole purpose of getting space from his dad, not to fulfill their long-awaited familial fantasy.

[oneforthemunny]

boy toys |dom!eddie munson x brat!reader|

​​prompt: after a week of not seeing each other, eddie comes over and sees what's been getting you through your time apart.

contains: 18+ themes, minors dni. dom!eddie, sub!reader, fem! reader, slightly mean!dom!eddie, vibrator, toys, overstimulation, slapping, orgasm denial, light bondage, oral male rec, p in v sex, language

You peeked out the window, grinning when you saw the familiar van in the parking lot, Eddie stomping his cigarette out beside it. You heard the heavy footsteps, boots against the creaking wood. Before he could knock, you had the door open, arms wrapped around his neck, pushing him against the wall by your door.

Eddie let out a sound of surprise, laughing lowly into the kiss, his hands finding your waist easily, pulling you flush against him. His lips were soft, full, sweetly devouring every part of your mouth, leaving your blushing and reeling. His eyes glimmered when he pulled back, giving you a deep dimpled grin that had you swooning.

"D'ya miss me that much, sweetheart?" Eddie chuckled, hands softly rubbing down your waist.

You giggled, shrugging gently, a blush still warm across your cheeks. "Yeah," You admitted, sweetly. "I really did. It's been a long week."

And it had been.

The week had been agonizingly busy with the boutique bustling with customers, new shipments, and changing the styles to fit the new season. On top of that, Eddie's schedule and your's was conflicting, making it near impossible to see each other all week, despite working across the street from each other. You'd passed him one night after closing, where he was bouncing outside of the Hideout, checking IDs and collecting covers.

He'd grinned at you, jogging when the line emptied, pressing you into a quick kiss. "I'll see you Sunday, alright? I'm off and so are you, and we can spend the whole day together. Whatever you want to do, sweet thing."

His promise had kept you going, pushing through the draining week until finally, it was Sunday. You'd woken up early, tidying the house and making sure everything was perfect for him; for Eddie. Not that he minded, he never did, but you wanted it to be perfect.

The two of you walked into your apartment, shutting the door before your neighbor, Mrs. Franklin, could scream at the two of you for being promiscuous again. Eddie's hand hadn't left you, smoothing down your back, entwining your hand in his, pulling you into his arms to kiss you again.

"So, what'd you have planned for the day?" Eddie asked, nose pressed against yours. "Wanna go to Starcourt? I think they're opening at one, but we could go look around. See if they had those shoes you wanted."

Your heart swelled, smitten that he'd remembered such a small detail you'd told him a few weeks ago. You sighed, contently, running your hands down his arms. "Mm, maybe not today." You hummed. "I was thinking we could stay in, together. I have some movies from Family Video we could watch. I got that new scary one you wanted."

Eddie smirked. "You spoil me, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Too good to me."

You blushed, giggling. "I'm just going to change. I don't want to be in my pajamas all day." You said, his hand still lingering with yours when you pulled him to your bedroom.

"So, how did your gig go last night? I'm sorry I couldn't come." You opened your closet, flicking through the racks, while Eddie sat on your bed, the springs creaking under his weight.

"Eh, it was pretty good. Pretty good crowd, too, all things considered." Eddie looked around, taking in your room like he hadn't been in there dozens of time. He looked at the pictures, smiling at the framed one of you and him on your night stand.

"That's great." You smiled, pulling off your pajama top, and tossing it towards the hamper. Eddie picked the picture up, going to wipe a smudge when he paused, eyes widening gently. "I'll be at the next one, for sure. I just-"

"Baby," Eddie's voice purred. You turned around, brows furrowed before your face dropped. Eddie's grin was wide and salacious, eyes darkened. "Whatcha got here, huh?"

You blushed, heart jumping when you saw what he was holding. Bright purple with a long handle; your vibrator. Something a friend got you as a gag gift for a birthday years ago, but a very handy gift; especially after long weeks like this past one.

You shifted, biting your lip softly. His eyes were expectant, lifting a brow for an answer. You shrugged. "I told you it's been a long week." You said sheepishly.

Eddie chuckled darkly, standing as he examined the toy in his hand. You shrunk when he crowded you by the closet, his looming figure tall and dominant. Eddie pressed the button, the vibrator coming to life with a soft buzz. His eyes flashed down at you, a wicked, wolfish grin that had your heart hammering and center pulsing.

"Are you supposed to play with yourself without asking first?" Eddie asked. Your face dropped, eyes rounding up at him. "Hm?"

You shook your head, Eddie caught your chin in his free hand, tilting his head towards you. "I didn't think so." He tutted. "And, I just don't recall you asking me, baby."

Your heart hammered, a shiver spilling down your spine. Your stomach twisted at where the conversation was headed. "I'm sorry." You whispered. "I just... I-I-"

"Uh-uh-uh," Eddie's fingers dug harder into your jaw. "You broke my rule. You know what that means don't you, baby?"

You nodded slowly, palms sweating and shifting on your feet. Eddie turned to toy off, nodding towards your bed. "Strip. Go sit on the bed for me."

You fumbled towards the bed, pulling off your bra and pajama pants, throwing them in the hamper. Eddie looked through your closet, seeing your belts, cute and stylish, hanging on a hook. He smirked, grabbing two. Since he wasn't at his trailer, he didn't have his usual cuffs and restraints, so he'd have to make do with what he could.

You looked at him, wide eyed and awaiting. Eddie sighed heavily, shaking his head at you. "Go ahead and roll over. Hand behind your back." You obeyed, flipping over and wiggling your hips into position, clasping your hands at the small of your back.

Eddie tied them tightly, looping the belt around them, securing them firmly before lifting your hips up higher. "Legs apart." He barked, hand falling down hard on your left ass cheek.

You yelped, rocking until your legs were apart, hoping he couldn't see how wet you were already. He could, of course.

Eddie sighed, running a hand from your hip down your thigh. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to punish you." He said, smirking at the pathetic whimper that fell from your lips. "But you just had to go and be a bad girl, didn't you, baby?" His finger slipped into you with ease, relishing in the little gasp and moan that followed.

"Is that what you are? Are you a bad girl?" Eddie asked, index finger pumping slowly in and out of you, feeling your walls flutter and clench around him.

You shook your head, cheek pressed into your duvet, eyes pinched together in pleasure. "No," You whined, high pitch and airy, just how he liked it.

"Oh, yes you are." Eddie tutted.

"Nuh-uh, I'm not, Eddie, 'M not." You cried, tears flooding your water line when his finger curled, grazing your sensitive spot.

"Are you arguing with me, baby?" Eddie asked, his mouth right by your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of you, hand grasping your hair, pulling you up so you were cheek to cheek with him.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson." Eddie whispered, leaving you shuddering at his words, hot breath tickling your neck. "Need to learn you can't be breaking my rules."

He let you go with a thud, falling back onto the mattress with a small cry. You moved your cheek to the side, hearing him stalk behind you. He picked up your vibrator, flicking it back on, the taunting buzz filling the room, making you throb.

"I'm torn," Eddie sighed, moving so you could see him, veiny hands grasping the buzzing toy. It made your mouth water. "I'm not sure if I should just not let you come, and just keep teasing and teasing you until I'm sure you've learned your lesson." Your heart dropped, lips quivering and whimpering at the threat.

He dramatically sighed again, looking down at the vibrator, examining it carefully in his hands. He was putting on a show, like when he was playing the part of the Dungeon Master or working the crowd at a show. Exaggerated.

"Or," Eddie looked at you, eyes dark and lust blown. "If I should make you cum over and over and over again until you're begging for me to stop."

Your legs clamped, shifting out of position slightly at the threat. Eddie's eyes narrowed, moving so he was behind you again. He bit his lip at the sight, your ass in the air, exposed and aching for him, at his mercy. He was hard, his bulge pressed uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans.

Eddie took the vibrating toy, running it on the inside of your thighs. Your legs quivered, shaking at the touch he was trailing on you. Your breath caught every time he got close to your center, letting the tip of the toy touch just the edge of your lips before trailing back down.

You whined, pathetic. Your body was on fire, on edge with the way he was teasing you. Eddie pressed a hand on your back, pushing your ass up further for him.

"Either way, I think I'll just use this little toy on you." Eddie purred, pressing the vibrator to your folds. You jolted, gasping and writing as it passes over your clit, sending shock of pleasure through your body. "Since you love it so much."

You moaned, loud, pornographic. The kind of moan that Eddie usually only pulled from you when he used his tongue on you, working you open while you tugged on his hair. His brows raised at the reaction, sliding it slowly up and down your slick center, barely pushing it in at your entrance before dragging it back down to your clit.

"Hm, you really do love this, don't you, whore?" Eddie asked, eyes trained on your pussy. You ground your hips closer, fists closing and white knuckled on your back.

Eddie laughed to himself, palming himself through his jeans. You could feel yourself getting closer, toes curling, hips writhing as you gasped, whimpering, moaning closer and closer until...

Your eyes snapped open, the toy removed, pulled back and still buzzing in Eddie's hand. You whipped your head back, eyes wide with shock, betrayal.

Eddie smirked, brow raised. "Oh, baby, you didn't think I'd let you cum that easy, now did you?" He grinned, watching your face crumble slightly, whining and wiggling against the restraints.

"I think I've decided," Eddie started, moving so his knee was propped on your bed, hand pushing the hair out of your face. "I don't think you deserve to cum." You cried out, lips wobbling and pouting. He could've busted right there, your pathetic, begging face. "Not that easily anyway."

He kept you like that for what seemed like hours. Teasing you with your vibrator, expertly toying with you, building up your pleasure, getting you so close just to rip it away, leaving you achy and needy.

You were sobbing, babbling and begging for him to let you cum. Eddie laughed darkly, vibrator pressed firmly against your clit, watching the sweat drip down your hair line, mixing with the tears spilling down your face. Eddie was enjoying himself, hearing you beg and cry, smug that he was the only one who could get you like this.

You felt it coming, closer and closer, you clenched around nothing, screwing your eyes shut. That white hot pleasure was building so close you were dizzy, then, just like that, taken away.

"Please," You choked on a sob, shaky, broken inhales racking your body. "Please, Eddie, I'll be good. I'll be a good girl, I promise."

"Oh? Just like you promised to follow my rules?" Eddie asked, shaking his head. "You're not too good on your word, baby girl."

"Yes, I am." You sobbed, shoulders shaking. "I am!" It was bratty and much more demanding than you meant it to be, but you were tired, and so, so desperate for him.

Eddie raised a brow, turning the soaked vibrator off. It was hot in his hand, the heat from your cunt mixed with the batteries working overtime. He set it next to you, and you sniffled, turning your head away from it.

Eddie grinned. "You sure you're a good girl?" He asked, teasing, mocking. Reaching for his zipper, he pushed down his pants, stepping out of them slowly.

You nodded furiously, eyes round and desperate; submissive. He'd finally gotten you where he wanted you. "Please," You whimpered, lower lip wobbling. Your eyes raked down his skin when he took his shirt off, lingering on his newest piece on his thigh.

Eddie hummed, pulling himself from his boxers before they slid down his legs. He pumped his length in his head, tip angry and red, already oozing pre-cum down the link. You licked your lips.

"I think that you are a good girl, deep, deep down inside." Eddie cooed at you mockingly.

His fingers wrapped around your arms, you'd lost feeling in, and freed them. You didn't get a chance to rub them long, before he had each wrist in his hand, pulling you towards him. You could feel his erection on your tummy, hard and prodding between you two.

"But I think you made a bad, bad choice." Eddie hissed, eyes narrowing. You whimpered when his hands tightened firmly around your wrist. "And you need to make it up to me. Show me you really are a good girl." 

You nodded, standing while he sat on the edge of the bed. You waited obediently, your eyes trained on his, until he opened his legs. You shuffled forward on your knees, eyes finally dropping to his length that was flush up against his tummy.

Eddie nodded at you, and you reached out, pumping the length of him gently, thumb circling his tip, spreading around his spilling seed. Eddie groaned, hips clenching to keep from bucking into your hand. This was your expertise, he'd decided. Using your soft hands and mouth all over him, working him until he was seeing stars. It was even better when you did it as a punishment, desperate and tedious as to make it up to him, regain his approval.

Your soft lips pressed kisses on the underside of his shaft, up and down the vein that was so prominent, down to his balls. You kissed them gently, nuzzling your nose into them, pulling a low groan out of Eddie's throat. He fisted the sheets of your bed, eyes closing and head tipping back.

Finally, you circled the tip of him with your tongue, hand rolling and squeezing his balls lightly, while you moved your head down, stuffing him deeply until your nose touched the hair on his pelvis. You breathed slow and controlled out of your nose, keeping yourself from gagging, swallowing him slowly.

Eddie moaned, ringed hands finding your hair, guiding you as you bobbed on his cock. He was in paradise. Your mouth velvety and wet, tiny gags pulling out of the back of your throat when his length touched it. It had his grip tightening in your hair.

He was embarrassed with how close he was. He'd been hard since the two of you started, cock throbbing and uncomfortable with every orgasm he pulled from you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, easy, baby, easy." Eddie groaned, feeling your lashes on his pelvis, nose nuzzling against him.

He pulled back on your hair, making you release him with a slurp. Eyes round and pleading, drool dripping down your chin. You knew better than to wipe it away, and deprive Eddie of seeing you so ruined.

Eddie smiled, leaning in to swipe at your mouth, spit mixed with his cum, gathering it on his thumb and pressing it into your mouth. You sucked on his finger obediently, eyes still on him.

"Hm," Eddie hummed with a sigh, long exhale out of his nose. "That was really good, baby." He smirked at the way your eyes lit up, posture straightening, his thumb still in your mouth, soft lips suctioning on the digit.

"You think you deserve to cum now?" Eddie asked, cocking his head to the side. "Think you can be a good girl for me? Learned your lesson?"

You nodded eagerly, and Eddie pulled his thumb away. He nodded at you, signaling he wanted a verbal response. "Yes," You said sweetly. You leaned forward, placing your hands on his knee, resting your chin on top of them. "Please? I'll be very good, I promise. I learned my lesson."

Normally, Eddie wouldn't allow you out of position, if it was a different scene. But the way your eyes rounded, begging and pleading, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Eddie couldn't resist.

"Fuck," He breathed, running a hand down your face, cupping your cheek.

Eddie put two fingers under your chin, pushing up until you stood. You started to get on the bed, when he stopped you, a grin on his face. "Nuh-uh, baby," Eddie shook his head. "I think if you want to cum, you gotta do it yourself."

You blinked, confused, before Eddie laid back, propping himself up on your headboard, arms behind his head. You pouted, face falling slightly. You were hoping Eddie would finish you out, pounding into you so hard, you were convinced he was in your brain. Instead, he wanted you to ride him.

Eddie nodded towards his dick. "Don't tell me you're surprised, baby." Eddie laughed, in a tone that made your cheeks heat. "You were such a bad girl, and you expected me to make you cum?" He shook his head, tsking at you.

"No, no, you're doin' the work this time, sweetheart." Eddie grinned at you.

You sighed, climbing onto the bed with shaky legs, straddling your thighs over each of his. The stretch was a little uncomfortable in your groin, but the aching between your legs was worse.

You planted your hands on either side of his shoulders, his hands going to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as you sank down onto his hard length. You whimpered, closing your eyes at the feeling, head tipping back.

You sunk slow until you were filled, his tip hitting your spongey walls making you clench. "Fuck, baby, you keep doin' that 'm not gonna last." Eddie groaned, hands gripping the meat of your ass hard.

You swiveled your hips, grinding into the coarse hair at the base of him for some friction before lifting, slow and calculated. You got into a rhythm, nails digging into his shoulders while his roamed your body, your legs, hips, thighs, ass, waist, grabbing and gripping at anything and everything.

Eddie dropped his head into your neck when you slammed down, rocking your hips in a figure eight pattern that had you both gasping, moaning out. Eddie's hips started thrusting up to meet yours, and by the look on his face, eyes pinched and neck flushed, he was close.

You whimpered when your hips collided, knocking the sensitive spot in you that had you seeing stars. Eddie noticed, hips meeting again with another hard thrust that had you crying out, nails biting down on his shoulders, and velvety wet walls clamping around him. When you lifted up, Eddie's cock was covered in your creamy spend.

Eddie thrusted a few more times up into you, holding your hips up and guiding them back down as you came down from your own high, tired and sloppy against him. Eddie thrusted one final time before you felt the familiar warmth inside you.

Eddie grunted, cursing and groaning out your name, emptying himself inside of you. His orgasm was big, thick ropes shooting out into you, each one deeper and harder than the last. Normally he'd be embarrassed, hiding in your neck and muttering some kind of excuse, but this time he didn't care. It had been a long week for him too.

You collapsed into his chest, his heaving matching yours, kisses stamped along your hair line, hands roaming your sweaty naked bodies. He was still in you, softening with every breath he took in his come down.

"Did s'good for me, baby." Eddie muttered into your hair, clinging you close to him. "Always s'good for me. My good girl."

You flushed with the praise, warmth filling your chest in the post-orgasm glow. Eddie helped you to the shower, the two of you cleaning each other gently, sharing soft touches and kisses that left you giggly and blushing.

Eddie watched you rummage through your drawers, finding him sweatpants and a t-shirt he'd left over. "You still wanna watch a movie?" Eddie asked, shaking his curly ringlets out, rubbing the towel on them.

You nodded, slipping on your panties on still wobbly legs. "If you want to," You looked at him with a smile. "We can order take-out, too, if you want. Taty says the new Chinese place is really good. I've got a coupla menus in the kitchen you can look at, if you want."

Eddie nodded, grabbing your towel out of the floor, tossing it towards your bathroom hamper. You sat down on the bed, hissing before sitting up, moving the sheets to see what you sat on. Your face flushed when you lifted the vibrator, holding it in your hand as you turned to Eddie.

He smirked, arms crossing over his bare, inked chest. "Now, what are you gonna do with that, little lady?" He asked in a drawl that had you giggling and blushing.

You moved towards the bathroom, setting it on the counter. "'M gonna clean it, then it's going away." You batted your eyes at him. "Promise."

Eddie grinned, stalking over to you, resting an arm on the doorway above you. "Maybe we could use it again." Eddie suggested. "I'll use it on you, but in the way you like. Maybe tie you up, blindfold you, and see how many times I can get you to cum. Whatdaya say?"

You blushed, grinning so yours matched his. "I think that sounds like a pretty good night." You winked at him, setting it on the counter and shutting off the light. Eddie followed you down the hall, pinching your ass just to hear you squeal.

"Ya know," You started, hunched into your drawer to get the menus. "Some guys use vibrators too." You had a wicked smile on your face, one that had Eddie's mouth running dry. "Maybe I could use it on you next time."

It was Eddie's turn to blush, running a hand down his face to try to hide it as you slid him the menu, turning to grab him a beer out of the fridge.

A few weeks later, Eddie was back in your apartment, hands tied to your bed post while you worked the purple vibrator on him.

He was beginning to become more and more fond of the toy.

[someforeignband]

there's red & green everywhere (but i'm so blue) WC: 1.8k this is for all the christmas haters who have partners that are christmas lovers

Theoretically, Eddie should hate Christmas. It’s an amalgamation of everything he stands against, from organized religious celebration to conformism to capitalist gift-buying bullshit.

And, it’s not like Steve hates Christmas. It wasn’t like that, he swears it’s not. But, this year he didn’t even bother pulling decorations from storage because he knew his parents weren’t coming home.

And that was that, the garland and tree and mistletoe could stay boxed up in the garage. Steve wouldn’t have to worry about breaking his back to decorate the house. He had a partner that not only loved him, but liked him, so he didn't have to worry about impressing someone with unrealistic expectations of him.

For the first Christmas ever, Steve was without obligations.

Christmas might, for once, not be a massive disappointment if he didn’t spend the next few weeks building up excitement for something that would never happen.

It should’ve all been fine and dandy, should’ve been good. Steve could rest easy knowing there wasn’t anything he had to do in preparation for the holiday season.

But, to Steve’s absolute shock and horror: Eddie Munson loves Christmas.

Eddie loves Christmas in a way that he actually owns a copy of Frank Sinatra's Christmas album on tape and apparently keeps it in his car year round. Eddie loves Christmas in a way that means he has a whole box of recipes reserved just for the Christmas season. He loves Christmas in a way that means that he goes all in, just like he does with anything else Eddie loved.

The Munsons love Christmas in a way that means that Eddie and Wayne have a massive advent calendar that they take time every day to open. The Munsons love Christmas in a way that means that there’s VHS tapes of A Charlie Brown Christmas and It’s A Wonderful Life sitting out just begging to be watched.

Eddie Munson loves Christmas.

So much so, that it pretty much looks like Santa and his Elves exploded all over the northeast corner of Forest Hills Trailer Park.

“Holy shit, Ed,” Steve shakes his head, looking around the trailer in disbelief. “This is crazy.”

“Isn’t it incredible!” Eddie grins, unwrapping another string of multi-colored lights.

“It’s-uh...” Steve stammers, trailing off, sort of dumbfounded by the insane amount of holiday cheer.

Not that he cared that Eddie loved Christmas. It was nice, actually, to see him so excited about something so... normal. Maybe this was a minor re-direction of the current timeline. No biggie.

Except that Steve supposed he’d have to rethink just about everything regarding the upcoming holidays. There’d have to be gift buying, and event planning, and meal prepping, and cleaning, and all of this pressure to do things he's not good at.

He's never been good at holidays, or gifts, or family, or love, or any of that stuff that comes with this time of year.

"Wayne needs some help outside with the lights, he's too old to be up on the ladder." Eddie calls over his shoulder, having migrated across the trailer to top the tree with an angel.

"Do you mind helping him out?"

"Oh-uh... No, no not at all. I got it." Steve murmurs, backing toward the door, still reeling from seeing Eddie like this.

Wayne greets him outside, smiling, nose red from the early December air.

"He's serious?" Is all Steve can say, exasperated, breath fogging up in front of him.

"As a heart attack, son," Wayne shrugs, grinning. "The kid loves Christmas." "Oh, no, yeah," Steve barks out. "I got that much."

"He's a little intense," Wayne chuckles.

"Got that, too," Steve laughs.

"I think he gets that from his momma," Wayne shrugs.

Steve moves toward the pile of lights and begins untangling. He's still in a near-trance, thoughts swirling, trying to figure out what this meant for Eddie, what this meant for their relationship-

"Don't work too hard over there, boy," Wayne chuckles, plugging a string of lights into an extension cord.

"Oh, I wasn't, I'm just-"

"C'mere," Wayne beckons him over, pointing at the painter's ladder leaned up against the side of the trailer. "Eddie'll lose his mind if I get up there." And so they go about hanging lights, and Steve's so focused on the fact that Eddie likes Christmas to even recognize that he was on a rickety old ladder, that it was higher than he was probably comfortable with, or even that it was cold.

Eddie likes Christmas.

He climbs down from the ladder, shoving hands in his pockets, just looking at Wayne, whose brows were furrowed, mouth all tensed up like he was trying not to cough or something.

"All done," Steve offers, brightly, slapping on a smile.

He's trying, alright. But, the imminent Eddie likes Christmas won't stop screaming at him, like it's a box he can't check.

"You okay, son?" Wayne asks, and it's like all the air gets sucked out of Steve's lungs.

"I don't think I can do Christmas like Eddie does," He confesses before he can stop himself, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

Wayne laughs, shaking his head, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Nobody does Christmas the way Eddie does."

Wayne was entirely too unserious for the situation at hand and was obviously not understanding what Steve was saying.

"I've never really liked Christmas," Steve says quietly, like it's a secret, like he's afraid Eddie will hear. "I just don't want to disappoint him."

Wayne stops laughing, blinking a few times. "Oh, Steve, it's not that big'a deal."

"I didn't even plan on getting him a gift, I didn't even know we were celebrating Christmas, I thought he would hate it."

"Steve," Wayne cuts him off, placing his other hand on Steve's shoulder. "Eddie doesn't care about any of that."

Steve shrugs his hands off, shaking his head. "I just wish I would've known so I could better prepare."

"Prepare for what exactly?" Wayne asks, wetting his lips.

"So I'd do all the things he needs me to do to make Christmas special, you know? Ugly sweaters and presents and baked goods and all of that Christmas crap."

Wayne's eyes flicker downwards, like he's thinking something he's not saying.

"You wish you could've better prepared? To what? Pretend to be somebody you're not?"

"Well," Steve groans. "Don't say it like that."

"Son," Wayne sighs, and his hand is back on Steve's shoulder again. "The most important part of Christmas for Eddie is being with the people he loves. You are what makes Christmas special for him."

It takes everything inside Steve to not roll his eyes, it would be like Wayne to give him the 'Christmas is about love and family' bullshit. From the way it looked inside that damn trailer, like the North Pole had suddenly relocated to Hawkins Indiana, Steve had a snowball's chance in hell of making Eddie's Christmas special.

"The most important present Eddie will get this year is you spending Christmas with us," Wayne presses further.

And this time, Steve can't help it. He feels his eyes roll, ever so slightly. He sighs, giving Wayne a defeated shrug because this guy can not be serious. Did they see the same Eddie inside throwing fistfuls of tinsel onto every free surface?

But, before he can get into all of that, the front door to the trailer is slamming open and Eddie's skipping around all excited, looking at the lights.

God, Steve felt like shit.

"Look, kid," Wayne tries one more time, squeezing Steve's shoulder, pulling his attention back to the task at hand. "Eddie loves Christmas because it helps him be close to the people he loves. Don't go off trying to be somebody else for him, that would ruin the whole damn point."

That would ruin the whole damn point.

"They look so good, you guys!" Eddie grins, feet crunching over frozen leaves as he trots over to Steve and Wayne.

"And, I didn't get on the ladder even once," Wayne grins, eyes flicking between Steve and his nephew.

Something in the middle of Steve's chest tugs, painful but good, like rubbing out a sore muscle or itching at a sunburn.

"I wouldn't let him," Steve offers, end of his mouth twitching up into a soft smile.

"I knew I could trust you," Eddie grins, dimples on full display, cheeks already going red from the winter Indiana air.

Wayne waves a hand, feigning frustration, scoffing. "You both act like I'm a sneeze away from the grave. I'm goin' inside."

He storms away, but Steve knew he wasn't actually upset. His shoulders were shaking in silent laughter as he trudged toward the trailer's front door.

The door slams, and Steve feels Eddie's hand just barely grace his own. They stood a respectable distance apart. Steve's hand tingles from the featherlight touch, and his stomach flutters, watching Eddie look over his shoulder at the lights.

"Thanks for helping him," Eddie whispers, eyes bright and full of pure happiness. "He makes me so damn nervous on that stupid ladder."

Steve nods and a gust of wind makes him shiver, cutting right through him. It was damn cold out, and yet he hadn't noticed.

"Come inside, bug," Eddie gives his hand a quick squeeze. "It's gonna start to snow."

Steve looks up, and almost serendipitously a frozen flake hits his nose.

"Oh," He whispers, wiping his forehead.

Eddie giggles, "C'mon, baby. I was gonna make us some cocoa." He pats Steve's arm gently, nodding towards the trailer.

"I even bought a real gallon of milk for it! No powdered shit."

There's that feeling again, like cracking your knuckles or ripping off a bandaid.

The most important present Eddie will get this year is you spending Christmas with us.

Steve sighs, feeling another flake hit his ear, then another, and then another. He looks at the lights he just spent the better part of the last couple hours hanging, a few of them didn't light up fully, blinking dull and slow.

"Coming," He says, feeling the frozen leaves and grass crumbling under his steps. Eddie's holding the door open for him, grinning ear to ear at him like he was the one who put the angel at the top of the tree.

He picks up his pace, knocking his hip against Eddie's as he shuffles through the door of the Munson's trailer.

You are what makes Christmas special for him.

"I love you," Steve breathes, quiet and hesitant, as soon as the front door closes.

It feels weird, the warm lighting, the smell of hot cocoa on the stove, the Frank Sinatra Christmas album playing in the background.

Sunburns heal. Sore muscles get stretched out. Ripping a bandaid off only hurts for a second, and sometimes you have to crack your knuckles, so your fingers will feel better.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Eddie responds easily, without obligation.

For the first Christmas ever, Eddie had Steve. For the first Christmas ever, Steve was without obligation.

[ghostnebula]

I’ll gladly keep the asks coming 😘 Let’s have some Richie comforting hurt Eddie

I think I’m legitimately running out of ways to write this because it’s in almost every single fic I’ve written shjdshsdjkhf

I’m thinking college AU, therefore set somewhere in the 90s, but the Losers stick together through it. Which gives Eddie the opportunity to learn and grow as a person in some ways, but still -- old habits die hard, and old cycles of abuse die harder. In fact, sometimes they return with a vengeance :))))

(haha get it)

Anyway, what Eddie gets right is escaping Derry with his friends, owning his sexuality (albeit tentatively right now), and taking matters involving his health into his own hands. What he gets wrong is steering clear of people who remind him of his mother, but this isn’t entirely his fault, because the resemblances aren’t always obvious, and even then the association tends to be subconscious.

So when he meets this guy who he just can’t stop thinking about, and who dotes on him but in ways that are comforting in their familiarity but not glaringly obvious in their origins/associations, and he seems to... maybe even like Eddie that way, well, Eddie’s fucking gone for him. He doesn’t know why. He wants to be around him, is all. It’s like they’ve known each other forever. Incidentally, he has pretty much known Richie forever, and Richie dotes on him, too, but in ways that aren’t bordering on sinister, and Richie’s head over heels for him, but Eddie’s so accustomed to that kind of stuff that he wouldn’t realize Richie was in love with him if it slapped him across the face. He also doesn’t seem to realize half the reason he’s even chasing after this guy is because he’s trying to get over his feelings for Richie, or at least just find a different outlet for them, because “obviously” it’s never going to happen.

He’s less than a week from risking it all and just asking this dude from his program out on a date when this guy (let’s call him idk Curtis or smth) asks Eddie out, and Eddie’s fucking elated. He’s on cloud nine. He has a fucking boyfriend. “A boyfriend, Bill, can you believe that? Someone who actually wants to date me!” (Poor Bill’s ready to fucking explode, he’s just nodding along like, holy fuck oh my god how are you this oblivious oh my god I can picture another person who’d saw off their arm to date you pretty fucking easily to be honest.

Things with Curtis are fantastic for the first couple months, and then once -- about 3 months in -- Eddie has this weird fleeting thought that Curtis... kind of reminds him of his mother, sometimes. Funny, huh? Maybe it’s just that he’s so insistent on doing everything for Eddie, which is just him being a gentleman, obviously. Then there’s that time Curtis cries for a fifteen minute car ride because Eddie chose to spend the afternoon studying in the library with his friends instead of with him, and he was so lonely, and “You don’t hate me, do you? It makes me feel like you hate me when you put me on the back burner.” And, of course, Curtis asks him to move in with him, in his apartment just off campus, which means he’s not rooming with Richie anymore. It feels weird and almost awful the first few nights, but he gets over it because Curtis would be offended if he thought Eddie might like Richie (or any of his friends) more than he likes his own boyfriend.

By the time they’ve been dating for a year, Eddie’s lucky to see the Losers more than once a month outside of classes or grabbing a quick meal on campus, but he’s always so grateful when Curtis lets him spend time with them. And Curtis is (usually) so nice, and he’s always taking care of Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t even need to have a job anymore because Curtis pays for everything, anyway, and insists on never letting Eddie spend a cent, which is just so nice, right? Isn’t that lovely of him? In fact, Eddie doesn’t even need to be bothered with money at all, because Curtis handles it all. 

Bev tries to tell him, while they’re waiting in line for coffee before class one morning, that she doesn’t like the way Curtis treats him, and Eddie snaps at her. He doesn’t know where it came from, or why he felt the need to be so defensive, and after he storms off he feels so terrible about the whole thing he doesn’t know what to do. He tells Curtis first thing when he sees him that afternoon, because there’s guilt weighing in his chest about it, and Curtis spends the whole evening pampering him and telling him how much he loves him and how one day, if ever it’s possible, he’s going to marry him. “Don’t you see what they’re doing, Eddie? They’re trying to sabotage our relationship. They think we’re disgusting. They think we’re sinners. They won’t say it out loud, but they’re going to try to ruin us because they can’t stand what we have. You just have to ignore them, okay? Don’t let them ruin this for us.” Of course Eddie believes him. That makes sense. Of course it does. He must be stupid for not realizing that earlier.

But as with all things doomed from the start, there’s a breaking point, and it’s the day Curtis has the gall to actually hurt Eddie. Not in a little way, like he sometimes does when they argue, or how he’s been pushing him to eat less and less because he’s “put on some weight,” or the way he’s been carefully manufacturing comments and insults to keep him down, keep him doubting himself, which in the end is just as bad as any physical hurt, isn’t it?

Eddie’s late coming home from school because he ran into Mike outside the library and they sat down to chat, and he lost track of the time, and there’s a cold feeling in his gut when he gets home and Curtis doesn’t look up from the television as he asks, “Where have you been? Your class ended over an hour ago.”

And Eddie knows, he knows they’re trying to sabotage his relationship, Curtis told him so, but part of him just doesn’t want to believe that, and Mike seemed so sincere. He never once made any kind of negative comment about Eddie’s love life. The most he’d done was ask how Curtis was faring. That was as much as it was even mentioned. So he tells the truth, and Curtis still isn’t looking at him in the few moments of quiet that stretch between them, or when he says, “Come here.”

Eddie obeys. He always does, after all. Curtis grabs his arm too hard and it hurts but he bites his lip because he should have known better, after all, and he’s stupid, and that was stupid of him, and what if Mike is just out to get them? 

“Do you want to fuck this up? Do you want them to take you away from me?” he demands, face contorted by his anger, and Eddie shakes his head. He can feel tears burning at his eyes but he fights them because Curtis told him he’s a crybaby and no one likes a crybaby -- he doesn’t want to make him more angry. 

“No,” he tries to insist. “I just--” But he doesn’t get a chance to finish because Curtis’s free hand connects with his cheek hard enough to snap his head to the side, and the tears overflow even though he really really doesn’t want them to, as he stands there, stunned, mouth agape, cheek stinging. “What the fuck?” he’s demanding, and Curtis is yanking on his arm to drag him closer, holding so tight he’s almost worried the bones might snap.

“Sometimes I think you don’t love me at all, you know that? Sometimes I think you’re just fucking mooching, and you don’t give a shit if I feel valued or not.”

Eddie would normally defend himself. Tell Curtis that isn’t true, that he does love him, that he shows him that every day, to the best of his ability. That he’s given himself over to him completely, and isn’t that proof enough that he loves him? Except right now, he can’t remember exactly what it is that he “loves” about this man.

The arm Curtis isn’t crushing in his grip reels back and Eddie smashes his fist into Curtis’s nose and he knows, in that moment, there’s no salvaging any of this, and wonders how he ever even cared. In his shock and pain, Curtis lets go of him, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to get the fuck out of there.

He’s definitely crying when he shows up outside Stan and Richie’s dorm, and he’s trying to stop it because he doesn’t want them to be mad when they see him (because he’s an annoying fucking crybaby, isn’t that right?) but he’s knocking before he’s able to compose himself because he can’t fucking compose himself. He’s shaking and he ruined it but, really, isn’t that for the best? When was the last time he was truly happy with Curtis? The shaking won’t stop anyway, and he can feel anxiety building in his gut, making his stomach twist, because he has nothing now. He’s just gone and completely fucked himself over, and the rest of the Losers, well... they probably barely consider him a friend anymore, or if anything they probably think he’s a shit one, and this was a bad idea. Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, because he’s imagining Stan sneering down at him and demanding to know why the fuck he thought they’d help him when he hasn’t been bothered with them in months, or Richie scoffing and telling him maybe if he wanted help so bad he could go ask his boyfriend, and--

The door swings open and Stan’s eyes go wide, and Eddie can’t get the words out, and he knows he isn’t having an asthma attack but this feels like an asthma attack. “Richie!” Stan is calling, but Richie’s already leaping up from his bed because he caught sight of Eddie through the gap in the door, and besides, he’d know that wheezing anywhere. Stan barely moves out of the way in time to avoid being bowled over. Richie freezes, though, halfway to grabbing Eddie to drag him into a hug, not sure that he’s alright with that (didn’t he always used to be?) and not sure what the fuck is wrong, but there’s a red mark on his cheek that’s pretty telling, anyway.

Eddie’s the one who surges forward first and wraps Richie up in a hug, because he needs it, and because Richie looks stricken, and Eddie knows somewhere deep down that Richie would never hate him. He’s always known Richie could never hate him. He has to repeat it to himself, like a mantra, as Richie awkwardly tries to shuffle back into the room with Eddie latched around his waist, but Eddie’s scared to let go. “Please don’t be mad,” he says, not quite meeting Richie’s eyes.

Everything he’s done in the last year has been so fucking stupid and he’s a fucking idiot and he’s well aware of that, so everyone else must be, too. So he excuses his behaviour with, “I just thought he loved me.” Maybe, in some way, Curtis does love him, but not the way that Eddie wants or needs to be loved, and he just wasn’t smart enough to see it before. He can barely wrap his mind around it now. But his cheek is throbbing where Curtis landed a pretty fucking solid blow, and his arm aches with the beginnings of a bruise, and he’s tired and hungry and miserable and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt less loved.

Richie, though -- Richie helps. Richie makes him feel better just by being here. By not letting go of him as they settle onto the bed, lying on their sides. Probably because he can tell how much Eddie can’t stand the idea of letting go right now. Stan brings them ice wrapped in a cloth from the kitchens and Richie holds it to his cheek for him and wipes the tears away and Eddie apologizes, over and over, until Richie tells him to stop. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Eds. Okay? You’ve got nothing to be sorry about.”

Stan whispers something to Richie as he’s pulling on his shoes, and Richie nods, eyes flickering up to look at him, but then he’s looking at Eddie again as the door clicks shut behind Stan. 

“I’m just glad you came here. I really am. You know we’ve got your back, right? Whatever you need. We’re here for you.” Richie’s gone all soft, eyes shining, his hand resting on Eddie’s cheek even though he isn’t trying to dry his tears anymore. His glasses sit at an angle on his face, one side pressed to the pillow, and it would probably be funny if Eddie weren’t so goddamn miserable right now.

“I gave him everything,” he says, through the thick feeling of tears blocking his throat. “I... I just thought he loved me.”

(That softness in Richie disappears for a second -- so brief Eddie’s immediately wondering if he might have imagined it -- to be replaced by something hot and fierce and pissed, like he could burn cities to the ground if so inclined, and inclined he is.)

A tear finally slips out of Richie’s eye and runs sideways down his face to soak into the pillow. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. We’re here for you. We love you, you know that, right?”

He should. He can’t believe he’d ever doubted it, but something (Curtis) had him doubting. It’s hard to believe Richie doesn’t love him when they’re lying here like this, and harder to believe he ever thought Richie might turn him away. And as for the other Losers... well, he can only hope they’ll forgive him, in time.

He doesn’t answer because he isn’t sure how to explain that, but he’s sure that he fucked up, in some capacity, and that the love the Losers have for him isn’t completely unconditional. Right? Or is that something Curtis wants him to believe? He bites down on his lip so hard it bleeds but he starts crying all over again, anyway.

The door slams open and Bill is there, Stan behind him with Mike in tow. They file inside just as Bev and Ben come thundering up the corridor behind them, and then the mattress is shifting and dipping as several more bodies pile on around them, and somewhere he hears Stan snap at Bill to, “Take your damn shoes off, you animal,” and Richie, close above him, retorts, “Who the fuck cares? I wear my shoes in bed all the time.”

“Animals,” Stan repeats, climbing over them to sit against the headboard and pull Eddie’s head into his lap. He takes the melting ice from Richie to hold against Eddie’s cheek, which is still swelling despite their best efforts. 

“Sorry,” Eddie says, when Stan tsks and shakes his head after examining it for a second, and several voices at once are telling him, “You have nothing to apologize for,” and “We love you,” and Richie smiles at him, albeit tremulously, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Eddie hides his face in his hands because he can’t stop fucking crying but now it’s because he’s so fucking happy. Happy to be back with his friends and to know beyond any doubt that they do love him and it is unconditional and he might just be okay, after all.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

Ace of Spades

So happy to finally be posting this Six of Crows multichapter fic for the Grishaverse Big Bang! Thank you so much to @corpsecro​ for the beautiful cover art! See end for author’s notes.

Summary: Two years since the events of Crooked Kingdom, the Crows are back and better than ever (or barely holding themselves together) in a swashbuckling hunt across oceans that leads them to legendary catacombs, a secret society, creatures of myth and whimsy, and- if everything goes as planned- a long lost treasure.

POV: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, The Lilia (OC)

Chapter 1- Whiskey in a Teacup 

Seventeen months. It’d been seventeen months since Kaz Brekker watched The Wraith set sail.

He’d watched her go. Stood on the docks as the sun painted the horizon a brilliant smear of papaya, then a blush of lilac and rose, to a bruised star-speckled blue. He’d watched that far-off, distant thing that was once a ship and so much more, as it faded to a small smudge in the crease between sea and sky.

Then he’d taken the long way back to the Slat.

After that, it was business as usual. There was work to be done. In seventeen months he’d built an empire in this wretched, glorious town. Though, it had really been more like eight.

The other nine months he’d spent spending—he was positively swimming in kruge. Half the time he didn’t know what to do with all of it. There was no way to spend that kind of money responsibly.

“So spend it irresponsibly,” Jesper had suggested. “You’re the newly crowned King of the Barrel. These are your days of golden enthronement.”

And it had been fun for a while—being the big gang boss of the Barrel, owner of nearly every successful gambling den in Ketterdam, raking in the kruge every night and never worrying because there would always be more.

Kaz couldn’t help but notice that lately, however, most of his time was consumed by the golden contents of a bottle—and that conceivably, the closest thing he had to a golden throne these days was the aureate tub he now slumped in.

Alas, all newness went stale eventually. As it happened, Kaz Brekker was bored out of his mind. 

And his bath was going cold.

With a toe, he spun one of the faucet nozzles. A steady stream of hot water flowed into the tub with a hiss. He sank back, submerging his shoulders under the water’s rosy surface.

He was the kind of bored that made shooting himself in the kneecap seem appealing, if only for the purpose of forcing something interesting out of what had become a very mundane procession of days. The kind of bored that even baths and bubbles and teacups full of whiskey could not fix.

Kaz swirled the finger of amber liquid at the bottom of his cup. It sloshed up onto the porcelain sides and he thought about how much the colour resembled her eyes in a shaft of sunlight.

Then he shook his head. Ludicrous. Categorically asinine.

Here he was, Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel made Barrel Boss, a veritable King of Ketterdam; and he was sketching metaphors in his head for the colour of a girl’s eyes. A girl who was long gone, and indefinitely so.

Be all this as it may, he was also neck-deep in drink and pastel bubbles, so perhaps that was about right.

Not just any girl, he reminded himself, taking another sip of his drink.

She’d assured him she’d come back. And though he knew she would in due course, he had insisted she take all the time she needed to right what had been so very wrong for such a long time.

“Make them fear your name so much they daren’t even whisper it,” he’d told her before she left. “Make them pay, Inej.”

From what he’d heard, she’d lived up to that. Surpassed it, even. Slaughterer of Slavers, they called her. Vengeance of the Sea. What he would have paid to watch her burn their ships to ashes.

Kaz smiled at his teacup.

He looked to the night sky through the wavy glass of the window beside him, raised his makeshift glass to the distorted moon perched on the city skyline, and knocked back the remainder of his drink.

It was funny. He swore he felt the whisper of her presence on the wind with that burning swig. He loosed a chuckle. He was either imagining things or he was much drunker than he thought he was.

For Kaz had not felt the familiar rise of gooseflesh on the back of his neck—usually the first indicator of his Wraith’s presence—in a long while. And as he was most certain he’d be the first to hear of a particular ship making port in the harbour, he doubted it was anything but the ghost of a memory.

Yet, the tingle skittering across his scalp, the keen alertness pricking his senses to life, continued to be the most real thing in that tub.

Definitely drunk, Kaz thought and poured himself another knuckle of whiskey.

The bottle on the service cart next to the bath was old—one he’d been saving for a special occasion. He supposed tonight was just as special as any. In fact, the past four nights had been. He’d made his way through half the bottle, toasting the moon and the stars and whatever else lay around the bathroom as he sat in the tub every evening. They were all the same these days, either way.

“What shall we toast to?” Kaz mumbled to the cloud of pink bubbles eddying near his chest. He swirled the whiskey in his teacup. 

Perhaps he should toast the pistol lying next to the half-empty bottle. It was the only promise of excitement in the room. 

The breeze felt nice. A cool lick of air over the slowly heating bath—

Kaz looked up. Air from where? 

He was sure he’d shut the windows in the adjoining bedroom. Suddenly, his stupor washed away like water down the drain. He glanced at the pistol again, debating whether to get out of the tub and investigate or if he could risk waiting for his assailant in the warm cocoon of water. 

“I’d say to the pursuit of kruge,” a silky voice murmured from behind him. “But it looks like you’ve already got that covered.”

His heart stopped. He didn’t know whether he’d pass out or vomit, but either one might be likely considering the haze of whiskey he struggled to clear from his mind.

He turned to face the source of that familiar voice.

There, perched on the edge of the granite sink top like she’d been there all this time, was someone he hadn’t seen in seventeen months. Kaz couldn’t help the slow smile that crept across his face. 

“Hello, Inej,” he drawled.

“Hello, Kaz,” she said. 

He could have sworn the whole world shimmered when she smiled at him, though he wasn’t entirely certain she was truly here. He could have very well fallen asleep in the bathtub, and he would be none the wiser. Yes, this was all likely a drunken fever dream. His dreams did tend to torment him sometimes.

Nonetheless, he raised a brow and said, “Fancy meeting you here. In my bathroom. While I’m… bathing.”

If she blushed, Kaz could not see it in the golden glow of the bathroom lights. Perhaps the long months of travel and hard battle on the high seas had hardened her to such taunting that would have before made her cheeks stain red like a handful of pomegranate seeds.

In fact, he’d be shocked if she’d come back without a single jagged edge, though he couldn’t tell if that was the reason she held his gaze now, or the fact that he hadn’t delivered the line as smoothly as he would’ve liked. He couldn’t muster up enough wherewithal to care at the moment. Bubbles were really quite fascinating.

The corner of her mouth tilted up. “You were taking too long.”

“I like to soak.”

“I can see that.” Laughter gleamed in her eyes. Those eyes. And suddenly he did not care if this was a cruel figment of his imagination. He’d gladly play along.

Inej eyed the water. “Bubbles?” she asked with a bemused expression.

Kaz shrugged. “One of the more exciting facets of my life these days.”

“Things slow at the Crow Club then?”

“Slow at the Crow Club, slow with the Dregs.” He dipped his index finger in the mass of bubbles and came out with a small dollop which he blew into the air. They floated down like tiny, iridescent snowflakes. “Turns out, when everyone fears crossing you, nothing interesting ever happens.”

“One would think you’d be happy about that,” she said.

Kaz merely hummed noncommittally. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “One would think.”

“You’re not, though.”

He gave her a long look. “Would you be?”

“I’d be happy if I never had to worry,” she said, then knitted her brows. “Is the water pink?”

He smiled lazily. “Courtesy of Jesper. He took up a hobby.”

“Making bath products?”

Kaz nodded. “Soaps, bath fizzers, liquid bubbles, that sort of thing. The Dregs of the Bath, he called it. A business venture. It… did not end well.”

The corners of Inej’s mouth curled, eyes glittering mirthful delight—as if every possible consequence of Jesper and a hoard of perfumes and dyes reeled before her eyes in a resplendent carousel of disastrous hilarity.

This made Kaz very dizzy. Which was ridiculous, of course. It was her carousel. He sat up straighter and decided to stare very hard at a spot on the mirror beside her head.

“What happened?” Inej asked, and Kaz realised he had not offered her an explanation to his ominous statement.

The Dregs of the Bath had actually been a fairly successful business venture for a time. Jesper was good at dreaming up fantastical innovations and scent combinations so wondrous, it surprised Kaz for how much he didn’t mind them. For all of about three weeks, his friend had certainly given even the more established toiletry retailers of Ketterdam a run for their money.

The side effects of production, however…

Kaz remembered the way Jesper had shown up to the Crow Club for nearly a month sporting dark splotches of dye up to his elbows. He’d thought it amusing at first.

Half of the Dregs were covered head to toe in ink anyway, and Kaz didn’t enforce a dress code. Frankly, he didn’t care what any of the Dregs looked like as long as they did their jobs. That is, until the patrons had started whispering something about a plague.

Then, of course, Kaz had immediately grabbed Jesper by the back of his suspenders and hauled him to the nearest sink in the kitchens.

“It won’t come off,” Jesper had groused, scrubbing furiously at his forearms.

“Then I would recommend gloves,” he’d said dryly to his friend. “They make for quite the statement piece. I can loan you a pair.”

Once the dye had all but faded, there was still the matter of the smell, which wasn’t exactly bad so much as it was a little overwhelming. The problem with making your own scented bath products, it seemed, was that the aromas clung to every perceivable surface, and spread like an autumn breeze through a dale.

This was fine when Jesper had only been making one inoffensive citrus-scented bar soap. He’d smelled like a fruit basket for days, and made the entire club give off the impression that it was immaculately clean when Kaz knew it was surely not.

But one innocent fragrance had quickly become a cloud of five, and then an assault of ten.

Soon, every dweller from the Financial District to the Barrel had learned that if you could smell the aromas of the Van Eck manor (which had more than once been mistaken for a perfumery by tourists in those sundry weeks), it was already too late. You, too, would be wrapped in the cloying fragrance cocoon of a fruit basket inside a florist inside a bakery inside a tannery in the heart of a very dense forest.

Kaz had not mentioned it to Jesper, however; and one day, the smell had simply vanished. Jesper, in turn, had not mentioned anything to Kaz. They’d been seeing less and less of each other lately.

He supposed that was just how things went. Jesper had Wylan, and Wylan made his friend very happy. He couldn’t complain about that.

Besides, Kaz had… well, he had lots and lots of baths. And whiskey. And more kruge than he could ever possibly need. And…

A breeze floated in through the open window in the bedroom.

Kaz looked at Inej. There was a small part of him that still doubted her really being here. But then, the draft blew a lock of her crow dark hair loose from its braid—and when it fluttered a caress against her cheek, Kaz knew.

He might be skilled at plotting impossible schemes, but his imagination was not so creative and vivid as this. Especially not half-seas over.

Inej still sat on the countertop, reclined against the mirror, feet dangling over the edge. She eyed him in amusement. Probably mild concern, too, though he couldn’t focus through the steam and his whiskey muddled mind enough to tell.

“He got bored,” Kaz finally said with a shrug. “Moved on to something else. Made his own ale for a while. Regardless, there’s a closet full of bath fizzers of every smell and colour at the Van Eck manor, should you desire spicing up your bath experience.”

Inej laughed. That laugh. And Kaz’s eyes went wide and sober for five whole seconds before the glaze of alcohol and warm water slipped back over his senses.

He leaned back in the tub again. A wave of water sloshed over the side, hitting the tile floor with a splash.

“I think I’ll stick to regular baths for the time being,” she said.

At that, Kaz could think of no response. So he said nothing, but hummed and sank down further into the water.

“Why are you here, Wraith?” he asked when a moment had passed.

Inej’s eyes glinted something mischievous. “I have a proposal.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎

AN: Thanks so much for reading, everyone! And a massive thank you to The Serrated Spades, the team of creators, editors, and beta readers who’ve been working with me these past few months to create something really special for @grishaversebigbang​ !! 

Check out @6crowgang​ ‘s GORGEOUS comic strip for this chapter!

Thanks so much again to @corpsecro​ for this absolute masterpiece of cover art! (GUYS. It moves!!!)

Get a sneak peek of heist planning (ft. an OC of mine) in this beautiful piece by @fishmaid​ !

This swashbuckling mood board by @ravenclawsandbeak​ sets the vibe just right!

More chapters to come soon- if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, just shoot me a message/ask 🖤💫

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Tag List: @velarhysismine​ @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte​ @knifewifejude​

[inawickedlittletown]

Puzzle Pieces (one-shot)

Summary: Valentine’s Day goes wrong - Buddietines Week Day 5.

Surprised by Eddie asking what he’s doing for Valentine’s Day, Buck doesn’t expect it to be because Eddie has a date and needs someone to watch Christopher. 

Ship: Buck/Eddie

Words: 5,146

Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day! 

This fic was sort of supposed to fit the blind date prompt but since the blind date wasn’t buddie, I liked the idea of it fitting in with the Valentine’s Day goes wrong prompt instead. At the time when I was writing this I also only intended to write one Valentine’s Day fic and figured that posting on actual Valentine’s Day felt right. (I have now written fics to fic the budditines prompts for Saturday and Sunday so...) Anyway, enjoy.

Read on Ao3 

------

Valentine’s Day was coming up. It had been coming up since the beginning of the year since apparently every store he stepped foot into went from Christmas things to Valentine’s Day things practically overnight. It was all really ridiculous. The last time that Buck celebrated Valentine’s Day was with Abby on what could probably be described as the worst date that he’d ever been on. He’d ended up at the hospital. Because that was how most things tended to end for Buck. 

Maddie was excited for this one, though. She and Chimney were doing really well. Buck was happy for the two of them. They both absolutely deserved each other in the best way possible and Buck was happy that they were excited for the holiday. 

Hen was planning something for Karen that she was excited about. Buck liked seeing Hen looking happier. After everything with the IVF not going well and then the incident with the ambulance, Buck was glad to see that they were doing a lot better. 

Even Bobby had plans for some sort of romantic getaway with Athena. 

The only one that didn’t seem thrilled or interested in Valentine’s Day was Eddie. But then, Eddie had lost his wife not even a year ago that the holiday meant for lovers really wasn’t going to do much to interest him. 

Buck for his part had plans to stay home and watch something action packed or maybe more cooking shows and his heart would be safe in the knowledge that Eddie wasn’t out on a date or getting someone chocolate and flowers but that he was probably with Christopher. A part of him was even considering asking Eddie if he could join him and Christopher for the night. They could do video games or movies and junk food that they shouldn’t really be eating. It would be fun. 

So, when February 14th was a week away, the last thing Buck expected was for Eddie to nudge his shoulder when they were leaving the locker room. 

“What’s up?”

“So, I have a favor to ask,” Eddie said. 

“Sure, man. Anything.”

Eddie nodded. “I just wanted to know if you were doing anything on the 14th?”

Buck felt like his heart stopped. “Uh. Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, Buck.”

“Uh. No. No plans.” Buck didn’t know what to think. His mind was reeling with possibilities, scenario after scenario popping into his head while he waited for Eddie to continue because he couldn’t believe that Eddie was asking him about Valentine’s day almost like he was gearing up to ask Buck out and...and Buck hadn’t even considered the possibility that Eddie might see him that way. 

“Oh. Good. Good. It’s just I needed someone to watch Christopher. I don’t want to bother Carla when she has plans with her husband and Abuela is out of town and I actually kind of figured you’d be busy but since you’re not then—” 

Eddie was rambling but Buck barely heard any of it because his disappointment drowned it out. Eddie had plans. He had plans with someone and he needed Buck to watch his son. That’s what Buck was good for. And it was fine. It was absolutely fine. It was just that for a small moment Buck had thought that it was something else and that Eddie wanted something else. But no, he just wanted a babysitter. And really, Buck, was pretty sure that Eddie was straight. He really had to stop letting himself get his hopes up. It would only lead to a broken heart. 

“Well you can let Christopher know that he has a date,” Buck said and he plastered on a smile. 

Eddie was grinning. He bumped Buck’s shoulder. “Thanks, Buck. You’re the best.”

“No problem,” Buck said and it wasn’t. He loved getting to spend time with Christopher. He just...on Valentine’s Day he may have wanted to spend time with Eddie more. Except that it was clear that Eddie just didn’t want to spend it with Buck. 

Eddie didn’t tell him about his date or about his plans for Valentine’s Day and Buck didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know. It was easier to not know because then he could pretend that it was fine and that it would be just another ordinary day watching Christopher. One of Buck’s favorite things to do. He loved that kid so much. 

Except that then, when Eddie arrived at his apartment to drop off Christopher, he was dressed like he was going on a date and Buck stood a bit floored by the door and only came out of his stupor when Christopher wrapped his arms around his middle. 

“Hi, Buck.”

“Hey, kid,” Buck said and then ushered him inside. “Come on, we have a lot to do tonight. Go get set up on the couch. I’ll be right there.”

Eddie had stepped inside too and the door was closed behind him. 

“There’s coloring books in his backpack and a few toys. It really shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours. Thanks a lot, Buck. I owe you one.”

Eddie ran over to hug and kiss Chris and then he was on his way before Buck could say anything else. 

—-

Eddie had three sisters. Two older and one younger. They were all the most annoying, nosy people that he had ever known. Abuela had always called them “metidas” and “chismosas” and Eddie had always thought that it was funny until he found himself the subject of their nosiness and meddling. 

[nosy and gossips]

It had started all the way back when Shannon left him and Christopher. His oldest sister, Julia, had been the one to start hinting at him moving on. Then, the second oldest, Viviana, had actually gone and made him a dating profile set to interested in men and women. His younger sister, Emilia, had started chatting up people for him as him on the dating profile. The whole thing was one giant mess. And once he found out and shut it down, they stopped mentioning him moving on for a while until they started just talking to their friends or friends of friends about him and that was somehow worse especially when he happened to run into them and they were all practically throwing themselves at him even in front of Christopher. 

Eddie would be lying if moving to California hadn’t been a little in part to get away from his sisters. There were other factors too, of course. The fire department was one, and the second Shannon. 

That was the thing that his sisters had never understood. She left him...but it didn’t stop him from loving her and from not wanting to move on. Even when he hated her too. And maybe even when she didn’t even want him. It was complicated in a way that they didn’t want to understand. 

The thing was that his family never liked Shannon. It was lowkey dislike, but it was dislike nonetheless and then it had become full on dislike after she took off, Eddie couldn’t blame them. 

When he first contacted Shannon once it was clear he needed her for Christopher’s school, he didn’t tell anyone in the family but his Abuela. It was just easier. Better. He also, absolutely didn’t tell them about Buck. 

Eddie had never met anyone like Buck. He was one of the kindest, most selfless people that he knew. Someone that was loyal to a fault and that Eddie was very glad to have in his corner. He was also stupidly attractive and despite the initial animosity, Buck caught Eddie’s eye from the very first moment he saw him. Buck took his breath away. Buck was also very very much not an option and hadn’t been right from the start. And then, things had gotten complicated with Shannon and then Buck was injured and suing the department and it felt like too many things had happened for anything to spark between them even though sometimes, Eddie could swear that Buck’s eyes lingered on him for just a tad too long. 

It was hard not to have a huge and glaring crush on Buck when Buck took care of Christopher and went out of his way to make sure that Christopher was happy. Buck was easy to love. 

And it was entirely a mistake when Eddie told Viviana that he had a crush on a straight man. 

“Which means, you’re ready to date again! Oh, Eddie, we’ve been waiting for this. And just in time for Valentine’s day.”

That was how Eddie wound up with an arranged blind date. His sisters had told him nothing. Not a name, not the gender, not even personality traits. Just that he had a date for Valentine’s Day and that he better not even consider cancelling or not showing up. 

“Because it’s rude, Eddie,” Emilia had said over the phone. “That’s why you can’t just stand them up. Be a man. It’s a date, we’re not asking you to go off and marry them. You’ve done that already and look how it turned out.”

So maybe he and Shannon hadn’t dated long before they got married — prompted by her pregnancy — but it wasn’t the reason that they hadn’t ended up working. Things may have gone fast, but they had definitely loved each other. That’s why it hurt so much. 

His sisters had managed to keep the date secret up until a week before Valentine’s Day. It was lucky that he didn’t have a shift. A part of him almost believed that that wasn’t any kind of coincidence but he would never be able to prove it and he was stuck going on the date anyway. 

Eddie had tried arguing that there was no one to watch Christopher but when Julia offered to fly out specifically to babysit, Eddie told her he’d figure it out. Abuela was out of town and Pepa wasn’t an option either and Eddie knew Carla had plans which left him with the option of asking the one person that he hoped didn’t have any Valentine’s Day plans: Buck. And Buck, he was more than happy to watch Christopher. He didn’t have plans! It almost made Eddie ask him out instead if only to have a good reason for skipping on the blind date. But, Eddie was a coward and he wasn’t going to endanger their friendship that way. 

Eddie got ready while on facetime with his sisters, each of them popping in and out to judge his clothes and his hair and trying to give him tips that often contradicted each other. Christopher kept asking why Eddie wasn’t going to hang out with him and Buck if he didn’t have work and Eddie didn’t want to explain it all so he let Viviana do it for him. It was the least she could do after all the trouble he was going to to go on a date he didn’t even want. 

When Buck opened the door, Eddie was surprised by the way that Buck just stopped and looked at him and for a small moment, Eddie felt like maybe Buck was checking him out but he couldn’t be sure. 

Christopher rushed forward and hugged Buck. It looked a little awkward what with the crutches, but Christopher was used to them and so was Buck. 

“Hi, Buck,” Christopher said. 

“Hey, kid,” Buck said, smiling at Christopher with so much warmth. “Come on, we have a lot to do tonight. Go get set up on the couch. I’ll be right there.”

Eddie stepped in after them and closed the door behind him. He longed to stay there with them, to join in on whatever Buck had planned for Christopher and to forget all about the night ahead of him. Staying in with Buck and Chris was the thing he wanted the most. He didn’t want a date with some stranger. He wanted them. 

“There’s coloring books in his backpack and a few toys,” Eddie said. “It really shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours.” He was hoping it wouldn’t exceed that anyway. “Thanks a lot, Buck. I owe you one.”

Eddie ran over to hug and kiss Chris goodbye even if his son barely wrapped his arms around him, already too focused on whatever he’d put on the tv. He waved when he was at the door and left. He regretted it the moment the door closed behind him. 

“Damn sisters.”

As he got into his car, he opened their group chat. One of them had named it “At Least Let’s Get Edmundo Laid” because they were just the worst. He texted them his annoyance but still drove to the restaurant where he was supposed to meet his date. The reservation had been made under Eddie’s name by one of his sisters and his date would be there waiting for him. 

Eddie was nervous and a tad annoyed and mostly he hoped whoever it was wasn’t a psychopath.

—-

“Daddy’s going on a date,” Christopher informed him. 

“Yes, I kinda gathered that for myself, kiddo,” Buck said. 

They were doing a puzzle. It was 300 pieces and featured Lady and the Tramp. Christopher had been excited the moment that Buck brought it out. The pieces weren’t too small and Buck was enjoying how much Christopher seemed to love the challenge of finding the right pieces that fit together. 

“Yeah,” Christopher said. “My aunts kind of made him.”

“They made him?” Buck asked. 

That was a twist he didn’t expect. Buck hadn’t heard much about Eddie’s sisters, other than to know that they existed and that Eddie liked the distance he had from them living all the way in LA while they were in Texas. 

“Oh, look, Buck! These go together!” 

Buck grinned and reached over to ruffle Christopher’s hair. 

“Kind of like...like me and you, you know,” Christopher said. “We go together too.”

Buck couldn’t help but chuckle at that. This kid...he was perfect and Buck really and truly loved him. 

“I guess so, Christopher,” Buck said.

It was hard to not be in the moment when Christopher was with him. As curious as he was about Eddie’s date and as much as it bothered him that Eddie was on a date at all, Christopher made for an excellent distraction. 

Christopher kept playing with the puzzle and Buck mostly just watched him, high fiving him every time that he managed to get two pieces together. 

“Buck,” Christopher said eventually. 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“You know you and daddy fit together too,” Christopher said and he was tipping his head to one side and grinning at Buck. 

“He is my best friend,” Buck said. But boy did he wish they were more.

“No. Not like friends. Like more,” Christopher said. 

“I don’t know about that, bud. Anyway, pizza for dinner?” 

“Yes, Buck.” Chris said.

Buck chuckled and he went to grab his phone. He was surprised to see a text from Eddie. 

How’s it going? You guys doing alright?

—-

His name was Neal. His hair was dark and slicked back and he was moderately handsome. He also had no sense of humor and was just a little bit self-obsessed. Or, at least, he liked to hear himself talk and he certainly liked to talk about himself. And his sisters had expected him to get along with this guy? To want a second date? He barely wanted to get through this first one. 

At one point, Eddie excused himself to the bathroom and he texted them nothing more than a bunch of question marks. None of his sisters responded. So, then, he texted Buck. Checking in on them because that was what a father did. And maybe because he was wishing that he was with them instead. 

Buck didn’t respond at once and when he did it was a thumbs up emoji and Eddie didn’t think that he could start up a conversation with him while he was on his date. He’d been gone too long as it was, so Eddie went back out and Neal smiled when he returned. 

“You were gone a while. Everything okay?”

“Oh. Um, I had to check in with my friend. He’s watching my son.”

Apparently, that was not something Neal had been expecting. Then again, he’d barely allowed Eddie to get a word in edgewise. 

Neal’s face fell into a deep frown. “You have a son,” he said. 

Eddie nodded. “I do. Did my sisters fail to mention their nephew?”

From the look of him it was clear that they had. Because they probably thought that that wasn’t relevant information. They didn’t get it. Christopher needed to be first and foremost and if he was going to start dating, the person he dated needed to not only know about Christopher but also be okay with Eddie having a son — a special needs child at that. 

“They didn’t mention it,” Neal said and took a few bites of his food. 

They were both almost close to being done with their entrees and Neal had finally stopped talking incessantly. When their waiter came by asking if they needed anything, it wasn’t even  Eddie that jumped at the chance to get the bill, but Neal who shot Eddie an almost apologetic look. 

“I got this,” Neal said when it came. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Eddie did not protest. A free dinner was the least he could get out of it. As they were walking out, Eddie took note of all the happy couples deep in conversation or staring into each other’s eyes in a disgustingly loving manner. The restaurant itself was decorated for the holiday with roses everywhere. When they reached the door, Eddie heard someone squeal and when he turned he saw a man drop down to one knee in front of a woman. 

“A bit tacky doing it on Valentine’s Day,” Neal said. 

“Or romantic,” Eddie said. 

When they got outside, Neal turned and looked at him. “We really don’t have anything in common. But this was fun.” He offered up his hand and Eddie shook it. 

Neal walked away and Eddie was tempted to call his sisters and tell them off for the two hours he’d wasted at a dinner with someone that he was never going to connect with. But, he didn’t want that aggravation, so instead he headed to where he’d parked his car and then drove straight to Buck’s apartment. He was so exhausted and the only thing that he wanted was to sit down with his son and Buck and maybe watch a movie. The thing he should have been doing in the first place. 

—-

They ate while doing the puzzle. Christopher was determined to finish it and he was concentrating so hard but Buck would still sort of nudge him in the right direction. He left pieces that would surely go together right next to each other and pretended not to notice them so that Christopher would instead. It was fun. 

“Think we can finish this tonight, Buck?”

“Maybe. I guess it depends on how late your dad is.” 

Christopher frowned at that but refocused on the puzzle and Buck just chuckled and put a few pieces together so that maybe they could finish the whole thing by the time that Eddie returned and took Christopher home. 

“Bucky, don’t you like my dad?” 

“Of course I do. What makes you ask that?” He watched Christopher carefully as he moved pieces around with his fingers. 

“Well, if my daddy is going to start dating again...well, why isn’t he on a date with you?” Christopher looked straight at him with his last word and Buck felt like Christopher was seeing right through him. 

“I don’t know, buddy. I don’t know. Hey, look, we almost have all of Lady done.”

They were about halfway done when the door to his apartment clicked open. Only Eddie and Maddie had keys to his apartment and Buck didn’t expect Maddie to stop by unless something had gone wrong with Chim. Christopher was distracted by the puzzle but Buck stood up when he saw Eddie walk in. 

“Hey,” Buck said and stepped around the puzzle to meet him closer to the door. 

Eddie looked tired. “Hey,” he said back and then his lips turned up into a smile. “What are you guys up to?”

“Puzzle,” Buck said. “He’s having fun.”

“At least you guys had a good night tonight.”

Buck tried to hide how elated he was to hear that. “Not a good night for you?” 

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, Buck, you could say that. I, um, I went on a date tonight.”

“I sort of figured. Plus, Christopher told me.”

Eddie shook his head but he was smiling. “That kid doesn’t miss a thing. Yeah, my sisters made me go. They’ve been nagging me for ages and then they set this up and didn’t even tell me until the day I asked if you could watch Christopher. He was kind of a dick, to be honest.”

Buck felt lighter, suddenly. Happier. And then the words caught up with him. “He,” he said. 

“Uh...yeah. Buck, you know I’m bi, right?”

Buck shook his head. “No, actually. I didn’t.”

“Oh,” Eddie said and shuffled awkwardly. “Well, I am.”

“Me too,” Buck said and because he didn’t know if he could watch Eddie’s reaction he turned and walked back to Christopher. “How’s it going, buddy?”

“Good,” Christopher said. 

“Your dad is here,” Buck told him. 

Christopher looked up and towards Eddie who had followed them. “Hi, daddy. We’re doing a puzzle.”

“I can see that, son,” Eddie said. 

“Do we have to go yet?” 

Eddie looked towards Buck and Buck shrugged. He would keep them forever if that was an option. “You can stay. If you’re hungry we still have some pizza.”

“The one thing I got out of it was a free dinner,” Eddie said. 

“Oh. Um, beer?”

“That, I’ll take you up on. Kinda need that after tonight.”

When he came back with two beers, Eddie had dropped to help Christopher with the puzzle and Buck sat down to join them. Chris was showing Eddie everything they’d already put together. Eddie was sort of just moving pieces around rather than trying to find anything that fit and Buck could tell that he was distracted. 

“Penny for your thought?” 

“You know, in this economy, it may have gone up to a dime.”

Buck chuckled. “Dude, avoidant much?” 

“How about we just work on the puzzle,” Eddie said. 

For a while they just focused on that. Buck was still trying to help Christopher put pieces together so mostly he was searching for anything that might help him, his hands going all over the puzzle pieces and bumping into Eddie’s from time to time. Eddie sort of froze every time their fingers touched. 

“All night, I just kept wishing I had just stayed here,” Eddie said. “Or at home. Anywhere but on that date.”

Buck didn’t know how to respond to that. He put a few pieces together and passed them towards Christopher. They were very nearly done with the whole thing. 

“It was stupid,” Eddie said. “I don’t even...I’m not interested in finding someone new. But my sisters are just the worst and saying no to them just makes things even worse.”  

Buck had no idea how much time passed while they worked on the puzzle but they finished the whole thing eventually. Christopher did the last ten pieces all on his own, giggling while he did it because he was just such a happy kid. When it was done, Buck expected Eddie to gather up Christopher and his things and be on his way but instead he moved over to the couch after grabbing a second beer and Christopher busied himself admiring his puzzle but Buck walked over to sit with Eddie. 

“I really should have tried to get out of tonight. My sisters...they just like to meddle and they think me dating will make me happy or some nonsense. Abuela says they can’t leave anything alone. My love life being one of those things.”

Buck swallowed. “Well, don’t you want to find someone. Date...do all of that?” 

Eddie shrugged his shoulders and he took a swig of his beer. “I have everything I need already.”

“Christopher,” Buck said. 

Eddie nodded and he took a breath before he set down the beer bottle at his feet and he leaned a bit closer to Buck. Buck had no idea what was happening or why. 

“And you,” Eddie said. 

“And me?”

Eddie sort of nodded. “All I wanted to do today was spend the day with you. Christopher and you. If they hadn’t gotten me this fail of a date I...well, I would have wanted to do something with you tonight. Anything.” 

As friends. Eddie probably meant that he’d wanted to spend the night with him as friends and Buck wanted that too even if he wanted something more too. 

“Me too,” Buck said. He looked towards Christopher but he had to look back at Eddie when Eddie placed a hand on his knee. 

—-

Eddie hadn’t known that he was going to say anything to Buck about his feelings when he first arrived at Buck’s apartment and he let himself in, but then his hand kept touching Buck’s and then they were sitting on Buck’s couch and Buck was right there and Eddie really didn’t want to leave without making it clear that Buck was important to him and not just as his friend. 

“I don’t want to go on any dates unless it’s with you,” Eddie said. 

Buck gasped and his gaze landed on where Eddie had placed his hand on Buck’s knee. 

“You — you wanted to date me?” Buck asked. 

Buck gave nothing away in the way he was looking at him but he wasn’t pushing Eddie away or telling him off so Eddie figured that was a good sign. 

Eddie grabbed his hand. “I want everything with you,” he said and his own courage surprised him. “I was on that date and I wanted to be here. I mentioned Christopher to him and the thought of me having a child repulsed him. He wasn’t you. No one else is and no one will compare. I want you to be my Valentine. This year and next year and the year after that. No one else.”

Buck looked shocked but his hand was gripping Eddie’s hand back and his lips were twitching into a smile. 

“Buck?”

Buck surged forward, breaching the space between them and he kissed Eddie, pressing his lips against Eddie’s and lifting a hand to hold his jaw and Eddie just melted into him. Buck was kissing him, he was right there, his nose brushing against’s Eddie’s cheek and his fingers just lightly moving against his jaw and it was perfect. It was more than Eddie had expected. 

“I love you,” Buck whispered against his lips when he pulled back.

—-

They were kissing. Eddie and he were kissing. His mind was blown and thought was barely possible past trying to forever remember the way that Eddie’s lips felt on his or how Eddie’s hand had landed on his bicep and Eddie just kept moving it up and down in a caress. Eddie nipped at his lips and Buck gasped as their tongues met and Buck couldn’t think anymore. It was impossible to when Eddie was right there and they were kissing, kissing, kissing…

Buck couldn’t help but whine when Eddie pulled back, dotting Buck’s lips with a few chaste pecks after before pressing their foreheads together.

“Love you too, Buck. This should have been my night all along. Spending it with you,” Eddie said.

“This is not the worst Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had,” Buck said. 

“Not by far,” Eddie said. 

There was a lot to discuss still but none of that mattered when they were sitting so close together and they had been kissing just moments before. For Buck, something as simple as a kiss had never been much of a big deal but this kiss mattered. It being Eddie mattered. It made all the difference. 

“I would keep kissing you except—” Eddie motioned towards where Chris was still looking over the puzzle.

Buck chuckled. He kissed Eddie’s cheek, hand lifting up from his jaw to caress Eddie’s forehead. Eddie sighed. 

“How about we put on a movie? If you want, you can change into something more comfortable. You know where my clothes are.” 

“Okay. I’ll be right back, then.”

“Daddy, where are you going?” 

Buck had to get himself back together. Eddie seemed to say something to Chris and then he was heading up the stairs. 

“Hey, buddy, you wanna help me get some popcorn? We’re going to watch a movie,” Buck said and Christopher scrambled to his feet and followed Buck to the kitchen. 

“Hey, Buck,” Christopher said while Buck got a bag of microwave popcorn out of a cabinet. 

“Yeah?”

“I told you that you and daddy belonged together.”

“You know, kid, you’re pretty smart.”

“I know,” Christopher said. 

Buck couldn’t help but laugh. He tasked Christopher with listening to the kernels popping while he grabbed a bowl. 

When Eddie got back, they had already opened the bag and dumped the popcorn into the bowl and Buck helped Christopher carry it over to the couch. 

“You look really good in my clothes, so you know,” Buck said when he was passing by Eddie. 

“Ah, so that was your motive,” Eddie said. 

“That, or I just want to keep you here forever,” Buck said. 

Eddie grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the living room. “You had only to ask for. I want you forever too.” 

“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” Buck said. 

“Yeah!” Christopher said from the couch and Buck high fived him. 

Eddie chuckled but he was nodding along. 

“Does this mean that you two are dating now?” Christopher asked. 

Buck chuckled and Eddie could just smile and grin. “Yeah, that’s exactly what this is.” 

“But I can still hang out with Buck too, right?” 

Buck kissed the top of Christopher’s head. “Kiddo, I think I’m going to be around even more now. You’re going to be sick of me.” 

“Never.” 

“No?”

“Nope. Not ever. You’re stuck with us now, Buck,” Eddie said. 

“And next time your sisters try to set you up on a blind date, you can just tell them you have a boyfriend,” Buck said. 

Eddie chuckled. “Should have done that in the first place.” 

Buck laughed. “That could have been a regularly cliche fake dating situation. Might have ended in the same place.” 

They were looking at each other over Christopher’s head and Eddie reached over and placed a hand on Buck’s cheek. “We would have found a way to this one way or another.”

[thatesqcrush]

Transparency

CW: angst/language. For @madpanda75 who wanted jealous baby Rafi. Related story: Study Buddies

Tags: @southern-magnolia @madpanda75 @ottosuricato @delia26 @dreila03 @sass-and-suspenders @glimmerglittergirl @melsquared79 @mommakat32 - anyone else just ask.

A knock on the door interrupted your studies. Your study partner looked at you and you shrugged as you jogged towards the door and opened it. To your surprise, your boyfriend, Rafael was on the other side. Rafael was clad in his typical uniform: a maroon Harvard hoodie and jeans. His hair was mussed, a tell tale sign that he had been stressed.

“Rafi? What are you doing here? I thought you had that big international relations paper?” You cocked your head in confusion.

“I finished my first draft,” Rafael replied with a shrug. “I figured we could go to the hall and grab some dinner.” He looked past you and saw you weren’t alone. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked nervously.

You looked at your study partner and excused yourself, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door almost completely, leaving just a small opening.

You looked at Rafael quizzically, before bursting into laughter. “Mike? Oh, we’re just studying for our property final next week.”

“Again? That’s like the third time this week. Can’t anyone else help him?” Rafael questioned, shifting his weight. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and rocked on his heels.

“Babe, it’s finals,” you reasoned.

“So, no on dinner?” Rafael ignored your reply.

You frowned, shaking your head. “No babe. I’m sorry. We’re probably going to be at it for a couple of more hours. Rain check? Tomorrow?”

Rafael swallowed hard and looked back at your study partner once more, who was going through some flash cards. “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You smiled brightly. “Thanks for understanding. I’ll see you tomorrow. Love you.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, but Rafael didn’t return the kiss. You could sense something was bothering him. “Babe, is everything okay?”

Rafael looked at you, his initial expression was stoic but then his face relaxed, as if all the tension just magically disappeared. “Yeah; just stressed and tired. Hungry.”

You ran your hands through his hair, down his cheeks and then to hood of his sweatshirt and tugged on the collar. “Go eat and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rafael nodded and kissed your cheek. “Tomorrow then.”

You smiled, before turning and ducking back into your room.

****

The following day, you and Rafael spent almost every waking moment together. You walked along the quad towards the student center, hand in hand. Whatever tension was there yesterday, was gone. Rafael seemed to be in a better mood.

As you approached the student center, Mike came into focus. “Hey y/n! Thanks for your help last night.”

“Sure thing. Oh, by the way, this is my boyfriend Rafael. Rafael, this is Mike Reddick. You sort of met him last night.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you.” Rafael greeted.

Mike nodded. “You’ve got yourself a great gal,” he acknowledged. “Really knows her stuff. Saved my ass.”

Rafael wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. “She really is. I’m a lucky guy.” His comment was clipped and you could sense the return of that awkward tension. You looked at Rafael quizzically, before returning to Mike.

“So let me know if you need anymore help, but I think you’ll be okay. I feel like you understood the materials.”

“Thanks. Oh, hey! By the way, my roommates and I are throwing a huge kegger tomorrow night. You should come. I live on 285 Third Street. Nine o’clock.”

“Awesome, we’ll be there, right Rafi?” You looked up at your boyfriend. He forced a grin. “Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

You said your goodbyes and continued on your way to the student center so you could check on your mail and grab some coffee.

***

“Jump Around” blasted on the stereo so loudly you could feel the room vibrate. You wore ripped denim shortalls with a black crop top underneath. Your hair was pulled back in a Dutch braid. Rafael wore his standard, except this time he wore a New York Yankees hoodie. You teased Rafael that he had a target on his back in the heart of Red Sox Nation.

You and Rafael made your way through the crowded house, filled with party-goers. You recognized some classmates and said hi, as you led Rafael through the sea of people. The two of you made your way to the kitchen where Mike was chugging back a beer with some other guys.

Mike’s eyes lit up as he saw you. “Hey guys! Glad you could make it. Want a beer? Just tapped this beaut,” he shouted over the loud music. He banged on the barrel, the metal clanging.

Two red solo cups made their way to you and you skimmed off the foam, flicking your hand towards the floor. “Thanks,” you half-shouted in response.

Rafael was miserable. He knew he had no reason to be jealous of Mike but something about seeing you with him unnerved him.

A few hours later, Rafael found you talking to Mike, your head thrown back in laughter. He couldn’t make out what you were talking about, but it was clear you were interested in whatever was being discussed. The two of you were oblivious to Rafael’s presence. Deep down Rafael truly believed you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, whether on purpose or not. But still, watching you with Mike brought up his insecurities and unresolved anger with Yelina.

Rafael turned around and headed outside to breathe. Outside a young couple was making out while another group played beer pong along the porch. Rafael bummed a smoke off another student and he let out a long puff of smoke, trying to get out of his own head.

“Rafi? You out here?”

Rafael turned at the sound of your voice. “Yeah, I am here.”

Seeing the cigarette bud in Rafael’s hand, you frowned. Rafael only smoked when he was upset. You had two new red solo cups in your hands.

“Whatcha doing out here? I’ve been looking all over for you?” you replied as you handed him a beer. “I missed you.”

“Missed me? O-kay,” Rafael replied, the “o” was drawn out, and the “kay” was clipped. “You seemed to be having tons of fun with Mike,” Rafael sneered. “Why don’t you be with him since you like spending so much time with him? Shouldn’t you be studying?”

You felt as if all of the air was sucked out and your cheeks felt hot. If Rafael was honest with himself, he would have seen a flash of hurt in your eyes.

You reacted without thinking and you threw your beer in Rafael’s face. Rafael appeared momentarily stunned. The beer pong crowd murmured and whistled at your actions. Even the couple that had been making out stopped to stare.

Rafael reached out for you but you shirked back. “No. Nothing is going on between him and I. Mike is just a friend. What? You can’t trust me?” You replied angrily.

Rafael opened his mouth but found himself at a loss for words. Instead he averted his eyes, and looked at the ground. He took a long drag of his cigarette.

Your eyes narrowed. “So that’s how it is? Fine. Do NOT follow me home. I can get on all by myself,” you hissed.

As you walked back to your dorm, your mind reeled from Rafael’s comments. You didn’t turn around but you knew Rafael followed you back to campus.

Rafael watched as you swiped your keycard back to your dorm. He then made his way back to his dorm. Once in his room, he removed his soiled sweatshirt and t-shirt and tossed them into the hamper before changing into his pajama bottoms and a clean t-shirt. He ran his hands through his hair before rubbing his face. “What did I do?” he groaned, trying to sleep. Sleep was futile and he tossed and turned the whole night. He couldn’t get the hurt look on your face out of his mind.

***

The next morning, you sat in your common room, on the crappy futon your roommate, Sheila had found secondhand. You spooned and stirred your cereal, willing yourself to eat but you didn’t have much of an appetite.

“That’s so unlike him. What gives?” Sheila asked as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. You shrugged in response. “Maybe finals are getting to him.”

“That still doesn’t justify a cheating accusation. Has he ever been jealous before?” Sheila asked, taking a place next to you.

“No,” you sighed. “He had one other girlfriend in high school but that was it. He’s never really talked about her though. To be fair, I’ve never asked. I’ve never had reason to...”

“Until now,” Sheila finished for you.

You nodded. You stood and put your bowl back on the table in front of you. “Not hungry. I still smell like a frat house - I am going to go shower.”

You made your way back into your room and changed into a wrap-around towel. Grabbing your caddy and shipping into flip-flops, you headed to the door to shower. When you opened the door, Rafael was there - his fist raised to knock on your door.

“Hey,” you greeted coolly.

“Y/N - can we talk?” Rafael asked softly. “Please?” He added for good measure.

You shook your head. “Now isn’t a good time. I’m going to shower. Can we meet in 30 minutes at the coffee shop?”

Rafael nodded. “Sure. Love you.”

You sucked in a breath. “Do you now?” You shook your head sadly and headed to the communal showers, leaving Rafael once again.

***

Rafael sat at the coffee shop, two coffees - a drip for him and a soy latte for you, accompanied him. Glancing out the window, he spotted you bounding up the stairs, wearing a flower print babydoll dress with a black t-shirt underneath.

His leg twitched nervously and he took out the photo he had brought with him from his pocket. It was a picture of him, Alex, and Eddie on graduation day - the three Musketeers of Jerome Avenue. Yelina was in front of him, his arm was wrapped around her and she held onto the arm that was wrapped around him. Yelina was beautiful and she knew it from early on. She had all the boys of Jerome Avenue wrapped around her finger and Rafael couldn’t believe that she she chose him - the scrawny kid that was always getting picked on. In hindsight, Rafael knew she was just trying to get to Alex, the more popular one of their little trio. But still, Rafael was not immune to the naïveté that accompanies first love.

So when Rafael left for Harvard, they tried to make it work. Yelina broke things off, during winter break his second year at Harvard telling him she couldn’t handle long distance and that all she needed was in New York anyway. And then, at Eddie’s family’s Nochebuena party, he caught Alex and Yelina hooking up on the fire escape. Eddie eventually confessed that the pair had been hooking up the entire time Rafael had been away.

After getting his heart all twisted with Yelina back at home, he threw himself into his studies - he was ready to prove everyone wrong. That he too, could accomplish great things and give back to the community. Then, by happenstance that spring semester, in Economic Analysis, he saw you. You were the prettiest girl in the whole class. So when your professor said that you needed help with finals, he jumped at the chance to help.

To his delight, you had a crush on him too - you made it known when you kissed him in the library. You were the complete opposite of Yelina. Unlike Yelina, you were unbelievingly kind and didn’t seem to have a mean bone at all in your body - not that you were a pushover; you held your own. Rafael knew that from the times you and him did argue. But you both always talked out; things never lasted long. But there was something about this - he wasn’t sure if the two of you would recover from. He hoped he was wrong.

Your heart pounded as you approached the table. Rafael looked remorseful and he stood up, as you got closer.

“You look nice,” Rafael replied softly.

You cocked your brow at him. “That’s what you’re opening with?” You sighed in frustration and sat down. “Thanks for the coffee.”

You wrapped your hands around the still hot mug and lifted it to your lips.

“I'm sorry,” Rafael apologized. “I'm sorry that I acted like a prick. I'm sorry that I lost my cool. And I am sorry for accusing you of something and not talking to you about it.”

“I’m sorry for throwing my beer at you,” you apologized in return. “So, what do we do now?” you asked softly. “You hurt me.”

“I don't want you to leave. I wanna make things different,” Rafael replied.

“What the hell was that by the way?” you asked.

Rafael reached for the picture and with his index and middle finger, pushed it your way.

“That’s Yelina. We broke up last semester. She cheated on me. I thought I was over it. Really, I did. But then I saw you with Mike. I don’t know. It brought up a lot of unresolved issues. He kept going on about how what a great person you are-.”

“He’s not wrong you know,” you replied, with a wink.

“I was afraid I’d lose you,” Rafael exhaled.

“I need transparency. You need to tell me about these things, so we can talk to them like adults,” you replied staring hard at the picture. “Besides, I was only helping Mike with finals. You can trust me. He has a girlfriend at Bowdoin, by the way.”

Rafael nodded. “I’m sorry. I know I can trust you.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Are we going to be okay?”

He reached for your hand and you let him take it. He squeezed your hand and you squeezed it back. You looked at him, and then back at the picture. “You know what they say right?”

Rafael furrowed his brows. “No, what?”

You spun the picture back at him and tapped on Yelina’s face. “The bigger the hoop earring, the bigger the hoe,” you winked as you took a large gulp of coffee. Rafael coughed, and sputtered coffee all over the table. He wiped himself and and looked at you incredulously.

You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “Look, we’ll be okay.”

Rafael squeezed your hand once more. “I love you.”

“I know you do. I love you too,” you replied with a small smile. “Want to get out of here?”

Rafael nodded and gave you a lopsided grin. Standing, you reached for his hand and Rafael took it. Standing, he pulled you into a hug. Rafael breathed in your scent and pressed a kissed to the top of your head.

You pulled away to return the coffee cups. You nodded your head towards the exit. “Come on, let’s go.”

Rafael followed you and quickly caught up with you in just a few strides. The two of you interlocked hands. Rafael pressed a kiss to your fingers. Rafael and you were both happy to have your relationship moving forward and that this was all behind you. You both knew with each others love and continued open communication, you could get through anything.

FIN

[ireadyabooks]

New Year, New Books!

Happy 2019, book nerds! Now that we’ve cleaned up the confetti from New Year’s Eve, it’s time to get serious about some resolutions: reading as many books as we possibly can in 2019! 

If your TBR pile needs some love, we’ve got you covered. Here are some of our faves coming your way in early 2019! 

The Love and Lies of Rukhsana Ali

Available January 29th

Seventeen-year-old Rukhsana Ali has always been fascinated by the universe around her and the laws of physics that keep everything in order. But her life at home isn't so absolute. Unable to come out to her conservative Muslim parents, she keeps that part of her identity hidden. And that means keeping her girlfriend, Ariana, a secret from them too. Luckily, only a few more months stand between her carefully monitored life at home and a fresh start at Caltech in the fall. But when Rukhsana's mom catches her and Ariana together, her future begins to collapse around her. Devastated and confused, Rukhsana's parents whisk her off to stay with their extended family in Bangladesh where, along with the loving arms of her grandmother and cousins, she is met with a world of arranged marriages, religious tradition, and intolerance. Fortunately, Rukhsana finds allies along the way and, through reading her grandmother's old diary, finds the courage to take control of her future and fight for her love.

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Spin

Available January 29th

Even in murder, the music lives on. When rising star Paris Secord (aka DJ ParSec) is found dead on her turntables, it sends the local music scene reeling. No one is feeling that grief more than her shunned pre-fame best friend, Kya, and ParSec's chief groupie, Fuse -- two sworn enemies who happened to be the ones who discovered her body. The police have few leads, and when the trail quickly turns cold, the authorities don't seem to be pushing too hard to investigate further. But nobody counted on Paris's deeply loyal fans, ParSec Nation, or the outrage that would drive Fuse and Kya to work together. As ParSec Nation takes to social media and the streets in their crusade for justice, Fuse and Kya start digging into Paris's past, stumbling across a deadly secret. With new info comes new motives. New suspects. And a fandom that will stop at nothing in their obsessive quest for answers, not even murder...

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The Deceiver’s Heart

Available February 26th

In this sequel to the instant New York Times bestseller The Traitor's Game, Kestra Dallisor has finally gained possession of the Olden Blade. With the dagger in her control, she attempts to destroy the tyrannical Lord Endrick. But when Kestra fails, the king strips her of her memory, and leaves her weak and uncertain, bound to obey him. Heartbroken, Simon is desperate to return Kestra to the rebel she was, but refuses to use magic to heal her. With untrusting Coracks and Halderians threatening to capture and kill her, and war looming on the horizon, Kestra and Simon will have to learn to trust each other again if they have any hope of surviving. But can a heart once broken ever be healed?

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The Music of What Happens

Available February 26th

Max: Chill. Sports. Video games. Gay and not a big deal, not to him, not to his mom, not to his buddies. And a secret: An encounter with an older kid that makes it hard to breathe, one that he doesn't want to think about, ever. Jordan: The opposite of chill. Poetry. His "wives" and the Chandler Mall. Never been kissed and searching for Mr. Right, who probably won't like him anyway. And a secret: A spiraling out of control mother, and the knowledge that he's the only one who can keep the family from falling apart. Throw in a rickety, 1980s-era food truck called Coq Au Vinny. Add in prickly pears, cloud eggs, and a murky idea of what's considered locally sourced and organic. Place it all in Mesa, Arizona, in June, where the temp regularly hits 114. And top it off with a touch of undeniable chemistry between utter opposites. Over the course of one summer, two boys will have to face their biggest fears and decide what they're willing to risk -- to get the thing they want the most.

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Pretend She’s Here

Available February 26th

Emily Lonergan's best friend died last year. And Emily hasn't stopped grieving. Lizzie Porter was lively, loud, and fun -- Emily's better half. Emily can't accept that she's gone. When Lizzie's parents and her sister come back to town to visit, Emily's heartened to see them. The Porters understand her pain. They miss Lizzie desperately, too. Desperately enough to do something crazy. Something unthinkable. Suddenly, Emily's life is hurtling toward a very dark place -- and she's not sure she'll ever be able to return to what she once knew was real.

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Last of Her Name

Available February 26th

Sixteen years ago, rebellion swept the galaxy known as the Belt of Jewels. Every member of the Leonov royal family was murdered--down to their youngest child, Princess Anya--making way for the Union government to seize power. But Stacia doesn't think much about politics. She spends her days half-wild, rambling her father's vineyard with her friends, Clio and Pol. That all changes when a Union ship appears burning through the sky, bearing the leader of the Union, the Direktor Eminent himself, who declares that Stacia's sleepy village is a den of empire loyalists. Even more shocking, the Direktor claims that Princess Anya Leonova is alive--and Stacia is the lost princess As their home explodes into chaos, Pol smuggles Stacia to a hidden escape ship, leaving Clio in the hands of the Union. With everything she knows threading away into the stars, Stacia sets her heart on a single mission: She will find and rescue Clio, even with the whole galaxy on her trail.

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That’s Not What I Heard

Available February 26th

What did you hear? Kimberly Landis-Lilley and Teddy Lin are over. Yes, the Kim and Teddy broke up. At least that's what Phil Spooner thinks he overheard and then told Jess Howard, Kim's best friend. Something about Teddy not liking Kim's Instas? Or was it that Teddy is moving to Italy and didn't want to do long distance? Or that Kim slid into someone else's DMs? Jess told her boyfriend, Elvis, that he needs to be on Kim's side. Especially if he wants to keep her as his girlfriend. But Elvis is also Teddy's best friend. Now, Kim's run out of school for the day. Jess is furious. Elvis is confused. And half the lunch period won't talk to Teddy. Even the teachers have taken sides. William Henry Harrison High will never be the same again!

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Tell Me Everything

Available February 26th

Your secret's safe...until it's not. Ivy's always preferred to lay low, unlike her best friend Harold, who has taken up a hundred activities as sophomore year begins. But Ivy has her own distraction: the new anonymous art-sharing app, VEIL. Being on the sidelines has made Ivy a skilled observer, and soon she discovers that some of the anonymous posters are actually her classmates. While she's still too scared to put her own creations on the app, Ivy realizes that she can contribute in an even better way -- by making gifts for the artists she's discovered. The acts of kindness give her such a rush that, when Ivy suspects Harold is keeping a secret, she decides to go all in. Forget gifts -- Harold needs a major party. But when her good intentions thrust her into the spotlight, Ivy's carefully curated world is thrown into chaos. Now she has to find the courage to stand out... or risk losing everything and everyone she loves most.

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Mike

Available February 26th

Mike is the imaginary friend and projection of a repressed wish that won’t go away until Floyd confronts both his greatest fear and greatest desire: to succeed. MEET FLOYD. He's a tennis star. Possibly good enough to win Wimbledon one day. MEET MIKE. He's... different. Apart from anything else, Floyd seems to be the only one who can see him. But Mike must have appeared for a reason. And finding out why is perhaps the most important thing Floyd will ever do...

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Sorry Not Sorry

Available February 26th

Janelle and Alyssa used to be friends. Best friends. They knew each other's deepest secrets and went through the hardest times together. But that was then. Now? Their status is somewhere between frenemies and full-on rivals. Janelle is all about making a difference in her community, while Alyssa reigns over the shallowest girls in school. Until the day Alyssa collapses and is rushed to the hospital. Suddenly, everyone knows about her declining health and race against time. And, in a stunning twist of fate, the only person who might be able to save Alyssa's life -- is Janelle. But will the girls' bitter past get in the way of their futures?

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Brawler

Available March 26th

Eddie MacIntyre--Mac to a handful of friends--is Pennsylvania's most promising wrestler. His future is bright with scholarship offers and the dream of helping his struggling mom. But then comes a fateful match at the state championship, when his famous rage consumes him and he assaults a referee. In an instant, Mac loses all he and his mom have worked to build since his abusive father was locked up years ago. Facing arrest, Mac runs away to another town, where he is taken in by a shady promoter who has followed his career. He recruits Mac into Brawlers, an illegal underground fighting ring run by a gangland boss. This is a bloodsport that has no rules . . . but offers plenty of reward. Mac teams up with Khajee, a girl with the fighting skills he'll need to learn to survive . . . and her own dark past tying her to the head of the ring. Together the two must figure out their place in a world that hasn't been kind to them . . . and forge a future that could be.

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Quarantine: A Love Story

Available March 26th

Oliver wants a girlfriend, and there's a girl back home who might be interested in him. The problem is, he has to spend his spring break on a volunteer trip in the Dominican Republic. Flora, on the other hand, isn't really looking for a boyfriend. She just wants to end a miserable spring break visiting her dad and her new stepmom in the D.R. The solution to both their problems? Get back home to New York ASAP. Sadly, they won't be getting there anytime soon. Their hopes are dashed when Flora's impulsiveness lands them in quarantine -- just the two of them. Now, the two teens must come together in order to survive life in a bubble for 30 days. In that time, love will bloom. But is it the real thing, or just a placebo effect?

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I Don’t Want To Be Crazy

Available March 26th

This is a true story of growing up, breaking down, and coming to grips with a psychological disorder. When Samantha Schutz first left home for college, she was excited by the possibilities -- freedom from parents, freedom from a boyfriend who was reckless with her affections, freedom from the person she was supposed to be. At first, she reveled in the independence . . . but as pressures increased, she began to suffer anxiety attacks that would leave her mentally shaken and physically incapacitated. Thus began a hard road of discovery and coping, powerfully rendered in this poetry memoir.

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Dear Ally, How Do You Write a Book?

Available March 26th

Have you always wanted to write a book, but don't know where to start? Or maybe you're really great at writing the first few chapters . . . but you never quite make it to the end? Or do you finally have a finished manuscript, but you're not sure what to do next? Fear not -- if you have writing-related questions, this book has answers! Whether you're writing for fun or to build a career, bestselling author Ally Carter is ready to help you make your work shine. With honesty, encouragement, and humor, Ally's ready here to answer the questions that writers struggle with the most. Filled with practical tips and helpful advice, Dear Ally is a treasure for aspiring writers at any stage of their careers. It offers a behind-the-scenes look at how books get made, from idea to publication, and gives you insight into the writing processes of some of the biggest and most talented YA authors writing today.

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[enz-fan]

‘Split Enz On The Road’ story written for ‘Rip It Up’ magazine by lighting director, Raewyn Turner. Circa 1982.

“SPLIT ENZ – ON THE ROAD STORY

Raewyn Turner has been lighting director for Split Enz since 1975. She painted the cover for Frenzy and last year at Dennis Cohn Gallery exhibited drawings in her show entitled ‘On The Road Again’. Raewyn has written for Rip It Up, about behind-the-scenes- staging the 1982 Time And Tide tour of New Zealand.

Six months in a leaky boat and that story nears its end for the second time in two years, as Split Enz round the bend on their last lap of touring, finishing in New Zealand. The past five months have been a variety show, the star hosts mingle with us, briefly, from their conveyer belts, flanked by the extras who are directed to have walk-on and bit parts for the day. The many famed and fabled buildings and cities roll on the big rollers past the car windows, and lots of people pass us, in a hurry, to and fro, people with different accents, different smiles, clothes, lifestyles. While we sit and stand, walk and work, moving from car to aeroplane, airport to motel to theatre, the big rollers roll in the world’s projection room, on to the screens, which are our windows.

Split Enz, the audience, the judge, in the van with the video sensurround windows. The selection committee. In a chartered plane, seated in rows until a kind man appears and opens the exit door, ushering us into another windows room. We sit there, breathing in the muted greens and browns and admiring the blue sky, until we’re told to get out and into another room, where soft musak whispers that life is a breeze. Water flows from taps, milk is instant non-dairy whitener, food is but a phone call and an hour’s wait away, all-night television to lull to sleep, air comes from an air conditioner.

10.00 am on Monday, August 16 in Melbourne, and the band are making a film clip, ‘Never Ceases To Amaze Me’, that Noel has worked out with the director over long phone calls from Darwin. It doesn’t finish until 6.00 pm. Last night at the same time, the band had just come off stage, completing the last date of their Australian tour, an ‘Under-18s’ show in Melbourne.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 17

Melbourne, 7.00 am. Grant Thomas, the tour manager, dutifully makes wake-up calls and in six homes scattered over Melbourne, the entourage is busily preparing and packing to make the flight, leaving at 10.00 am to Auckland. 9.00 am we’re at the airport, tired and grizzly, only to learn that the plane has been delayed for five and a half hours. Back home for some more sleep, while the road crew opt to stay at the airport and busy themselves making badges to display their membership of an exclusive social club – the crew’s very own ‘Split Enz Sports And Social Club’ – crew only.

The same day, 10.30 pm, ‘arrive Auckland and proceed to Hamilton, going by the itinerary. Oops. Noel has left his bag at the airport, so we have to double back. Check into hotel, and the band settle for some sleep while I go down to the Founders Theatre to set up for the first show of the NZ tour. The stage set, which has some technical peculiarities, has to be explained and put up and the special effects projectors babied out of their case and wheeled around. Although the lighting plot was sent over a month in advance, the rigging, cabling and colouring of lamps takes forever on the first set up, so we do all but focus tonight. 6.00 am we call it quits and go back to the hotel for a few hours’ sleep. Laurie Bell, the production manager works on, there are many details to be taken care of before the stage and sound people begin work at 9.00 am.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 18

Sound check is early, everyone expecs the first show to be difficult because of the new, unfamiliar NZ equipment – PA, foldback and lights. The Finn elders arrive, Finn cousins playing with the beach balls backstage.

The dressing room is newly painted and most of the band find they have severe headaches the next day. But battle dress donned, they take the stage with enthusiasm and anticipation, because it’s great to be on home soil. The audience is quiet, polite and serious. It’s been a whole year since Split Enz toured NZ and they’re playing new material, working hard. There are a few technical difficulties, but only minor ones. Back to the hotel for some hot chocolate with friends, before retiring.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 19

1.30 pm. Wake up, and Eddie and I go down to the theatre to work on improving our computer programmes (Eddie’s synthesisers are digitally controlled and store many different sounds in computer memories). Computers and synthesisers are relatively new developments and computers, like humans, were not designed for the rigours of the road. Just as Eddie wanders around his hotel, wondering where he is and what he is doing there, these computers become similarly vacant and he is often to be found in a state of panic, trying to reprogramme his sounds minutes before a show. The lighting desk computer is but 120 channels of memories which can be reprogrammed for particular lighting scenes or progressions of lighting changes. However, it too has a habit of becoming vacant, or worse, storing more than its share, which means it could reveal the total lighting show at the press of one memory button.

The sound crew have been working all day, trying ti iron out the creases in last night’s sound.

Ed and Noel go off for a walk into town, looking for water pistols. The Ed Water Pistol Collection has swelled to number 120 over three years.

Soundcheck, dinner – Noel enthuses over the six veges – back to the paintstricken dressing room an hour before the show, to put on the ‘cossies’ (costumes), paint the faces, discuss song lists, tell a few jokes, wet the whistle (or sip a lemonade), do armstretches and leg raises, eat some peanuts or whatever is offering in snacks. The show goes ‘averagely well’ (probably ‘very good’ in another’s words), but we have our own rating system.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 20

6.00 am, get up and drive to Auckland. The car breaks down on the way, but is fixed by a kind mechanic, free of charge. We feel that this could only happen in NZ. The production crew have been waiting outside the Logan Campbell Centre since 8.00 am, but the truck doesn’t arrive till 10. They begin work frantically and irritably, but still able to make light-hearted jokes, and the stage set slowly appears.

Meanwhile, Noel has gone to visit his folks. Tim and Neil arrive in Auckland with theirs, to spend the day together. Nigel, being the most boring (he is aware of the fact) member of the band, has experienced nothing of any interest whatsoever since arriving in NZ, not on this day, except for a sleepy interview with Colin Hogg. Eddie visits his sister and his friend Paul Crowther and they spend the rest of the day babbling about synths.

Backstage in the dressing room the champagne arrives – a greeting from the record company. The band have another of their ‘average’ performances, the crowd was ecstatic but the band are tired. The sound men aren’t feeling happy, so they make plans to spend all day tomorrow on improvements, to further dampen the echoes.

Back to the White Heron, now affectionately known as the Red Herring (no offence meant), for a few drinks with friends in the Carriage Bar. This is the first piece of glamorous living I’ve experienced for about a month or more – other people might call it just having a drink – but it means a lot being able to have the luxury of changing from work clothes to casual and being with friends.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 21

1.30 pm. Wake up and with Noel and Eddie go to Parnell Village where we have breakfast with Noel’s folks, who are in Auckland for both shows. A flying visit to a friend strapped in traction in hospital and it’s on to soundcheck and an early show.

Nigel has spent the day sleeping, jigging and walking, his three favourite pursuits. Neil and Tim are having dinner with their folks at the table over from us. They bribe the resident pianist into playing ‘Feelings’ as an after-dinner tribute to the band. (This song was on the top of the list for singing at the top of one’s voice while bumping along in a van through North America.)

SUNDAY, AUGUST 22

9.00 am. Depart the hotel for the airport, 9.55 flight departs Auckland for Palmerston North, without breakfast.

Tim feels detached from everything, and so opts for the hair-of-the-dog treatment, which will see him through until the end of the performance. The drinks backstage in the dressing room are there to be a starter motor, to kick a tired man into action. It’s an early show again, and it feels good to commence the performance about an hour after soundcheck. It’s still early enough to relax afterwards over dinner and watching TV.

MONDAY, AUGUST 23

10.30 am. Bags are being loaded into five cars, room bills are being paid, and we’re off to Christchurch. It’s a day off, everyone is anticipating what they’ll do, and probably they’ll do nothing. We’ve taken all the back seats in the plane and Ian Magan’s (tour promoter) Air New Zealand voice (fondly remembering “Ladies and gentleman, have you seen this?” on flights to London) booms from three seats away. Tonight he has promised the entourage a free dinner.

Eddie and I miss the free dinner – we’ve been invited to his brother’s house. This is one of the advantages of this job – seeing family and friends in all corners of the world at least once a year – where distance and fares would normally prohibit this. The visits are, however, usually too short and sweet.

The band enthuse over the selection of old cars in ‘perfect condition’ being driven around Christchurch, reeling off the makes as we drive around. Austin, Morris, Zephyr, Vanguard… Tim’s been after a Studebaker and is delighted to hear that people in the entourage have spotted three so far. Back home the Split Enz Club boasts a green FJ Holden (Neil’s), a black Mark II Zephyr (Tim’s), a pink Morris Major Elite 1963 (Eddie’s), a 1950 Black Triumph Renown (Noel’s) and a brown 1954 Fiat station wagon (Nigel’s).

Today Noel went shopping and got the costumes drycleaned. Nigel went for a five-hour walk along the Avon, Neil joined the road crew for a trip to the snow, there they used big plastic rubbish bags for sliding down hills and threw snow at each other.

Tim stayed in and did an interview, then cruised around, went for a walk, I think. Ed, Clark Flannigan (Polygram Records’ man on tour) and I finally got ourselves away from the hotel and went swimming at the QEII pool. It’s the first day of the school holidays and Ed and Clark get swallowed up in the crowds queuing for the hydrotubes. Clark can do 50m overarm in 35 seconds, he tries out the high diving board, but Ed and I only manage the lowest. End of day off.

TUESDAY, AUGUST 24

7.00 am. Get up, shower and down to the Christchurch Town Hall by 8.00 am. It’s a beautiful day, warm with blue, blue skies, the smell of blossom, cold air and woodsmoke, peculiar to NZ.

The stage set is constructed quickly and looks good. I’d anticipated, with sinking stomach feelings, that as far as equipment and organisation of technical details go, the NZ section would be the worst and most difficult of this six-month tour (probably because it has previously been that). However, there have been vast improvements made in the expertise of the hired technical personnel and in the equipment to be found here since we toured last year. It has taken a lot of hard work to elevate it to this level, and although the equipment is different to the systems currently available in Australia, this in no way makes for a compromise situation.

At 10.30 am, I offer to get the food – three dozen donuts, one dozen cream buns, three dozen filled rolls, a bag of apples. We work on until 4.00 pm and soundcheck is at 4.30. After a while, the band drift into playing their oldies, searching for the perfect replacement for ‘Hard Act’, which they’re sick of.

The band are tired. After five months of constant touring and only two weeks off in the period – no weekends – they are finding it hellish to think clearly and with enthusiasm about their shows. They want to try a new set, a different way of playing particular songs, but the energy somehow keeps being channelled the same way. They shone for the Auckland shows and will probably shine for the rest, but they try to break out of their feelings of exhaustion and automatic gear.

Tonight’s performance is once again good, although lacking the fire that the band are striving hard to produce. The audience is enthusiastic. The band and crew and managers return to the hotel bar, where we tell each other jokes until the small hours, winding down for sleep after a long day.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 25

8.00 am. Woken by chainsaws, jackhammers and the noise of concrete being made in a wheelbarrow. These are quite regular occurrences in hotels where we have stayed, so I drift back to sleep. But Eddie has had enough and has decided to move over to the posh hotel, where Tim and Neil have recently moved, to escape the noise. The hotel is twice the price and offers a complimentary morning newspaper, but we prefer the squat NZ motels, having spent too long in high-rise hotels, with Coffee-Mate (powdered non-dairy whitener) for ea milk.

Soundcheck at 4.30, still the search for the perfect song replacement. ‘In The Wars’, ‘Jamboree’, ‘Under The Wheel’ and a few others are fiddled with and discarded.

Tim, Neil, Eddie and I drive off for dinner and discuss our fatigue and the artistic value (or not) of the song produced under pressure of having to be sold by a record company. The issue of touring arises and they talk about giving it up in Australia and NZ for two years, except for the occasional ‘spectacular’ – an alternative that would provide opportunity for lots of ideas to be exercised. Or perhaps they’d like to do a film, taking a year off to make it and write songs, using that period to develop their musical ability as individuals.

Showtime, the crew are lying around on couches drinking coffee and the first band are pounding away. Eddie is in the dressing room playing his other favourite song, ‘Loving You’ by Minnie Ripperton, accompanied by Neil singing. He breaks away into Chopin.

THURSDAY, AUGUST 26

A day off for some, but the three lighting technicians leave Christchurch at 9.00 am and arrive at Invercargill at 7.00 pm. (The truck has a sleep and they take turns at driving.) The rest of the crew fly down at 11.00 am and spend the rest of the day in the hotel’s spa pool. At 8.00 pm, Laurie, Glen (the set and projects man) and three loaders unpack the truck, having first to remove a fleet of five city council vans that were parked across the stage door. Glen gets to work putting up the stage set and is back at the hotel by 11.00 pm.

Tim, Neil, Clark, Eddie and I have made plans to drive to Akaroa for some fish and chips and scenery, but Eddie and I spend until 2.00 pm buying second-hand furniture for future use, by which time Clark isn’t to be found. The free day has just about slipped away. We make rearrangements with the cars and Tim and Neil go to Akaroa. Noel, Eddie and I take a drive that meanders along a peninsula beyond Lyttleton, and we end up driving along a tractor path up a mountainside. The green pastures, trees in blossom, the mountain and valleys, we can’t wait to settle back here and enjoy the countryside. Tim and Neil return with tales of spectacular scenery, quite in awe of the beauty of the countryside. Neil, in surprise, says it’s always so much better than he’s remembered. Of course, all this talk about ‘nature’ crops up in our conversations especially after a few months on the road, staying in orange and purple hotel rooms. At the same time, the touring lifestyle has another advantage – it provides the blinkers and forces a total commitment to work.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 27

9.00 am. Wake up call from Grant, we move quickly and tiredly into the day.

Arrive Invercargill and greeted by an over-officious officer on the sidewalk at the airport. Magan has an argument with him and Neil throws him a coin as we drive away. Later, Magan receives a speeding ticket from the same officer.

Stop off on the way to the hotel, at the art gallery for a typical photo of the band posing next to a huge anchor for the local papers.

I go straight to work. The crew, having become accustomed to the equipment, are working very fast these days and focus is early. The set works well in the Civic Centre, because the tiers of balconies tower over the stage, which is shallow and therefore the sail has a steep incline. I don’t have a good show, getting my fingers jammed in the faders, despite a grand performance by the projector operators, Glen and Keith, who are by now quite skilled.

Noel apparently just about falls backwards off his drums, fatigued and the rest of the band are tired. But there are only 11 more shows to do, so they attack each one with enthusiasm.

After the show, the musos’ club is less than hospitable, hassling the band at the door. Eddie, Tim and Neil leave and end up helping Magan, who is hosting a three-hour radio show.

The road crew have busily packed clean socks for the Saturday soundcheck before heading off to Queenstown in search of the thrillseeker jetboats. Bed.

Part two of this feature will appear in next months ‘R.I.U’.”

[reddieloserz]

As Long As We’re Together

IT 2017 - Reddie - WIP StreetPerformer!Richie and Bookstore!Eddie Slow Burn, Slice of Life

“When the end of high school began to gang up on the six of them, they each promised the other that the moment graduation happened they would leave Derry for good. Now each of them were 21 (Bill was 22), and so far they have kept that promise.

They had found an old Victorian Townhouse up for rent right off of Main St. They had all agreed on Portland, Maine. They all knew they would be okay as long as they’re together.”

An AU where The Losers are all roommates in a huge house just off of Main St, where they all work. Eddie is a college student working in a bookstore. Richie is a homeless street performer who relies on his guitar and Voices to make money. Trashmouth soon walks into their lives and turns everything upside down.

Chapter 2 Below Cut

Also on AO3

(((I just wanted to say real fast, THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone that left a kudos and comment on Chapter 1! It means so much to me to get feedback from you guys and it made me so excited to write! So, as a reward, here is Chapter 2 already!!

I don’t have a beta so I apologize for any mistakes lol I tried to edit!

Beverly’s Song - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths Eddie’s Song - I Want To Break Free by Queen)))

Ben Hanscom is standing on the street corner right next to Eddie’s Bookstore. He is a heavy set man with wide cheeks and an even wider belly. He was beautifully fat and his cheeks always shown a pretty pink. He was working on a beard lately, and it was growing in pretty nicely. He wore thick pants and a green hoodie that said “Save the Rainforest!” He has been standing there for nearly five hours, trying (in vain) to catch the attention of a passer by or stranger.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, would you be interested in- Okay, well, then have a nice day…”

“If you aren’t busy, Sir, I would love to go over some articles with you- Okay, have a good day then.”

He was currently volunteering for a non-profit that was based around the melting of the ice caps. Already becoming vegan with Mike, Ben had heard about the decline of habitats for polar bears and other Antarctic wildlife. After that he had almost immediately went online and hunted down for any way he could serve his time to prevent anymore loss of life. It turns out that the biggest and only reason for the loss of life is- you guessed it- global warming. Something that not many have even admitted was real.

You can see how Ben was having a very hard time getting people to donate or even just sign his petition. He tried giving out newsletters as well, but no one seemed to care about what he had to say- no matter how urgent or important he assured it was.  

“Hey, guys! Could I steal your attention for a few moments? Oh? No, it’s okay. Have a good one.”

It really was starting to wear down on him, too. He had only started working for the non-profit two days ago. He hadn’t even been able to reel one person in to hear what he has to say. Having so many ignore and blatantly not make eye contact with him was having him nearly losing his faith in humanity itself. He was tired and his passion for this subject was going painfully unheard.

The only thing that has helped Ben manage to keep his sanity is the soft serenade of the Guitar Player across the street, at the other corner on Main St. Throughout the day they had both awkwardly made eye contact with each other. Everytime they did Ben gave a friendly wave while the man played his guitar, who gave an curt nod in return. They had done that almost a dozen times by the end of the night and Ben considered it to be the nicest thing to happen to him all day.

The tall stranger had only a water bottle, a large backpack, and a guitar case propped open with a little sign that said “Like what you hear? Almost shed a tear? If you want, You can donate right here!” Even his sign was a little tune, Ben thought in amusement. If Ben had literally a dollar to spare, he would definitely leave a donation of his own after listening to the Performer’s music for the past few days.

Ben suddenly realizes he is staring again and chances a look up at the Performer. The stranger is already looking back at him, a little smirk on his lips as he tunes his guitar. He gives Ben a little wink and nod. This makes Ben blush, face becoming somewhat hot, and he promptly decides that that is enough of him embarrassing himself for the day.

Turning around, Ben gets into his backpack that he has propped up against a stop sign and starts packing up his things. Before he can stow away his pens and clipboard, though, he feels a finger poke his shoulder. He hadn’t even noticed that the music had stopped across the street until he comes face to face with the music player himself.

“Uh, hi.” Ben says, eloquently.

“Hi.” The man replies. Now that he was up close Ben saw that his eyes were a dark onyx that were contrasted nicely by his light brown freckles. His black hair came down to his shoulders and his curls were nothing if not unruly. He wore a light blue dress that buttoned all the way up and fell just above his shoes, which were red vans. He also had a small beard beginning to grow on his face. He looked as outlandish as you can imagine, and the stranger’s get up made Ben try his best to resist the smile that was creeping on to his face.

“What’s your name?” The friendly stranger asks, a small smirk still playing on his lips. He was really beautiful, in a completely feminine dueling masculine way. Ben couldn’t decide truly what he thought the stranger was.

“Ben- Ben Hanscom.” He replies easily enough, trying his best to stay calm even though every part of him for some reason was completely elated that this strange person was striking up a conversation with him. Ben was going to blame it on not being able to talk to anyone else all day.

“People call me Trashmouth!” Before Ben can even react to the weird nickname, he immediately grabs Ben’s hand and lifts it to his lips, giving it a quick peck. “Nice to meet you, Ma Cherie!” Trashmouth says, in a funny and poor French accent.

This makes Ben laugh out loud and Trashmouth drops his hand just as quickly as he had kissed it. Who is this guy?

“So what are you petitioning for over here, Mr. Handsome?” Trashmouth asks, accent gone, and softly strumming the strings of his guitar now. It was as if he constantly had to be doing something with his hands, Trashmouth was almost jittery with his movements.

“Oh, uh, I have been trying to educate people on some of the issues our planet is having because of global warming. I have been wanting to talk about landfills, depleting ice caps… Stuff like that.” Ben says, ending his sentence flatly. He was still pretty discouraged from his long day of no luck.

“I’d love to listen to what you have to say, Ben Handsome. Why don’t you give me a lecture and I can sign that clipboard of yours?” Trashmouth offers, a considerate smile painted across his face.

Ben light up at the offer, his own smile growing even wider. “What, really?! You’ll be the first person I have gotten to sign! You really sure you want the whole spiel?”

“Ab-so-lutely. I’m not doing anything else of importance. Why don’t I try to help save the world with Benny over here?” Trashmouth says, patting Ben on the shoulder.

Ben quickly goes into a short lecture, obviously rehearsed, and he stumbles over his words a few times but overall gets it perfectly. He is so excited he is nearly winded by the time he is done with his short rant on the rainforests and the o-zone. Trashmouth just nods and has a serious look on his face the whole time, trying his best to indicate to Ben that, yes, this is interesting and important. Just as Ben is about to lead into another lecture, Trashmouth cuts him off.

“Nerd Alert.” He says slyly, but winks at Ben again, letting him know he is just teasing.

“Well, no… It’s actually pretty interesting.”

“Ben, in total honesty, do you know how cool this is? That you actually give enough of a shit about our planet to spend your whole day standing out here in the off-chance you can talk about it? You got my signature, for sure, Handsome.” And with that, Trashmouth takes away the pen and clipboard in Ben’s hands and goes to filling out his information.

“Honestly, thank you- Thank you so much. I was under the impression that more people would want to be educated on this, but I just have the sneaking suspicion that people think I am trying to sell them something.” Ben says, voice a little forlorn.

“Well, you don’t look like a vacuum salesman to me. People’ll come around.” Trashmouth says, handing him back his things. Next thing Ben knows, Trashmouth is walking across the street to his pile of belongings. The sun is beginning to set now, and they both should be packing up for the night.

Ben is smiling a grin that hurts and begins looking over everything that Trashmouth had filled out. He did everything perfectly, but left out a few major details.

“You forgot your phone number and your address!” Ben hollers from across the way, waving the piece of paper in the air. “Don’t have either of those, Handsome!” Trashmouth replies easily, zipping up his guitar and throwing the case strap over his shoulder. “Sorry!” And with that, Trashmouth begins walking down Main St. and slowly disappears out of Ben’s sight.

Who is that guy? Ben thinks again, this time in awe.

Beverly’s work week, on the other hand, had passed by incredibly quickly. It was just past 7 o’clock now and she was already late for Friday Night Dinner. She wipes her flour-covered hands all over her soiled apron from the mixing she had done that day. Grabbing the broom to sweep the small shop, she begins humming to herself.

It was basically closing time and the whole bakery was deserted. It had been an overall slow day, but it always passed by in a flash for Bev just because she enjoyed her work. Baking was a science, after all, she would always say. It took brain power. She was enthralled with it all. The cookies, the cakes, especially the breads. That was her specialty. You could ask any locals and regular and they would say that her italian cheese and herb bread was to die for.

She took incredible pride in her work, as well as the shop she worked in, so staying after closing to clean and tidy up was never an issue. She let the other girls go home early while she shut everything off, sweeping as she goes along.

Right as she is about to turn the neon OPEN sign off, however, the front door bell rings and a tall figure walks on in. She turns around to see who is actually is before she gets swept up in a large hug, nearly lifted off the ground with the force of their affections.

“Trashmouth, put me down!” Bev giggled, identifying her hug-attacker immediately. The broom drops to the ground as she releases her hold to pound soft fists into Trashmouth’s shoulders.

“Sorry, Ms. Marsh, I couldn��t resists sneaking some snuggles in.” He says smoothy, setting her down. He then gives her an adorable crooked-toothed smile and scratches the back of his head bashfully. Bev just stares at him with a cheery expression, not being able to hold back the small giggles as she looks over his outfit.

“A button-up dress is trendy in men’s fashion nowadays, I’m assuming?” Beverly asks, not at all unfriendly in her questioning. This makes Trashmouth laugh as he looks down at himself, wiping invisible dirt off of the bottom of his dress.

“I think I’m the last person who would know what was trending in fashion, to be honest. Dresses are just so much more comfortable than pantaloons, you know?” Trashmouth says, giving a little twirl so that the dress billows out for a moment.

Bev gives him a big nod, “Ooh yes, I definitely know.” She says, gesturing to her own little sun dress. She is wearing little leg warmers too, of course, because of the cold weather.

“So what brings you back to my humble little shop?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see you. Say hi, walk you home. I haven’t seen you in the last few days, I was starting to think you had forgotten about little ol’ me.” he says, raising his eyebrows at her and pouting out his bottom lip. She gives him a playful shove as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, of course not. I’ve actually just been sleeping in late before my morning shifts, I’m sorry if I haven’t been able to catch up with you lately.” Bev replies, picking up the broom again and continuing her sweeping. Trashmouth sits on top one of the small tables with his legs criss-cross so she can clean.

Trashmouth and Beverly had first met on one of her evening walks home from work. A large man had happened upon her, and had gotten extremely predatory. Long story short, Trashmouth came to the rescue. Now, whenever he gets the chance, he makes sure to stop by Beverly’s Bakery and walk her straight home from work. Her “Friendly Neighborhood Trashmouth” he once said.

“Oh, don’t be sorry. I just miss seeing my favorite little red head.” he says, running a hand through her hair, making her thick curls frizz up in an endearing way.

“Hands off the merchandise, wise guy. You break it you buy it.” She was giving him such a wide smile her cheeks were pink. Her blush plus the golden light from the sun setting hitting her freckled face made his heart nearly melt. What a sight it was. She was radiant in the sun. Her green eyes in full glory.

“Hey, I don’t know if I told you, but I work on Main St. too. At the corner on Neibolt. I play music. A guitar, mostly. You should come hang out and listen sometime.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you played! That’s fucking awesome. For sure. You should come audition at my friend Bill’s bar, it’s just a few businesses away from here actually. It’s called The Gallery. They have musicians come and play for free drinks every weekend. If you’re actually any good, that is.” She gives him a teasing wink.

“Oh, fuck off.” He chuckles. “I might have to go check it out tonight, then. If I’m actually any good, that is-”

“I’d actually love to hear you play something sometime.” She says, cutting him off softly. She finishes up her sweeping and stows the broom away.

“Why not right now? You have to sing with me though…” Trashmouth quickly unzips his guitar case and busts out his acoustic. He slings it over his shoulder, strumming a few times before pointedly looking at Beverly. “What are we singing tonight, Marsh? Give me a good one.”

Beverly is just laughing at him as she takes off her apron, throwing it in the dirty washcloth bin behind the counter. “Oooh no, you are not making me sing, absolutely not!”

“You have to do it, Marsh! This isn’t going to be my typical one man show, I need my back up singer.”

“Fine, fine. Only if we do The Smiths.” She challenges, giving him a pointed look and grinning wide with her arms crossed. She walks over to the shop doors, motioning for him to follow her outside.

They both walk out onto the sidewalk, air crisp with cold wind. She turns around and locks the doors to her bakery before finally turning back to Trashmouth. “Walk me home?”

Trashmouth doesn’t reply, only follows behind her while he begins strumming his guitar, starting to sing right in the middle of the song. His singing voice is strangely high compared to his talking voice, so replicating Morrisey’s deep tone strains his vocals in a few places.

Driving in your car

I never never want to go home

Because I haven’t got one…

Anymore.

Beverly laughs out loud, shaking her head at him. He just keeps strumming the same tune, nodding along, before he raises his eyebrows at her as if to say Well? Your turn. Beverly obliges and continues into the next verse.

Take me out tonight.

Where there’s music and there’s people,

And they’re young and alive!

The sun is almost completely set now, the only thing illuminating the both of them is the lamp posts shining down on the sidewalk as they stroll. They continue to sing and skip and dance next to one another, serenading each other all the way to Beverly’s home.

Right as they are about to walk up The House’s porch, they finish their song pretty poorly. Neither of them can reach the deep and low tones of Morrisey’s voice, so when they sing their voices crack and give way. It doesn’t stop them from singing their hearts out, though.

If a double-decker bus,

Crashes into us,

To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die!

They break off there poor rendition of the classic song with their laughter. Both of them are nearly gasping with the effort and rever that they put into their performance, and he gives her some applause. She bows a few times, her hair wild and tangled.

Before she leaves, Bev pulls him into a firm hug, smooshing the guitar in between the two of them. It is kind of painful, but neither of them complain one bit.

Beverly waves at him and begins to walk up her porch steps before she stops and turns again, running back over to him.

“Oh, T, I almost forgot! I snagged these out of our pantry before I closed up. They are for you.” She gingerly hands him a little box. Trashmouth opens it, and it is full of beautifully decorated pastries and breads.

“Made em myself.” His mouth waters just looking at them, some of the small granules of sugar glimmering in the moonlight. They looks delicious.

“Aw, Marsh! You didn’t have to do this for ol’ Trashmouth!” He nearly yells, slinging one arm over her shoulder. “I’m honored. I can not wait to eat the artistry that is Beverly Marsh’s baking. Thank you.” he says earnestly, tossing around her amber hair around again. She wiggles out from under his arm and shrugs.

“Don’t sweat it, T. If you ever find yourself in a crunch and are looking for some food, you just let me know. I know sleeping in a tent is your preferred resting place, but you don’t ever have to go hungry. Just let me know.” She says casually, like its nothing. Because it isn’t for her. She is just helping out a friend. A friend who just so happens to be homeless, but a friend nonetheless.

She squeezes his arm one last time before walking away again, vanishing into The House.

Trashmouth smiles his entire walk back to his campsite.

Beverly pushes open the front door to the Losers’ home and walks straight into the dining room. She can already hear bickering going on in the kitchen, yelling and the tossing of kitchen utensils. Their usual goofball debauchery. Suddenly, Ben is being shoved out of the kitchen doorway by Mike’s strong hands while Stan stands behind him, sassily telling Ben how poor his cooking skills really are.

“Ben, you’re never going to work in this town again! Did you seriously just dump a cup of fucking SUGAR instead of FLOUR into that bowl?!” Stan’s critical voice came, followed by a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, well, that’s why I keep Bev around! So I don’t have to do stuff like this!” Ben hollers back, pulling a chair out so he can sit at the dining table.

“Oh yeah, THAT’S why you keep me around, Ben? To do the cooking?” Beverly pipes up, finally catching all the boys attention. Ben whirls around to face her, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“N-no! Of course not, Beverly! I was just- Stan had just- They kicked me out and I just-” Ben stutters and fumbles over his words. It wasn’t the first time he was caught putting his foot in his mouth.

“Hey Bev!” Greeted Stan and Mike, before they both strategically avoided the confrontation by going back to the kitchen.

Beverly can’t pretend to be mad at Ben for long, though. He looks absolutely mortified and affronted. His cheeks are a three shades darker pink than they usually are, and she feels bad for putting him on the spot.

She finally relents and lets out a chuckle at his expense. She walks over, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving him a fat smooch on the cheek.

“I’m just giving you shit, Benny. I’m sorry. I love you, too. How was your day on the corner?” Bev says, running her hands through his hair reassuringly before she takes a seat at the table herself.

He talks a little bit more about the non-profit, global awareness, all the shit Ben normally talks about. Difference is, even though he has repeated the same facts and studies to her a thousand times, she didn’t mind hearing him repeat himself. She lets him ramble on and on, and just smiles at the passion that pours out of him.

While they are quietly talking and the other boys are getting dinner prepared, Eddie finally makes his appearance. It wasn’t normal for him to come home last, especially not after the sun has down. Beverly looks over at him and he looks completely deflated. Back hunched, hair falling in his face, and a big frown plastered on his lips.

He definitely seems irritable, Ben notices. Ben gets up out of his seat, takes Eddie’s bags out of his hands and sets them on the couch beside them. He leans down and gives the top of Eddie’s head a kiss, motioning for him to join Bev and him.

“Hey sweets, what’s up? Something happen?” Beverly asks, opening her arms. Eddie doesn’t fight it and walks right into her waiting embrace, sitting on her lap and leaning his head on top of hers.

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but he is interrupted immediately by Stan yelling abruptly and throwing something loudly in the kitchen. This is followed by obnoxious laughter, mainly from Mikey.

“I’ll go tell them to pipe down.” Ben says sweetly, patting Eddie’s hand and getting up from the table.

Eddie and Beverly speak in hushed tones. The boys had quieted down in the kitchen, but they whispered. Even when they were just having a simple conversation they always acted as if they were trading secrets. Maybe they were. They imitated a pair of twins closeness with ease.

“I talked to my mom today.” Eddie says simply. This makes Beverly raise her eyes, turning her head to look at him directly.

“Was she nice to you?” She asks. Eddie just shrugs, looking down at the floor where both of their feet are touching.

“She told me what she always tells me. That I shouldn’t be so far from my true home, that I am wasting my time and money with school. That I need to come back to her. That I’m took delicate to take care of myself.” The more Eddie speaks his eyebrows furrow deeper and deeper. He is almost hot in the face by the end of his small rant. He looks back to Beverly, a look of determination in his eyes.

“I don’t need her.”

“You don’t need her.”

“I’m not delicate.”

“You’re not.”

“And I can take care myself. I don’t need anyone telling me what I can and can’t do anymore.” He says with finality. Ever since the shackles of being a minor were released, he finally felt freedom. He could speak his mind. Make his own money. Set his own rules. He didn’t think he could ever let it go.

Beverly just nods reassuringly, hugging him a little tighter. It wasn’t often that Sonia Kaspbrak called Eddie, but when she did, it was always to undermine him. Beverly, as well as the rest of the Losers, thought that her bi-monthly calls always just set Eddie back a step or two. His self esteem was fragile already, he didn’t need the extra help from his mother to send him into a whirlpool of insecurity and uncertainty. His anxiety helped do that for him.

Eddie doesn’t tell Beverly everything, though. Of course he doesn’t. He keeps the deepest of his feelings to himself.

In all honesty, it wasn’t just the phone call from his mom that had upset him. It was his whole day. It was unbearably slow, he had no homework he could work on, and it was a beautiful day out. He was stuck inside organizing books and relabeling the shelves.

Eddie also felt incredibly lonely. So much of his time was spent alone, and it was getting harder and harder to take. But he needed this job. They all needed him to have this job. He had thought about quitting multiple times this past year, but no other positions across Main St. had opened up. What he really wanted was to work for the Flower Shop next door to Bev’s bakery. But they were an even small building than his bookstore, and he knew that if they needed an extra hand the position could be filled quickly.

He wished that he had someone. He felt the aching sadness for it all day.

He did have Beverly. But Beverly also had Ben. Eddie didn’t have someone like that, someone to hold him when he cried at night. Someone to kiss his eyelids in the morning. Someone to tangle limbs with. He just wanted intimacy. And while he had the Losers, and a long-time crush on Bill he only recently got over, he just never got the butterflies for any of them like he knew he could have. He was in love with them… But they didn’t fill that romantic gap like he needed. Sure, he had had a few ‘boyfriends’ before, but they were mostly used for his sexual awakening more than for settling down.

Eddie wanted someone to call his.

Just then, Big Bill come bounding down the stairs. He is in a red button up and dark jeans. He is finishing up tying a skinny black tie around his neck when he smiles over at Bev and Eddie, little hearts dancing in his eyes as he sees his friends for the first time today.

“Good morning.” Bill says, patting his tie against his chest.

“Bill, it is eight at night.” Beverly giggles, patting his arm while he gives a quick hug to a pouting Eddie.

“Well, it’s my morning! These overnight shifts have been killing me lately. I hate not being able to see any of you, and I have to go to work literally right now .” Bill sighs.

This makes Stan crane his long neck around the kitchen doorway, giving Bill a disbelieving look.

“You’re not staying for Friday Night Dinner?!” He asks snappily.

“Nope, sorry Stanny, not tonight. I got called in early because Shelly couldn’t make her shift. And to top it all off, tonight is the big 80s dance party, it it is going to get fucking crazy. I have to get there early before everyone shows up to the bar to prepare.” Bill is already walking towards the door, grabbing his jacket off of their coat rack.

“But please do save me a plate, Stan. I wouldn’t miss your cooking for the world.” Bill says, giving Stan a cute little smirk and Stan just smiles right back at him. “Okay, Billy.”

Before Bill puts his hand on the doorknob, however, Beverly basically lights up like a Christmas tree, throwing her hands up in and air and yelling an “AHA!”

Eddie jumps, putting his small hand over his heart before glaring over at her. “Jesus, Bev, you are going to give me a heart attack, what is it?”

“Eddie! Sweets! Let’s go the fuck out tonight! That will cheer you up, right?!” She says the statement like its a question but Eddie knows she isn’t looking for an answer. Her mind is completely made up. They’re going.

“Ugh, Bev, no. I’m really not in the mood. I feel like I had the life sucked out of me by an energy vampire or something.” Eddie pleads, his head hung low. The literal last thing that Eddie wanted to do right now was go see other people have fun while he wallowed in his loneliness and drank a vodka tonic.

“AS SOON AS WE ARE DONE WITH DINNER WE ARE GOING OUT, BIITCH!” Beverly yelled. “HEY, BOYS, ARE YOU COMING TOO OR WHAT?”

Bill’s face split open into an incredibly large smile. He would get to hang out with his best friends after all. He knew they would just loiter around the counter while he bartends, like they always do.

“Nope!” “Me either!” Come the voices of Stan and Mike, both of them obviously wrapped up in whatever tomfoolery they were usually pulling together. “It’s Saturday tomorrow, we have to open the tea shop early anyway!”

Ben finally comes walking back out of the kitchen, setting a few plates of food on the dining room table. “I’m in. I’d love to come with you guys, Beverly.”

“Alright, it’s final! Ben, Eddie, and Bev out on the town. It isn’t going to know what hit it.” She cheered, spinning around to shoot Eddie a gorgeous full-toothed smile. He couldn’t resist her.

“Okay, Bev. But only or a few hours-”

“Victory! Stan, Mike, hurry up with the grub so I can get Eddie’s gay ass to The Gallery!”

Eddie was definitely in over his head. Definitely.

After dinner, Eddie and Beverly took a few minutes trying on different outfits, and then the three of them were walking down Main St towards Bill’s bar. Eddie was wearing tight black jeans and a white polo. Inconspicuous, simple, and would hopefully help him blend into the background. The last thing he need tonight was unwanted attention.

Beverly and Ben were holding hands, swinging their arms in between one another. Eddie smiles at them, walking a little bit slower and trailing just behind.

Ben and Bev’s relationship was a strange one. She knew how much Ben adored her. Loved her, even. And more than the usual Loser Love for one another. He had since he was 13 years old. His love was endlessly deep and ragefully romantic. She knew. But it never stopped her from dating other men, or women, and keeping an open invitation for anyone who wished to flirt with her.

And Ben let her. Sure, they shared a room and bed together, but Ben grew up with Beverly and knew just how stifling and abusive her father was. Ben wasn’t here to keep Beverly on a leash, and certainly didn’t want to smother any of the radiance she exuded. She always came home to him, and that is what mattered to him. That he was the favorite. (And he was.)

Their relationship just worked, and that is what mattered to them. They were both incredibly happy.

It made Eddie only half jealous.

They eventually made it to The Gallery, and Eddie quickly took a seat right smack center of the bar counter. Bill walked over to him immediately, giving him a large smile.

“What’ll it be tonight, Kaspbrak?” He teased.

“Vodka soda, Bill, you already know my order, you dork.” Eddie laughs, his eyes and nose crinkling. Ben and Bev walk up behind him, giving their orders to the other bartender.

“I know, I just love asking.” Bill slides the drink over to him and winks. Ben and Bev receive their drinks and immediately hit the dance floor. The bar is pumping Heart of Glass by Blondie and the crowd it singing along.

“Aren’t you going to do dance?” Bill asks, wiping up a spill on the counter.

“No. I really didn’t feel like coming, but you know Beverly. Once she thinks she comes up with a great idea…”

“… She sticks to it.” Bill finishes knowingly. “Well alright, sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything.” And with that, Bill walks to the other end of the bar counter.

Eddie spends the few half hour just people watching. A lot of the people dancing had dressed for the occasion and were dressed in ridiculous neon clothing and legwarmers. 80s music blasted from the speakers, and Eddie could barely hear himself speak. It was the exact opposite of his entire work day earlier that evening, and he felt like he was almost getting whiplash.

He eventually finishes his drink and gets another from Bill. Just as he is about to get his drink handed to him, another body walks up to the counter, their arm brushing Eddie’s.

And what Eddie sees nearly takes his breathe away.

Just in front of him is a tall man with unruly black curls tied up into a loose bun on the top of his head. His thick eyebrows perfectly match a pair of dark black irises. The man is wearing a long blue button-up dress that had small little white flowers all over it. It rested just above his shoes.

Eddie had never seen anyone who looked so peculiar, yet so undeniably beautiful. The man’s jaw was strict and square, but it was matched perfectly with a feminine and full pair of lips. Lips that were talking.

To him.

“Uh- w-what?” Eddie says, blinking a few times before looking up to meet the man’s eyes.

“I said, hi! What’re you doing here all on your own, gorgeous?” The stranger asks, voice nearly yelling over the music from the dance floor.

“W-what?” Was Eddie hearing this gorgeous creature correctly?

“I said, you’re quite a sight for sore eyes. I was wondering if I could keep you company?” The man flirted, lowering his head so that he was at eye-level with Eddie.

“If… You want to…” Eddie was at a loss for words at first, but quickly caught back up with himself. He couldn’t stop the nervous twitch of his hands around his drink, however.

“What’s your name, Stranger?” He flirted. Was this flirting? Was he doing this right?

“Richie.” He says, taking a quick sip of his drink, not breaking eye-contact with Eddie. “What’s yours, jitterbug?”

“E-Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“Eddie, huh? Well, Eddie Spaghetti, what do you say to dancing with me? I have been watching you, and you haven’t gotten up from this stool. Are you with anyone?” Richie asks, quirking his head to the side while his eyes smoldered into Eddie’s.

“O-oh. Yeah, I’m here with my friends Ben and Be-” Just as Eddie is about to finish his sentence, a song comes on slowly over the speakers.

Richie’s eyes go wide, and an enormous grin takes over his features. He grabs Eddie’s hand away from his vodka soda and pulls him off of his stool.

“What are you doing?!” Eddie nearly shrieks, his anxiety through the roof despite the two drinks in his system. Richie was pulling him towards the dance floor.

Richie took him towards the crowd, but didn’t take them into the ocean of bodies. He stopped just short of the actual dance floor and took both of Eddie’s hands in his. Richie started swaying his arms, happy to dance just outside of the gaggle of people.

“I love this song! Dance with me, Eddie!” Queen’s I Want To Break Free was absolutely blasting through the speakers, and Richie looked elated.

Eddie had never actually danced before. I mean, he had, but not really. He would bob his head up and down to a song he liked, or shimmy his shoulders while he sat in one place, but he had never actually… Gotten up and danced before.

Richie’s long hair quickly escaped from its hair-tie capture so that when he moved his head back and forth it swished and swayed under the powerful and colorful lights. Eddie was simply captivated.

“Dance, Eddie Spaghetti! Like this!” Richie released his hands then, and began to dance wildly all on his own. His chest was heaving with the effort, and in Eddie’s opinion, he looked absolutely adorable and ridiculous. This guy didn’t have one actual dancer bone in his body and he was going bananas. His blue dress swished around as he moved. Eddie laughed out loud at him, and it just made Richie smile wider.

“You look crazy!” Eddie yells. Eddie still doesn’t dance though, only awkwardly keeping his arms cross against his stomach as he looks around nervously. Richie was going to have to use another tactic.

“I want to break free! I want to breaaakkk freee!” Richie sings at him, grabbing both of his hands again and looking him deep in the eyes. “Sing with me instead, Eds!”

Eddie looks around sheepishly again, still very self conscious. He does start to relax though, because even after Richie did his strange and hilarious dance performance, nobody was looking at them or paying them any mind. Eddie let a little smile play on his lips before he finally gives into Richie entirely, and belts out the next few lines with him as the lights dance on their faces.

“I have got to break freee! God knows, God knows I want to break free! ” Eddie really loved this song too know, if he was being honest. Richie laughs out loud, and they both sing to each other with huge smiles on their faces as they lightly swing their arms back and forth, not unlike Ben and Beverly did on their walk here.

I Want To Break Free slowly melts into the next song, Talking Head’s This Must Be The Place. Eddie thinks that now the song is finished that Richie will pull away, but he does the opposite. He pulls Eddie close and places his hands on his hips. Eddie reciprocates by placing both of his arms on Richie’s shoulders, lightly swaying back and forth as the music plays.

“Have I met you before? I’m getting crazy deja vu. Like I was meant to meet you here.” Richie admits, a playful dance in his eyes and a crooked-toothed grin glued to his face.

“Well, I work at Eddie’s Bookstore on the end of Main…” Eddie begins, still a little bashful.

“That’s it! I work on Main St. too! Right across the street from there!” Richie says brightly, like this is the best news he has ever heard.

They don’t talk for almost the entirety of the song, just glancing at each other while the music continues to play boomingly around them. Richie sings along to a few of the more ridiculous lines, and Eddie can’t help but keep laughing at his absurdity. Eventually though, the music ends, and Eddie comes back to reality

“I have to be getting home now, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie says, lightly pulling away from Eddie’s embrace. But Eddie doesn’t want him to go yet.

Eddie pulls him closer for a moment longer, putting his lips up to Richie’s ear.

“I want to see you again.” He says urgently and breathlessly, hoping that he whispered it loud enough in the taller man’s ear.

“I’m sure you’ll see me around, Spaghetti Man.” Richie says with a grin. Just then, Richie smooshes a soft kiss to his cheek and unwraps himself out of Eddie’s arms.

Eddie is almost disappointed, watching Richie’s back walk away from him. Before finally coming back to his wits.

“Hey, Richie! Don’t call me that!” He yells, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Richie just laughs, giving Eddie a little wave and salute, and then he is out the bar doors.

Notes:

Poor Eddie is already so fond of Rich and its like,,,, buddy,,, ily buddy but seriously

A few headcannons: -Bill is literally head over heels for each of the Losers and kisses them at any given opportunity like a lovesick dad -Ben is the most understanding and giving and is relentlessly picking up after the other Losers messes around the house and never complains he just wants to help ugh -Beverly is the glue to the group. She holds them all together, she is the absolute center of attention. Shes like the Sun to their Solar System and I love her -Richie is honestly the weirdest little shit and I can’t believe he is real -Without Richie growing up with him, I imagine it took Eddie much much longer to stand up to his mother and his other bullies. I feel like Richie’s constant compliments and bickering with Eddie really helped him get a backbone and grow a self esteem, so without Rich, Eddie is just a little bubble of self conscious anxiety -Without growing up with Eds though, Rich is this honest to god weirdo that just can’t figure out how to fit into society (hence the homelessness and overall tomfoolery)

[satoruvt]

repayment

im !! super excited for this !! i love bill a lot

pairing → bill denbrough x reader

summary → the losers club has a slumber party at bill’s house, and when you wake up in the night to get a drink, you spend some time with bill.

word count → 853

 When Richie brought up the idea of a sleepover at Bill’s, no one really protested. The only reason he brought it up was because Bill had mentioned he got a trampoline, and Richie (and you, too) wanted to know what it’d be like to spend the night sleeping on it.

 So within the next hour, all of you went to your houses and got sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, and snacks (“Don’t forget stuff for s’mores!” Bev had said) to spend the night. Bill welcomed you all in, leading the way to his backyard. Once outside, you noticed there was a twelve pack of some off-brand soda and a few water bottles.

 The second Richie saw the trampoline, he dropped all of his shit and immediately ran to it. Eddie was yelling at him about the thousands of ways he could break a bone or die from a trampoline accident, but he didn’t seem to care, still jumping.

 The sun was starting to set, now - the blue of the sky turning into a mix of orange and pink and purple. Bill’s father came out to start a small fire in the fire pit, then left with a tired smile. All of you huddled around the fire, putting marshmallows on sticks and holding them above the fire. Despite everything that had happened the last few weeks - figuring out what happened to the missing kids, trying to fight an evil clown - you were having the time of your life.

 “Marshmallows are so weird,” Beverly said at one point. “Like, they’re these sugary, soft, squishy things. And you can never get tired of them.”

 “Yeah, just like Eddie’s mom.”

 As if on cue, everyone spoke “beep beep, Richie,” without hesitation. He only grinned.

 Pretty soon, everyone was laying together on the trampoline. It was a warm night, so blankets weren’t really needed, but everyone was snuggled up in one anyway. The small giggles and whispers slowed not long after everyone had gotten on the trampoline. Still feeling awake, you decided to grab a drink.

 You carefully walk around those laying down (in your peripheral vision you notice Eddie and Richie cuddled together, and you smile. You’ll have to remember to tease them about it tomorrow) and jump off the trampoline. You walk quietly to a table near the house, grabbing a soda can and opening it as quietly as you can.

 It’s at this point that you decide to look up at the sky, and you smile to yourself once you do. The sky is littered with millions and billions of stars, mixed in with colors of blue and purple and a little bit of gold mixed in.

 “Buh-buh-beautiful, huh?” A voice says softly, and you jump before turning around.

 “Jesus Christ, Bill,” you say, putting a hand over your heart. It’s racing. “You scared me.”

 Bill smiles sheepishly. “S-Sorry.”

 A moment of silence passes before you speak, smiling back at him. “You’re right, though. It is beautiful.”

 The two of you talk - softly, so as not to wake anyone - and you notice things. You notice the way the conversation flows easily between you two, and never slows. You notice Bill’s eyes, how they shine with passion and determination.

 You notice his lips.

 That’s when you pull yourself out of your noticing, because you’ve never thought of Bill in that way before. Your mind’s reeling at a mile a minute until Bill speaks after a small pause.

 “I-I’m sorry w-w-we got you into this mess, with... I-It. With all the sh-shit that’s been going on, i-it’s just…” he pauses, sighing. “I-I don’t know. The whole thing’s t-t-terrifying, and y-you don’t have a-any reason to help us out, really-”

 “I care about you guys,” you cut him off, voice quieter than before. “You mean everything to me, all of you - I’m going to be there every step of the way until this… this thing is gone. Even if It’s not coming for me specifically, I sure as hell won’t let It get any of you.” You finish, looking at Bill.

 You’re noticing again. You notice how close the two of you have gotten. You notice Bill’s eyes, how clear they are, how they’re shining.

 You notice his lips.

 “I-I just wish there was someway I c-could repay you,” Bill says, almost whispers, and you see that his eyes flicker to your lips for half a second. He leans closer, just a bit.

 You swallow, and you feel your face heat up. “I can think of a few things,” you whisper, and you’re gone.

 Noticing seems to be a common theme tonight, because you’re doing it again. You notice how warm Bill is. You notice his arms around your waist, and how they feel right there. You notice, once you pull away, that his lips taste a bit like chocolate and marshmallows. S’mores, you remember, smiling inwardly.

 Bill separates himself from you, not by much, barely an inch. You realize you’re both blushing as red as roses and that realization alone makes you feel hotter.

 Through your dreamy haze, you say with a smile, “That’s one way to repay me.”

BONUS!

“Also, I noticed Richie and Eddie cuddling. Do you have a polaroid?” You ask Bill with a mischievous smile, and he grins.

“S-Sure do. This’ll be h-h-hell for them in the morning.”

[theartificialdane]

Galactica, chapter 249

Deck the hall with boughs of holly, fa la la la la, la la, la la. The Puerto Ricon sun is shining, and christmas is celebrated in the land of Galactica!

Thank you to everyone who has been patient in the wait for this chapter, and thank you to @samrull @toriibelledarling and @veronicasanders for their help, creative minds and their writing skills <3!

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Fame held onto Patrick’s arm. The comfort of Jinkx’s family jet, that would normally calm her right down, was offset by her fear of flying in such a small aircraft, and with all the people in here? What exactly kept them from falling out of the sky. Patrick squeezed her hand, and Fame took a deep breath, trying to center herself like she had learned in her hypnosis class. She had to admit though, it was nice to be sitting in such a big, plush seat. Hopefully the sedative would kick in soon.

“Of course you can.” Patrick gently titled Fame’s head, giving her a kiss. “Everything will be fine.”

***

Courtney chattered excitedly with Adore, getting all the latest gossip about her band and the stunning goddess they’d found to play bass, when Bianca tried to catch her attention from the other side of the plane. “Hey, baby! We’re about to take off… You wanna come sit over here?” Bianca flashed her dimples, gesturing to the spot beside her.

“Uhh, thanks, I’m good,” Courtney said, kissing the top of Kylie’s head and turning back to Adore, who raised an eyebrow.

“Damn, B, what’d you do now?” Adore teased.

“Fuck off, Adore.”

“Now now, be nice, sis.” Adore flashed a cheeky grin.

***

“Baaaaaaaaabe, come ooon.” Pearl smiled as she leaned over the table. “Let me taste!”

“No! Katya is helping me make these for your mom.” Laila laughed, fighting Pearl off as she tried to get her hands on the small fruity cakes.

“Just a bite! I’ll do whatever you want.” Laila suddenly got a flash of Pearl in bed, her girlfriend panting above her as she rode the dildo that had become their favorite, the thick black silicone so familiar to Laila.

“Okay okay, you can have some.” Laila smiled and held out a small piece of vzvar, Pearl taking a bite and moaning in pleasure.

“Mmh.. Thanks babe.”

“You’re welcome, now get out.” Laila pushed Pearl. “I have to work.”

“Thank fuck. You guys are nauseatingly sweet.” They both turned to see Trixie standing at the kitchen counter, chopping potatoes for Ivan’s dinner. Laila blushed, her entire face going red as she realized Trixie had been there the whole time.

***

“So...Alaska…” Fame attempted to change the subject, turning to the slender blonde. “I’m so glad we get to spend this time together outside of the office.”

“Yeah,” Alaska agreed. “It’s gonna be...awesome.”

Fame cleared her throat, trying to think of something to say to her. “How...um...how are the spring palettes coming along?”

“Hey Alaska, I bet this is exactly what you were hoping for your vacation, eh?” Bianca taunted, pinching Fame’s thigh. “Just chatting about work with your boss?”

Alaska giggled, nervously sipping her champagne.

“Oh, stop it! I was just saying that she’s doing a great job! You’re such a beast!” Fame swatted Bianca’s hand away, getting into a play fight with her, Bianca happy that she could distract her friend from the horror of flying, Patrick giving Bianca a gentle smile as Alaska slipped away.

***

“These vegan spring rolls are delicious!” Courtney smiled at the flight attendant as she finished her lunch, before she turned to Jinkx, bouncing in her seat excitedly. “Omigod Jinky, guess what?! You know that theatre agent you set me up with? Well, he got me a meeting with that producer friend of yours, Sharon-”

Adore’s eyes got huge and she squeezed Courtney’s arm, whispering, “/Abort, abort!/”

Courtney gave her a confused look, asking, “Huh?” and then turning back to Jinkx, who had a terrified smile plastered across her face. “You know, the one producing Cabaret? Anyway, I met with her last week to talk about playing Sally and she’s so funny, and I think we totally hit it off. She’s a little worried about my accent, which is hilarious because most Americans can’t even tell the difference, and--WHAT?!” She glared at Adore, who was giving her frantic eyes and shaking her head violently, interrupting her amazing news for some reason.

“Alaska,” Fame said, tilting her head, looking at the blonde who was finishing her lunch. “Didn’t you and Sharon used to date? I’m sure I’ve heard about it somewhere.” Fame smiled, happy to have a topic she could discuss with Alaska that wasn’t about work.

Adore’s grip on Courtney’s arm tightened like a vice. “OW! Stop it!”

“Uh, yes, we did.” Alaska cleared her throat and polished off the rest of her champagne.

There was a long moment of silence.

“So…” Bianca began, attempting to break the tension, “Patrick...fuck any cute assistants lately?”

***

“Are you sure the gift for your mother is good enough?”

“I’m absolutely sure.” Sutan smiled as Violet looked at the silk scarf she had wrapped up for Christmas one last time, before finally putting it in the car. Sutan had come to get her at her apartment, her boyfriend driving the batman car Raja gifted to him for his birthday. “She loves scarves, and as you know, Muslim christmas is all about the gifts.”

Violet laughed. It was kind of weird to her that Sutan’s family celebrated christmas, but she wasn’t saying no to a few days on Long Island in Sutan’s mom’s cosy little yellow house.

Frida yipped, and Sutan picked her up, the chubby little dog that could no longer be described as a puppy wagging her tail as she was zipped into her doggy seat in the back.

***

Jane sipped on an iced coffee, watching some footage in the cramped Post Production offices, when her field producer, Jeremy, walked up behind her, holding a flash drive, a sly grin on his face. “Check out this sequence I just cut together,” he said.

Jane took the drive and popped it into her system, playing out the reel. It was a sequence over the course of three holiday parties, focused on Bianca Del Rio and her famous predilection for pretty blondes. She was flirting with models, business associates, laughing and flashing her killer dimples. Intercut was Courtney glaring on, looking more and more murderous in each shot, ending with a shot of her literally dragging Bianca away from a pretty young thing and throwing her against a wall. Jane burst out laughing. “This is amazing, remember when we thought she’d be the boring one this season?”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, and it gets better. So we found this girl…” he threw some tabloid pictures down of Bianca and a cute blonde making out in a club. “They seem to have had a thing during London fashion week, last year. She’s a singer, got a record deal remarkably soon after this little affair. Sound familiar? She’s also younger than Courtney, so that’s gotta hurt.”

“You’re /so/ evil,” Jane said. “So, what, you’re sending her to Puerto Rico?”

“Exactly. We’re there anyway to film Courtney’s concert. Might as well add some drama!”

Jane winked. “Good job, man. We may have to give you a raise.”

***

“Oh /man/,” Adore collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. “That was a long fucking day, trapped in a steel tube with those motherfuckers, and one of my presents got squashed! It sucks.”

“Tell me about it…” Alaska grumbled, rolling her eyes. “And I told you not to bring anything soft.”

“It’s not soft. It’s delicate.”

“That’s literally the same word.”

Jinkx sighed, halfway through removing her shoes, one heel in her hand, both Alaska and Adore looking at her. “I’m sorry about everything on the plane-”“

“I know,” Alaska replied tersely.

“I thought inviting that agent to Courtney’s concert was a nice thing, you know? I didn’t realize it was gonna mean Sharon—“

“I get it, Jinkx.”

“Well, I’m sorry. That’s all.”

“Fine.”

Adore groaned loudly, one arm covering her eyes. Both Jinkx and Alaska looked at her. “Can you guys, like, please just…not do this anymore? At least for the time we’re here? Because it’s really starting to take its toll on my fragile emotional state.”

Jinkx looked up at Alaska, whose face was suddenly filled with guilt. In the next instant, both of them were on the bed, tackling Adore and covering her with kisses.

She shrieked and giggled, lapping up the attention. “See, this is more like it…” she purred happily.

***

Courtney sank down into the warm water of the hot tub, the day’s tension melting away as the jets pounded against her sore muscles. She took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air, admiring the beauty of the Caribbean sunset.

“Room for me?” Bianca asked, standing above her with two cocktails in her hands.

Courtney nodded, and Bianca slipped in beside her, handing her one of the drinks, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

“So...what do you think?”

Courtney leaned against her shoulder. “It’s even more beautiful than you described.”

Bianca smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Bianca, seriously! Did you have to put me next to Adore and her...whatever you wanna call that situation?” Eddy, Bianca’s brother, opened the sliding glass doors, holding his fiancée’s hand, making Courtney jump slightly.

Bianca looked up at her brother quizzically. “What exactly is your problem?” she asked. “Hi, Rose. How was your flight?”

“Great!” Rose exclaimed. She settled down at the edge of the hot tub, lifting up her skirt and dangling her feet in the water. “And I have no idea what he’s complaining about.”

“I’m complaining because I really don’t want to have to listen to my baby sister engaging in sexual deviancy on Jesus’s birthday.”

Eddy stood at the bar, pouring drinks for them, complaining loudly, when Fame and Patrick wandered outside as well. Courtney groaned, already annoyed with the lack of privacy, but it seemed like that was a big part of an American Christmas.

“If it helps, Eddy, most historians think that Jesus was actually born in the Spring. We just celebrate in December because of the Winter Solstice,” Courtney said.

“Are we really talking about Jesus?” Patrick wondered, settling into a lounge chair with a beer.

Rose giggled. “Eddy hasn’t been to church in 20 years. He’s just being a pain in the ass.”

“Sorry if I don’t think listening to Adore get double-teamed sounds like a relaxing vacation,” Eddy said.

“Gross, dude,” Bianca laughed, nuzzling into Courtney’s shoulder.

“Exactly!”

“Miss Bianca? Dinner will be ready in 5 minutes,” said Maria, the villa’s chef.

“Thanks!” Bianca called, rising from the water and wrapping a long flowing cover-up around her bathing suit. Fame snickered softly. “What, bitch?”

“No, nothing! It’s cute.”

“You got something to say, blondie?” Bianca walked over to Fame and poked her playfully with her foot.

“No! I just...I can never get used to seeing you in resort wear. It’s so...casual.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” Bianca bent down and began tickling her and she shrieked happily, slapping Bianca’s hands away.

Courtney clenched her fists under the water and closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cool tile.

***

“You see this one next.”

Violet gasped in delight as Sutan’s mom handed him a photo. “Oh my god!” Violet grabbed it, holding it into the light so she could see it properly. “Is that pink hair?”

Mani nodded, a smile on her face as well. Violet and Mani were sitting in the livingroom, Violet surrounded by photos of the twins, their mom having kept every tiny magazine mention they had ever gotten, and printed every photo they ever sent her. Frida was on the floor napping, snow falling outside the window. Violet and Sutan had gone up early, opting to spend the night at Mani’s so they could help her prepare for the christmas feast, and help her get everything she needed in order, though Sutan would never tell his mom directly that he was worried about her in her elderly years.

“Anada sometime silly boy, he think he was cool.”

Violet laughed, Sutan looked perfect in all of his awkward glory, his hair practically in a buzzcut and bright pink, Raja in the background of the party photo drinking beer.

“Can I take a picture of this?” Violet was already looking for her phone.

“You think that is best photo? Wait until you see high school times.” Violet’s eyes widened as Mani took yet another box.

“There’s more?”

“Anada look very cute in leopad pint.”

In that moment the door to the kitchen opened, Sutan walking in with a tray of tea and sweets that they had picked up on the way.

“... What are you guys doing? Is that my fucking high school yearbook? Mom!”

Mani and Violet both burst into laughter, Violet nearly doubling over as Sutan desperately tried to gather the pictures and speaking in rapid Indonesian.

***

“What the fuckin’ FUCK are you doing here?!” asked a delighted voice with a British accent.

Bianca spun around, and was suddenly greeted by an adorable young blonde, with perfect winged eyeliner and an angelic pixie-like face. Her mouth was open in surprise. She threw her arms around Bianca’s neck in drunken glee while the others looked on.

“Oh my GOD, it’s been ages! What a fuckin’ crazy-ass coincidence, eh?!” She pressed a kiss against the corner of Bianca’s mouth, giggling, then looked at Courtney, who was standing there as if she was trying to decide whether to throw up or stab her in the throat. “So this is the one who’s making an honest woman of you, huh Bianca?! Hi, I’m Zee. I had a sordid fling with your girlfriend back in her ‘I don’t do long term relationships’ days.” Zee threw back her head and laughed.

Courtney cleared her throat, wondering why Bianca wasn’t detangling herself from this pretty young thing, but determined to stay composed, especially in front of the Housewives cameras. “Hi, I’m Courtney…”

“It wasn’t that sordid...” Bianca said weakly, trying to keep things light.

“Whatever you say,” Zee winked, then exclaimed, “Omigod, Bianca! Remember that DJ at Egg? The crazy motherfucker with the gages?” She hugged her tighter around the waist, resting a chin on her shoulder.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Bianca flashed Courtney an apologetic look. The thing about Zee was, she was totally harmless, and tipsy, and having a good time. Sure, she might be crossing a line, but Bianca wasn’t about to be a dickhead to the girl. They’d ended on good terms.

Adore and Alaska stepped closer, clearly worried that something was about to go down. Alaska’s eyes drifted to Courtney’s hands, which were clenched into tight fists.

“I did what you said and slipped her my demos and she’s totally playing them all the time now! You’re a fuckin’ genius.” Zee stood on her tiptoes to kiss her again, and Bianca turned her face, making sure that the kiss landed on her cheek and not her mouth. Zee fluttered her lashes. “You’re such a tease…”

Adore finally couldn’t take it anymore. With an approving nod from Alaska, she stepped forward. “Zee, right? Hi, I’m Bianca’s sister. I /love/ your eye makeup.”

“Omigod, thanks!”

“You’re welcome! Can I buy you a drink?”

“Suuuuure!” Zee released the grip on Bianca’s waist and took Adore’s outstretched hand, following her to the bar. “Bianca, why didn’t you tell me you had such a hot sister?!” she called over her shoulder.

Bianca looked at Courtney, reaching for her hand. “Wanna dance, baby?” she asked softly.

“Not really, no.”

Fame and Jinkx wandered back over to the group with Rose, laughing.

Alaska grabbed Courtney’s arm and pulled her over to Jinkx, hoping to avoid any more tension. “Hey Court! Come tell us about your show! Maybe Jinkxy can help you rehearse tomorrow!”

***

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“It’s not a good idea. It’s a great idea!” Pearl smiled and wrapped her scarf around Laila, pulling the other woman in for a kiss. Laila wanted to be annoyed and maybe even upset, but she couldn’t when Pearl was kissing her, the other's lips so soft. Pearl pulled away and took another sweater which she carelessly threw into her bag, even though Laila knew it had most likely cost more than Turbo’s last vet visit.

“Don’t worry cutie. My mom is going to love you.”

“If you say so.”

“I don’t say so. I know so, also you’re bringing her the most bitchin Christmas present!”

“I am?”

“Yup.” Pearl laughed and held up a small black box. “A Cartier nouvelle vintage bracelet that’s a complete replica of the one she wore to her college graduation.” Pearl opened the box, and Laila recognised diamonds immediately.

“Pearl, I- I can’t afford that. Why would you get that from me? What about you?”

“I’m giving her a hand painted worlds best mum mug, from that pottery class I did with Max.” Laila couldn’t help but smile. Pearl had always been horrible with gifts, her girlfriend generous to the extreme in her daily life, but she sucked horribly at presents. Pearl shut the box, a smile on her face. “You’re my favorite ladies. I want you to get along, and as they say. Diamonds are a girl's best friend.”

***

Courtney threw open the doors of the balcony and stepped outside, tilting her face to watch the first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon. She breathed in, feeling her nerves settle as the warmth of the sun crept into the purple sky. She lifted her dress up over her head and tossed it down on the lounge chair, letting the fresh air caress her body.

Arms slid around her waist, and she jumped slightly, then relaxed as Bianca’s lips found the back of her neck.

“Baby, please don’t be mad at me…” Bianca murmured into her skin, pressing against her from behind. “I can’t bear it.”

“B…” It wasn’t exactly that she was angry. She didn’t think that Bianca had done anything wrong, really. It was more that this was, again, a reminder of the constant doubt that plagued her. That girl had been vibrant and funny and beautiful, and the chemistry between them was real, and so...Courtney closed her eyes, turning around in Bianca’s arms, knowing that this same discussion would only exhaust her, only make her irritated. “I’m not mad.”

Bianca smiled, dimples deep in her cheeks. “Good. You know, it’s officially Christmas Eve now. How about I show my angel how thrilled I am to have her here?”

Courtney swallowed, could feel herself breaking apart. When would she stop feeling this way? Would she ever stop feeling this way? Like she was only here by luck, some ordinary girl who Bianca had chosen for an inexplicable reason and everything in her life was on borrowed time while she waited for the other shoe to drop. Because if one thing was clear to Courtney after tonight, it was how utterly, utterly replaceable she was.

Cupping her chin, Bianca brushed their lips together softly, whispering, “I love you, so fucking much…” She took both of her hands and pulled her into the room, leaving the doors open so that the gauzy curtains blew in the breeze, laying her gently down on the bed.

Bianca quickly shed the rest of her clothes, tossing them to the floor, sitting down on the bed and leaning back on her elbows, turning her head to look at Courtney with that seductive grin that never failed to make Courtney’s pulse quicken, especially when her eyes swept up and down the blonde’s body. Courtney took Bianca’s face in her hands, pushing her backwards, straddling her on all fours.

Bianca slid her hands up Courtney’s thighs, gently cupping her ass. Her mouth found a stiff nipple and she swirled her tongue around and around. Courtney shivered with desire as Bianca’s tongue continued to lick and toy with her nipple. A hand slid up to play with her other breast and Courtney arched into it, soft sighs and little whimpers escaping her mouth.

Bianca rubbed her knuckles gently around her entrance, already so wet, and then withdrew her hand, causing a pitiful moan. Courtney pressed their bodies together, grinding against her desperately.

Chucking gently, Bianca pushed her hips away, holding them apart. She moved her mouth to her second breast and sucked hard on her nipple. Courtney let out a whine as sparks raced through her body and caused her to thrust into the air, the swollen feeling in her abdomen growing.

“Oh god, Bianca, PLEASE!” She moaned as Bianca tossed her onto her back and used her knees to hold her thighs down. She bent down and kissed her, long and soft and deep, letting her hands wander over her body with a feather-light touch, her skin hot and flushed. She grinned as Courtney moaned again in tearful frustration.

“I love you…” Bianca whispered, kissing a trail down her jaw, rubbing her clit harder. “I love you,” Bianca repeated, mouth moving down her collarbone, hands sliding over her trembling skin. “I love you…” she added, lips pressed against Courtney’s belly, tight with tension so intense she felt it might burst open.

Courtney nodded, panting, as Bianca’s mouth finally found her swollen clit, tongue swirling around and around. Courtney gripped her hair like a vice, crying out in relief as she started to come. “Oh /GOD/…”

Bianca sucked on her, stroking her quivering thighs until her fingers loosened and her body went slack. Then she gathered her up into an embrace, kissing her temples, holding her close, murmuring, “Do you know how much I love you, angel?”

Curling tightly against her warm body, Courtney sighed contently. “Mmmhmm…”

Bianca held her tighter. “You’re the best Christmas present I’ve ever had, baby.”

***

“What a good boy Ivan, you’re such a good boy!” Trixie smiled brightly as he fed his son, little Ivan’s hair sticking up in all directions as he munched on a christmas morning feast of a bowl of fruit, his brand new Baymax shirt already filled with stains, but Ivan was giggly and happy. He and Katya had woken up at the crack of dawn, properly more excited than Ivan himself when they led him into the living room, the lights on the tree bright as they unpacked their presents, Ivan loving every single thing Katya had gotten him from the grocery store. Trixie picked Ivan up and took him to the sink, quickly rinsing off the little boy, as he was already falling asleep in his arms.

“Trixie?”

Trixie didn’t look up, too focused on making sure at least some of the food came out of the shirt.

“Trixie. Trix! I’m talking to you.”

Trixie looked up, and he almost dropped his jaw at the sight of his wife. Katya was wearing the exact outfit from the final scene of Grease, even her hair done in the perfect style. Katya had introduced him to the movie, and in a drunken state a few months ago, Trixie had confessed that he never seen anything sexier than that very outfit.

“Katya.. What are you?”

“Why don’t you tell me about it in the bedroom, stud?”

***

“Good moooorning, my loves, Merry Christmas!” Adore sang softly, climbing on top of her girlfriends, wearing a Santa hat and nothing else.

Alaska opened her eyes, a lazy grin on her face. “Morning…”

Jinkx whimpered a little. “I’m Jewish, can I sleep five more minutes?”

Giggling, Adore snuggled against her and kissed her cheek. “What if I tempt you with cocoa and marzipan coconut pastries?”

Jinkx sat up, red curls spilling down her back. “I’m up.”

Adore giggled and picked up a pastry from the tray, shoving it into her mouth. Alaska reached over and trailed a hand down Adore’s bare torso. “Cute outfit, li’l bear. Very festive.”

“Thank you,” Adore said, batting her lashes.

Alaska stretched, arching her back and continuing to dance her fingers teasingly over Adore’s soft skin. Adore leaned down and kissed her, hands tangling in her hair, pressing their bodies together. Jinkx pushed Adore’s hair off of her shoulder and bit down gently, wrapping an arm around her waist, the other one snaking down her belly.

Alaska’s hands were on Adore’s breasts, toying with her nipples as the younger girl began to pump her hips, rubbing against her vigorously, lips parted, whimpering. Alaska smirked at Jinkx conspiratorially, the redhead grinning back at her and scooting closer.

Jinkx slung a leg over both of them, continuing to wriggle her fingers between their thrusting hips, two fingers sliding easily inside Adore’s hot, wet pussy as a thumb rubbed her clit in circles.

Alaska buried her face in Adore’s neck, clutching her ass and grinding hard against the back of Jinkx’s hand. Jinkx sucked a bruise into Alaska’s pulse point, fingers moving subtly, patiently, her free hand trailing down the back of Adore’s milky thighs, then back up to her hair.

Adore whimpered, hips picking up speed. Alaska’s fingers moved back to her breasts, pinching her nipples. Adore’s eyes rolled back and she moaned, digging her fingers into Alaska’s shoulders. She turned her head to the side, capturing Jinkx’s mouth in a deep kiss, tongues struggling for dominance as she began to come, moaning into the redhead’s mouth, thighs squeezing Alaska’s hips tightly.

Jinkx withdrew her hand, pushing Adore onto her back, crawling down her body to lick her clean, sucking on her clit, holding down her thighs as she writhed and moaned. Alaska giggled, turning to her side and nibbling on her collarbone, fingers drifting over her slick, sweaty skin while she kissed her over and over. “Our pretty baby…” she murmured.

Adore moaned again, arching up against Jinkx’s mouth. “/Fuck!/”

The three girls suddenly jumped at several loud /BANGS/ on the wall. “HEY! CAN YOU PLEASE KNOCK IT OFF IN THERE!” yelled an irritated voice. “Some of us are trying to think about the baby Jesus!”

Adore raised herself up on her elbows, chest heaving, eyes narrowed. “SUCK MY DICK, EDDY!” she yelled back, then looked at the other girls and collapsed back on the bed in a fit of giggles, arms outstretched languidly. “Merry Christmas, babies…”

They grinned, snuggling in beside her and covering her face and neck with sweet kisses.

***

“Raj, move you legs!”

“Yes mom.”

Raja rolled her eyes, and Raven laughed as she snuggled into the side of her soon to be wife. They were all in the livingroom, gift wrapping all around them as they ate breakfast, little Frida napping on the floor, Violet completely absorbed in the books Sutan had given her, while Sutan was trying to teach Mani how to use the new food processor the twins had given her for christmas.

Raven couldn’t believe the wedding was only a few days away. In just a few days she would be Raven Amrull, and she couldn’t imagine a better Christmas presents... Except the new diamonds Raja gave her, and the fur coat, and the trip to Hawaii and also the most adorable Jimmy Choo’s, but Raven didn’t care about the material stuff in life. Not really, not when she had her Raja,

“What are you thinking about my angel?”

“That I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

Raven smiled and turned her head, looking up at Raja and fluttering her lashes for good measure. Raja laughed and leaned down, their lips meeting in a tender kiss, and Raven sighed, happiness washing over her.

***

The gang piled into the limo, sighing. They’d just attended Courtney’s concert on their last full day in Puerto Rico, followed by an afterparty, and were all exhausted, none more than the pop princess herself, who stretched out with her feet in Adore’s lap and her head in Bianca’s, looking like she might pass out.

“Did I do good?” she asked sleepily, as Bianca kissed her fingers.

“So good,” Bianca answered.

“Incredible!” Adore agreed.

“That venue was HUGE!” Rose said. “I’d have died.”

“I sort of died a little when I saw it,” Courtney laughed.

“I’m dating myself here, but I was so jealous that you got to do a duet with Ricky Martin,” said Jinkx. “It was amazing.”

“I know, right?! I’m so lucky he was available. I think we might do a collab on my next album.”

“Really?” Bianca asked.

“Yeah. Latrice is working on it. Fingers crossed. We talked about doing a video where we’re both in drag. How cool would that be?” she giggled.

“That is so hot,” said Adore.

Bianca cleared her throat slightly, realizing that this might be an easy way for her to bring up a collaboration with Farrah. She’d been trying to put that obnoxious meeting with the girl and her mother out of her mind, but the truth was, they did have some pretty disturbing leverage on her. “Have you ever considered doing other collaborations?”

“Yeah, definitely. Latrice is talking to Ciara’s people too, and so we’ll see.”

“What about like, someone more in your wheelhouse? I mean, that kid I was talking to at the Galactica party, Farrah? She’s apparently obsessed with you. Her momager called me and practically begged me to set a meeting. I told them to call Latrice--”

“Yeah, why would they be calling you?”

Bianca shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“And she’s not even a singer. She’s a sitcom actress.”

“Emmy winning sitcom actress.”

Courtney paused, grinding her teeth slightly. “How about we play a game called ‘Let’s not talk about the teenagers who flirt with you at parties’? Hmmm? Rules are really simple!” Her eyes flashed darkly.

“Uhh...yeah, sure. You look really hot in red, by the way.” Bianca tugged at her top. “So let’s talk about that.”

Courtney’s lips twisted into a smirk. “See, you’re already winning,” she said, pulling Bianca down for a kiss.

***

“It was a hate crime.”

“It’s a perfectly acceptable gift.”

“Don’t defend her!”

“She’s my mom Betty.”

“And that just makes it so much worse!” Betty kicked her shoes off and threw her handbag on the kitchen counter as they were finally finally finally back from christmas with Shane’s family. “She knew exactly what she was doing, and even worse, she made me wear it!” Betty pointed to herself, the bright green fuzzy sweater with a big orange B making her look like an escaped muppet.

“I think mine is cool.”

“Of course you do.” Betty rolled her eyes as Shane pulled at his purple sweater, a yellow S on it nearly burning her eyes. Betty sighed. “Can’t we just drink leftover wine and dessert and celebrate that we survived another year?”

Shane smiled brightly, pulling Betty into a kiss. “A true Christmas miracle.”

***

Flipping on the kitchen light, Courtney jumped slightly at the sight of Patrick at the table, sipping a whiskey, partially obscured by a pile of Christmas presents. “Jesus!”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Patrick said.

“No, it’s okay. I just didn’t expect anyone else to be up at 4 am. Plus you’re sitting in the dark.”

“Yeah, well…” he shrugged. “Sometimes you just need a minute, you know?”

“I’m sorry to bother you.” She bit her lip and turned around.

“Wait-”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to go. Grab a drink. Take a load off.” Patrick gestured to the empty chair.

Courtney nodded, taking a coconut water from the fridge and walking over to the table. “Uh, sorry I’m not wearing bottoms,” she apologized awkwardly.

“Could be worse,” he said. “At least I am.”

She chuckled and then sat down with a deep sigh.

“So. Trouble sleeping?” Patrick asked.

“Something like that,” she said softly.

“You know…” he began, then paused.

“Yes?”

“I...don’t want to overstep.”

“Go ahead. It’ll be refreshing to hear a new opinion for a change,” Courtney said.

“Bianca is really happy with you.”

Courtney looked at him, fingers nervously peeling the label off the coconut water.

“Look, maybe I have the wrong idea, but it seems like there’s...like you don’t totally feel secure with her. And so I just want to tell you...it’s not an accident. She chose you on purpose. You’re giving her something that no one else ever has. Including my wife.”

Courtney bit her lip, looking slightly ashamed.

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “I’ve seen the way you watch them. I don’t blame you. It’s unsettling, especially if you don’t know the history. If you weren’t there when it happened.”

“What history?”

“Well...let’s just say that Fame didn’t have the perspective that she has now. I was across the country, but even I could see that she was starting to have feelings for Bianca, that this alleged ‘friends with benefits’ thing was turning into more for her. And so Bianca ended it. Which is the only reason they’re still friends. Otherwise it would have ended in disaster.”

“Oh.”

“But you know, I can’t tell you how to feel. I can only tell you what I know, and what I see. And that’s that you make my friend really fucking happy. So...cheers.” He held up his nearly empty glass, toasting Courtney’s bottle of coconut water.

“Thanks, Patrick. You know, I don’t care what Bianca and Raja said during your fight with Fame. You’re not a robotic number-crunching cheater.”

Patrick threw back his head and laughed. “Thanks. And you’re not an empty-headed gold digging sex doll.”

Courtney giggled. “Cheers. To a safe flight back for the wedding of the century.”

“Oh god, yes. Get ready for The Raven Show.” Patrick laughed, toasting her.

“I’m actually super excited. Is that weird? I mean say what you will about Raven, but she knows how to throw a party. I think it should be a lot of fun.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “I admire your optimism.”

[evieoh]

yet another ridiculously long list of fic recs from me, mostly so I can keep all my favorites organized. There are so many amazing and heartbreaking and hot and funny and awesome fics in this fandom though.

smoke signals by duchamp  (Teen, one-shot)

This isn’t some film reel. There’s no soundtrack or script to dictate blocking. No action or cut. This is real life and Seth’s flesh and blood and bone and the closest thing she has to a friend. She doesn’t want to ruin that. Not that she could.

Rules of the Mexican Honeymoon by TashanaAmbrosia  (Mature/Explicit, multi-chapter)

There are two phrases that seem to chase their conversations like a snake swallowing its own tail: Please and This is as far as we go.

Seth and Kate deal with the aftermath of Season 1 and the loss of their families.

Tequila Sunrises by oxymoronassoc  (Mature, one-shot)

They stop at a motel. They get one room. For some reason, she thinks this means they'll have two beds. But this isn't your mom's grocery store romance novel. There is one bed with an oily cover that he flings back with disdain before throwing himself down on the sheets, his suit still on. She falls asleep clutching the edge of the bed. She's not sure why, but she does.

The next night, she barely holds the edge of the mattress. He still wears the suit.

Boy, I'm a hurricane headed for you by ronsparkyspeirs  (Mature, multichapter)

Kate is a sinner but Seth is a bad man.

he told me i was holy by liketogetlost (Mature, one-shot)

Seth is almost like a wild animal himself when he fights. When it’s all over he’s panting, sweaty and covered in the vibrant red blood that seems to follow them wherever they go.

But when Kate looks at him she still sees a wounded bird, wings broken and left on the side of the road.

a fresh poison each week by devil divine (jaegerjagues)  (Teen, one-shot)

Seth has visions, but they're nothing like Richie's.

Burn My Bridges by openhearts (Teen/Mature, series)

Kate thinks about asking “then what?” and she opens her mouth around the words before closing it again. She leans her head back against the headrest and lets her eyes slip closed. Seth is quiet now, for once, and she isn’t sure whether she’s glad of it or not. Isn’t sure she really wants to feel alone in her head.

Come From Way Above by liketogetlost  (Explicit, series)

Kate feels like she’s tapped into his center, like she knows how to pull and tug at his strings. It feels wrong, like no one should have that much power over another person but Kate wants it, wants to be selfish and just fucking pull until he unravels.

there in the dark with our two hands by artemidos  (teen, one-shot)

they share things that they can't talk about when it's light out. it's not easy to bare themselves, but sometimes just before sleep, it happens.

flintlocked by waterfront  (teen, one-shot)

‘au where seth doesn’t leave her and instead they both go to uncle eddie’s for help and end up having a sit down dinner with richie and kisa.’ (season 2)

Eddie was family and family was the only thing that could set them on the right course.

affection. by djcotrona  (Mature, one-shot)

Two months after they left the Twister, they found themselves holed up in a motel, this one was a little nicer than the others. There was promise of a pool, but when they arrived they found it lacked water. The weather was hot, had been all day, and the air conditioner was broken.

and I am telling you / I'm not going by ameliajessica  (Teen, one-shot)

"Be my guest," he spat at her, reaching across to push the door open.

or: an alternate take on the few days after Seth and Kate were meant to go their separate ways in season 2.

somewhere i have never travelled by quiet_rebel  (Explicit, one-shot)

This isn't a love story. | Set after the events of season 1.

come on mess me up by artemidos  (Teen, One-shot)

“When was your rebellious phase, exactly?”

“You could say it was already in full swing when I met you.” And then she laughed and all that Seth could do was look at her.

from our own separate sides by kendrasaunders/Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)  (Mature, one-shot)

there is only one bed in the motel room. this is nothing new.

down the road a ways by jdphoenix  (Teen, one-shot)

She’s got one of those faces, you know? Could be sixteen, could be twenty-one, could be anywhere in between. So he’s not really sure just how screwed he is.

opia by liketogetlost  (Mature, one-shot)

Opia - n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

WIPs

the good left undone by imaginedfables  (Mature, multi-chapter)

There's a story where she stays.

Carry The Ghost by imaginedfables  (Mature, multi-chapter)

This is what her beautiful life had come to. Dirty bathrooms in broken backroads and trembling hands with dried blood caked underneath her fingernails. A bag full of stolen money that she’d trade without missing a beat if she could only have at least one member of her family there with her for her to take comfort in. A baby growing inside of her from a man she didn’t know where to find and wasn’t sure she really wanted to, anyways. She is three weeks shy of turning eighteen, her whole family is dead or out causing death, and the father of her child is a heroin-addicted criminal: a wanted fugitive. Her mother was probably rolling over in her grave.

Valley of Decision by Pervymonk  (Teen, multichapter)

So things went fubar at Matanzas, and a mysterious woman sends Seth Gecko back to keep Kate from becoming possessed by Amaru. But can they stay together, or are they destined to be driven apart?

the pale morning sings by seren_ccd  (Teen, multichapter)

Santanico Pandemonium breathes in the smell of a thousand souls worth of blood, but it’s Kisa that breathes out, gives the site one last look, and starts to turn the bike around. It’s the flutter of a white sheet trapped on the branches of a bush that has her pause before she turns back to look more closely. Kate Fuller stares back at her.

aka 'Kisa and Kate go on a road trip.'

blood money, blood money by kendrasaunders/Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)  (Teen, one-shot)

seth and kate have a confrontation of sorts. how much does "i love you" cost?

until we hit the ground by Noducksinpond  (Mature, multichapter)

She remembered the blood flowing through her, the overwhelming need for revenge. Seth, Richie, Scott, you loved them so much and they used you until there was nothing left! Make them pay! Make them pay!

Worship like a Dog by xXBeckyFoo  (Teen, one-shot)

The four times Seth hears Kate after she's gone.

Transformation by OnlyInAutumn  (Mature, two-shot)

Richie turned Kate into a culebra at the blood well, and as a result of a guilty conscience, Seth offers himself up to her as Kate's personal blood source. As it turns out, Seth doesn't mind so much. Sexual tension and pining ensues.

WIPs

Find the Girl by quiet_rebel  (Explicit, multichapter)

Set after the events of the season 2 finale | It's a new empire, but who will rise up and who will fall?

Timeline by xXBeckyFoo  (Teen, one-shot (long))

That look was in Seth's eyes again, the one that made Kate feel like everything in life had led them to this moment. To each other.

you can dance to lady gaga by waterfront  (Gen, oneshot)

it's Kate's 21st and the whole gang comes out to celebrate. but there's one thing Seth can't quite get over: Kate Fuller kinda said she loved him. Did she mean it? If he asks her to dance, could everything literally implode? (plus sequel where do we stand/here or on that sink?)

only proof (that i need) by caramelle  (Teen, one-shot)

The thing is, as long as they're working a job, he has to spend a good three-quarters of his day calling Kate Fuller his wife.

… Not that it's a chore, or anything.

But, ultimately, it's fucking terrible, because he's officially stopped thinking twice before opening his mouth to say the damned words.

dead ringers by duchamp  (Mature, one-shot)

Preacher’s daughter, he thinks. Thinks of songs about a girl that can’t be reached, some angelic idol not to be sullied; where in others she crashes down to earth, is revealed to be a reviled mortal like all other common folk.

make you feel like you've been blessed by arsonistlullaby  (Explicit, one-shot)

There is still a lot of shit they have to deal with, even after they’ve stopped the apocalypse. Or maybe because they stopped it, depending on which way you decide to look at it.

Home by xXBeckyFoo  (Teen, one-shot)

They say it takes seven years to grow a new body, so Kate counts the days until she doesn't feel like ripping off her own skin.

Pop Goes the Question by madjm  (Teen, one-shot)

Five times Seth asks Kate to marry him, and one time he doesn't.

we are fated to grow old by waterfront  (Teen, one-shot)

Scott is angry with the world until the day he isn't.

Seth and Kate's relationship through the eyes of her younger, vengeful brother. Based on a prompt: Scott's journey to realizing and accepting that Seth and Kate are in love

Wake Your Ghost by quiet_rebel  (Gen, Drabble)

If Seth could do things differently, would he? | spoilers for 3x07

WIPs

journeys end in lovers meeting by notahotlibrarian  (Teen, multichapter)

It's been a long road from Bethel to wherever Kate Fuller is now, but her journey is not yet over.

After Matanzas, Kate decides to take a road trip to figure some things out. But no matter what turns she makes, all roads lead back to the Geckos. But is it destiny or is it her choice?

Good Grief by waterfront  (Teen, multichapter)

“But okay, fine, let’s say the answer to your problem isn’t with the girl you abandoned five years ago. The woman, or whatever, who can fix your brother lives in Bear Claw, Alaska.” Richie’s been bitten by something even culebras dare not mention. He’s dying. Unless Seth can repair his relationship with Kate, Richie’s a goner. Seems like enough motivation to seek out the girl you left naked in a motel room five years ago. But he left with questions unanswered, and with a new life built around her, Kate has secrets of her own. Seth should have remembered something he learned years ago: never underestimate Kate Fuller.

Catch Me Again by quiet_rebel  (Gen, multichapter, AU from early season 2)

“You caught me once; Maybe on the flipside, you could catch me again.”

bartered with bone by alamorn  (Teen, series of one-shots)

There's a thousand different ways Kate could have met the Geckos. They all start the same: preacher's daughter, criminal brothers. They all end the same: together and bloody.

When destiny catches up with Kate, she sees them all

let me go by writerlily  (Gen, one-shot)

Kate didn't think she would simply "hang around" after her death. She believed in Heaven and Hell and those were the only two choices for her.

She was wrong.

Born To Die by ArkStationsLibrary  (Explicit, one-shot)

Seth Gecko is an immortal who decides to make Kate Fuller part of his world whether she likes it or not.

Further Away by omqueenkay  (Mature, one-shot)

The one where Seth keeps calling Sonja by Kate's name.

The Road of Excess by KaelsMiscellany  (Teen, two part series)  (Richie/Kate /Seth)

In 1815 a stranger came to Bethel, Texas; and a few months later married the preacher’s daughter.

In 1816 he faced the firing squad for killing a murderer; and in that long winter his brother comes to town.

WIPs

like clockwork by writerlily  (Gen, multi-chapter)

she was not expecting something like this.

(soulmate tattoo AU)

These Eyes are Natural Disasters by kategecko  (Mature, multichapter)

She wasn't sure what they had done to her when they let the serpent bite her as she laid strapped to yet another altar but she could feel the snake’s poison flowing through her veins like molten lava.

profane words scrawled black across the sun by artemidos  (Explicit, series of one-shots)  (Seth/Kate/Richie)

live life for the moment by Roksed  (Mature, one-shot series)

No matter the distance, Kate and Seth always find each other again and again.

Alternate retellings of the TV series.

alone / with you by artemidos  (Mature, multichapter)

suddenly there's someone in her room and a new voice in her head. she never wanted this. he never wanted it either. they're both screwed.

the heartland by silenceisnotmyfriend  (Teen, one-shot)

If her momma could see her now, she would say "God is many things." (Soulmate AU)

Cigarette Daydreams by imaginedfables  (Mature, multichapter)

They’ve been showing up at the bar on random nights for the past three weeks.

It’s pretty hard to miss them, and even if she wanted to turn a blind eye to the American brothers, their loud mouths (Seth) and the fist fights they (again, Seth) tend to start would give their presence away in a heartbeat.

(And, no, Richie, she doesn’t have any horchata.)

put me through hell again by liketogetlost  (Explicit, one-shot)  (Seth/Kate/Richie)

Two boys in black came to her town, wearing the skin of Preachers, like her daddy. They got real close to her father and the people of her church, conning their way into their hearts and wallets.

(Kate runs away with conmen Gecko Preachers.)

he said to 'be cool', but i don't know how yet by artemidos  (Explicit, one-shot)

Bare feet glued to the tiled floors that led into the room, she’d stood and stared for a good minute. His arms bulged with muscle and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. In fact she couldn’t see beyond the table to know if he was wearing anything at all. Was this the type of guy her mother always brought home? Men with tattoos curling up their arms who sat in her kitchen wearing next to nothing?

girl, i'm just trying to kiss your neck without a word by longhairandbarefeet  (Explicit, Two-shot)

Kate always thought it was boring, going to races and sitting in the box with her dad while he blabbered on and on about the business, but her interest soon began to peak at the sight of Seth Gecko on their team. a.k.a. au where Seth is a race car driver.

daisies and diamonds by theredhoodie  (Teen, one-shot)

The year is 1946. The war has just finished, crime in Southern U.S. is on the rise, and a young woman named Kate Fuller is stuck in a life of repetitive boring days. That is, until the night when she happens to meet a real-life bank robber.

To the Store, To the Store by caramelle  (Teen, one-shot)

the one where Kate somehow always manages to find herself at the same grocery checkout line as a handsome, surly stranger in black.

delusional by artemidos  (Teen, one-shot)

kate and seth work at the dew drop resort. although 'work' is a little generous a word to use for what seth does. kate accidentally becomes the only way to get him to come do his damn job.

This Could Be Easy by caramelle  (Teen, one-shot)

It's not that Kate was trying to get partnered up with Seth Gecko. Honestly, she wasn't.

She just happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and sorely under-informed on extenuating circumstances.

Or, the one where Kate is a newly minted detective, and Seth is the grouchy old-timer she gets stuck with.

String of Blinking Lights by madjm  (Teen, one-shot)

"I knew when I married you I was getting Richie, too, but I didn’t know I was getting my beautiful home turned into ‘National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.’”

Don't Need Saving by the_stargazing_dreamer  (Mature, one-shot)

Strait-laced businessman Seth is spending the week in Houston and meets free spirited call girl Kate when Richie leaves him at a club. He doesn't need or want anyone in his life but his damn knight in shining armor complex is getting in the way of things. Kate is only in it for the money and definitely doesn't need or want some Prince Charming to come sweep her off her feet.

Sin by shadowglove  (Teen, multichapter)

When Kate meets her new neighbors, Seth and Vanessa Gecko, she immediately develops a crush on the handsome man. She does her best to fight her growing crush, but as she and Seth become friends, and she realizes that there is a LOT of trouble in Seth and Vanessa's marriage, Kate begins to fear that she will stop caring that her feelings for him are pure sin.

make you better by longhairandbarefeet  (Mature, one-shot)

“You heard me.” She replies leaning into him, close enough so he could smell the liquor on her breath, the same that lingers on his own. She swipes her tongue across her bottom lip, and loops her arms around his neck to pull him in to press an urgent kiss to his mouth. He doesn’t respond immediately, shocked at the simple and soft feel of her. His head is swimming, and he doesn’t know if it’s her mouth, hot against his own or the copious amounts of alcohol they’ve shared over the last few hours. It could be a little bit of both. a.k.a. the five times seth and kate have sex, and the one time they don't

WIPs

gun it coming off the line by artemidos  (Teen, multichapter)

seth and richie work for carlos finding and bringing in the people who owe him. they don't care about why and they never fail to bring someone in.

until kate, of course.

You Wanna Go To Heaven (but you're human tonight) by only_halfway_there  (Teen, multichapter)

If Persephone was a good little preacher's daughter, Hades was a Gecko, and the Underworld was somewhere in Texas, it might look a little something like this ...

From Hell With Love by corinnemaree  (Mature, multichapter)

She's an angel. He's a demon. She's supposed to save the world from the likes of him. Now she's on the run with him? Kate doesn't know how she ended up with Seth Gecko, but there are times where she doesn't complain about it.

this war of hearts by jynscassian  (Teen, multichapter)

Fate had a funny way of showing itself. Just when Kate decides that soulmates and destiny doesn’t matter to her, she happens to meet the very man whose initials are tattooed on her wrist.

blue and silver: the detective and her criminal by sarahandrelouise & waterfront  (Teen, multichapter)

It's an early morning line up and everybody is a little sleepy. Coffee is required. Flirting with criminals is optional.

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. by hasitsclaws  (Explicit, multichapter)

Seth Gecko is doing your usual, run-of-the-mill drug smuggling gig when he finds out he's going to be deported. His brother's solution to the problem? Get married, of course. All Seth has to do is find a nice woman willing to be his "wife" until he gets his green card, and Richie has an idea as to who's the perfect girl for the job.

Only problem is, Kate Fuller is a lot more than either of the Gecko brothers bargained for.

(Fake!Married AU)

[anavoliselenu]

Aced chapter 10

We’re eight days in. Halfway through.

This wasn’t supposed to be this hard. We were supposed to have Ace—the baby we never thought we’d ever have—and be blissfully happy. Get the unexpected cherry on top of our happily-ever-after sundae.

Not this bullshit.

I thought the hard part would be coming face to face with my dad. That would be our biggest challenge. That I would be the one to fuck this all up. I had no clue that while I was closing the damn door on the skeletons in my closet, Selena would slowly come undone.

The other shoe most definitely has dropped.

Humpty fuckin’ dumpty. The thought’s there instantly of another time, another place when I felt this goddamn helpless. This time though . . . man, I’m not sure what it’s going to take to put things back together again.

I walk over to the bed, to my whole fucking world, and hate that it doesn’t feel so whole. I press a kiss to the side of her shoulder and just leave my lips pressed there for a second as I breathe her in. Fight, Selena. We need you. I need you. I’m not sure if she’s asleep or not because she doesn’t react, and man, how I want her to react. I know she’s doing everything she can to keep herself together right now—for all of us—when it seems all she wants to do is fade away.

My scrappy fighter, who is so goddamn beautiful even now with circles beneath her eyes, will find her way. I just can’t pressure her regardless of how much I want to.

Or at least that’s what Google says. Her mind is betraying her.

Reaching down, I scoop up Ace, who thank fuck is completely content with his full belly, and carry him out of the room.

What the hell do I do with him now?

My hands feel like clubs when I change diapers.

My lullaby game is non-existent.

The blanket thing? How in the hell do you get it to look like a burrito? It’s not that fucking easy. So what if I used a four-inch piece of duct tape to keep it closed? Call me resourceful.

Or an idiot.

It’s taking everything I have not to cry uncle and call in the cavalry: our moms, Quinlan, Haddie. But then that’s admitting defeat and fuck if I want to admit that. Plus I can’t do that to Selena. She’s already so fragile. Asking others for help without her consent would be a slap to her face. Push her farther under water when she’s already drowning. Prove to her that I don’t think she’s capable of handling this.

And that’s not what my intention would be. But with Selena right now? Shit, I know that’s just how she’d take it.

Yet my cell sits on the counter and looks so damn tempting.

I’m a fish out of water. It’s not pretty. I’ve paced, I’ve rocked, I’ve swayed, and no goddamn dice. Ace won’t have any of it.

Just go to sleep!

“Look, little man,” I say, holding him up so I can look in his eyes as he continues to fuss. “I’m new at this. Have no clue what the fu—er, heck I’m doing here. Can you give a guy a break and go easy on me? Please?”

I can’t believe I’m pleading with a newborn—that I’ve been reduced to this—but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“It’s just you and me, dude. Boys club. Your momma’s having a tough time so you’re stuck with me. I know I suck . . . don’t have boobs like she does. Believe me, I miss them too. One day you’ll understand. But for now . . . you have to man up. I’ll show you how. First step, go to sleep for me.”

Please. I close my eyes for a moment, unsure what to do now. My mom’s not too far away and could get here quickly at this ungodly hour of night. When I open them back up, his eyes are closed.

Thank fuck for that.

THE DARKNESS CALLS TO ME. Pulls me. Drowns me in its welcome warmth. It’s like a lover’s kiss, addictive, all-consuming, and irresistible.

I don’t want to leave it.

But I have to.

I’m going to be better today. I’m going to look at Ace and want to wrap my arms around him and pull him in close to me, breathe him in, love him till it hurts.

Connect with him.

Be a mother to him.

My sweet Ace. My miracle baby. My everything.

The constant merry-go-round continues. Justin brings Ace in. He nurses. My head hurts, my heart aches, and my soul tries tirelessly to be what I need to be for him. For them.

It kills me when I can’t.

Justin watches, gauges if I’m better today. Or worse. If he should leave Ace with me a little longer. If it’s helping or hurting. There are lines etched on his face. Concern. Worry. Disbelief.

My mom. Short texts. Avoided phone calls. Unanswered messages. I know she’s worried. I know I can talk to her. But I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone.

Justin talks to me. Spends endless hours trying to pull me toward his light.

“I think I’m going to skip the next race or two. Denny deserves a shot at driving the car. Besides, I’ll miss Ace too much if I’m gone.”

You’re lying. You’re afraid to leave me here alone with him.

And yet I don’t respond. Can’t. Because I’m afraid of being alone with Ace too.

The silences screams around us.

“I talked to Zander today.” He tries again.

My Zander.

“He sounds better.”

If I could feel relief, I would. But I won’t believe it until I see it for myself.

“I told him when you’re feeling better you’re going to have him come back over. He misses you. The boys miss you.” I can see the look in his eyes that says, I miss you.

I miss you, too.

But Justin doesn’t stop, doesn’t dwell on the fact I don’t respond to his unspoken words. He just walks slowly back and forth with Ace on his shoulder and rambles on about nothing and everything until his cell phone rings or our son falls asleep.

Or Ace needs to nurse again.

The endless cycle. One I abhor and crave desperately. Because it means he hasn’t given up on me.

Guilt eats at me. Niggles in the back of my mind. Confuses me. I try. I really do. I fight the pull of the water over my head, drowning in the numbness that ebbs and flows before I can resurface from its hold. I fight to come up for air for my burning lungs, before plunging back down into its depths.

A text from Justin even though he’s just downstairs:

Remember this one? It still holds true. I’m here. Keep fighting. I’ll wait. All of Me by John Legend.

A flashback of our earlier times. An attempt to lift me up. A challenge for me to remember the feeling. The love. Myself. But I’m so buried I can’t even lift my head. Or take a breath.

I’m so sorry, Justin. I’m so sorry, Ace.

I’m trying.

I’m fighting.

Don’t give up on me.

I really do love you. I just can’t feel it. Or show it.

But I will.

It’s just the baby blues. I’m stronger than this. Than it. I just need a bit more time.

Tomorrow will be better.

“I CAN’T WAIT TO GET my hands on this little guy.” Haddie rubs her hands together as she leans forward and hugs me distractedly, already reaching out to grab Ace from me.

“Thanks for getting here so quickly. I didn’t know who else to call.” Who Selena wouldn’t freak out over, I add silently, because she sure as fuck is going to go ballistic when she wakes up to find Haddie here.

“Anytime. Besides I should be thanking you,” she says, lacing kisses on Ace’s head. “Selena’s been so set on getting his routine down before having visitors that I thought I’d never get to see him.”

“About that . . .” I say, taking a deep breath, knowing I’m crossing some kind of marital boundary I shouldn’t be, but am past caring. “She’s struggling a bit. Baby blues.” I nod my head to reinforce my words, to try and relay the rest of what Selena has forbid me to say. Haddie narrows her eyes at me.

“Oh, that’s normal. Everyone I know goes through it a bit. No worries, Donavan, I’ll cheer her up,” she says with a wink.

I know I need to move. Get to Kelly ASAP but fuck is it hard to leave Selena when she’s like this. This could go so wrong on so many fronts. Selena is going to kill me. She’s not going to be able to hide from Haddie what’s going on. And a tiny little piece of me feels relieved because I don’t know what to do anymore.

I’m lost. Like on-a-deserted-island lost and don’t have a clue how to help her.

This could push her over the edge or help reel her back. I hope to hell it’s the latter.

“Now go. Get. I know you’re in a rush. I’ve got it covered here,” Haddie says, interrupting my thoughts.

“She’s napping upstairs. I didn’t tell her I was going.”

“GO! I’ve got it under control. You’re starting to eat into my auntie and Ace time.” She starts to shut the front door, and I walk toward the car where Sammy is waiting in the passenger seat when she calls to me. “Hey, Justin?”

I turn, my hand resting with the car door handle, anticipation humming in my blood. “Yeah?”

“Kick Eddie extra hard in the nuts for me, will ya? He deserves it for fucking with my bestie.”

“Only if he’s still standing when I’m done with him.” I slide into the driver’s seat. Sammy’s chuckle fills the car, and my mind races.

“We’re good to go?” I ask, my eyes flickering back and forth from Kelly to Sammy to make sure we’re all on the same page.

“Yep. Dean’s got him inside. Everything else is in place.” Our eyes meet, his unspoken warning I don’t want to see is loud and fucking clear within them: cool my jets, my temper, and let the plan work.

And as much as I know he’s right, I turn my back to him and start up the walk without acknowledging I saw it.

No one’s going to tell me how to run my own show. I know the fallout for my actions. They’re clear as fucking day. But I also know Eddie’s fucked with my wife and my son, and if a man doesn’t stand up for his family, he shouldn’t be standing at all.

Going to jail isn’t an option. And not because I care about having a record or the media frenzy it would cause. I just can’t do that to Selena with how she is or to Ace with how little and helpless he is. But it sure as fuck doesn’t mean I’ll toe the line.

Bring it, fucker. I’m ready for you. Pumped and primed. Push my buttons. Pretty please.

Without knocking, I open the door to the rundown apartment. Kelly’s cohort, Dean, is standing just inside. Our eyes meet. A mutual understanding is passed between us—my thanks, his take your time—before he steps out without another sound.

I take three steps in. I don’t hear the door shut. I don’t notice that Sammy’s back is pressed against it, because my eyes are focused on the man sitting on the ripped couch in front of me: elbows on knees, head hanging down, leg anxiously jogging up and down.

Rage like I’ve felt very few times in my life roars through me. A fucking freight train of fury I need to keep on track before I let it derail.

I clear my throat. When Eddie realizes someone else is in the apartment, he whips his head up with eyes wide as saucers and mouth open. He looks like shit. Good.

“What the . . .?” he asks at first, looking startled, eyes blinking as he shoves up from the couch to stare at me again. And then he belts out a long, low condescending laugh that does nothing but confuse me and piss me off further.

“Something funny?” I ask, fists clenched, curiosity piqued why this is so amusing to him.

“I should have known,” he says with a shake of his head, his body visibly relaxing.

Give me a reason, you fucker. Just one.

“Were you expecting somebody else?” I know my threat is nothing compared to the others he will face. That unexpectedly works in my favor.

“Yes. No.” That taunting smirk is back front and center. “Your pretty little wife, perhaps.”

Bingo.

I’m across the room in two seconds. Arm cocked. Fist flying. The give of flesh against my knuckles. The thud of bone connecting against bone. The crunch that is nowhere near satisfying enough after what he’s done to my family.

The sound of glass shattering as his arm hits the lamp and knocks it over breaks through my silent rage, brings me back to the here and now. Reminds me that I want some answers before I finish what he started.

I don’t worry about the neighbors hearing us and calling the cops. In places like this no one pays attention. They all keep their head down and stay in their own trouble. I should know. I grew up in a place just like this. No one came to the rescue of the little boy screaming in pain on the other side of the wall.

The thought fuels my anger. Adds strength to my resolve to not be that person. To not stoop to the level of the man in front of me.

But God, how I want to stoop.

“Look at me,” I yell. My voice fills the room. He lifts his head up from where he’s landed askew on the couch, a red welt swelling on his cheek. “Don’t talk about my wife, again. This is between you and me, you fucking bastard.”

That chuckle of his is louder, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have to not unleash the fury I feel.

Because I want what I came here for. Answers first. Vindication second. And, oh how sweet that last one will be. He doesn’t have a clue what’s about to hit him.

“You want to settle a score? Go right ahead. You think you scare me, Donavan? Think again. You. Can’t. Touch. Me. You’re such a pussy you have to bring your goddamn henchman over there,” he says, pointing to Sammy standing silently at the door, “to do your dirty work for you.”

“I think your black eye will prove I can do my own dirty work just fine.” I look over my shoulder and lift my chin to Sammy to tell him to leave. It’s better this way. No witnesses. No he said, she said. Just my word against Eddie’s. Kelly’s so damn convinced that Eddie’ll sue if I touch him anyway.

Oops. Guess I already broke that rule. My bad.

“Is everyone in your life that tight on your string? One pull on it and they dance?” He raises his eyebrows as his eyes follow Sammy out the door. I glare at him. Bide my time. He’s so fucking arrogant I can see him itching to gloat about how he pulled this all off.

“You don’t know shit about my life, Eddie.”

“I know I won’t dance. So how does it feel to pull a string and get back a big giant fuck you, huh?”

“Is that what this was all about? Proving you’re better than me?” I ask, feigning indifference when I’m anything but.

Take the bait, Eddie. Feed your ego. Prove. Me. Wrong.

He rises from the couch and steps toward me with eerie calm. “I am better than you,” he says as he steps right into my wheelhouse. Tempting me like never before. “And I’m not stupid either. Lift your shirt up. I bet your pansy ass is wearing a wire. Trying to hook me on something I didn’t do.”

Is he fucking crazy? Like I’d let the police on this little get together we’re having. Shit, he’s going to wish I went with a wiretap.

“Prison was that good to you, huh?” I taunt as I lift my shirt up and turn around for him to see I’m not wired. “You into guys now?

“Fuck you,” he spits.

“No thanks,” I say, taking a step closer. “I want nothing more from you than answers. Everything else you’ve got coming to you is of your own making.”

He quirks his head, arrogant smirk spreading wide. “Thanks to your son, nothing else is coming to me. Sold that picture of him to the tabloids.” He sneers. “Made a mint and paid off old debts. Thanks to Ace, I’m free and clear.”

Fucking pompous bastard. Joke’s on him though. That’s the only reason I’m not throwing another fist into his face.

“Bravo,” I say as I clap my hands slow and deliberately. His eyes narrow, his jaw clenches. Good. I’m pissing him off. “You could have made more money with the video though.” The lie flows off my tongue, but I have to force the words out. “Bet you didn’t think of that now, did you?”

There’s the hook, fucker. Take a big bite so I can set it.

“Prison has a way of putting things on hold.” He glares at me. “But it also allowed me a lot of time to plan, to figure out how to get the fucker back who put me there.”

“Get me back? For what? Because I didn’t let you waltz out of my office with the blueprints, sell them to someone else as your own, collect the royalties, and get away with it? Are you out of your fucking mind? Did you think I was going to let you take what was mine and use it?”

“Seems like I took what was yours and did it anyway.”

The quiet comment’s double meaning—the stolen blueprints and exposure of Selena on the video—calls to me like a goddamn moth to a flame. This time I can’t resist.

He sees my punch coming and gets a quick one into my rib cage before my knuckles meet his jaw. His head snaps back. His body slams into the wall behind him. The sound of him grunting overrides my quick sting of pain from where he landed his.

My body vibrates with anger. Pure unfettered rage as I stare at the waste of space and talk myself out of finishing this right now. And of course because he’s a cocky fucker, when he lifts his head back up, that curl to his lips tests my restraint.

Jesus Christ. This is so much fucking harder than I thought it would be. To keep my shit together when all I want to do is show him the rage I feel. Throw punch after punch. Relieve the stress and pain he has caused us.

But that won’t solve anything.

“You’re a useless piece of shit. Deserve everything you get.”

“What I get? Like I said, Donavan. You can’t touch me. I did nothing illegal. The video wasn’t yours. I didn’t steal it. It was in a safety deposit box while I served my time. Shit, it gained in value.”

“Did that eat at you, Eddie?” I ask, stepping back into his personal space. “Taunt you every fucking day while you sat in a six-by-ten cell? You felt entitled to fuck with my family because you’re a useless piece of shit who can’t control his own gambling habits, so to save his own ass, has to rob Peter to pay Paul? It’s so much easier to place the blame somewhere else than realize you did this to yourself.” I poke my finger in his chest as I laugh under my breath. Taunt him. “Talk about being a pussy.”

Dangle the carrot.

“A pussy?” he asks, voice louder as he stands taller. Little-man complex front and center as he puffs his chest out. “You cost me everything!” His voice thunders into the empty apartment, spittle flying from his mouth, as he slowly becomes unhinged. “My wife. My kids. Everything!”

“Cheaters never prosper,” I say in a singsong voice. He starts to come after me, nostrils flared, fists clenched, but stops when I just raise my eyebrows at him. My empathy is nil. “You. Can’t. Touch. Me,” I whisper back to him in the same voice he used with me.

“Fuck you!” he screams, rage winding with each and every word. “You’re the one who caused all of this. Not me. You want to point a finger? Point it at yourself, you arrogant son of a bitch.”

“I caused this? You’re out of your goddamn mind!” Come at me. Please. Give me a fucking reason to go against my promise to myself. Motherfucker. My fists are clenched, my blood is on fire, and it is taking every ounce of restraint I have to not knock his teeth out. But I don’t. He’s baiting me. Doing a damn fine job of it. But a black eye is one thing. Knocking his teeth out is another.

But damn is it tempting.

His jaw clenches. Hands fist. His body physically bristles at my criticism. His ego so large he’s dying to correct me. “You’re such an arrogant asshole. I knew you wouldn’t part with your money. Even planted some seeds with the tabloids to put pressure on you. But fuck, you’re the goddamn golden boy so you figured you’d take the hit in stride. Get an ego boost from the attention it sure as fuck was going to get you. But not once did you think about that precious wife of yours, did you?” His words serve their purpose. Dig at me. Carve into the guilt. “Threw her to the goddamn wolves rather than pay me the money. You proved me right. You’re all about you and could give a fuck less about Selena or her reputation—”

“Don’t you fucking say her name again,” I yell. I connect with him, forearm against his throat as I pin him against the wall behind him. And he doesn’t resist. Knows damn well he’s pushing my buttons and he’s having way too much fun doing it because he thinks I can’t touch him. His lack of reaction a non-verbal, fuck you.

“Why? Does it bug you, Donavan, that I called it right? That when I knew you weren’t going to pay, I chose to fuck your wife over anyway. Prove to her what a piece of shit her husband is. That he chose money over her?” I press my arm harder into him, needing to shut him up yet wanting the torture of hearing more. “How did it feel when she pushed away from you? When she blamed you for losing her job? I hoped it ripped you apart inside. Fucked with your head because it’s nowhere close to how I felt when you took my wife from me.”

“Go to hell,” I grit out, unable to move because I know if I do, I’m not going to be able to stop myself. My fury has a mind of its own and all it’s waiting for is any little thing to set it off. “I’m not playing into your mind games. Because you’re leaving out that you’re the one who fucked up. You were so goddamn thirsty for revenge that you forgot about the loan sharks waiting to crawl up your ass. You let your temper get the best of you, uploaded the video without even negotiating, and were shit out of luck because your bargaining chip just went out the goddamn window. You lost your money and knew the bill collectors were coming.” I let the smirk play the corners of my mouth as my fists beg to finish the talking for us.

“I get the last laugh though, don’t I?” he taunts in his calm, even voice despite the pressure on his chest. “That little video made you the ‘it couple’ for the media. Caused a frenzy. Frenzy means more money. Upped the price of the photo of your son to a pretty penny. Killed two birds with one stone: paid off my debts and got a final ‘fuck you’ in with your kid.” He leans his head forward as far as he can so his face is inches from mine. He whispers but I can hear it clear as fucking day. “You’re not such a badass when every man in America is watching that wife of yours come and fantasizing it was them with her, now are you?”

Restraint snapped.

Promise to myself reneged.

The fucker deserves it.

This one’s for Selena

My fist flies. The impact is bittersweet as his head snaps to the side, blood spurting from his nose, a groan falling out as he brings his hands to his face and slides down the wall. I’m only allowing myself one.

Fuck it’s going to be hard to walk away. So I don’t. I step closer, rein in the fury and take the high road when all I want to do is crawl in the gutter with him. I reach out and yank his hair so his head snaps up to look at me.

“Don’t ever come near my family again.” My threat is plain as day. I let go of his hair, shoving his head back. “What is it they say about revenge? Before you try to get it, make sure to dig two graves?” I grate out, voice shaking, body amped up on adrenaline. “Maybe you should have taken the advice.” He looks up, confusion flickering in his eyes as to what I mean. His mind only focused on the grave he dug for me, and not the one he should have dug for himself.

Well, if he doesn’t get it now, he sure as fuck is going to understand in about two minutes.

“Fuck you,” he says as I walk toward the door.

I stop and hang my head down as a chuckle falls from my mouth that clearly says the same thing back to him. I let the silence eat up the room. Allow him to think this is all there is going to be.

And then I drop the hammer.

“You may have paid your debts back. But I think you forgot about the interest you owe them. I guess I’ll let someone else do my dirty work for me after all.”

I open the door and walk out of the apartment, a part of me wishing I could see the expression on his face, the other part of me never wanting to see him again. Holding my hand up, I ask the guys standing a few feet away to give me a minute. A goddamn second to catch my breath and figure out how the fuck I feel about getting but not getting what I wanted.

Because yes, I got my answers. Got them tied up with a nice little bow that normally I’d question the ease in which he confessed them. But I know that fucker inside out. I worked with him for years, watched him across the table from me in mediation and on the stand during the trial, can read him like a fucking road map. Do I question the answers’ validity? Not enough to care because he was so itching to one-up me. Desperate to prove he stuck it to me in the end—got me back—that he was so amped up on the high of it, there was no way in hell he’d be able to spin the truth.

So yes, I’m good with his explanations. But fuck if I’m not struggling with giving him what he deserves by my own hand. Selena. The reason. The answer. The goddamn everything. That’s why I have to be okay with this outcome. With someone else doing my dirty work to reach the same endgame.

And when I look up, they are there, ready and willing to do it for me. And for them. Three fuckers solid as tree stumps. Scary shit to owe money to these guys.

“You have five minutes to collect your interest before Kelly calls the cops. Make sure he’s alive when they get here. He seems to be in violation of a restraining order.”

Fucker has no idea what’s about to hit him. Fairly sure it’ll wipe the smarmy smirk off his face.

I think he’ll welcome going back to jail after they get done with him.

I meet Sammy’s eyes. I see the question there. You’ve wanted a piece of Eddie for so damn long, why are you walking away now?

But Sammy knows why. Probably can still hear the fury in my voice from the hospital all these days later. Her. Safety. Comes. First.

And if not, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to justify shit to anyone. I have two perfectly good reasons at home. They’re what matters. My end all, be all.

The reason I’ll never stop trying to be the man deserving of them.

I just shake my head and slide into the waiting car. I’ve wasted enough time on Eddie fucking Kimball.

Eddie will not be bugging you again. He’s in custody.

My feet stop as I look at the text. I need a minute.

Fuck, I need more than a minute. I need to drown myself in a fifth and take a whole goddamn evening to swim in it. So I can brood. Be that cocky asshole I used to be and not give a fuck about anything or anyone.

But I can’t.

So I sit down on the step to the front door and sigh, close my eyes, hang my head, and give myself sixty seconds I can’t afford to take. Because once I walk in the door, I need to be the same man who just walked away from Eddie without throwing another punch. Responsible. Mature. Selfless.

Right now I want to be anything but.

Or is it that I’m a pussy and fear what I’m walking in on? A goddamn powder keg of unknown. Will my wife be here? Because I miss her so fucking much. Or just that shell of her that I’ve grown to despise?

Yeah, you’ve been pussified, Donavan. Needing a woman to complete you when you used to not need shit. My, how the player has fallen.

I chuckle. Not for relief but because I need something to take the edge off all this pent-up emotion. And because I know what else I need to do when I go inside, what I need to tell Selena is going to happen, and I just hope the news about Eddie helps take the sting out of it.

The door opens behind me. It closes. And I wait for it. Know it’s coming.

“You okay?” Haddie asks as she sits down beside me and holds out a beer and a bag of ice to me. I look over to her, wondering how she knew I needed both. “Call it a lucky guess.”

“Thanks.” I take them and hiss when I put the ice on my knuckles. We sit in silence for a few moments.

“Shane stopped by unexpectedly. He’s in with Ace right now,” she says, surprising me. But I shouldn’t be. Shane’s one of Selena’s boys. He knows something is wrong just like I do. “Selena’s out on the upstairs patio. I talked her into getting some fresh air.”

“She is?” Hope tinges my voice. She must be feeling better. I knew she’d come around.

“Justin?” By the way Haddie says my name, I know: Selena isn’t better at all. In fact, it reinforces what I have to do even more.

“I’m calling the doctor in the morning.” I answer the unspoken question she left hanging out there, bring the beer to my lips, and take a long pull on it. And I hate myself for saying it because now I’ve put it out there, I have to admit there is something wrong with Selena.

And I don’t want there to be something wrong with her.

“At first I was pissed at you, at her . . . You didn’t tell me and I’m her bestie. I should know this. But I get it. I understand how proud Selena is. How she thinks she can handle everything and if she admits she can’t then it makes it even worse. But, Justin, this is about her getting better. Not about her being weak.” She leans her head on my shoulder and sighs.

I shake my head. Emotions fucked. Head more so. “I thought that dealing with Eddie today would help. I could come back and tell her he won’t bother us anymore. Maybe knowing that worry was gone might be what she needed to help her break through . . .” I stop when I realize how fucking stupid that sounds.

“It might help some,” Haddie says softly, “but it’s not going to fix her. We’re back to Matchbox Twenty on repeat again but there’s no music this time. In fact, there’s no sound at all. She needs help, Justin.”

I scrub my hands over my face. “I know, Had. I know.”

“She tried to keep it together for a while but I know her well enough to know better,” she says as I stand up.

“Thank you . . . for everything.” Our hug is brief, my need to see Selena ruling my thoughts.

“Always,” Haddie says as I open the door and walk into my house.

I hear voices, my hopes rising to be dashed once again when I see Shane on the couch talking to Ace. And fuck, for some reason seeing Ace hits me hard, validates the reasons why I walked away from Eddie.

My end all, be all.

Shane looks up when he notices me. “Hey,” he says as he stands immediately, eyes locked on mine. I know a threat when I see one but for the fucking life of me can’t figure out why Shane’s the one giving it to me.

“What’s wrong, Shane?” I ask, mind spinning as he hands Ace off to Haddie without letting me see him first.

“Can we talk?”

And if he wasn’t so dead serious, I might laugh at the sudden growl to his voice and stiffening of his spine. “Sure,” I say as I fire a look at Haddie and get a shrug in response. “Why don’t we head into the office?”

I lead the way, let him walk in first, and then shut the door. We take seats on opposite sides of the desk, and this time when he looks at me I see so much more than the threat from a moment ago. I see a scared kid trying to be a brave man and I’m not sure of the footwork of how to go about this.

Well, I’m scared too. For different reasons. But scared nonetheless.

“What’d you want to talk about, Shane?”

He shifts in his seat, fidgets his hands, and before he even speaks, I can see we need to spend some more time together so I can help him look controlled when he’s not feeling it. That’s a must for a man and I’ve dropped the ball in teaching him that.

“You’re supposed to be the one who takes care of her,” he accuses with more certainty than his eyes reflect, suddenly nervous now that he’s actually standing his ground. “I mean, you can see something’s wrong with her, right?”

I bite back the flippant comment I’d normally give—how I sure as shit know how to take care of my fucking wife. The exhaustion and the shit with Eddie make it so goddamn tempting, but I’m able to find my restraint. To realize this is Shane in front of me trying to make sure Selena’s okay.

I lean back in the chair and roll my shoulders, put myself in his shoes. “She’s having a tough go of it, isn’t she?” I meet his gaze. I don’t shy away from it, because I want him to see I understand Selena needs help.

“If you’re not going to get her a doctor, then I will,” he states, voice resolute but then throws me for a fucking loop when his eyes well up with tears before he quickly looks down.

“I’m calling one tomorrow. She asked me for time to try and get through it,” I explain with more patience than I feel. But it’s one of her boys, a part of her family. “But she’s not getting any better so I’m going to get her some help. She’s going to be okay, Shane.”

“Don’t say that,” he says between clenched teeth. He squeezes his eyes closed and his face transforms. “That’s what they said about my mom. And look what happened to her.” His voice breaks as he delivers the words.

Fuck. How could I have not seen this coming? How could I have not realized Shane would compare Selena’s postpartum depression to his mother’s depression? The illness that caused her to take her own life in an overdose of pills. Or the fact he is the one who found her and is forever scarred by the memory.

“Look at me, Shane.” I pause, waiting for him to lift his head and meet my eyes. The courageous man who walked in here is gone. The broken boy who lost his world when his mom died has replaced him. I scramble to fix it. Him. Use words that won’t do shit but will sound like it. “She will get better.” And I’m not sure if the strong resolve in my voice is to convince him or me. “I am going to have a doctor see her tomorrow. It might take some time, but we’ll get our Selena back, okay?”

He stares at me no doubt deciding if he believes me or not. He nods his head slowly as he begins to speak. “Selena is the only mom I have. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets better.”

I nod my head, the words he doesn’t say are reflected in his eyes: I can’t lose another person.

I understand that more than you know, kid.

“That makes two of us.”

“SELENA?”

Justin’s voice shocks me from the darkness of my mind into the blinding light of the patio.

Everything wars inside me: relief against spite, fear against hope, numbness against pain.

He stands in the doorway. Vitriol-laced accusations scream in my head but don’t form into words. Can’t. It’s too much effort.

“You left me.��� My voice sounds hollow, unaffected. Numb.

I missed you like a drowning person misses the air.

The baby monitor clicks as he sets it on the table. The cushion whooshes as he sits beside me. His eyes give an apology I don’t want to accept.

“I had to take care of some things, Selena.” He sounds tired. Rough. Something’s going on and yet I can’t find enough energy to care.

My body begins to hum. The ghost of the panic attack I had when I found out he had left comes back to haunt me. I wring my hands. Try to hold on to my control even though I can feel it slowly slipping away from me.

I can’t breathe.

“I went to see Eddie.”

Air feels like water, slowly filling my lungs with each inhale. Closing over my head and pulling me under.

“It was the first time he’d surfaced so I had to go.”

The deeper I fall the more my body begins to burn with heat from the inside out.

“He won’t be bugging us ever again.”

I fight back. Break the surface. My lungs heaving for the air his words bring me.

My eyes open wide and meet his, a moment of clarity amidst this haze.

“Thank you,” I say, voice hoarse as I try to elicit the emotion to match my words. But I can’t feel. When I don’t want to it’s all I can do, and when I do want to, I can’t.

I keep my eyes locked on his. Hope they’ll be the lifeline I need to keep me afloat, and sustain this feeling of normalcy for a little longer. The span of time seems to be less and less as the days go on.

Justin reaches out and runs the back of his hand down the side of my cheek. Tears well. I fight them back. I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come out.

I need help.

He moves to sit next to me, pulls me in close to him. I try to find comfort, try to use that hum of our bodies touching to tell me I’m still alive. And if I’m alive I can keep treading water until I can get to the edge.

I close my eyes. A tear slides over. A little piece of me leaving with it.

“Shane is really worried about you.”

I saw it in his eyes: the fear, the memories of his mom, the worry. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t reassure him. He saw right through it.

Guilt. The one constant I feel is back, swims in my head.

“Your mom. I’m not going to be able to keep her away much longer, Selena. She’s worried.” I am too. I can hear the unspoken words in his voice but don’t have the wherewithal to respond. “I’ve kept her happy with pictures and videos. Telling her you’re sleeping when she calls. She’s going to come up this weekend.”

“No!” It’s the only show of emotion I can give. The need to keep this under wraps from those who would be disappointed in my failure the most.

“I’m going to call Dr. Steele then.” His voice is soft but slams into my ears like the harshest of noises.

“No!” My voice cracks with panic—the word on repeat in my head—as I try to shove away from him. Struggle as he pulls me hard into him to stop my resistance against the idea.

I fight because I can handle this.

No, I can’t.

And because I’m scared. What if I can’t ever find my way back?

Yes, I can.

The darkness is so much more tempting than the fight. Less work. Less struggle. But Ace and Justin are worth fighting for. I’m so sick of the dark. So sick of its loneliness. I do the only thing I can: cling onto Justin, my light.

“I’m holding tight so you can let go, Selena,” he says into the crown of my head, the heat from his breath warming the cold lingering inside me. “Let go, baby. Deal with what you need to. And just know that Ace and I are here for you when you come back to us. Then we’ll get our little piece of peace.”

He still loves me.

He still wants us.

He’s fighting the fight for me.

Even when I can’t.

“HADDIE MUST HAVE CALLED IN the troops.”

My mother’s laugh is deep and rich through the phone. The concern is there though. I can hear her hiding it.

But it’s okay. I am too.

I glance to the extra bedroom where the door is shut and wonder what is taking them so long.

“You have no idea. She only means well.” Then silence. Fuck. Here we go. “You should have told us, Justin. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re here to help you.” I can hear the hurt in her voice, get that she thinks I didn’t trust her coming into our private life enough to tell her what was going on. And if my own mother feels this way, I’m going to have to steel myself for how Selena’s mom is going to handle this.

I clear my throat, unsure what to say. “It’s not like that, Mom. It’s complicated.” Tread lightly, Donavan. She’s not intruding; she just wants to be a mom.

Just like Selena does.

“I know it is.” Her voice is softer. Her hurt feelings back in check. Being a mom again—pushing away her hurt to help me deal with mine. “Has the doctor finished talking to her yet?”

I glance at the door again. “No.”

“I’m sure she’s just reassuring Selena. Sometimes when you hear things you don’t want to hear and they’re spoken by someone else, you actually listen to them.”

“I miss her, Mom.”

God, I sound like such a pussy. You can’t miss someone who is right in fucking front of you twenty-four/seven.

“Of course you do. You’ve all had a lot of changes over the past few months.”

“Changes?” I snort and then press a kiss to the top of Ace’s head. Use him to calm me. “I feel like we’ve had the shit beat out of us so much in the past month I’m surprised we’re not black and blue.” Sarcasm she doesn’t deserve is thick in my voice.

“You’re only alive if you bruise,” she says softly.

Then I must be thriving.

“Yeah.” I sigh. My eyes are back on the door but her comment sticks in my mind.

“You can’t do this all yourself, son. Let all of us help you. We’re setting up a schedule so we can come and—”

“I don’t know about that, Mom. I appreciate it, but Selena—”

“Sorry. This is what family does. We rally the troops and take care of our own,” she says, the no-nonsense tone in her voice taking me back twenty years to when I was a punk kid getting reprimanded. “You don’t have a choice. Selena’s mom, Quinlan, Haddie, and I will take shifts if need be. Anything it takes. And you’ll take the help and not argue. Understood?”

Yep. Right back there to being ten and getting caught trying to light firecrackers in the backyard.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you need the break too. You’ll burn yourself out. A proud man is a good man. But he can also be stupid one.”

I can’t help the laugh that falls from my mouth. My blunt mother telling me like it is. One of a very few women who can.

“Mom, I have to go,” I say as the door opens.

“Let me know what she says so I can let everyone know and—”

I hang up the phone. Cut her off. I need to know.

“Dr. Steele?”

“Walk me out, please?” she asks.

“Sure.” We head to the front door. This doesn’t sound good. My dread builds with each footstep. My heart is in my throat by the time we walk outside and shut the door behind us.

“He is an adorable little guy, isn’t he?” she says as she focuses on Ace when all I want her to do is tell me about Selena.

“Doc?” I finally ask, hoping she’ll have pity on me.

“You were right to call me, Justin.” The breath I’m holding burns in my lungs. “She’s definitely struggling with more than the typical baby blues.”

I feel a flicker of relief. I don’t know why. She hasn’t said she’s going to be okay, but at least I’ll know the beast we’re facing.

“Okay, so what do I need to do for her?” Something. Anything. I’m a guy. I need to fix things and this not being able to fix Selena is fucking me up.

She smiles softly at me. “To be honest, there’s no clear-cut answer here. I talked with Selena. Explained how she’s not alone. That a lot of women go through this and that getting help does not mean she’s failing as a mother.” She reaches out and plays with Ace’s hand as she continues. “Sometimes, postpartum depression is triggered by a sequence of events that seems out of the person’s control. Add in the rush of hormones. Then there’s the pressure of trying to get a newborn—who couldn’t care less about a schedule—to be on a schedule because every book you’ve read says that’s what you should be doing or you’re not doing it right. All of those combined are like the perfect storm of uncontrolled chaos. In Selena’s case, her mind has internalized it all and has fallen into a little downward dip of depression.”

I blow out a breath, hear her words and know it’s not my fault. But I’m a guy so I blame myself nonetheless. “Is she going to be okay?”

She nods. “I’ve written a prescription for some anti-depressants and—”

“Can she still nurse?” I ask, knowing that nursing is the only time she feels somewhat connected to Ace.

“Yes. There is much debate on this. In my opinion the trade-off is worth it: getting Selena on the road to recovery versus a trace of the drugs passed on through the milk.”

“Okay.”

“She’s a fighter, Justin. Get her out in the fresh air. A walk on the beach. A drive in the car. Anything you can think of doing to get her up and about without triggering her panic attacks.”

I chuckle. She does realize who we are, right? Did she forget there’s a reason she’s making a house call and we’re not going to her office?

“I know. It’s difficult in . . . your situation, but the more stimuli, the better.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly. “I appreciate you making the house call.”

“She’s going to be fine, Justin. She just needs a little time. It’s not going to happen overnight. The drugs take some time to take effect, so be patient like you’ve been so far, and soon enough you’ll have your wife back.”

The words cause my heart to pound. Fucking stupid since she’s been here all along. And yet my pulse is racing at the mere thought of getting my best friend back. Hearing her laughter. Watching her eyes light up with joy over staring at Ace. Listening to her sing off key to her beloved Matchbox Twenty. It’s the little things I miss. The day-to-day. The insignificant.

Desperate may not be something a man should wear but fuck if I’m not swathed in it wanting her to come back to me.

After the gates close behind Dr. Steele, I head inside, uncertain which Selena I’m going to find: The fighter I’ve grown to admire or the lost woman I can’t even recognize.

“Let’s go, little man. Let’s see if we can make your momma smile.”

FADING IN.

My moments with Ace, the ones I can feel, I try to hold tight to them. Try to use them to keep me afloat. Soak them in.

A text from Justin: Photograph by Ed Sheeran.

A rush of warmth. A flash of happy. The recollection of that night. Of sweetness. A picture frame waiting to be filled. Memories to make.

Panic I won’t be able to make it. A struggle to hold on to the good from the song, and not the bad. Please help me hold on to the good.

Falling out.

Thoughts come. Thoughts go.

The house a constant revolving door: my mom, Haddie, Dorothea, Quinlan. Frustrating me. Reviving me. Holding me up so I can fall, but not be alone when I do.

My mom. Opening blinds. Zipping through the house like Mary Poppins infusing her cheer to try and make me smile. Except I can’t smile. I can’t feel anything. Watching her hold Ace, coo over him, connecting with him should make me happy, jealous—anything—and yet I feel absolutely nothing.

The clock ticks. Time in Ace’s life I can’t get back.

My Justin. I watch him with Ace. Day after day. Night after night. Moments I capture, file away, and pray can keep. Justin asleep with Ace on his chest, tiny fingers curled against his muscles. Made-up lullabies that dig into the fog and make me feel something . . . lighter. A flicker of warmth. A strand of hope. A moment I can embrace.

Before the lead curtain falls again.

Seconds spent.

A tug of war of inner wills.

Hours gone.

And every night, Justin pulls me against him as we lie in bed and murmurs in my ear the wonderful memories we still have to make to put in our picture frame. The warmth of his body against mine is his subtle reminder to his wife, who is still lost in her own mind, that she’s not alone.

Days lost.

“Teddy called today,” Justin says. The ocean breeze is cool. The soothing surge from Ace nursing a little stronger today. The fog a little lighter.

“Hmm?” Afraid to hope. Wanting to know but fearing the worst.

“The board voted to keep him on as director.” An unexpected flutter. A tinge of excitement. “You’ll be reinstated if you choose to go back to work after your maternity leave.”

A deep breath in. Exhale out.

“Mm-hmm.” A bit of inflection.

Justin’s smile at my response. I love his smile. The feel of Ace’s hand kneading my breast. I love his little hands. A glimpse of hope.

A pile of jumbled jigsaw pieces. Two finally fitting together.

A text from Justin: I’ll Follow You by Jon McLaughlin

He tries so hard to keep me above the fray. To do anything to help me hold on a little longer than last time. A message to tell me I’m not alone. That it’s okay.

A pinprick of light at the end of the tunnel.

You can do this.

Change is never easy.

Fight to hold on.

Fight to let go.

Fight because they’re your whole world.

“I STILL CAN’T GET OVER it.”

“Get over what?” I ask as I look from where Ace is passed out on my chest—mouth open, hands up, legs apart. Content as fuck. And thankfully asleep since he’s been running me ragged.

“You. A dad.” Becks chuckles with a shake of his head.

“Yeah well, he looks sweet right now . . . but don’t let him fool you. He’s a stubborn little cuss. He had me up to my elbows in shit earlier. Not a pretty sight.” Fucking disgusting. But shit, I’d do it a hundred more times if I could be rewarded by the soft smile on Selena’s face when I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway watching us.

Becks throws his head back and laughs. “Fuck. I would have paid to see that.”

“No. You wouldn’t,” I deadpan, “but you do what you have to do.”

Becks nods his head and lifts his chin toward the pool deck where Selena is reading. Baby steps. Tiny bits of her returning to me. “Haddie says she’s doing better?”

“One step forward. Three back.” I shrug. “But at least we’re moving, right? Just trying to figure out our new kind of normal or some shit like that.”

“And you’re hanging in there?”

“Most days,” I say with a laugh. “But God I’d kill to get on the track. I need some speed to clear my head and give me a chance to not think for a bit.”

“Not thinking is what you do best. You don’t need to hit the track for that.”

“Fuck off,” I say with a laugh. And regardless of my response, I welcome the dig. Need a bit of our typical banter to get a little part of my normal.

“Dude, you better watch your mouth or else Ace’s first word is going to be fuck. And while it would be funny as fuck,” he says, raising his eyebrows at the intended pun, “I think that might earn you a spot in the doghouse.”

“True . . . but fuck—”

“There you go again.” He laughs, causing me to just shake my head and sigh.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“Most good things in life are,” he says with a lift of his eyebrows. And I stare at him for a beat, hearing what he’s saying. That shit’s tough right now but it’s all worth it.

Damn straight it is.

“Like I said, just say when and I’ll get the track time reserved for you,” he says as he stands. His unspoken, I’ve got your back, comes through loud and clear.

“Thanks . . . for everything.”

“No problem, brother. That’s what I’m here for.”

They’re gone.

I’m thankful the vultures have packed up shop and gotten the hell out of Dodge, but I still can’t believe it’s true. I check the live feed on my phone from the security camera mounted on the front gate one more time. The street’s still free and clear of paparazzi scum who had been camping out there for what felt like for-fucking-ever.

Thank God they listened for once. Chased the story I hand-fed them about Eddie. Uncovered truths behind his actions: his desperate and fucked-up act to exact revenge on my wife because he was found guilty. Paparazzi’s apologies mean shit to me. They’re just covering their asses from getting sued for slander. Besides, I know it won’t stop them from doing the same thing with their next story, their next lead, their next chance to fuck up someone else’s life.

Of course, I’m not blind to the fact they’re all playing nice in the hopes of getting first crack at pictures of Ace if we ever decide to go that route and sell the rights. So I’ll take their printed retractions. Use their hope to clear our street and rid our lives of their constant presence. But more than anything I’ll hold tight to the fact that their apologies have helped restore Selena’s reputation.

Too bad she’s so lost in her depression she doesn’t know it.

Because while their apologies may have restored calm outside the gates, they’ve done nothing to quiet the storm still brewing inside them.

From my chair on the patio, I set my cell down and watch the set of waves roll in, immediately itching to grab my board and get lost in the ocean. My mind wanders. Thoughts run. Will Ace want me to teach him to surf some day? Will he be interested in racing?

Or will I just be the authority he resists until he gets old enough to understand the why behind my rules? Like father, like son.

The baby monitor crackles on the table beside me. I give him a sec, wait to see if he’s awake, but nothing. I lean back in my chair and get lost in thoughts about the next race. My everyday world that feels so fucking far away from the one I’m currently living in.

“Shh. Shh.” Selena’s voice comes through the monitor and startles me. My heart races. My eyes burn with emotion I don’t want to feel but can’t stop as I bring it to my ear to hear more.

Silence. Nothing else. Should I go upstairs or stay here and see what happens? If I’m there, does it add more pressure on her as she takes a step forward when so many we’ve taken have been backward?

And then those dark thoughts in the back of my mind take hold. The ones I haven’t wanted to acknowledge but linger nonetheless. The ones that make the evening news headlines about what mothers with postpartum depression have done to their children.

I’m up and on my feet in a second. A war of emotions battle over what to think and what to do. I stand in the hallway, frozen in indecision with what feels like the weight of the world on my shoulders.

Hope surges through me. I hate it and love it at the same time.

I choose to love it. Need to.

C’mon, Selena. Give me something to tell me I’m right.

“My sweet boy. You hungry?” I exhale the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, pissed at myself for doubting her but knowing I have every right to.

Joy, relief, fear, concern, caution. Too many fucking feelings hit me at once. The biggest of all of them is relief that I can see the light at the end of this long-ass tunnel. Our life has been put on hold for what feels like forever, and it’s time to get it back.

She’s not better yet. We still have a long way to go. Hell yes, this moment is a baby step, but fuck if I won’t take it because we weren’t even crawling a few days ago. This step may be on wobbly legs, but it’s a step all the same.

When I enter the bedroom, Selena is lying on the middle of the bed, and Ace is nursing beside her. It’s the first time I haven’t had to bring him to her. The thought sinks in and takes hold as I watch the two of them together. A visual sucker punch of love.

Leave her be, Justin.

Good in theory, but not in my reality. I don’t know why I resist the pull when I know in the end it’s futile. It always is when it comes to Selena.

I cross the room, pull my shirt over my head, and slide into bed behind her without saying a word. Careful of disturbing Ace, I put arm around her hip, and line our bodies up. And just breathe her in.

God, I’ve missed her.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear him wake up. I didn’t mean for you to have to get him.” I give her the lip service, soft words that won’t upset her, when I’m not sorry at all.

Silence greets me. I hold back the sigh I want to breathe out. Push down the disappointment she’s lost again. Accept that the power of her own mind is ten times more powerful than any love I can give her. Fight the fear I won’t be able to pull her back again.

So I begin the routine. My nightly process. My way of telling her I’m not giving up on her. I tell her about a memory I can’t wait to make with her.

“I thought of another one today. Memory two hundred thirteen that I can’t wait to put in our picture frame. We should rent a private island. Or a secluded beach somewhere. Sand, sun, and our family left all alone to do as we please. Silly, right?” My own voice rings in my ears but her body relaxes against mine and I know she’s listening. “It’s not though. Because the island rules are that you’re required to wear very skimpy bikinis. Or go topless. Topless is preferable. And yes, to make it fair, I’d have to wear that loincloth thingy so we have clothing equality on the island. Oh shit,” I murmur as I press a kiss into the back of her hair. “I’m still getting used to this baby thing. I forgot topless doesn’t bode well with a kid. So I guess topless would only be allowed when Ace is napping. I’m sure we could find a few ways to occupy our time during those hours anyway.”