#mobile home park management

[lawofficeofryansshipp]

Understanding Florida Statute 723.002: A Guide for Mobile Home Park Owners

Understanding Florida Statute 723.002 As a Florida mobile home park owner or property manager of a mobile home park, you’re likely familiar with the complexities of managing tenancies. One of the most important laws you need to understand is Florida Statute 723.002, which governs the application of Chapter 723, Florida’s law on Mobile Home Lot Tenancies. This statute outlines when Chapter 723…

[tacticalhimbo]

HURRICANE HELENE RELIEF

Since I'm incredibly anxious and very much annoyed, I'm compiling this post as a sort of master list of relief organizations and individual fundraisers for those in the path of Hurricane Helene.

Many of the links I post on this won't be individuals, but I encourage those within the path to add their links to this post in reblogs! Likewise, if you have any organizations / volunteer / grassroots efforts y'all would like to share, please do so!

LAST EDITED: 9/29/2024 - MAKE SURE TO CHECK REBLOGS FOR UPDATES!

My list is particularly focused on widely accessible resources, as well as Florida specific resources since... I'm from Florida.

(INTER)NATIONAL ORGANIZATIONS

American Red Cross - The American Red Cross is on the ground helping people as Hurricane Helene approaches land as a very dangerous storm. Helene may produce winds over 150 mph, a massive 20-foot-high storm surge and as much as a foot of rain. Prolonged power outages and tornadoes may occur. The effects will be felt hundreds of miles inland including in Georgia and the Carolinas.

FEMA Disaster Assistance Improvement Program - The Disaster Assistance Improvement Program’s (DAIP) mission is to provide disaster survivors with information, support, services, and a means to access and apply for disaster assistance through joint data-sharing efforts between federal, tribal, state, local, and private sector partners.

Roll Mobility - An application that equips wheelchair users with reliable information about the accessibility of restaurants, public spaces, businesses, trails, and parking areas. Good information to have on hand, especially for those evacuating from their home areas.

Warmline Directory - Providing extensive yet accessible resources that empower individuals to find the mental health and wellness resources they need through a directory containing accurate and in-depth information. For those unfamiliar: Unlike a crisis line, a warm line operator is unlikely to call the police or have someone locked up if they talk about suicidal or self-harming thoughts or behaviors. A good resource for individuals in mental distress due to natural disaster circumstances.

Food Not Bombs - Recovers food that would have been discarded and share it as a way of protesting war and poverty. They also reduce food waste and meet the direct need of communities by collecting discarded food, preparing vegan meals that they share with the hungry while providing literature about the need to change our society. Food Not Bombs also provides food to protesters and striking workers and organizes food relief after natural and political crisis.

Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies - The Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies (The Partnership) is the only U.S. disability-led, 501(c)(3) organization that prioritizes equity, access, disability rights, disability justice, and full inclusion of people with disabilities, older adults, and people with access and functional needs before, during and after disasters and emergencies.

FLORIDA

Volunteer Florida Disaster Fund - The Florida Disaster Fund is the State of Florida’s official private fund established to assist Florida’s communities as they respond to and recover during times of emergency or disaster. In partnership with the public sector, private sector and other non-governmental organizations, the Florida Disaster Fund supports response and recovery activities.

State and Local Level Referrals - When a disaster occurs, local governments often work together with community leaders and organizations to provide on-the-ground emergency management. Curated by FEMA. (Has 52 Organizations Listed)

GEORGIA

State and Local Level Referrals - When a disaster occurs, local governments often work together with community leaders and organizations to provide on-the-ground emergency management. Curated by FEMA. (Has 60 Organizations Listed)

TENNESSEE

State and Local Level Referrals - When a disaster occurs, local governments often work together with community leaders and organizations to provide on-the-ground emergency management. Curated by FEMA. (Has 49 Organizations Listed)

NORTH CAROLINA

State and Local Level Referrals - When a disaster occurs, local governments often work together with community leaders and organizations to provide on-the-ground emergency management. Curated by FEMA. (Has 45 Organizations Listed)

Beloved Asheville - A community-led coalition dedicated to providing home, healthy, equity, and opportunity for all.

Triangle NC - This links to another post I've made, but Triangle Mutual Aid is organizing supply drop offs as well as financial support.

SOUTH CAROLINA

State and Local Level Referrals - When a disaster occurs, local governments often work together with community leaders and organizations to provide on-the-ground emergency management. Curated by FEMA. (Has 44 Organizations Listed)

INDIVIDUAL FUNDRAISERS

Support a Resilient Family Seeking a New Home - LINK ; Tumblr @junpei-iori-ace-defective (Close Friend of the Affected) | Fundraiser Text Below:

My name is Adam. I'm not the best at this; I never thought I'd have to do this, but my family and I lost our home on September 26th due to the hurricane Helene here in Florida. No one in our area thought it would get bad, but we didn't have any rain. All of a sudden, the water rose, and by midnight, our home was flooded with three feet of water. I had to carry our pets to the neighbors and my disabled wife through five feet of water. Then, my elderly disabled mother and grandmother through the water. We lost all of our clothes and many of our belongings, and our landlord will be having us move out. We have nowhere to go, so today I'm asking for help from the kindness of the world. Anything can help. If I can get enough to get us into a new home, it would be a blessing. Thank you all, and God bless.

Help Rebuild Lives After Devastating Flash Flood - LINK ; Tumblr @undeadnecromancer (Close Friend of the Affected) | Fundraiser Text Below:

On September 27, after being trapped in a flash flood for 5 hours, my father, Jeffrey Fuller, and sister, Kayla Fuller, left with their lives ❤️ but lost everything else. My father had set his life up to be simple and enjoyable. He didn't have a lot extra, but he had everything he needed, and now all of that is gone. Unfortunately, he did not have flood insurance, and the older you get, the harder it is to bounce back from something like this. For a man who has always shown up for everyone he loves, he needs us to show up now. Please help my father rebuild.

If you have seen the video circulating around from Jeffrey Fuller where it looks like a river is going through his house and he ends it with a “Love you all,” you have seen what has brought on this devastation.

Hurricane Helene Aftermath Help - LINK ; Tumblr @moonenjoyer (Affected Individual) | Fundraiser Text Below:

Man I hate to do this but I'm in Valdosta, one of the cities hit the worse by Hurricane Helene. It's BAD here. In particular, there's no estimate of when we'll get power back. Word on the street is it could be a week or longer.

I work from home and going without power that long, I won't be making any money. Meanwhile my groceries are all spoiled in a fridge with no power and my car is on E. All the gas stations are down atm and when they're back up I KNOW gas prices are going to be crazy high because of all of this. In fact, EVERYTHING is going to be more expensive for a while because of this.

If you have anything to spare to help me with gas and groceries and just surviving this, I'd really appreciate it. If not, a reblog/share would mean a lot. Thank you ❤️

Save Nate and Amanda's First Home - Urgent Hurricane Needs - LINK ; Tumblr @luckyfirerabbit (Affected Individual) | Fundraiser Text Below:

Hi. I'm Porter Henderson. This isn't about me, though. You’re going to see a lot of fundraisers with Hurricane Helene. This might be a little different.

You see, I’m writing this on behalf of my landlords and friends, Nate and Amanda. The home we share with an additional disabled man in Lithonia, Georgia had some repairs that they couldn't afford, made much worse by the hurricane. They'd been limping along like everyone dealing with inflation and underemployment, but the situation has become urgent, and they need and deserve help.

Nate and Amanda have been my friends for over a decade, and when they heard I was no longer able to work and in a bad situation, they offered me a place in their first home. I told them I wasn’t sure what or when I would be able to pay. They told me that if I ever won my disability case I could start paying rent then.

You see, I'm trying so hard to save this home because they’ve tried so hard to save me.

I was so grateful to move in, and they treated me like family. When I lost the ability to drive, they made sure I got to my doctor’s appointments, and still do. When I can’t afford food, they take me to food banks, and what I can’t find there they’ll help me get at the store. They meet all the needs they could reasonably meet, and then a couple more.

I’ve lived here for three years now, and they’ve never stopped assuring me that I am wanted, even if I can’t contribute to the household on a daily basis. They have never let me go without if there was any other way. They have helped friends and strangers every time they have seen a need. They are unfailingly honest, incredibly trustworthy, and extremely hardworking people.

They've never had much, but they've shared everything they have.

Now, though, the hurricane turned a seem in our roof into a gushing waterfall, and finally into a large hole in Nate and Amanda's bedroom ceiling.

We tarped the leaking roof from the inside to channel out as much water as we could, but with a literal hurricane outside, there’s only so much that you can do.

The three of us who couldn’t get into the attic pushed our chronically ill bodies past their limits, dragging furniture away from walls, hauling totes as fast as we could with our canes, shoving empty containers into the corner as we kicked the debris out, and researching strategies for how to deal with the nightmare. Later we would wade through flooding water to dump out rain and tie down loose trash cans, shine lights and relay directions from the attic to outside, as we all attempted to get the water venting outside the house.

To make matters worse, the HVAC needs to be replaced. It’s a seventeen year old system, with a huge crack in the (inaccessible) drain pan and a bad motherboard. Some friends pooled money with Nate and Amanda to get a couple of window air conditioners for the summer. With medications that make three of us sensitive to heat, it’s been a rough summer, but we got through.

Unfortunately, winter is a few weeks away, and it’s going to be a little less than seventeen thousand for a new system to be installed.

What makes it an emergency however, is that without the drying and air movement of the AC, trying to dehumidify everything is going to be even harder, giving us a greater chance of mold. If mold takes hold, I'm not sure if we can save the house.

This fundraiser is for the $2,500 hurricane deductible that we're almost certainly going to be charged by the homeowner's policy and the $17,000 for the HVAC, plus estimated fees for the platform.

Not included in the total are any cleaning supplies, or a tiny storage unit and rental truck if we need one to store all of their bedroom furniture while the roof is redone. (We won't know about any of that until we get the estimate from insurance/roofing.) The claim has already been filed.

The air conditioning is a pre-existing problem, and I've found no way for it to be covered by any charity, government program, or private programs in the state. The ones that my social worker knew about didn't apply (I applied anyway) and I let her know about two more that I found. The religious groups I've reached out to in my area don't work in anything but clothing, children's furniture, and durable medical goods.

If additional costs emerge, or anything ends up being less expensive, I will update and adjust the goal accordingly as soon as I find out.

Please help these genuinely good people. The smallest donation helps. So does sharing.

Thank you in advance.

[boypied]

pairings: steve rodgers x male reader

request: Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, was found by the male reader and not a shield. Male readers help Steve come to terms with the past and get him situated to the present. Throughout the process, Steve grows to have feelings for male reader, which leads to their first date and a night of fun. Where they both lose their virginity.

warnings: SMUT ! , swearing, anal sex.

MDNI + FDNI !

You aren't sure how you ended up in this situation, but you had a famous war superhero from the 1940s in your backseat. You didn't want to take him to the hospital, in case they took him to a lab and began to test on him and you didnt want someone like Nick Fury to get ahold of him, because you knew he would exploit him and force him to go onto missions and risk his life, so I guess that's how you ended up in this situation.

His body just laid across your back seat, and your eyes gaze off the road and towards the man in the back. You admired his bulging biceps as they were almost tearing out of his shirt, his wet shirt to be exact! it clings to his abs. You dart your eyes back to the road to make sure you don't crash and die. Once you reach home, you manage to get Steve's body inside after a LOT of trial and error.

You gently lay his body down against your guest room bed. You slowly peel his soaked top off his body to reveal his rippling six-pack and his soft pink nipples, "Wow, this guy must have been sculpted by gods" You blush slightly before leaving the room, closing the door quietly.

THE NEXT MORNING

You lay down in your bed staring up at the wall, thinking about how there is a soilder from the '40s in your guest bedroom. Where do you even go from here? There isn't a manual book that teaches you how to help someone who hasn't aged since 1945. If he ends up staying with you long-term, you're going to have to start teaching him the modern language, how to use modern appliances, all of this stuff.

You head out of your bedroom and walk into your living room, where you find a confused and naked Steve Rodgers. "Steve?..." You mumble quietly, worried to set him off. He turns around and reveals the full package to you. "Where am I? and who are you?" Steve asked curiously and with slight concern in his voice. Your eyes trail from his perfect pecs down to his rippling abs to his 9 inched, veiny, meaty cock.

His eyes dart down and his hands immediately cover his cock and he blushes "heh, sorry about that." He laughs slightly before being quiet. "I found you while I went out exploring, and I was worried if I took you to a hospital, they would start running tests on you like you weren't a person" you say while making eye contact with him, he feels a warmth in his heart that you just filled. "Thank you for saving me." A smile creeps up onto Steve's face, which causes you to blush.

You start to show Steve around your house and telling him what everything is or at least the more modern things. You had to teach his how to use a mobile phone, where you showed him all of the different apps. He really felt connected to angry birds.

THE DATE

This whole date situation just kind of fell into your lap, Steve wanted to find a way to thank you after you taught him how to adapt to the modern world over the course of a couple months, so he came up with the idea of taking you out for dinner. Except you had to plan it all for him since he still didn't fully wrap his head around how to use a computer.

Since Steve hasn't quite worked out how to drive stick, you decided it would be for the better if you drove. The whole time while you were driving, Steve had his large hand placed on your thigh, moving it back and forth gently. Your heartbeat picked up the pace.

You parked the car outside the restaurant and turned to face Steve. You both have a warm smile from ear to ear on your face. "Let's head inside, then Cutie," Steve says, which causes the blush on your skin to intensify.

Once you are both finally seated, at a candle sit dinner, you can't take your eyes off each other. You stare at his chiselled jawline. You admire the way he spoke and the way he contorted his mouth. Each movement of his caused you to fall harder for him. He could ask you to do anything, and you would do it. "I am really thankful that you saved me." He says while staring at you lovingly, "I am really thankful you came into my life" you stretch your hand to hold his.

You both ate your food, paid, and went back to the car to drive, once you got home... that's when the fun truly began.

VIRGINITY LOSSED

You unlocked the door, and you both stumbled inside, not taking your lips off each other. "I am going to show you how much I am thankful for you." Steve says while lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, laying you down against the couch. He tears your shirt off to reveal your body, and he begins to devour your body, running his tongue along your body as he begins to suck on your nipples.

You begin to breathe heavily and mumble some moans "wait wait! slow down." You say as Steve pulls away from you." Am I doing something wrong?" His face contorts while looking down at you. "I'm.... I'm a virgin." You say while looking up at him, Steve laughs slightly before smirking. "So am I"

Steve continues to kiss up your body. Before pulling away to unbuckle his belt, to get out his semi-hard shaft. You stare at it, and your hole pulsates.

"Fuck" you gasped out as your mouth hangs open, Steve smirks as he enjoys how flustered you've become. "Do you want to... um... suck it?" Steve asks nervously. He sits down, and you go onto your knees between his legs. "I'll be honoured to, Steve."

You wrap your hand around the base of his thick shaft. You give it a few jerks before leaning down to swirl your tongue around his tip, slurping up all of his delicious pre-cum. He grabs your head, pushing you down to the base. "Awh! Fuck" he moans out, soaking in all of the pleasure. Your eyes water and your jaw aches, but you will stop at nothing to give him the best pleasure ever. You feel his cock twitch in your throat to indicate that he is close, so you pull away with a pop.

"Wait, no! Don't stop!" Steve pleads and begs with you while you strip off in front of him. You climb on top, straddling him. You place you hand on his cock lining it up with your hole. He nods at you to show he's ready, so you begin to slide down onto his shaft. "AH!" You begin to whimper at the slight pain but Steve begins to kiss your neck to help ease it.

Once he is finally balls deep inside you, you both pause for a moment. He lets you get used to his large size, rest your head on his shoulder while he gently thrusts into your tight hole. He begins to breathe heavily. "fuckk." he lays his head back while he grips your ass thrusting gently into you.

"...faster." You moan while kissing his neck, "Okay baby, I'll speed up." Steve begins to speed up his thrusting, his balls slapping against you. Steve pulls you into a kiss while his hand travels down to jerk you off. His hand goes back and forth, his thumb rubbing your tip. You moan into the kiss while his tongue dominates your mouth, "mhm" you moan.

His thrusts continue to hit your sweet spot, his tip constantly rubbing against it, causing you to unleash sultry moans. "AH! S-Steve, I'm close. " You moan out as Steve continues to jerk you off harder while thrusting into you.

You shoot your load onto Steve's abs, He pulls you into a kiss while he paints your walls, coating them in his cum. You both moan into the kiss as you ride out your high.

THE AFTER CARE

You both clean each other up while laying next to each other, embracing eachothers warmth. "I'm so happy I met you, Steve." you say while running your hands through his hair. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me!" Steve mumbles while blushing.

You both lay there for the rest of the night, cuddling and embracing each other.

Steve whispers into your ear, "Will you be my boyfriend?" He asks. You wraps your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. "Of course I will!" You blush and pull him tightly towards your body.

[elbiotipo]

Ocassionally you see articles that are like "scientists are trying to hide how bad things are" and I'm the opposite of that. I've done my work on ecological restoration (actually grabbed a shovel and planted trees) and I'm amazed at how fast nature can restore itself. Ecologists used to think restoring tropical rainforests, to give an example of a complex ecosystem, would take centuries to go back if it was even possible -this is why you see all the dystopian fiction of rainforests going extinct- when in fact, it has been proven that without human pressure, ecological succession takes place and rainforests grow back nearly to its original physionomy in a few years, even if diversity does take a time to bounce back. Reintroducing animals might sound harder and it is, but we must remember that animals have faster cycles than humans. Just letting breeding pairs in protected areas is often enough for populations to grow back, as in the reintroduction of jaguars to Iberá in Corrientes Argentina, and many other cases. What is even more interesting and encouraging is how cheap, both in the monetary and the general effort sense, these works are. If a bunch of underpaid biologists, rural people and park rangers can do it, imagine if they had the full support and backing from states and international institutions.

We are at a stage where, besides climate change, we are facing tremendous biodiversity loss and this mostly comes to our methods of land use and food production. But these can be changed. We must assume the fact that nature is not a pristine untouched thing, but humans, in every continent they have lived in, have long managed its resources. The Amazon Rainforest is full of useful plants that hint at silviculture which is still done by its native peoples, the deserts and tundra that seem uninhabited have been home to pastoral and hunter-gatherer peoples. Humans have shaped all habitats on Earth, even the most 'untouched' ones. Just as they have managed their environments and natural resources, other civilizations have managed or mismanaged them. Now that industrial civilization has spread across the globe, we need to find a way to balance our need for food and other products with the need to preserve and take care of Earth. This can be done, we can ensure both a good quality of life and a protected biosphere. We can stop the dichotomy of humans separate from nature, assume our historical role as managers and stewards of natural resources, and do it with our modern understanding of ecology and science.

This does mean that it will take a lot of popular mobilization and change to uproot current interests and create states that uphold these principles. But I'm a marxist. I don't 'believe' in class struggle, I think it's a fact based on observations about society, and I also think that this current form of capitalism will eventually be replaced by socialism, and I believe the future socialist societies will not do the same mistakes as the past. We not only can create new societies that can take care of nature and the general welfare of people, but I also think that as history proceeds, it will be inevitable.

[scoobydoodean]

SAM So, same pattern, same victim pool – just like when we were kids. AMY No, I – it's not what – look, I'm not – I've had the same job for the last six years. I – I have a house, two cats, a mortgage. I have a normal life.

Instead of saying out the gate that she hasn't fed on humans for years and years and that she had no choice in this specific instance, Amy's very first point of protest is "I have a mortgage".

That is insane to me. But also so delicious in terms of the social class dynamics that tend to play into Sam's storylines.

While Amy's son is certainly the catalyst and her mother's M.O. helps define the victim pool, I can't help but feel the specific choice to define her "goodness" via upward mobility first and foremost suggests Amy believes that being middle class justifies her taking the lives of addicts who hang out in parks at night. They're beneath her on the class ladder. They don't have homes (like she once didn't—like Sam once didn't) but now she's "better". She's "managing".

[nebuladreamerrr]

“Where is mom?”| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary:  After a day filled with the profound exertion of bringing your second child into the world, a moment of tender anticipation arrives: it's time for your eldest to meet her new sibling.

Warnings: English is not my first language

After enduring six grueling hours of labor, you finally welcomed little Jules into the world—a spitting image of his father. As the nurse reassured you of his perfect health after all the tests performed to check both his heart and hearing, your thoughts drifted to your daughter, Manon, and how she might be feeling on this momentous day.

"Are you okay, my love?" Kylian's concerned voice interrupted your reverie as he made skin-to-skin contact on the couch in the room with Jules.

"Do you think Manon is okay?" you whispered, trying not to disturb the baby sleeping in your husband's arms.

"Honey, everything will be fine. You know she's with my mother, and if she was sick or something had happened, she would have contacted us," Kylian reassured, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Yes, Kylian, but she's not used to changes, and today has been anything but routine. Could you text your mother and ask her to come today instead of waiting until tomorrow to meet the baby? And to bring Manon with her, please," you pleaded, concern evident in your tone.

"Of course, my love. But try to relax and rest. I'm sure she's fine and just eager to cuddle us," Kylian said, gently laying Jules in his cot before enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

Your concern for Manon might have seemed excessive to some, but your motherly instinct told you otherwise. You knew your daughter well, and despite the joyous occasion, something deep down told you she wasn't having a good day. It had been a challenging few months for your family, especially for her. Manon was accustomed to being the center of attention, the youngest grandchild and only daughter of doting parents. Kylian, in particular, showered her with affection, earning her the title of "daddy's girl." Even on days when he had to travel for matches, he made sure she knew she was always his little girl. They had a ritual: before each pre-match training, he recorded himself telling her a story, allowing you to play it for her at bedtime. Often, she fell asleep hugging the mobile phone that displayed her father's face.

When you found out you were pregnant again, you couldn't help but worry about Manon's reaction. However, she surprised you by being thrilled at the news. Her excitement grew when she found out she was going to have a baby brother, and her joy was more than evident at the baby shower, where she participated enthusiastically as the one who popped the balloon revealing the gender of her baby brother.

But not everything had been smooth sailing in the past few months. Manon quickly grasped the concept of becoming a big sister. You couldn't blame her; you knew you and Kylian had indulged her, but how could you resist? So it wasn't surprising when she cried inconsolably as Kylian explained that she would have to stop sleeping in your double bed because the baby would need a lot of nighttime care. If she slept with you, she wouldn't get much rest.

Similarly, there was something you hadn't told Kylian in any depth because what little he knew had broken his heart, and had ended with him clinging to you as you both wept inconsolably, apologizing to her for having to leave home. But your little girl wasn't coping well with having to leave France next year, and you couldn't blame her. She had only just started kindergarten this year and had managed to make many friends at her little school. In addition, this year she had managed to start going to a ballet academy where she felt like a real princess in every class. You completely understood her frustration and understood how everything she knew would quickly cease to exist. There would be no more afternoons in the park, no more afternoons playing with Navas' children, and even your little girl would have to get used to another teacher and other doctors. But you knew that this was the best thing for Kylian and that he deserved to fulfill his dream. So you tried to convince your little girl, assuring her that she could still talk to her friends on your mobile, and you would keep in touch with their mothers so that, as soon as you returned to France for a holiday, your little girl could see her friends.

So when Fayza got that call, she couldn't have been happier. It was customary for her granddaughter to stay at Fayza’s home, but it had been exhausting trying to distract her when her little mind was elsewhere. Fayza had done her best to make the day entertaining, but it had started on a rough note. When your water broke at five in the morning, Kylian took you to the hospital, and they had to make a quick stop at Fayza's house to drop off your daughter. Fayza had prayed that her granddaughter would fall asleep quickly, as she had on many previous occasions, but it wasn't meant to be. Manon stayed awake all day, and by seven in the morning, Fayza had given up trying to coax her to sleep.

She had tried to make the day better by preparing her granddaughter's favorite breakfast, little Mickey Mouse waffles, accompanied by a good session of her favorite cartoons, but the plan failed when she barely took a bite. No matter what Fayza tried to cheer her up, the day wasn't working: not playing princesses, not a Disney movie marathon, not an afternoon with her uncle Ethan, who decided not to go out with his friends to try to improve his niece's mood. But when the clock struck five in the afternoon, the little girl couldn't take it any longer and cried inconsolably missing her mother.

Your daughter was very attached to her father, mostly because he was the father figure she saw the least of in her day-to-day life. As long as Manon felt you were close, everything was under control, but that day you were far away from her. Ethan quickly tried to calm her crying by singing her a little song while holding her in his arms and moving around the house. That calmed her for a moment, but both Ethan and Fayza knew that if the little girl did not see her mother that day, none of the household would be able to sleep that night.

Fayza tried to encourage Kylian about her little girl's state of mind by commenting that if they needed quiet and rest, it might not be advisable to take her to the hospital. However, Kylian played it down, thinking that her mother was simply worrying too much.

With a smile, Fayza turned to Manon and said, "Honey, put your coat on, we're going to see Mommy.”

Your little girl quickly buttoned up her coat and rushed out to the car. During the car ride, Fayza tried to explain to Manon that the hospital room would contain not only her parents, but also her little brother, but she barely paid attention when she sensed that they had arrived at the hospital. Strategically, Fayza quickly sent Ethan to buy a bouquet for you, knowing that when she unbuckled her granddaughter's car seat, she would jump out regardless of whether she was carrying a gift for her mother or not.

So when they asked where the room you were in was, Manon bolted for the lift and led the group as she walked down the corridors of the hospital looking at the different room numbers until she saw it: "Room 350".

She quickly opened the door and, catching a glimpse of your figure, couldn't help but burst into tears as she threw herself onto your hospital gurney, waiting for you to take her in your arms.

"My baby girl," you said as you looked worriedly at your daughter's reaction. You knew that her behavior had nothing to do with how she had been treated at her grandmother's house, where you knew she had been treated like a princess. But even though your maternal instinct had sensed it, you didn't know it was that bad.

Manon's constant crying caused little Jules to burst into tears as she woke him up from his warm sleep, which made your daughter cry even harder.

"Kylian, I think I'm going to go outside with Manon to soothe her. You can stay here while you introduce Jules to your parents," you said, making an effort to get up.

"Honey, you've just given birth. It's not advisable to stand for too long," said Kylian as he stopped you from getting up.

"Well, you're going to explain to me how we reassure our daughter because logically she needs a moment alone," you replied sharply. You hated talking to Kylian like that, but you felt that no one understood how much pain your princess was going through. You knew that with a few sweet lullabies, you could calm Jules down, but your daughter wouldn't be soothed so quickly.

With a short sigh, Kylian exclaimed, "I'm going in the next room with Jules and my family while you try to calm her down, okay? But don't make any sudden moves, please, I beg you. I'll be right back, sweetheart," he said, placing a small kiss on your daughter's head.

When the room fell silent, you couldn't help but ask your daughter why she felt that way and what was going on in her little head. Although many might think it was jealousy, it was quite the opposite. The little girl could not understand that you would not abandon her. So many things were changing in her daily life that she could only expect more changes. When she noticed the absence of both of you, she was frightened. She was used to Kylian's absence, but you had never been gone so long. Even when you were sick, she would lie on your breast while you watched a princess movie and wait for you to recover enough until you had the energy to play again.

After a long time of cuddling and stroking her hair, your little girl managed to calm down, but she stirred restlessly in your arms when she noticed someone opening the door to the room. However, she calmed down again when she noticed it was her father.

"How is my little princess?" exclaimed Kylian before lifting her nimbly into his arms as he gave you a look that begged you to tell him what had happened.

As she gave your daughter little kisses and caresses, you told him what had happened. "She was afraid that we were gone and that we would disappear from her life.

After hearing that, your husband's heart couldn't break more. "My love, that will never happen. Dad and mom love you so much and we will always be by your side. We could never abandon you," he said as he left delicate kisses on her little head.

"You promise?" your daughter asked with teary eyes. 

"Of course, sweetheart," he replied. 

After an hour of cuddling and enjoying a few moments with your firstborn, you decided it was time for her to meet her baby brother.

"Manon, would you like to meet Jules?" you asked cautiously.

Surprisingly, her reaction was a huge smile as she nodded her head repeatedly. Quickly, Kylian allowed his family back into the room as they relinquished Jules so that Manon could hold him in her arms with the help of her parents.

[augustjustice]

Chemistry, History, and Shared Trauma

AO3 Link

The day Eddie’s released from the hospital, he’s packed up into Steve’s BMW and driven straight to the Harrington mansion.

The government agents are still in the process of doing the whole song-and-dance routine required to clear Eddie’s name, so laying low is ideal. There hasn’t been time to relocate Wayne to a new trailer–something Owen promises is happening, though Eddie will believe it when he sees it–and a hotel room isn’t really a great place to recover, especially considering the state Eddie finds himself in. 

When the question of where exactly he was going to go had come up, Steve had volunteered all too quickly.

“You can stay with me,” he had said, easy as pie, like it was nothing. “My parents aren’t home, and, besides…it’s not like anybody’s going to be looking for you there.”

Though Eddie had tried to protest, quick to say that he didn’t want to put Steve out, his jock savior wouldn’t hear a word of it.

So, the next day, Steve had shown up to the hospital early, signed all the appropriate paperwork, and then wheeled Eddie out into the parking lot whistling some upbeat, poppy tune Eddie didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of recognizing–but still found oddly endearing, in spite of himself. 

And that had been that, Steve hauling Eddie’s cane out for him under one arm and his bag of meds in the other once they pull up in front of the Harringtons’ house, ready to put Eddie up in the guest room next to his like he’d belonged there all along.

Eddie’s mobility is still pretty limited–hence the cane and the wheelchair now sitting in the Harrington’s den–but that doesn’t mean he isn’t bold (and stupid) enough to try to make his way up the stairs on his own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve scolds, catching Eddie around the waist as he wavers on his feet a little, clearly being careful of the open wounds on his stomach and torso. “Hold on, just…hold on, man.” 

“You got me, big boy?” Eddie teases.

The flirtatious call back is a diversion, an attempt to cover up the embarrassment of having to be this damn reliant on…well, literally everyone around him, but Steve in particular from here on out. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I got you,” Steve says, tone nothing less than perfectly sincere. 

Eddie deliberately ignores the way his stomach gives a little swoop in response. 

So he leans on Steve heavily as they make their way to the next story of the house, close enough to get a faint whiff of Steve’s cologne, a surprisingly sweet mix of amber, vanilla, and something a little fruity tickling his nose. Once they’re finally inside, though, Eddie does manage to hold himself upright long enough for a quick look around, taking in the digs he’s going to be sleeping in.

The room itself is almost sterile in its cleanliness–neat military precious corners on the bed, devoid of the usual clutter Eddie associates with home. The blue floral pattern that covers the walls is bizarrely identical to the fabric of the curtains, the repetition almost comical, when he thinks about the uniformity of all the houses that line the street. It’s the kind of detail that would be called too ‘on the nose,’ if written into a book. 

Eddie’s surprised to find a few exceptions to the cold tidiness, however, and even more surprised those exceptions come in the form of a stack of fantasy novels stashed inside the bedside table and a couple of action figures tossed in one corner.

Following his gaze, Steve turns from where he’s ‘tidying up’ what can only be an imaginary mess perceptible to the eyes of babysitting monster hunters and babysitting monster hunters alone, Eddie guesses. He gives Eddie a wry look. 

“Dustin stays over sometimes,” he explains, “the other rugrats, too, but it’s still mostly his stuff that winds up here. Leaves his shit all over the place.” 

There’s a fondness to Steve’s smile that undercuts the annoyance in his words. 

Eddie thinks back to the months and months Dustin spent talking Steve up to him. How even then it never really occurred to him just how close they might be. It’s strange to think, now, that though Eddie’s spent nearly a whole school year as DM for Steve’s nerdy band of babysitting charges, their paths had rarely ever crossed, beyond glimpses and a handful of long forgotten words exchanged, before that nightmare of a Spring Break. Almost like their lives have been running in some kind of strange parallel, fated to collide, without either of them even noticing it.

Eddie’s not exactly sure how to phrase the feeling that comes over him at the thought, so instead he says, “I can’t believe we’re best friends with a fourteen year old, man.”

“God, tell me about it.” 

Eddie takes a few stumbling steps forward and sits down on the bed, honestly a bit proud of himself he manages it with as much grace as he does. As he settles in, he catches sight of a small stack of photos splayed out on the bedside, sitting atop what looks to be a photo album. 

Though it’s only a brief glimpse, the two visible pictures alone hint at the whole life story no doubt tucked away between glossy pages. 

Theres’s Dustin, several years younger than he is now, in a suit shooting the camera his gummy smile and with a hairdo that looks suspiciously like Steve’s own. And a polaroid shows Robin sprawled out on the counter at Scoops Ahoy, company policy be damned and a book in her hand, Steve’s head just in frame as she flips off the camera.  

While Steve fusses over him, fluffing his pillows and insisting he go get Eddie something to drink, Eddie can’t help but think he'd sorta like to hear it sometime–Steve Harrington’s life story. Be regaled with tales, from the photos and beyond, now that they’re here together, after the almost end of the world.

He hopes that, maybe, if he’s lucky, Steve will want to tell him some day. 

---

The bloodcurdling scream wakes Steve. 

He’s out of his room and down the hall in a flash, nail bat quickly snatched out of its hiding place underneath his bed with ease after years of practice. 

Even with his heart racing, he’s quiet when he opens the guest bedroom door, not wanting to scare Eddie or alert…anything else that might be lurking inside. 

“Eddie,” Steve calls out, whisper soft as he approaches the bed. When he repeats it, it’s a little harsher, more of a hiss, trying to get Eddie’s attention. “Eddie!” 

As he draws closer, Steve can see that Eddie is sweating, large droplets visible where they’ve beaded on his forehead, and he’s writhing hard enough in the sheets Steve’s worried he’s going to pop a stitch if he doesn’t stop him soon.

There’s really only one option ahead Steve sees for himself. 

So he gets a knee on the mattress and climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around Eddie to still him. Even as he does it, Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth, anxious Eddie might fight against the restriction and inadvertently make the situation worse. 

But then huge brown eyes fly open, Eddie’s terror reflected plainly as he stares up at Steve. 

“Jeez–Christ!” Eddie manages to get out, stuttered and slurred, cutting off when Steve makes a soft shushing sound. 

“Hey, man,” Steve murmurs, trying to keep his tone soothing as he gives him a tentative smile, “it’s me. It’s just me. You’re okay, you’re safe.” 

He brushes Eddie’s sweaty bangs back from his forehead, a gesture that would be too intimate in any other circumstances, and then just keeps trying to murmur reassuring shit to him, voice low and gentle. 

“I’m here, Eds. I’m here.” 

Eddie is shaking against him, but he isn’t squirming or trying to buck him off, which Steve takes as a good sign–as ideal, really, as Steve could hope for in this situation. One of Eddie’s hands comes up to run down his face, his curls shifting against the pillow as he shakes his head fervently. 

“Shit, Harrington, I thought–I mean, what I saw–” he trails off, lip trembling. 

“I get it, man. Trust me, I get it.”

Though Eddie had squeezed his eyes firmly shut through the come down, he blinks them open again, looking at Steve through the darkness.

“Yeah, uh. Guess you would, wouldn’t you? Probably better than anybody.” 

Steve can only nod his agreement.

“I mean, not just me. All of us get them,” he whispers, compelled to say it quietly, as he’s not sure if that truth is a comfort or a burden. “The nightmares, you know? Nance, Dustin, Robin–me.” 

“Well, can I just say, they truly and royally suck.”

“Yeah…can’t really argue with you there, man.”

Eddie seems to register, then, that Steve has curled his body around him. His steadily loosening posture goes stiff again, much to Steve’s disappointment, and his eyes dart over nervously to catch Steve’s as he sucks in his bottom lip. 

“Fuck, I-I’m sorry, dude. I totally didn’t mean to wake you up with my–terror-filled screams.”

The smile he shoots Steve is self-deprecating, tentative. 

Steve’s grip slackens, but he doesn’t pull away, still pressed against Eddie’s side. 

“Hey,” Steve coaxed, “you don’t need to do that, Eds. Like I said, we all fucking get them. That’s what I’m here for, okay? I–just wanna help when I can.”

The quirk of Eddie’s lips looks more genuine, now, some of the tension draining away. 

“You know, Harrington, it’s kinda annoying how much I know you mean that.”

“Better get used to it, Munson. Cuz I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve gives Eddie one final quick squeeze around his shoulders, wondering if the gesture somehow crosses the line of casual, friendly touch Steve has gotten used to doling out to Eddie since all the Upside Down shit started, the jocular back pats and hair ruffling he’d justified as just typical guy stuff. 

With that thought firmly at the front of his mind, Steve pulls away, albeit reluctantly. That said, he really doesn’t want to go back immediately on his word by slinking off to his bedroom, abandoning Eddie to fight off whatever images linger alone in the dark.

Especially not when he hears the almost imperceptible noise Eddie lets out as he stands. 

Steve eyes the floor speculatively, an idea already taking root in his head. 

“Speaking of, why don’t I just–stay here tonight. Yeah?” he suggests, already tossing the pillow and throw from the chair in the corner on the ground, making himself a pallet.

Sure, it’s not the most comfortable sleeping position ever, but between chairs in the Wheelers’ basement and the cold, hard floor of a Russian elevator, Steve’s done a lot worse. 

“C’mon, man–you don’t have to do that,” Eddie tries to protest. 

Like Steve can’t clearly see how haggard he looks, peering down at Steve through the curtain of his hair, the end of one strand damp where he’s pulled it up to his mouth and chewed on it.

Steve waves him off. “It’s not a problem. I already told you, dude, Henderson stays over all the time–you think I’ve never had to have a floor sleepover when he was around? Get real.”

Eddie quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“...Something tells me you’re not going anywhere even if I pull out my magnificent rhetorical skills from years of DMing  and try to argue with you, huh?”

Steve thinks that really Eddie’s just proved his point, the fact that, since Steve mentioned staying, he’s recovered himself enough to be teasing all the more reason sticking around is clearly a good thing. 

“Nope,” he answers, voice chipper as he shoots a finger gun at Eddie.

Eddie shakes his head ruefully. “Alright, didn’t think so.” 

Without further ado, Steve flops himself gracelessly onto his makeshift bed for the night, the thick carpet beneath softening his landing. 

“Night, Eddie.”

“Yeah. Yeah, night, Steve.”

Several long moments pass, and Steve listens, waiting to hear Eddie’s breathing evening out. It’s a sound he has become well acquainted with after many nights spent at the hospital, fitfully trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair at Eddie’s bedside. When he fails to hear that telltale signal, Steve can’t help but stay tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

He doesn’t have to wait long before Eddie breaks the silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls out, voice wavering. “Could you–fuck, man, I just need…”

He trails off, becoming muffled as he probably buries his face in his hands again. Even in the darkness, as Steve sits up, he can see the way Eddie’s shoulders hitch with his uneven breathing. 

Without a word, he abandons the pillow and blanket on the floor to climb back onto the bed. Eddie doesn’t even look up when Steve’s weight dips the mattress.

“Hey, man,” Steve hipchecks him, nudging him over gently, “move over.”

“Harrington…” Eddie drawls slowly, looking completely lost even as he does as requested. His eyes widen further when Steve climbs into the empty space he left behind. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans back onto the pillows, getting comfortable. 

“I know what it looks like, I just need some reassurance I’m not just hallucinating from blood loss or something here, man. Maybe you didn’t actually pull me, barely alive, out of that hellhole, and everything since then has all just been a really, really elaborate dream.” 

Steve laughs, jostling his shoulder slightly.

“You’re not hallucinating.”

Eddie continues to stare at him in silent disbelief, causing Steve to sigh and sit up.

“Look, man, I–I get it, okay? All this, afterwards…sometimes it helps, just…being together. Close by, you know?”

Steve had had Nancy and the pretense of normalcy after the first go around, though that had all quickly gone to hell. 

And the second time, when the kids truly were still kids, not the tiny adults they were fast becoming, there had been Dustin. The night after their second showdown, they’d slept side-by-side on their own makeshift palate on Joyce Byers’ living room floor, the other munchkins all scattered around them and Steve’s hand ruffled in Dustin’s hair, just the reassurance that he was there safe and comforting.

It was the best Steve had slept in almost a year. 

And then, after the third time, there had been Robin. Filling up his parents’ empty house with laughter, movie marathons and impromptu sleepovers. Robin crawling into his bed in the middle of the night because she didn’t want to sleep alone in the echoing walls of Casa de Harrington, the two of them kicking each other like two giggling preteens until they fell asleep. 

So, yeah. Together, in Steve’s many years of experience, was undeniably better.

“Besides, this way I can check and make sure you don’t actually bleed out in the middle of the night.” 

“...If you say so,” Eddie says dubiously, but he doesn’t argue any further, which Steve counts as a win. He’s learned to take them where he can get them, these days. 

But even after his agreement, Eddie’s restlessness is transparent. He fidgets beside Steve–drumming his fingers, squirming in the sheets as though trying to get comfortable, and eventually rolling half onto his side so that he’s facing away from Steve entirely. As Steve peers curiously at the outline of his shoulders, he realizes Eddie is still trembling, just a little.

His heart gives a painful kick in his chest. 

“Here, just–” Steve turns until he’s lined up along Eddie’s back and then wraps a hand around his waist, pulling him back against him.

Eddie’s fidgeting stops immediately as he freezes in Steve’s arms. 

“How’s that?” he asks into the waves of Eddie’s hair brushing against his face. “Better?” 

“Uh.” 

The hesitation in Eddie’s voice makes Steve really wish he could see his face, get a better read on the situation. Eddie’s so damn expressive, he might as well be the poster boy for “heart on his sleeve” as a phrase. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“Are you totally weirded out?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice casual. “If you want me to, like, stop, you can just…tell me, you know.” 

“No,” Eddie laughs, his head dipping downwards, “no, man, it’s…it’s definitely not that. I’m just trying to reconcile several shifting pieces of my world outlook into place all at once.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Eddie turns, then, tipping over onto his back again so he can stare at Steve in disbelief. Steve doesn’t loosen his hold on his waist. 

“Steve Harrington. Is in my bed. Spooning me,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “None of that strikes you as weird?”

“I’m not spooning you now,” Steve points out. “You turned around.”

“Dude!” Eddie smacks his shoulder, shaking his head, laughter in his voice. They’re close enough his hair tickles Steve’s face as it whips around them.

“And, no, not really,” Steve shrugs. “Probably doesn’t even rank in the top ten weirdest things I’ve done in the past three years.” 

“I mean…after the shit I’ve seen? I don’t doubt that, dude.”

But Eddie stares at him for a long beat after he admits it, eyes bright and brows drawn. There’s an expression, on his face, like he’d like to crack Steve open and see how his gears work, understand him from the inside out. 

Plenty of people have looked at Steve like they wanted him. Steve’s not sure anyone has ever looked at him like this before, though. 

The comforter has fallen down around Eddie’s waist, the shirt Steve had lent him riding up, exposing the pale line of his stomach. The worst of the wounds are still covered in bandages, the stitching hidden underneath them, but a patch of fresh, purple scarring spills out from the stark white gauze.

That’s the only real explanation that Steve has, for what he decides to break the sudden, loaded silence with.

(Plus maybe, just maybe, it’s one way of giving Eddie a part of himself, one jigsaw piece in the puzzle those bright brown eyes seem eager to solve.)

“You know, Nancy has a scar on her palm.”

When Eddie’s face turns towards his on the pillow, shooting him a puzzled look, he keeps going. 

“Here, like this,” Steve tries to sound nonchalant as he takes Eddie’s hand, drags a finger gently across it. He’s not sure how much he’s succeeded, seeing the way the furrow of Eddie’s brow deepens in the low light. “And it’s…from the first time, with the demogorgon? Nancy and Jonathan, they–they lured it out together, and they’ve got the matching scars to prove it. She explained it to me, later, what happened.”

“I mean…that sounds like a gnarly war wound,” Eddie observes hesitantly. Then, his lips tug into a lopsided smile. “Not as impressive as a missing nipple, of course, but, you know–not everybody can be as badass as me.”

“Shut up, dude,” Steve scoffs, trying to bite back his own smile as he very gently jostles Eddie’s arm. 

“What I’m trying to say, Harrington, is–I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this now?”

“I was getting to it, Eds. Sheesh, when it comes to patience, you're as bad as the munchkins.”

Eddie inclines his head for Steve to continue, not even bothering to hide his amusement. “You have my sincerest apologies for interrupting, Stevie. Please–carry on, my liege.”

“Thank you,” Steve says snippily, partially out of habit, and partially because returning to the topic at hand is making him a little nervous. “So, like I was saying–Jonathan and Nance, they’ve got these matching marks on their hands, right? And, after they got back together–not to sound like a stalker, or anything, for the record this was when we would hang out sometimes–but more than once I would…I would catch them, just. Doing this thing where they pressed their palms together, like this.”

He demonstrates, spreading his hand out so his and Eddie’s hands line up together perfectly, Steve’s own longer fingers inching out over the tips of Eddie’s own.

“I don’t think they ever realized I noticed. But I always knew, when they did it, they were comparing their–what did you call them?–their matching war wounds. Like they carried this secret little thing that would always tie them together, no matter what happened. And I’m not gonna pretend I wasn’t jealous, at first, but even then, I always thought it was…nice. The thought of having somebody who would always be connected to you, that way, where you could never really erase what you’d been through together.” 

A long beat of silence passes between them, him and Eddie staring at each other in the moonlight. Steve hopes, desperately, that maybe some part of what he’s trying to work up to saying is getting through. 

“That is…incredibly morbid. Especially for you, Harrington,” Eddie notes finally, a corner of his mouth ticking up in amusement. 

Steve huffs out a breath, beginning to pull his hand away, “Whatever, man, if you’re just gonna make fun, forget I said any–”

“Shit, no no no, dude!” Eddie’s arm flies out, gripping Steve tightly around the wrist, not letting him slink away. “I’m sorry, Stevie, I–that’s not what I meant. I do, I do get what you’re saying. Like you said, scars like that–they work like a symbol, that you’ve been through some tough shit together, side by side, and made it out the other end alive. I totally fucking get it, dude. And against all instincts, I do think it’s pretty romantic, in an absolutely metal sorta way. That’s why I said it like that. Just didn’t expect your romantic side to come with so much edge, Stevie boy.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve lets out a dry huff, “almost dying about a hundred times will do that to a person.” 

“Yeah, I guess it will. I’m, uh. Still not completely clear about what Wheeler and Byers’ big epic love story has to do with us, though?” Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “Unless…you’re here to wallow? In which case–I mean, fair enough. Wallow away, my good sir. You’ve more than earned it.”

“It’s not that,” Steve insists, even as he shrugs his shoulders, slightly conceding the point. “I mean, sure, with Nancy…I really thought she was it for me, once upon a time. And so when I saw what she had, with Jonathan–it hurt. Because it was her, of course, but also…because I wanted that with someone, as twisted as it maybe sounds. I’d gone through hell and back, too, and all I got was that nail bat and a bunch of mouthy kids to look out for.”

Eddie lets out a bark of laughter, and Steve grins back at him.  

“Not that I’m complaining, or anything. I mean, I got Robin, too, and I don’t know what I’d do without her, or the hellions, for that matter. But, I–”

Deliberately, he tugs up his own shirt, shifting until he’s pressing carefully against Eddie’s side. Their matching bandages brush, an identical swath of white in the darkness, tangled scars seeming to almost curl together. It’s hard, in that moment, to tell where one of them ends and the other begins. 

“I just–never thought I’d have anybody else to match with. That’s all.” 

“But–now you do?” Eddie says slowly, something cautious in his voice.

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugs, the corner of his mouth curving upwards in a tentative half-smile. “Now I’ve got you.”

“...You got me,” Eddie agrees quietly, almost like he’s afraid to speak that part out loud. “Dragged me out of hell and everything, Harrington. No return receipt after all that so…don’t really think there’s any getting rid of me now, even if you wanted to.”

“Good,” Steve says curtly, with a sharp, certain nod of his head, leaving no room for any creeping doubts. “Like I said, Munson, I’ve been waiting on this for a while, so you don’t get to run out on me now.”

Eddie shakes his head again, lips curling in bemusement. 

“You are something else entirely, Steve Harrington,” he admits. “Full of surprises.”

“Good ones?” Steve asks, suddenly self-conscious.

Eddie tilts his head back and forth, as though he’s considering.

(Later, he will tease Steve about it mercilessly.

“Was that the infamous Harrington charm at work? Bet you tell that one to all the boys you lure into your bed, seduce them with tales of matching battle wounds connecting you like a pair of fated lovers.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Eds,” Steve will counter with that same sincerity that always sends Eddie blushing, “cuz I’ve never said anything like that before. Not to anybody. Not before you.”)

But, for now, it takes only a moment for Eddie’s face to dissolve into a warm smile. Reaching over, he tangles his fingers with Steve’s again, tugging their interlaced hands up to rest against one of the scarred patches stretching across his belly. 

The skin feels smooth under Steve’s hand. For a moment, he wonders how it would feel, to press his lips there. 

“Yeah,” Eddie answers, eyes sparkling with so many promises of the future, for now left unsaid. “Yeah, I’d say pretty good so far.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

'We buy ugly houses' is code for 'we steal vulnerable peoples' homes'

Tonight (May 11) at 7PM, I’m in CALGARY for Wordfest, with my novel Red Team Blues; I’ll be hosted by Peter Hemminger at the Memorial Park Library, 2nd Floor.

Home ownership is the American dream: not only do you get a place to live, free from the high-handed dictates of a landlord, but you also get an asset that appreciates, building intergenerational wealth while you sleep — literally.

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/11/ugly-houses-ugly-truth/#homevestor

Of course, you can’t have it both ways. If your house is an asset you use to cover falling wages, rising health care costs, spiraling college tuition and paper-thin support for eldercare, then it can’t be a place you live. It’s gonna be an asset you sell — or at the very least, borrow so heavily against that you are in constant risk of losing it.

This is the contradiction at the heart of the American dream: when America turned its back on organized labor as an engine for creating prosperity and embraced property speculation, it set itself on the road to serfdom — a world where the roof over your head is also your piggy bank, destined to be smashed open to cover the rising costs that an organized labor movement would have fought:

https://gen.medium.com/the-rents-too-damned-high-520f958d5ec5

Today, we’re hit the end of the road for the post-war (unevenly, racially segregated) shared prosperity that made it seem, briefly, that everyone could get rich by owning a house, living in it, then selling it to everybody else. Now that the game is ending, the winners are cashing in their chips:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom-bfad6f3b35a9

The big con of home ownership is proceeding smartly on schedulee. First, you let the mark win a little, so they go all in on the scam. Then you take it all back. Obama’s tolerance of bank sleze after the Great Financial Crisis kicked off the modern era of corporations and grifters stealing Americans’ out from under them, forging deeds in robosigning mills:

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/us-breaks-down-93-bln-robo-signing-settlement-2013-02-28

The thefts never stopped. Today on Propublica, by Anjeanette Damon, Byard Duncan and Mollie Simon bring a horrifying, brilliantly reported account of the rampant, bottomless scams of Homevestors, AKA We Buy Ugly Houses, AKA “the #1 homebuyer in the USA”:

https://www.propublica.org/article/ugly-truth-behind-we-buy-ugly-houses

Homevestors — an army of the hedge fund Bayview Asset Management — claims a public mission: to bail out homeowners sitting on unsellable houses with all-cash deals. The company’s franchisees — 1,150 of them in 48 states — then sprinkle pixie dust and secret sauce on these “ugly houses” and sell them at a profit.

But Propublica’s investigation — which relied on whistleblowers, company veterans, court records and interviews with victims — tells a very different story. The Homevestor they discovered is a predator that steals houses out from under elderly people, disabled people, people struggling with mental illness and other vulnerable people. It’s a company whose agents have a powerful, well-polished playbook that stops family members from halting the transfers the company’s high-pressure salespeople set in motion.

Propublica reveals homeowners with advanced dementia who signed their shaky signatures to transfers that same their homes sold out from under them for a fraction of their market value. They show how Homevestor targets neighborhoods struck by hurricanes, or whose owners are recently divorced, or sick. One whistleblower tells of how the company uses the surveillance advertising industry to locate elderly people who’ve broken a hip: “a 60-day countdown to death — and, possibly, a deal.” The company’s mobile ads are geofenced to target people near hospitals and rehab hospitals, in hopes of finding desperate sellers who need to liquidate homes so that Medicaid will cover their medical expenses.

The sales pitches are relentless. One of Homevestor’s targets was a Texas woman whose father had recently been murdered. As she grieved, they blanketed her in pitches to sell her father’s house until “checking her mail became a traumatic experience.”

Real-estate brokers are bound by strict regulations, but not house flippers like Homevestors. Likewise, salespeople who pitch other high-ticket items, from securities to plane tickets — are required to offer buyers a cooling-off period during which they can reconsider their purchases. By contrast, Homevestors’ franchisees are well-versed in “muddying the title” to houses after the contract is signed, filing paperwork that makes it all but impossible for sellers to withdraw from the sale.

This produces a litany of ghastly horror-stories: homeowners who end up living in their trucks after they were pressured into a lowball sales; sellers who end up dying in hospital beds haunted by the trick that cost them their homes. One woman who struggled with hoarding was tricked into selling her house by false claims that the city would evict her because of her hoarding. A widow was tricked into signing away the deed to her late husband’s house by the lie that she could do so despite not being on the deed. One seller was tricked into signing a document he believed to be a home equity loan application, only to discover he had sold his house at a huge discount on its market value. An Arizona woman was tricked into selling her dead mother’s house through the lie that the house would have to be torn down and the lot redeveloped; the Homevestor franchisee then flipped the house for 5,500% of the sale-price.

The company vigorously denies these claims. They say that most people who do business with Homevestors are happy with the outcome; in support of this claim, they cite internal surveys of their own customers that produce a 96% approval rating.

When confronted with the specifics, the company blamed rogue franchisees. But Propublica obtained training materials and other internal documents that show that the problem is widespread and endemic to Homevestors’ business. Propublica discovered that at least eight franchisees who engaged in conduct the company said it “didn’t tolerate” had been awarded prizes by the company for their business acumen.

Franchisees are on the hook for massive recurring fees and face constant pressure from corporate auditors to close sales. To make those sales, franchisees turn to Homevana’s training materials, which are rife with predatory tactics. One document counsels franchisees that “pain is always a form of motivation.” What kind of pain? Lost jobs, looming foreclosure or a child in need of surgery.

A former franchisee explained how this is put into practice in the field: he encountered a seller who needed to sell quickly so he could join his dying mother who had just entered a hospice 1,400 miles away. The seller didn’t want to sell the house; they wanted to “get to Colorado to see their dying mother.”

These same training materials warn franchisees that they must not deal with sellers who are “subject to a guardianship or has a mental capacity that is diminished to the point that the person does not understand the value of the property,” but Propublica’s investigation discovered “a pattern of disregard” for this rule. For example, there was the 2020 incident in which a 78-year-old Atlanta man sold his house to a Homevestors franchisee for half its sale price. The seller was later shown to be “unable to write a sentence or name the year, season, date or month.”

The company tried to pin the blame for all this on bad eggs among its franchisees. But Propublica found that some of the company’s most egregious offenders were celebrated and tolerated before and after they were convicted of felonies related to their conduct on behalf of the company. For example, Hi-Land Properties is a five-time winner of Homevestors’ National Franchise of the Year prize. The owner was praised by the CEO as “loyal, hardworking franchisee who has well represented our national brand, best practices and values.”

This same franchisee had “filed two dozen breach of contract lawsuits since 2016 and clouded titles on more than 300 properties by recording notices of a sales contract.” Hi-Land “sued an elderly man so incapacitated by illness he couldn’t leave his house.”

Another franchisee, Patriot Holdings, uses the courts aggressively to stop families of vulnerable people from canceling deals their relatives signed. Patriot Holdings’ co-owner, Cory Evans, eventually pleaded guilty to to two felonies, attempted grand theft of real property. He had to drop his lawsuits against buyers, and make restitution.

According to Homevestors’ internal policies, Patriot’s franchise should have been canceled. But Homevestors allowed Patriot to stay in business after Cory Evans took his name off the business, leaving his brothers and other partners to run it. Nominally, Cory Evans was out of the picture, but well after that date, internal Homevestors included Evans in an award it gave to Patriot, commemorating its sales (Homevestors claims this was an error).

Propublica’s reporters sought comment from Homevestors and its franchisees about this story. The company hired “a former FBI spokesperson who specializes in ‘crisis and special situations’ and ‘reputation management’ and funnelled future questions through him.”

Internally, company leadership scrambled to control the news. The company convened a webinar in April with all 1,150 franchisees to lay out its strategy. Company CEO David Hicks explained the company’s plan to “bury” the Propublica article with “‘strategic ad buys on social and web pages’ and ‘SEO content to minimize visibility.’”

https://www.propublica.org/article/homevestors-aims-to-bury-propublica-reporting

Franchisees were warned not to click links to the story because they “might improve its internet search ranking.”

Even as the company sought to “bury” the story and stonewalled Propublica, they cleaned house, instituting new procedures and taking action against franchisees identified in Propublica’s article. “Clouding titles” is now prohibited. Suing sellers for breach of contract is “discouraged.” Deals with seniors “should always involve family, attorneys or other guardians.”

During the webinar, franchisees “pushed back on the changes, claiming they could hurt business.”

If you’ve had experience with hard-sell house-flippers, Propublica wants to know: “If you’ve had experience with a company or buyer promising fast cash for homes, our reporting team wants to hear about it.”

Catch me on tour with Red Team Blues in Calgary, Toronto, DC, Gaithersburg, Oxford, Hay, Manchester, Nottingham, London, and Berlin!

[Image ID: A Depression-era photo of a dour widow standing in front of a dilapidated cabin. Next to her is Ug, the caveman mascot for Homevestors, smiling and pointing at her. Behind her is a 'We buy ugly houses' sign.

Image: Homevestors https://www.homevestors.com/

Fair use: https://www.eff.org/issues/intellectual-property

[octuscle]

Now open under new management (remake)

Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!

Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?

Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.

Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.

Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"

Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.

[lawofficeofryansshipp]

Mobile Home And Residential Evictions In Florida: What Every Landlord Needs To Know

Mobile Home And Residential Evictions In Florida

Mobile Home And Residential Evictions In Florida At Law Office of Ryan S. Shipp, PLLC, we understand that navigating the eviction process can be overwhelming for landlords and property managers. Our team specializes in helping you regain possession of your property quickly and efficiently. Whether you’re dealing with mobile home lot tenants or traditional residential renters, it’s crucial to…

[luveline]

so! we were talking about hockey!sirius a couple days ago soooooooo

i would love to request hockey!sirius flirting with a reader who is not yet his girlfriend. (bonus points if he does the lighting her cigarettes for her like i would die actually)

thank you for requesting! —hockey player!sirius asks you on a date. 1k

"Hey, you." 

You squeeze your box of cigarettes but manage to keep your flinch to yourself. "Sirius, you're like a ghost," you complain, letting your bag fall back behind you. 

"A fit one, at least?" he asks. "I've caught you, haven't I?" 

You fish your box of cigarettes from your bag guiltily. "Don't tell my coach and I'll give you one." 

"Give me two and I'll let you borrow my clipper."

"A clipper," you drawl, drawing two cigarettes from the box to pass him. "I didn't think you were rich." 

"You know, my parents are loaded." 

You put a cigarette between your lips and shove the box down the depths of your bag, your dirty little secret hidden once again. Sirius knows because he's the only other idiot sportsman at your rink stupid enough to smoke at practice. "Weird brag." 

"Well," —he bobs his head from left to right gently, inhaling sharply as he lights the end of his cigarette, breathing through it, "it would be if I spoke to them." 

"Oh, shit. Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," he says, his cigarette held carelessly between his lips as he ushers you forward. He's much more careful about you, holding your arm in a gentle hand as he lights the end of your cigarette, and nodding encouragingly when you inhale, his eyes a stony grey where they meet yours. "I brought it up." His hand coasts briefly up to your shoulder before he takes a step back. "I like telling you things." 

You lean against the wall and Sirius leans beside you. The outside of the rink is boring, a huge parking lot full of cars going in and out. Sirius' car, a dark cherry red oldsmobile with more scratches than paint, is parked not too far from where you're standing, a dent the size of a sledgehammer head in the driver's side that wasn't there before. "What happened to the vampmobile?" you ask. 

"James. I bet you never would've guessed," he says sarcastically.  

"I wouldn't have. He's a sweetheart. I'd be much more tempted to think you did it doing doughnuts on the industrial–" 

Sirius cuts you off, flicking the tip of his cigarette with a put upon attitude, "I don't do doughnuts. You think so little of me, sweetpea." 

He says sweetpea like you're the cutest thing on earth. You nudge him mildly and stub your cigarette out on top of the square black bin, half-smoked. "I better go home."

"Working tonight?" 

"No, I finally have a night off. Got a ton of stuff I need to do, but it shouldn't take long." You lift your arms into the air and stretch your sore shoulders, angled away from him to avoid giving him a show of the world's ugliest yawn.  

"Wanna get something to eat?" 

You hurt your jaw trying to stop your yawn midway through, arms falling flat to your thighs. Sirius isn't looking at you, gaze on the vamp mobile, smoke curling like a ribbon between his fingers. He has nicely shaped hands, very boney in the sharp way but still rather inviting, when you think about it. 

"Now?" you ask. 

"Tonight. If you want to, I'll take you out." He takes another drag, eyes flaring in time with the ash. "Don't act like you don't know," he says through the exhale. 

"Know what, Black?" you ask. 

"That I'm mad for you." 

You're suddenly and deeply aware of how you look, a mess after practice, hair straggled from its styling, face without any make up. There's nothing wrong with the way you look, but when you picture someone on Sirius' arm, it's never you. You fiddle with your jacket zipper, voice low, "I didn't know that." 

"I don't believe you." He's not accusatory, simply stating a fact. Sirius stubs his cigarette out next to yours, black hair ruffled in the wind, the scent of him adrift. He smells like smoke, of course, but there's a nicer woodiness beneath it. "I'll take the way you're looking at me as a solid maybe. You can text me." 

"No, I mean. Yeah. I mean–" You stammer as Sirius laughs warmly. "I'll text you. If you really are mad for me." 

"Want me to prove it?" he asks. 

Your lips part of their own accord. You look like a deer-in-the-headlights for sure, completely stopped by the implication. Even the thought of a kiss from his has your pulse capering hard. His hands cold from the rink pressed gently to the warmer stretch of your collar, slipping into the hemline, curling behind your neck as he steps close. You can't summon the kiss itself, too close to bursting, because what would you do? Where would you put your hands? Is there a specific place? 

"Don't look so nervous," he murmurs, his eyebrows pinching ever so slightly together. "I'm not gonna jump you." 

"It's not like that, I just don't know…" 

"About us?" he asks. "That's why I'm trying to ask you on a date. You can make your mind up about us and I'll help you bulk for sectionals."

"I don't need bulking," you say. 

He laughs. "No, you're perfect. Beside your bad habit, that is. We have that in common." Sirius steps forward, pauses. "Can I kiss your cheek?" 

His asking is the last straw. You're melted like a slush curl. 

"Yeah," you say weakly. 

Sirius kisses your cheek gently, and then he tucks his face against the side of your head and gives you a hug. "Text me, yeah? If you want." He peels back to grin at you. "I have to go back in. Elite league won't win itself. Talk to you later, doll."

You watch him retreat back into the centre, not sure what you want to do first; text him, or smoke another cigarette. In the end, you decide against the cigarette. If he's really going to prove how mad he is for you, you don't want to taste like smoke. 

[chronicallyonline101]

OH WAIITERRR!!! May i have your finest glass of leone abbacchio x reader pretty please! One where the reader finds Abbacchio beat up on the curbside only to find out he got into some kind of bar fight! So she pulls up and is like "Again??! Get in," and takes him home, patches him up, FLUFFY STUFF!! WITH A CHERRY ON TOP

ORDER UP!!! Here is your glass i do hope you enjoy! (i wrote this on mobile so if the formatting is weird thas why soz pooks(

Nights of White Satin

Leone Abbacchio x reader || Oneshot, Fluff

You traced your thumb along the bottom of his bruised lip; bloody, illuminated by nothing but an old, flickering streetlamp in the midst of a sad, gloomy night. His purple lipstick had long since worn off, but the mottled blue's of his injuries did well to replace it. Despite how you tried to peer at him, his eyes always managed to evade yours - glued to the ground in what was a mixture of shame and fury welling together in an ombre cocktail.

Cars flew by behind you. Tires screeching against wet concrete, the thrum of engines and splashing puddles but none of it mattered. You fixated on the man in front of you with clear concern. Concern that only had him biting his cheek with disinterest.

"Leone... what happened?" You leant closer to him, a frown settled across your lips as you gently moved your hand to cup at his delicate cheek and redirect his gaze toward yourself.

For a moment, Abbacchio allowed himself the comfort of your presence; leaning into your touch like a feline starved of affection, but when your fingers brushed across a stinging open wound he hissed in a breath through his teeth and reeled backward. Now grounded, he reprimanded himself for getting so comfortable and took to curling his hands into fists.

"It's nothing," He grouched, turning his gaze to the floor once again. "Just some work things. You know how it is."

You leant back a little, swallowing thickly. Of course... Abbacchio's 'work'. The thing you would call organised criminal activity was just a normal Tuesday for him - to no avail, looking at him here, sat in the gutter with a broken wine bottle to his side... you felt that perhaps what had happened was less serious than what he was making it out to be.

With a short, frustrated huff, you stood upright. Hands on your hips as you looked up wistfully. The sky was clouded, not that it mattered; you could never see the stars in the city, but the sight of such gloom reminded you of how unsafe it was to be on these streets of Napoli late into the night.

"You got into another fight again, didn't you?"

He winced at your question. Tensing when he felt your gaze turn accusatory. There was no way he could deny it. The amount of times you'd find him in this condition - or worse - had made such a task impossible. Instead, he let out a groan and while burying his head into his hands mumbled:

"He made fun of my hair."

His words were followed by a shameful silence.

You sighed, pinching at your temple before decidely shoving a hand into your pocket and fumbling about for your car keys. Abbacchio lifted his gaze to watch you. After a few seconds, you pried the jangling things from your pocket and pressed at a button to unlock your car which had been hastily parked atop of a curb only a few feet away.

You turned toward the vehicle with a fervent urgency. "Come on then."

His brows furrowed, and for a moment he remained still, watching with an intense glower while you clicked open the door to the drivers seat and hopped inside.

Upon realising he hadn't followed, you honked the car horn at him with urgency. It was with that, he slowly arose to his feet; wobbling unsteadily for a few seconds. Glass crunched beneath his shoes as he walked toward the passenger seat to your car, and as he took his place beside you.

You stuffed the key into the ignition, twisted, and soon the two of you were off. At first, the atmosphere in the car was silent. Filled only by the gentle rumbling of its engine, but it was too much for Abbacchio. Silence meant thought, and right now he didn't want to deal with his thoughts.

So he spoke: "What are you doing?"

"Taking you home." A small huff left your nose, condensating against the cold air. Your grip around the wheel tightened, praying to anything out there that he would drop it at that.

You wanted to help him, but he was so damn stubborn. When his brows rose in distress, you knew he'd put up a fight:

"You don't know where I live." He griped, and crossed his arms over his chest in disobedience. He cocked his head in the direction of the window, watching with hazy yellowish eyes as the flashing world passed by.

Another sigh passed your lips as you admitted defeat. "My home. We're going to my home, Leone."

"Why? I don't want to---"

"---I'm trying to help you. Please... let me help."

For a moment, you risked peeling your eyes away from the road. Wide and pleading, you watched longingly while he glared out the window beside him. His silver hair glimmered prettily against the night sky; the moons shadow befell him like a cotton blanket and even in a roughed up, bloody state he was so... perfect. So radiant. An image of tragedy yet glowing with hope.

"Your my friend." You decidely went on. "And I like you."

And at your words, Abbacchio bit into his bottom lip to hide a whimper of utter sorrow.

A friend. His friend. You were his friend.

The venomous thorns of guilt coiled around his heart like a snake; he was wreaked with shame. You were so good to him, such a kind, loving person and here he was - a criminal. A delinquent.

How many times had you found him at the side of the road? How many times had you welcomed him into the warmth of your home? Bathed his wounds in salt? Patched him up with a hug and a pat on the back?

It was sickening, to think of how often you opened your heart to him and how little he gave back. Every night he found himself here with you he put you in danger, it was cruel and selfish, and yet he loved every second of it. As nonchalant as he tried to be, he loved the attention you gave him.

Such is why, though he grumbled and complained, he never once stopped you from taking him home. Never halted his footing as he traipsed along behind you and never snatched your housekeys from your palms; he watched curiously all the while you welcomed him into your abode, sitting with compliance on your couch as you ushered about in the dark to try and a first aid kit.

When you finally settled down beside him, there was a small cotton ball clutched between your fingers. Doused in isopropyl alcohol; you lifted it up to gently press at an open wound. He winced and flinched backward,

"You need to stop getting into these fights." You tutted at him, relocating the cotton ball to his lip where you then cleared away his smudging lipstick.

There was a huff, but he moatly stayed silent. Leaning into your touch. Your eyes lifted to meet his, curious and attentive; he swallowed thickly, adams apple bobbing against the curve of his neck. The room grew warm while you held each others glaze, and with a light, awkward cough you broke away from the stare to dash the now red cotton ball to the side.

"Did you get hurt badly?"

He scoffed, turning his head to look to the side. "No. I left him worse for wear."

There was a short laugh. A rare sound, coming from him; and though it was quiet, it was honest. It told you he wasn't as grumpy as he made himself out to be and at that, you smiled.

"Mm. I feel bad. Maybe I should go back and help him out too, eh?" You laughed at your own joke, reaching down to grab at some gauze for his wounds.

You heard him grunt above you and failed to notice the expression of discomfort that befell his face. "I'd rather you stay, actually... I like you being here."

You paused. Lifting yourself up to look him in the eyes, brow quirked in a smug perplexion.

"You like it when I patch you up?" You leant closer to him; you could feel his breath fanning against your face, his breath once again hitching at your sudden closeness. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

His lips parted for a moment. He thought that perhaps you were going to go further. That maybe, you'd press your lips to his... but you didn't. He was left sourly dissapointed when instead you took to pressing the gauze against his wounded cheek.

"I do." He mumbled.

He went quiet, after that. Growing shy, unsure of himself or what he was even saying. He was pretty drunk, to be fair; he'd likely regret how mushy he was getting, but right now he was happy. He was content. His body ached like a battered banana, but every touch your fingers danced upon his fair skin had him leaning closer with serenity.

When you were done cleaning him up you packed away the first aid kit and he watched for a while as you teetered about putting things away and preparing both of you tea. He hovered behind you for a while and once you were done, wormed his way into your bed; the two of you shared it for the night because, well, he was injured and needed the bed and it was stupid to let you get a bad back on the couch because of stupid societal norms regarding bed sharing. And if he did reach out to hold you in the night, so what?

Abbacchio liked you a lot. He hated having you worry for him so much, but... he also loved how you treated him. It was gentle. Loving; thing's he could never have as a skilled mafioso. It was selfish for him to seek you out like this but at the same time, he knew he wouldn't stop. He'd get into more bar fights, he'd find himself in more scuffles and at the end of each day, he'd find himself in your house; your embrace; he'd find himself wrapped in your love.

(I HOPE THIS IS GOOD!!! IF NOT I CAN CHANGE IT PLS LMK!!!! to the ppl that sent in the Kira and Melone reqs I'm almost done with them! :) im just being lazy)

[seoksgrl]

rather be dead than cool, 2. : jjk nerd!jungkook x popular!reader college au, dislike to love genderbent she's all that au

tws: rich antics, irene and mina being mean girls, name-calling

m.list prev | next

The address you texted to Jeongguk, after obtaining his mobile number, is in the centre of Gangnam, a street lined with row upon row of stores fit for those who have cash to burn. If you’re going to get Jeon towards your end of the popularity spectrum, it’s imperative that you get him out of whatever baggy, dark outfit he plans to turn up in today. Once the clothes are dealt with, you can work on that shaggy mop of hair before figuring out how to introduce him to your scene. 

That will likely be the easier part - once Jeon is seen with you, campus interest will soar. 

“How are things going?” Irene coos down the phone, an edge to her tone that often came when the two of you would play these kinds of games. Finding ways to one up the other, whether it be over boys or over money. While Irene is the friend you have known the longest, you can’t say she’s the one you trust. Though, your competitive streaks have always run alongside each other, the perfect match. 

You check your appearance in the store window, the first place you’re expecting to visit with Jeongguk. There’s a party this weekend at an old friend’s cabin, and if you’re going to bring Jeongguk, he needs to wear something that will enhance the foundations you managed to spot upon your first meeting. Brushing your hair over your shoulder, you reapply lip balm, using the window as your mirror, “Things are going according to plan. Jeon isn’t anything I can’t handle,”

Irene hums on the other end of the phone, though it’s anything but encouraging, “As long as you don’t plan on throwing in the towel before we’ve even started,”

“Not at all,” You grin at your own reflection, “He’ll be walking into the spring formal with all eyes on him when I’m finished. And I’ll take a ride in the Porsche as a reward,”

You can see it now, Irene’s eyes flashing with annoyance at your confidence. You often wonder if pissing off your best friend should bring you this much joy, but before you can ponder any longer, a familiar dark frame comes into sight down the street, skulking through the people on the sidewalk, and you end the call with Irene as your eyes land on Jeongguk. 

He’s dressed in what appears to be his favourite colour, black, paint-stained jeans and an oversized t-shirt. All that covers him from the unpredictable spring weather is a thin, denim jacket - also paint-stained. You wonder if it’s intentional.

He stops in front of you, large frame so imposing you have to take a small step back, your Gucci boots hardly a match for Jeongguk’s height. Your head tilts, eyes meeting his own weary gaze before you flash him your winning smile. 

“I’m glad you got here in one piece,” You hadn’t asked if Jeongguk drives, but you assume he must, having walked from the direction of the parking lot behind the row of designer stores, “I hope it was easy for you to find,”

He frowns at that, shuffling from foot to foot and adjusting his backpack a couple times. The wind has already managed to wriggle some fly-away hairs loose from whatever excuse for a ponytail he has, the strands falling around his face and brushing his chin. You cannot wait to get a few inches chopped - the length doesn’t bother you, but you can spot the split ends from here, for goodness sake. 

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, and so you press on, still wearing the bright, chirpy grin you save for meeting new people. You always like to make a good first impression, and you remember it being one of the few things your parents instilled in you as a child. Your other habits were picked up from movies, being that you rarely had time to do anything else as a youngster. Father was never home and when mother wasn’t shopping, she was organising charity events for your father and his work colleagues. 

You shake away the oddly sombre memory and continue with the task at hand, leading Jeongguk into the first store - Gucci itself. 

“We’ll start here,” You say, maintaining control as you lead Jeongguk further into the store, towards where the men’s shirts and slacks are kept, “I have an appointment booked for your hair,”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jeongguk reach up and tug at the strands by his chin, brushing them behind his reddened ear. You continue to talk him through the itinerary for the day, though his pleading eyes continue to drill into the side of your head, and you have no choice but to turn, brow quirked, “What’s wrong?”

“I, ah -” He clears his throat, “I can’t afford anything here,”

You wave away Jeongguk’s worries, exhaling a short laugh, “I can take care of it. I have more than enough money, and plenty of good friendships with the staff. You can use my black card,”

“Black card?” He asks, dark brows furrowing, creating a tiny wrinkle between them, “Is that like store credit?”

You exhale again, but this time you’re not laughing. You realise not everyone pays for their tuition into Yonsei, and you’re just now realising perhaps Jeongguk is there on a scholarship. That would mean he’s very talented, something that intrigues you, though you don’t have time to be intrigued by your science experiment. 

“It’s a luxury credit card, Jeon,” You blink, “My family is very wealthy, and like I said,” You flip your hair over your shoulder, “I want to help,”

Not completely the truth, but Jeongguk doesn’t need to know that.

His lips part for a couple moments, before falling shut, and you continue walking with him towards the Oxford shirts. The sales assistant, eager and a little annoying, strolls over, their brows raising a fraction when they spot the tall, out-of-place guy beside you. Their lips part, their welcoming disposition betrayed by the obvious judgement in their gaze before their eyes slide back to you. 

“Miss Y/N, so lovely to have you back,” The young girl says, hands clasp in front of her, bright pink nails start against the black of her uniform as her eyes once more stray to Jeongguk, confusion marring her strictly sunny expression, “How can we help you today?”

You step forward, gesturing at Jeongguk with one hand and sliding a thumb across your phone screen with another. You had spent last night brainstorming the optimum stylistic direction to take with Jeongguk, wanting to enhance what good features he has in order to make his transformation believable. He still has to win Spring King, after all, and to do that, he needs to look and act the part. Turning up in head-to-toe designer the day after wearing his paint stained baggy jeans isn’t gonna work.

“My friend is looking for a few staple capsule pieces to add to his wardrobe,” You say, walking further into the store, followed closely by the assistant, and then Jeongguk who lags behind, looking entirely like a fish out of water, “Nothing too flashy, just several timeless pieces to get him started. He’s new to designer,”

The shop assistant makes a noise as if to say yeah, I can tell and you raise your brows expectantly, watching as she stumbles over her words, rushing towards the back of the store where the men’s shirts are displayed neatly, “O-of course, miss. Absolutely,” 

When you turn, Jeongguk is watching the whole exchange with curiosity and a little disbelief, his brows are drawn together, eyes impossibly brown and impossibly wide. You pause in your step, raising a manicured eyebrow in response, “Do you have something to say?”

“Does everyone always do as you tell them to?”

You smile, “Yes, now come on,” clicking your fingers, you turn and walk to where the assistant is waiting for you, not bothering to turn to check if Jeongguk is following.

He is.

Irene smacks her lips as she reapplies her lipgloss, using the mirrored wall in the new sushi restaurant, Stix, to see her reflection. You watch her fluff up her hair, wiping at the corner of her mouth, and you decide to check over your own appearance. 

As expected, it’s flawless. You always apply a lip tint if you know you’re going to be eating, saving you the time of reapplying. Your mother always told you that was rude, and so the habit has stuck. The urge to make a dig at Irene raises it’s ugly head, but you successfully shut it down. After all, you’d hate to make a fuss, and to embarrass your friend. 

“Have you played with your little lab rat yet?” Irene asks, grinning as she turns away from the mirror, putting her lip gloss back in her purse and pulling out her compact. Her makeup is flawless, but you don’t say anything as she begins to touch up her already perfect skin. 

“I took him shopping a couple days ago,” Mina snickers, and you shrug, continuing, “I didn’t have a lot to work with, new clothes were imperative if I want to recreate his image,”

Irene giggles, “Sounds like you had fun dressing up your little pet project,” 

“It was a means to an end. The shirts were basic, Jeongguk didn’t want to branch out,” In fact, he didn’t take any of your fashion advice beyond pointing out what he would need from around the store. He picked up a few white t-shirts, white button-ups and some black slacks. You had to practically force him to get the shoes you suggested, if only to prevent him from wearing Gucci dress pants with his sneakers. 

You can safely say you’ve never met someone so stubborn. 

“Are you gonna bring him to Jimin’s party on Saturday?” Mina asks, wiggling her brows as if the mere idea is mischievous, “He could be your date,”

Irene let out a yelp of laughter, and Mina joins in, the pair of them cackling like two evil witches. You watch them with a vague sense of annoyance, a familiar flare of stubbornness coming to life in your chest as you remain stone-faced, waiting for their laughter to die down. When it does, it peters out, their eyes shifting between you and each other as the silence grows. 

“Y/N, did you hear Mina’s joke?”

“I did,” You smile, cat-like and confident, “I didn’t get the joke. I mean, Jeongguk’s reputation is about to be improved tenfold. Why not let people think he’s my date?”

Mina gasps and Irene’s plucked brows raise in a look of abject horror, she actually puts a hand on her chest as if she has been scandalised by your question. You can hardly see the problem with it - after all, it was your understanding that in order to ensure you winning the bet, the whole thing would end with you and Jeongguk attending the Spring formal together anyway. It makes sense in your head. 

“Y/N, you can’t be serious,” Irene says, snorting, “bringing that loser to Jimin’s party? You two just broke up, Jimin will think you have gone insane,”

You frown, taking a sip of water, “I’m not sure about that. Nobody knows who Jeongguk is, and once I’ve got him styled appropriately, people will just assume he’s a random hot guy I’ve picked up. If Jimin can be a cliche and score a cheerleader, why not be a little mysterious?”

Irene mutters, "I don't know about 'hot',"

You smile, brittle and a little annoyed, "He will be when I'm finished with him. Have some faith, Irene,"

When you glance at Mina, she seems to be grasping where you’re coming from, but as per usual, Irene doesn’t see your side of things, and she rolls her eyes, returning to her useless endeavour to fix problems that don’t exist with her makeup. You smile blandly at Mina, sipping at your water and scrolling through your socials.

taglist: @kyglover @jk97bam

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[novathestarrygalaxy]

More than Friends [Park sunghoon x Female Reader]

Word Count: 5,482.

Warnings: None

Themes: Fluff, Childhood best friends to lover

Not Proofread since it lags a lot on mobile. I wrote this on laptop but I don't have access to it anymore.

Now Playing:I Fell In Love With My Best Friend

Sunghoon has always been the quiet type. Maybe not that type where he's too shy to approach someone, rather, he's that type who is happy with the friends he found at the playground 12 years ago and not looking for anyone new. With the exception of two, all his friends have been with him since kindergarten. Though there's a visible age gap in the friend group, they somehow managed to become the most popular of high school students with their charm. Sunghoon is content with his friends and enjoys their company. The only annoying things in his life are the crazy fangirls (he never thought high school guys could have those) and mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Since he had seen the crazy fangirls drooling all over him, any interest in dating or pursuing someone vanished in an instant. Not like he had any before-but the thought had been there. Now even the thought makes him nervous. Dating someone who keeps his hair in her locker? Nah, he'd pass.

Truth be told, he's more interested in enjoying his high school life with his friends rather than spending it with some girl who would get jealous if he even looks at another girl. And he's speaking from experience. That was his first and last relationship, which only lasted for two weeks. And it hadn't ended there like he expected or wished. The girl had some crazy antics up her sleeves, which he only realized later when he found a tweet of hers about how he had used her and dumped her. Though all her tries failed, since it was known around school that Sunghoon is a sweetheart to everyone. He wouldn't do something horrible to a girl. Plus, everyone knew how much of a crazy fangirl Tessa was for Sunghoon, so nobody bothered to believe her.

Currently, he is trying to get through a series of math and physics homework their teacher assigned for them over the weekend.  He is over at his best friend Jake's house, eating ice cream and expressing his frustration through chewing the spoon. He heaves a sigh and groans," Jake, please let me copy your homework. I'll pay for the movie tickets next time, I promise." 

Jake looked up at him with a mouthful of ice cream and mumbled something. Sunghoon just rolled his eyes in annoyance. "And how many times have I told you to not talk with food in your mouth?'

Jake gulps down the ice cream and looks at his best friend with a sheepish smile." Sorry, old habits-And how many times have I told you that, no, I won't let you copy off me! You should do your own work and be independent. I'll not always be there to be your cheat sheet. And also, you never pay for the movie tickets. You always promise and forget your wallet at home. I end up paying for us."

Sunghoon sighed, knowing it was useless trying to argue with the boy. Usually, Jake lectures him and after Sunghoon pouts or teases him, he gives up. But when it comes to math and physics, he never lets him copy off and starts to teach and make him understand. Sunghoon is happy with that, since Jake can teach way better than their old Ms.Crane ever could, but he is not in the mood for learning today. Like, who wants to learn for an hour on a weekend? Unbelievable. So when Jake offered to teach him, he straight up turned down offer because even though he teaches well, he would drag the lesson just to talk more about physics. Sunghoon wouldn't like this amazing noon to go to waste with long physics lessons. So he just stuffed his mouth with ice cream and hoping he would arrive at school tomorrow in time to copy off Jay or Heeseung.

As he looked back at his book and tried to make sense of what a scientist from two centuries before said, the door creaked open and Jake's older sister, (Name), walked in.

Jake's sister was older than them by two years, if we are only counting these two. She is in her senior year at high school, only a few months away from graduation. She is undoubtedly the most popular person in their whole school, being both pretty and intelligent. The perfect student, a prefect, an athlete and every teacher's favourite (Though Jake teases her by calling her a 'Teachers' Pet'). Oh, did he mention the school heartthrob? Every freaking guy in the school, except Sunghoon and his friends, had a crush on her. Sunghoon had practically grown up with her, being Jake's best friend and all. She is almost like an older sister to all of Jake's friends. She is known as their Friend Group's Special Guest. She pops up time to time. At this point, she might as well as be considered as a part of their group.

(Name) sat down beside them and, much to Jake's dismay, attacked their huge bowl of ice cream. As she picked up a spoonful of ice cream, she asked,"Too much homework?"

Jake put his hands behind his head in frustration and nodded."Too much homework."

Sunghoon saw a perfect opportunity to annoy Jake and grinned. He whined,"Noona, Jake isn't letting me copy off him."

(Name) chuckled while Jake rolled his eyes and shot him an annoyed look. She playfully shook her head and said,"Jake, why aren't you letting Sunghoon copy off you? It's not like he always does this. One time won't hurt."

Jake scowled."Noona, you don't know, this guy copies off me whenever he comes over, and by that I mean every weekend. He doesn't want to "waste" his precious weekend solving math. And it's not like I never let him copy off me. I just don't let him copy math and physics. And I offered to teach him, but he said that I take too much time to teach someone, and he would rather do anything else than spend his weekend noon listening to me ramble about math and physics." Jake shot Sunghoon a scornful look.

(Name) burst out laughing and threw her head back. She looked at Sunghoon and raise an eyebrow. She teased him with an amused tone,"Is that so, Sunghoon?'

Sunghoon blushed slightly and nodded. He sassily replied,"Well, who wants tpo waster their weekend listening to an hour long math and physics lecture?"

(Name) chuckled and nodded."Hmmm, you do have a point there, Sunghoon. But I have an idea. How about  instead of Jake lecturing you for an hour, I help you with your homework?'

Sunghoon clapped in excitement and nodded, while Jake protested,"Wait, why him? Your my sister, you're supposed to help me with my homework, not his."

(Name) rolled her eyes and said,"Because I know you already can do your homework, you nerd. Plus, I came here to tell you that Mum told you to get groceries."

Jake's mouth widened."Why me? It's your turn!"

(Name) smirked."Oh, I told her that I have an assignment due and I'll do with you guys, so Mum told me to tell you to get groceries, since you're not busy. And I'm pretty sure I can keep Sunghoon company. Right, Sunghoon?"

She tilted her head and winked at him while Jake was sulking, and a smirk formed on Sunghoon's face. This was their secret gesture, which meant it's time to tease and taunt Jake. It wasn't officially said between them; but whenever they teased Jake, she would tilt her head and wink at him. Sunghoon would also reply with a smirk of his own.

Sunghoon kept the smrik and said,"Oh, it's totally okay. I'm sure I'll survive an hour or so without you. Plus, you could also take a small walk outside in the beautiful sunlight."

Jake groaned in frustration and stood up. He glared at them and whined,"It's not fair!'

The two burst out laughing. As Jake gave them an annoyed look and was leaving the room, (Name) called out,"At least you won't have to worry about homework for a while!"

A curse word was heard as the boy slammed the door and left the room. They both burst into laughter again. (Name) clutched her stomach and almost fell over with her chair. Sunghoon threw his head back and banged on the table with his hand. They had, again, succeeded in teasing Jake and making him curse. Making him curse was always a big accomplishment, since the boy was mostly against cursing.

They somehow pulled themselves together and caught their breathes. (Name) looked up at Sunghoon with a smile and asked,"Another success?'

Sunghoon smiled back at her and nodded."Another success."

She sat up straight and looked at empty bowl of ice cream. A groan escaped her lips."That bastard ate the ice cream while we were busy annoying him. Guess he got his revenge some way." With that, she looked at him and gave a pouty look. She said,"Sunghoon, would you please get more ice cream from the fridge, please?'

Sungoon smiled and shook his head."Nope. Not happening. Jake also made me get the ice cream."

(Name) gave him one of her best puppy eyes and whined,"Please, Sunghoon. Won't you do a small favour for your dear noona?"

Sunghoon laughed at her antics and protested some more. But he gave up after a few minutes and went downstairs to get some more ice cream. As he came back, she pulled the bowl out of his hands and grabbed a spoonful of ice cream. Sunghoon sat back down next to her, she offered him his ice cream and he gladly accepted it.

(Name) sat up straight in her chair and said,"So you were having problems with your math and physics homework, right?'

Sunghoon nodded, and she flashed him a smile."How about I help you with your homework? I promise I won't lecture you for an hour like Jake. How does that sound?'

He smiled and replied,"Offer accepted."

(Name) smiled and he showed her the homework. As she started explaining to him, he couldn't help a smile growing on his face. She had always been like this, helping him with his homework. She explained way better than anyone he knew. Sometimes he wondered how a person could be this perfect. She was perfect from everyway; starting from looks to intelligence to personality. He always felt comfortable around her. She always put people at ease. Though she wasn't really an extrovert, she just had a natural way of talking to people. She never made anyone feel uncomfortable in her presence, and everyone loved her. She would always help the friend group out with homeworks and assignments; and as a Junior year student, Sunghoon really appreciated that.

As the sunlight fell on her face while she explained to him, he couldn't help noticing her beauty. She had a unique beauty. Her features might not have been the uncommon, but somehow her beauty seemed ethereal. Currently, it seemed as if the sunlight was showering her with affection; and it just enhanced her beauty even more. Sunghoon's heart fluttered, and his heartbeat fastened. His mind went into a frenzy as he recognized this feeling. The feeling of falling in love might sound like an exaggeration, but he knew it as what it was. The same feeling he felt in middle school towards that one girl who rejected him on the school rooftop.

Sunghoon wondered about their friendship. He had known her since the day four year old him fell down on the playground, and a four year old Jake and a six year old (Name) came rushing to help him up. From then, they'd been inseperable. It didn't matter that she was older than both of them, his bond with them was stronger than he had with any of his other friends. She was the reason he never got more than a week's detention for skipping class. She always covered for all of them. Even after becoming a prefect, she never reported them for skipping classes. Favoritism? Maybe. But she was all about supporting harmless fun. That's one of the many reasons everyone at school loved her.

She and Jake were the ones who took care of his grandma while she was sick. She was the reason he passed his middle school finals while he was seriously sick and in bed. She and all his friends stayed up all night, watching over him in turns. She was the eldest and in high school, so she helped them study for the finals at daytime. She was the one who ran out at 2 A.M, all alone, to get emergency medicines for him while his condition got worse. She had always been there for him, along with all his friends. They were his life. He didn't know what he'd do without them. They are a part of him.

(Name) tapped his shoulder, and Sunghoon snapped out of his trance. She had been calling him for some time now. He scratched the back of his head and flashed her an embarrassed smile, gesturing for her to continue.

As time went on with her helping him with his homework, he found himself getting butterflies time to time. He tried to fight the feeling, but he just couldn't. Eventually, they finished the homework and as they kickbacked on Jake's bed to watch a movie, Jake came back and joined them. Sunghoon felt bad, thinking what Jake would say if he found out his best friend had started developing a crush on his sister. Not something positive, Sunghoon thought. But as the afternoon and evening went on with them watching the movie, he just couldn't help feeling guilty as his feelings didn't seem to go away at all. Rather, they seemed to grow. When he left their house, he turned to them and gave those two a hug, like he had always done before. But hugging (Name) made him flustered, which never happened before. Thankfully, neither Jake nor (Name) noticed his behavior, or he would be even more embarrassed.

The next two weeks at school, he tried to avoid (Name) as much as possible. But that proved to be hard, as she was almost always hanging out with them at lunch and recess. He even stopped going over at Jake's for the weekend, giving the excuse that he had chores to do at home. Jake was visibly bummed out, but it didn't seem like he suspected that Sunghoon was lying. But all his efforts went in vain, as he couldn't avoid her much. He would have to see her everyday at lunch. He couldn't stop hanging out with his friends, or they would've suspected that something was up. Still, he tried to talk to (Name) as ew times as possible. But he just couldn't help noticing everything about her. How she smiled, how she threw her head back while laughing, how her lips automatically formed a small pout when she was surprised, how her lips parted when she was zoning out. Every small thing. His feelings for her only continued to grow.

And his behavior didn't go unnoticed by his friends too, even though he tried his best to act normal around them. They had known him enough to know that something was up. Every sing le one of them asked what was wrong. Jake and Jay looked really worried for him. Ni-Ki Heeseung even cornered him one day at class.

Heeseung walked up to his desk and leaned against it. He crossed his arms as he looked at the younger. He asked,"What's wrong, Sunghoon? You've been acting really weird these days. Everyone's worried about you. Jake even told me that you didn't go over at his last two weekends, which is really unusual for you."

Sunghoon felt guilty. Of course everyone would be worried for him. But that thought had flown over his head. As he realized that he was making everyone worried for him, he felt really mad at himself. He had been a dumbass by not realizing it before.

He didn't want to worry them even further, so he assured Heeseung that he was okay. But the boy didn't look convinced. He kept shaking his head and asking what was wrong. At last, Sunghoon gave up. He sighed. "I'll tell you, okay? But please don't tell the others. At least, not for now."

Heeseung leaned in closer as Sunghoon started explaining. He looked away and said,"I...How do I say this....Okay...The thing is, I have a crush on (Name)."

Heeseung's eyes widened. (Name) was their childhood friend. She had been a part of their friend group since always. Even though she couldn't always be with them, since she was two grades above them, it didn't matter. She always hung out with them at weekends. And when they finally came to high school, their friend group was complete again. But he never imagined Sunghoon having a crush on (Name). He was under the impression that they were like siblings, but it seems like his thought was wrong.

Sunghoon didn't give him a chance to speak and continued to speak."And I've been trying to avoid her, that's why I don't talk as much as I did before when we are with her; which is almost always. I didn't go over at theirs just to avoid her. I don't want to let my feelings for her grow. She probably sees me as a younger brother, and how could I have a crush on her? I just can't face her."

Heeseung sighed. He stayed quiet for a while, before he started speaking."Sunghoon, you do realize that's not gonna work, right? You'll have to tell her sooner or later."

Sunghoon nodded grimly, and Heeseung said,"You need to tell her. Bottling up your emotions isn't gonna work. Even if she sees you as a brother, she won't be mad. I know her. She's not the type to be mad over something like that."

Sunghoon sighed and said,"But I'm scared. Just because she won't be mad, what is the chance she won't be upset? And even if she wants to be my friend even after that, who's to say our relationship will stay the same after that? It might just break apart."

Heeseung nodded. He agreed,"Yes, that might happen. There's no guarantee for that. But you won't know if you don't confess. And who knows, she migt even agree to go on a date with you.

Sunghoon mumbled,"Might."

Heeseung nodded."Might. Yes. But that's better than nothing."

Sunghoon sighed and looked at the older."Sorry, Hyung, I just can't. I hope you don't mind."

Heeseung sighed and nodded."I don't mind. But don't avoid her or us anymore, okay?'

Sunghoon smiled and nodded."Okay,"he said.

Heeseung smiled and patted the boy on the head before going back to his own seat.

Sunghoon gave his words a thought that night and decided not to confess. But he wouldn't avoid her anymore. So he went to Jake's house the next weekend, as he couldn't use the same excuse over and over. As he sat down with him, discussing what they could do (Thankfully there wasn't any homework that day), (Name) entered the room.

Sunghoon tried to keep his expression normal as she chose to sit down right next to him on the bed. She was looking even more beautiful in her eyes, if that was even possible. He thought of saying something to look normal, but (Name) broke the silence first.

"Jake, you left all the dishes at the sink. Mum's not very pleased."

Jake jumped."Oh my gosh, I totally forgot to do the dishes! Is she angry?"

(Name) shook her head and replied,"Not angry, but not very happy either. I suggest you go down and do the dishes right now before her mood gets worse."

Jake nodded and ran out of the room. She chuckled at his reaction and looked at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was watching this exchange between the two siblings in complete silence with a smile on his face. As he noticed (Name) looking at him, he flashed her a grin. He asked,"Movie night again today? I'll stay over the night."

(Name) nodded, but their was something off with her expression. Sunghoon felt a bit worried when he saw her. But she started talking before he could speak."Yup. Movie night. Horror movie night. I was also planning on taking you both to McDonalds."

Sunghoon grinned, but his grin faded as he saw her expression. He furrowed his brows and asked in a worried tone,"Are you okay?"

(Name) nodded, and he couldn't help feeling even more worried. This type of unenthusisastic reply wasn't usual for her. He asked again,"You sure? You don't seem like your usual self today."

She sighed and rolled over on her stomach. She put her wrists on the bed and propelled her face up with her hands. She looked up at him with a slightly pouty expression and asked him something that completely caught him off guard.

"Are you mad at me, Sunghoon?'

Sunghoon's eyes widened, and he quickly put his hands up in protest."No! Not at all! Why would I be mad at you?"

(Name) sighed again, and the pout on her face just got bigger. She said,"Then why have you been ignoring me for the past two weeks? You don't talk to me like you used to do. It's almost as if you don't want to see me anymore. Did I do something wrong?"

Sunghoon wanted slap himself. He had completely forgotten about how she would feel when he was trying his best to avoid her and not catch more feelings. And she was thinking that she did something wrong and he was mad at her. He felt so angry at himself and felt guilty for making her feel that way. He sighed."Noona, I'm not mad at you. I'm just feeling a little off these days. You know, school and stuff."

(Name) pouted even more."But you talk to everyone else like usual. You didn't even come over the past two weekends. Sunghoon, can you tell me what's wrong?"

He sighed and said,"Noona, I'm sorry, but it's complicated. I'm not mad at you or ignoring you. I'm just in a kind of complicated situation, that's it.'

(Name) looked at him with her brows furrowed."Tell me what's bothering you then. I want to hear about this complicated situation of yours. I might be able to help."

Sunghoon shook his head. He was sure she would be mad at him after hearing what his complicated situation was. It might even not only ruin their friendship, but also his and Jake's. And she probably thinks of him as a younger brother. How could he confess to her?

She saw him shake his head, and her frown deepened. She asked,"Sunghoon, since when do we keep secrets from each other? I thought we were friends. I thought we always shared everything. I know all your secrets, and you know all of mine. You even told me when you tried smoking for the first time and regretted it. Do you not trust me anymore?"

That sad look on her face broke Sunghoon. This was it. He couldn't hide it from her anymore. It might be the end of everything, but he had to tell her. He thought of Heeseung's words, and decided to shoot his shot. It's now or never. He sighed and said,"Okay, Noona, I'll tell you.' It felt weird to call her Noona, which was a first. Even though he was feeling nervous and his mind was screaming at him to not tell her or lie, he continued."You'll probably get mad at me, and I'll understand if you do. But just please listen to me."

(Name) listened to him carefully as a small smile grew on her face, replacing the pout. Sunghoon took a deep breath and said,"N-Noona, I-I like you. Not in a platonic or siblings way, I like you more than that. I want us to be more than just friends. I tried to fight the feeling, but it just wouldn't go away. So I avoided you. I avoided you in every way I can; so that my feelings won't grow. But it didn't help. My feelings continued to grow. You were just too perfect. I'm sorry, and I know this might even ruin my friendship with you and Jake, but I just can't help it. I'm sorry."

Sunghoon was surprised at how organized his words were, since he always had problems expressing his feelings through words. (Name) must've noticed this too, since she looked a bit suprised. He closed his eyes shut and prepared himself for the blow that was about to come.

But that never came. As he opened his eyes, he found her looking up at him with a wide smile. That helped him calm down. It always did. She suddenly laughed softly, and he felt a pink blush creeping up his cheeks. She playfully shook her head and said,"That was it? I was expecting you found out about my obsession with knives and got scared."

Sunghoon's eyes widened. He exclaimed,"Obsession with knives?!"

(Name) smiled, embarrassed."My only secret that I never told you, considering you weren't a big fan of knife handling."

Sunghoon shook his head in disbelief, and she chuckled. Her face was a bit red now, and it made her look really cute. He hadn't seen her blush too many times, but it aways made him smile.

(Name) started fidgeting with her fingers in a nervous manner and said with a smile,"And aboutr what you just said...I'm not mad at you. Not at all. It's not gonna ruin our friendship. I feel like it's kind of adorable how you have a crush on me. And...I might also feel the same."

Sunghoon's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He could feel his cheeks burning. He tried to say something, but it came out in stutters."Y-you a-also like m-me?"

(Name) nodded with a small blush. She laughed softly."I thought you saw me as an older sister, so I also didn't say anything. I was kinda internally beating myself up for feeling this way towards you."

Sunghoon also laughed."Really? I was also bashing myself internally."

She nodded with a smile."Mmmhm. Really."

Sunghoon couldn't help the smile on his face growing as he tried to speak, but she spoke before him. She flashed him a smile and said,"Ice cream date tomorrow evening?"

Sunghoon gave her a boyish grin and nodded."Ice cream date tomorrow evening."

(Name) smiled and leaned in close to him. As she saw his eyes widen and his face getting redder, but no signs of protest, she finally kissed him on the lips. Sunghoon kissed back, feeling really embarrassed and happy at the same time. She liked him back and they were going out!

As he wrapped his arms around her and she pulled him closer, the door burst open and a happy Jake entered."Guys, I've finished the dishes! Let's-"

He froze in his tracks as he saw the two of them."What the actual f-"

They had also frozen, but as soon as (Name) recovered from the initial shock, she threw a pillow at his way, not letting him finished his sentence. Sunghoon felt his cheeks grow even hotter, to the point they were burning. Jake yelled,"Ahh why would you throw the pillow at me?! And what are you guys doin-"

Another pillow hit his face, this time thrown by Sunghoon.

Sunghoon dived his face in (Name)'s neck in embarrassment from being caught by his best friend while kissing his older sister. She pulled him closer and yelled at her brother,"Can't you knock?"

Jake yelled back,"Why would I? Since when did we knocked while one of us wasn't alone in the room? And stop throwing these damn pillows at my face!"

They both burst out laughing and (Name) playfully rolled her eyes."I guess you have a point."

Jake pointed at Sunghoon and asked,"And what on earth are you guys doing?"

Sunghoon hid his face even more in her neck in embarrassment while she stroked his hair. She glared at her brother and said,"Don't you have eyes? And you're embarrassing Sunghoon. Look how red his face is."

Sunghoon whined in protest. Jake rolled his eyes and sat down next to them. He shook his head in disbelief."Since when this has been going on? How come I didn't know my best friend was in love with my sister?"

(Name) curled her lips and replied,"Since today, And it will go on."

Jake pulled Sunghoon from his hididng place and shook him with every word he said."Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me. You. Bastard."

Sunghoon felt a little dizzy from all the shaking and pushed the boy away. He scratched his neck in embarrassment and said,"I thought you'd be mad...so...'

Jake shook his head in exasperation. He said," Mad? Oh boy, I'm mad at you. But not for falling for and kissing my sister. For not telling me you bastard! I am your best friend and you didn't tell me that you have a crush on my sister!"

They both burst out laughing as Jake stared at them in disbelief. He was still pretending to be mad, but as the corners of his mouth twitched, they saw a small smile was slowly forming on his face. He still said in a angry tone,"You'll pay for the movie tickets the whole year, Sunghoon. That's what you get for not telling me."

Sunghoon smiled and nodded. This was a way better price than he thought he would have to pay. He could deal with that. Plus, he was sure Jake would go back to paying after a month or two. So no worries.

Suddenly, another thought crossed Jake's mind. He grabbed a pillow and started hitting them with with it. He yelled,"And this is for throwing pillows at me!"

Sunghoon laughed as (Name) also grabbed a pillow and attacked her brother. As their fight went on, he also grabbed a pillow and joined them. All of them ended up with torn pillows after the fight, with cotton flying all over the room. Jake and (Name) looked at each other with wide eyes, and all three of them burst out laughing. As (Name) blew away a few cottons from Sunghoon's hair, he felt as if he had never been more happy and content. He knew from that moment, with his friends and possibly future girlfriend, he wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again.

And when they started dating from the next day, nobody was happier than Jake and Heeseung. Heeseung boosted around in the friend group that he already knew about Sunghoon's crush on (Name). Knowing that, Jake only got more pissed and demanded two whole years of movie ticket payment. Now Sunghoon knew that he would have to pay the for tickets at least for the next six months. He was seriously worried for himself now. It is the only problem he's currently dealing with now. And since Jake doesn't have to pay, he insists on taking Sunghoon and (Name) to watch a movie every weekend. Sunghoon had hoped that (Name) would tell her brother off, but she seemed to be enjoying the free movies every weekend. At least she insisted on paying for every date they went on, or he would've gone bankrupt by now. He can only hope now that he would still have enough money to buy his friends and girlfriend birthday and Christmas presents.

[bittersweetcreep]

Conception Part 2 Red Luna!Darling x Yandere!Damia

Part 1 here Part 3 here

Summery: Ever since that night, Luna has been feeling under the weather with symptoms such as nausea, mood swings, vomiting , etc. She has no idea what's happening to her, but Damian seems to know while Batman has his suspicions.

WARNING Unaware Pregnancy, Morning Sickness and the mentioning of other Pregnancy Symptoms, Multiple Pregnancy Testing,

Arthur's Note: Things to know before reading Luna is a young adult who wasn't educated on pregnancy, and a reminder that she is a mute who communicates through sign language and morse code. I'll use °this° when she's "speaking.

Waking up with a jolt, Luna ripped the blanket sheet off of her racing towards the restroom she dropped to her knees and began to vomit. The (h/c) has learned to leave the toilet seat up at this point as throwing up has become a common current lately.

But even so, she noticed other symptoms before she started vomiting. The occasional dizziness and the unending feeling of nausea, even when she started throwing up, she still felt those symptoms. But she was also experiencing other more weirder symptoms like her sore breast beginning to swell up, her cravings taking a weird turn (like the time she ate a pink frosted donut with sprinkles and pickle toppings) then they're the sudden crying spells that come with no reason and weirder she's missed her period.

Damain has also been acting weird, too. As Robin, he's been making sure no one lays a finger on her. But if they did, he would go apeshit with the intent to kill the moron who dared to touch her. Both Batman and Nightwing would need to restrain him before he sends the villain to the morgue instead of prison (after going to the hospital).

But out of the suit, Damian is even weirder. Constantly touching or rubbing her stomach, accompanying Luna anywhere she goes like her visits to the park or going on a cravings run, but following her to the bathroom and sitting outside the door is a little much.

He's also been persistently trying to persuade Luna to come live in the Wayne mansion, which wasn't new, but he's becoming pushy. All this behavior started when he handed her a white stick and told her to pee on it (she made a face). Coming back out of the bathroom, she handed the stick back to him. Before handing over the stick, Luna saw there were two red lines that weren't there before.

When Damian saw those red lines, he immediately hoisted the (h/c) up, spinning her around while wearing the happiest expression Luna had ever seen. She didn't know why he would be so happy by a stick she peed on, but seeing him this happy, she was grateful for the stick.

All of this didn't go unnoticed by the Dark Knight, who had suspicions he needed to confirm.

Luna was in the middle of getting out of her suit. She was planning on taking a relaxing bath after the portral she had, but an incoming text from Batman halted her plans. Picking up her phone, she read the text.

Batman: Put on civilian clothes, I'm picking you up. I'm right outside.

'So much for my bath, I was even planning on using that spa day package too.' Taking the rest of her suit off Luna quickly threw on some clothes then made her way out of her living quarters an up the elevator. Opening the doors of her 'home' she was greeted with the sight of Batman's batmobile.

The mobile's hood opened to reveal Batman in the driver's seat. "Get in." Doing as she's told she placed herself in the back seat. At the sound of the clicking of her seat belt The Dark Knight spoke "You should get some rest, It'll be a long drive." then he drove off. Deciding to listen to his words Luna closed her eyes, it took a couple of minutes but she managed to finally drift off.

Feeling her cheek being excessively poked at stirred awake the (h/c) from her slumber. (E/c) eyes opened up to be met with blue ones that belong to a smiling ravenette. "Rise and shine sleeping beauty!" Sitting up straight, Luna gave a look at her surroundings °Dick, is this the batcave you've been talking about?°

A deep voice that clearly didn't belong to Dick spoke "You've told her about the batcave?" All Dick did was gave the bat a carefree smile who just sighed in return. During their little exchange Luna took the liberty of getting out the batmobile.

All heads turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat. They turned to see a man in his thirties wearing a fancy suit with an areceding hairline. The little hair he has is gray, including the hair in his mustache, and in his hand is a familiar pair of white sticks. "If you'll pardon the intrusion, I've gotten what you've asked for, sir Batman.'

"Thank you, Alfred." Walking up to the gentleman, Luna greeted the man. °Greetings sir Alfred, I've heard great stories about you.° with a soft smile, Alfred replied, "Miss Luna, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've too been told stories about you, and please call me Alfred." Noticing the look Batman gave him, Alfred took that as his queue to hand over the two pregnancy tests to Luna. "Miss Luna, apologies for the vulgar words I'm about to say, but may you please pee on this stick?"

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Luna took the sticks from his hand °Is there a bathroom somewhere I can use?° with a nod of his head, Alfred guided the (h/c) to the restroom.

When coming out of the bathroom, Luna handed both pregnancy tests over to Alfred. And just like the stick Damian gave her, two lines appeared when there wasn't any. But unlike Damian, who was over the moon, their reaction was different.

Alfred was as calm as ever while Luna couldn't read Batman's stoic expression, and Dick was just staring at her stomach. Grayson was the first to speak. "Definitely, Damian's." There was no doubt in his voice when he said this. The air around them was filled with a sense of dread that affected Luna. Feeling anxious, she began to sign °Is something wrong with me?°

Alfred softened his expression to ease the girl's worries. "You're pregnant, Miss Luna, there's nothing to be afraid of." 'Pregnant?' Luna's never heard of this "pregnant" word before or what 'being pregnant' could mean. The scientist barely taught her what a period was when she first got it, only teaching her the bare minimum, but this pregnant thing is something they never even mentioned.

She began to wonder if it's a good thing or a bad thing to become pregnant. It wasn't long before Luna started spiraling, rapidly signing in quick session. Dick was the one to snap Luna out of her spiraling thoughts by grabbing her shoulders gentle while repeatedly calling her name. "Luna, Luna! it's ok! Being pregnant just means you're having a baby."

Her whole body froze °I'm having a baby?° "Yes, there's a baby growing in your stomach right now." Looking down to her stomach, Luna placed a gentle hand on it. At first, her expression was one of curiosity, but it quickly shifted to one of a loving mother. Dick couldn't stop the smile crawling up his face. "I'm guessing you want to keep them, huh?" Looking up to the ravenette with a hopeful look Dick knew the decision had been made. Chuckling Dick couldn't help but comment. "I guess your maternal instincts came sooner than expected, huh?"

Stepping towards the duo, the dark knight spoke "I have no doubt your baby will be skilled and powerful, but because Damian's the father Talia will most likely make you and your baby apart of the League of Assassins. We can't have that, we don't know what she'll have planned for you or them so for the time being we'll keep you in hiding until I can think of a permanent solution to keep Talia away from you and your baby."

Luna understood where he's coming from, but if she's honest, she really wanted Talia's help with the pregnancy as the woman had Damian (or at least she assumed). And speaking of Damian, she also wanted him by her side as he's her baby's father (with everyone implying it and assuming having sex with Damian is the reason she's pregnant), but she trusts Batman's intuition.

The (h/c) decided to inform the three men of something they should know °The scientist put metahuman traits in my fetus but to their disappointment i didn't get all of them, but they're still inside of me. More specifically, my dna.° Her unspoken sentence was hanging in the air that implied her baby could inherit metahuman traits that Luna doesn't have, and they don't know how powerful those metahuman traits could be.

The bat didn't waste time in asking, "Do you know what traits you didn't get?" Luna shook her head but raised her hands up to sign °I have my dna sheet in my room. It has all the dna traits they put into my fetus, including metahuman traits.° Luna was taken aback when Batman reached up to pull off his mask, and under the mask was a ravenette somewhere in his twenties with an undercut-like hairstyle and blue eyes.

"I think it's time to tell you my identity. My name is Bruce Wayne." Tilting her head in confusion, 'Wayne? Why does that name ring a bell? ....wait a minute.' (E/c) eyes widen in shock. °Damian's dad?!° Bruce chuckled to himself "Yes Damian's dad. Now here's the plan, Dick you take Luna back home to get packed, and don't forget to grab that dna sheet. Then go straight to my private airport, I'll-" Before Bruce can continue, he was interrupted by said ravenette. "Hey! Luna can't just leave Gotham by herself." Bruce reassured his son "And that's why you'll be leaving with her, she'll need someone to protect her in the off chance Talia finds her but Luna will also need all the support she can get. Unless you don't want to leave Gotham then Alfred can go with her instead." With a shout Dick vigorously replied. "No! I'm going with her. What kind of friend or uncle would I be if I didn't? But I'm more concerned about Damian, I doubt he'll let Luna leave without putting up a fight." With his familiar Batman demeanor, Bruce reassured his son. "Leave that to me and Alfred, so you two hurry. We can't waste any more time."

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Epilogue - can be read as a standalone?!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

A few months later-

For someone that prefers their skin to be flawless and smooth, Goo is awfully fascinated with yours. His hands constantly wander, tracing over your blemishes and imperfections.

"Hmm, I like your skin," his fingers run along your ribcage, taking his time, as if he's counting each one.

"What, to wear?" you ask him one evening, after he spent far too long pouring over your body.

He looks up from caressing a freckle on your hip and chuckles. 

Well, that's comforting.

“Are you still mad, Princess?”

Damn this guy. He knows to pick his battles with you at your weakest. When you’ve spent the whole day in bed together, him drawing constant moans and whimpers from your lips until your mind is completely blank and your whole body is quivering.

Well. What does he think? 

To be honest, after the shine of your reunion and your kiss had worn off, you had been filled with rage. Honestly, you never would have thought you would see a delinquent such as Goo Kim cower because of you.

It took weeks, months of work. Of peaks and troughs to get over the way he treated you. How he heartlessly ghosted you and tossed you aside and then reappeared in your life again as if that was fine.

Goo learnt the consequences to his actions, hated every moment, and had some eye opening lessons. 

So no. You’re not mad anymore. Although-

“What if I still am?”

Your boyfriend grins at you with an insatiable hunger, ready to make you black out from pleasure.

.

.

Late nights are usual for Goo. He often comes home to find you fast asleep on his side of the bed, burying yourself in his scent like a safety blanket.

Tonight, while he undresses, the moonlight peeps through the gap in the curtains and illuminates your face.

Even seeing you lifts his spirits.

Especially tonight, as unfortunately, it also highlights your drool. 

He laughs to himself, swiping it away with his hand, you stirring in your sleep when he does so.

A little gesture, that is really quite ordinary and meaningless but so desperately intimate is how the realisation comes crashing down on Goo that he is deeply in love with you.

That even as he felt his feelings blossoming, he never really managed to put the words to it until now.

How, before you, he never thought he would be someone that could fall in love but now there is no denying it. 

Love is the only way to describe how he feels about you.

.

.

And another few months later-

Goo waits outside a small cafe, leaning against his eye-wateringly expensive car and fiddling with his phone.

A handsome blonde in a designer suit catches the eyes of many but he ignores them all, fixated on the mobile game. 

And actually, a very happily taken man.

Knowing these pretenders would never be able to keep up with him. Not like you do.

He senses your presence before anything else, and looks up to catch you waving goodbye to your college study group.

As soon as you’re alone, you slump. The weariness of the day taking its toll on you; the demanding pace of your prestigious university course maybe being a bit too much.

Goo waits for you to spot him and it doesn’t take long. As soon your eyes meet, your face transforms, lighting up and your smile is brighter than the sun.

“Let’s go home hmm, Princess?”

.

.

“And this is the partner that I don’t hate,” Goo smirks, gesturing at you and happy with his backhanded words.

Gun doesn’t say anything, just studies you from the other side of the counter as you bag up their purchases.

“Hi,” you say, then look to your boyfriend for an introduction.

He flaps his hand in your direction, “He’s a nobody. Don’t worry about it.”

“Gun Park,” the other man says, letting the insult slide off him and extending his hand out.

This Gun is intense, matching that of your boyfriend, just in very different ways. But luckily, you may be the best person on earth to handle Goo Kim. You’re sure you can handle Gun Park too.

Not flinching from his black eyes, you hold his gaze as you reach out and shake his hand. Firm grip, brief, professional.

When they both leave, Goo blows you a kiss and Gun gives you a small nod.

You tilt your head at the dark haired man. Something about that nod feels like him approving of you.

.

.

And a lot more than a few months later-

Goo staggers in, reeking of alcohol, loud and headache-inducing.

“This is your problem now.” Gun dumps him in the doorway and leaves without a second glance.

“Huh?” Goo looks around, glasses askew, trying to place exactly where the fuck he is.

“Good night?” You ask, diverting his attention to you as a far off voice in his brain tells him this is his home.

“Y/N!” He slurs, suddenly hit with a burst of energy and throwing himself in your direction. Boy is he pleased to see you. Although, now he thinks about it, when is he not. 

Goo grins, lopsided and with heart eyes, “I want to see you everyday.”

You must be cursed. Because even though Goo is an absolute nuisance when he's drunk, even more so than usual if that is possible; at the same time, his sappiness comes out in droves and you can never find it in yourself to be mad at him.

“You do,” you reply, handing over a glass of water.

“No. I want to spend all my time with you.” He frowns down at the drink that has appeared out of nowhere in his hand.

“You do.”

“No,” he pouts, on the verge of a tantrum because why on earth are you being so dense and not understanding him right now.

“I’m not dense, you’re just drunk!” 

Oops. Goo giggles to himself when he sees you glaring at him. He was supposed to just think that.

“Princess,” he says, puppy dog eyes appearing after you force him to down the water in one go, “You don’t get it.”

“Tell me then.”

“I want to marry you.”

 “Is that it?” You pluck the glass from his hand and replace it with another full one.

“Yes!” Goo is this close to stomping his feet. Can you please stop handing him water. That is not a reasonable response to him pouring his heart out over here.

“You tell me that all the time too.”

A frown. “I do?”

“Yes. But babe…”

“Hmm?” 

“We’re already married.”

Goo looks impossibly confused until he glances down, and spots a shiny band around his ring finger. “Oh!”

He gives you another grin and your heart melts.

.

.

Goo used to think you would be an idiot marrying his high school sweetheart but turns out, he’s one and the same.