#--Did at any point in your brain you think 'hey this is really really insensitive to put in the SONIC THE HEDGEHOG comics'?

[julie-su]

I thought Lienda was going to have this dramatic arc with that girl but she's just kind of doing nothing. You promised me lesbians and drama. Kragek isn't even a slut

They should put a massive disclaimer over my head that says 'PRE-#160 ECHIDNA CONTENT IS LOOSELY USED AS FLAVOURING FOR THE GOOD STUFF'

--ALSO I AM SO SO SO SORRY if any of you are getting into the echidna lore because of me. Please know that everything I put out about them is cherry-picked and built upon and 70% fanon springboarding off of it

[misty-wisp]

I ront know your oc but your new art popped up on the p5 tag and scratches my brain right, it might be the composition but its giving me "She is gonna make the 3rd semester even more psycological horror :)" energy, loving her hair color too

Also, about your Kasumi's post, i don't deny that Atlus tropped the ball about Sumire's arc at some point but I think Kasumi was a good sister, but also flawed. She probably had more pressure on her shoulders for being the 'oldest one' due japanese's standards, despite being just some minutes older than Sumi, so she probably also wore a mask of perfection to trick society she was what they wanted. Plus instead of just being insensitive, i read her last moment more as her being one of those people coping with humor 'my sister is sad im gonna say a joke to cheer her up :)' and it went BAD. And when Sumi belives to be her sister, she is not a 1:1 copy of the real Kasumi, she is Sumire's own cognition of Kasumi.

Tldr: i think both twins loved eachother deeply but there was a huge lack of comunication a bit due the fact they were 14 at the time and a bit due japanese norms. Also sorry for the ramble 😅

hey!!! first off i am so sorry for answering so late, i've been going through it a little as of recent😭

secondly EEEE TYYYYY i'm really normal about my oc and i can and will talk about her a LOT!!! if you're interested it should be really easy to get a good grasp on her character if you check out her ref and my many posts abt her chronicled in this tag

okok onto the sumi thing--gonna put that under the cut bc of royal spoilers

i think a lot of projection went into my post talking about the sumis tbh bc i have a LOT of issues regarding jealousy and self worth and hoo boy do i project all that onto sumi. so i end up going "grrr everyone better than me is actually awful grrr" as like this weird but natural reaction.

i do think kasumi really did love her sister!! she was just caught up in both fame, praise, and possibly expectations like you suggested. and abt her treating sumire in an insensitive way, while i'm sure she didn't intend anything malicious behind any of her actions, i'd still read what she said as fairly insensitive, albeit unintentionally. she knows sumire's got issues with self worth comparing herself to her but doesn't really try to listen and understand--sumire even points that out.

and while i also think sumire did love her sister, i still stand by my opinion that she should've bore some kind of anger or grudge toward her out of jealousy. and naturally, because she thinks kasumi's so perfect (and out of love), she'd internalize that grudge onto herself just to further her own self loathing. but even with that, i think it's okay if she did harbor that grudge--it only makes sense for you to be mad at someone you constantly compare yourself to, even if you love them with all your heart. it's really something else for her to work through and feel emotions about, bc i really don't think ATLUS let her be emotional enough in third sem.

tl;dr, i'm sure both sisters did love each other very much, one's just unaware of how to handle someone with a crumbling mental health and the other has jealousy issues she internalizes as self-loathing

[hyperfixationspam]

ok im just gonna give a summary of my opinion on the situation re ofmd and historical stede bonnet. not bc i think my opinion matters but just so ppl know and if anybody wants to unfollow they can

basically i think it was a shitty ignorant decision but it was likely made in good faith. im pretty sure what happened was that david jenkins thought "haha wouldnt it be cool if i named some characters after real pirates like a cute little reference" and just... didnt analyze that any further. like this is the guy who said he doesnt care about pirates and refused to look up when pinocchio was written. the producer read one sentence on wikipedia and closed it forever. knowing the shows approach to historical accuracy as a whole, he probably just went with his standard "who cares im not doing research" approach which. sometimes works! and in this case it very much doesnt! like im all for 1700s leather jackets but like maybe when it comes to fucking SLAVERY just think about it a little more before you decide its not relevant to the story so it doesnt matter?

my main concern is HOW DID NO ONE POINT THIS OUT TO HIM. the writers room is like. half poc if im not mistaken. and within the show itself racial issues are handled decently. so why did no one say "hey can we change the characters names?" bc thats literally it thats all it wouldve taken. best case scenario no one else thought to look it up. worst case scenario someone did point it out and got shut down. if something comes out that thats the case, then thats a whole different situation. but for now im leaning towards thinking that this was a snowball of laziness

and listen im very hesitant to declare ANY media "irredeemable" so i find it impossible to put a show where the main issue that the characters have insensitive names due to creator idiocy in that category. and as warranted as the criticism is... some of yall have no idea how to process gray areas. the show can be both progressive and problematic at the same time. bad things can be done with innocent intentions. and that goes for you too "we stan david jenkins he did nothing wrong shut up" crowd!!

but like its not really a fixable mistake bc like. its the characters names. how the fuck do you retcon that. you dont. i mainly think the best course of action is this. to the fandom: STOP FUCKING EQUATING THE CHARACTERS WITH THE HISTORICAL FIGURES. thats it!!! its very easy!!! just fucking separate reality from fiction as much as possible. dont even bring up the historical figures unless its to point out how awful they were. your blorbo isnt a slaveowner? cool stop fucking comparing him to one then

and for the show going forward? really the main thing is that david jenkins needs to apologize. if youre pissed about this, @ him on twitter. preferably politely bc no matter how justified it is pointed insults make ppls brains shut down from criticism. he really needs to understand that he fucked up on this one. i dont think hes a bad dude i think hes just an idiot with good intentions. ofc if he defends his decision or makes some passive aggressive apology this is all out the window. i dont know the dude, i cant say for sure whats up with him. but im leaning towards hanlons razor on this

there are also some little steps for the show to make. mainly straying even more from biography (which considering the way hes talking about it im 100% sure is going to happen to some extent, but the more the better). honestly just dont introduce any more characters with historical names unless theyre completely ~unproblematic~ which. idk if an unproblematic famous pirate actually existed but they can try. idk what was up with anne bonny

so tldr love the show bully david jenkins

[gojology]

Jealousy. (Extra)

You can find Jealousy here: Part One Part Two Part Three 𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | sorry for the inactivity, i’ve been taking a break. regardless, i’m super happy because i finished most of my hw! someone wanted an extra of my fic Jealousy, so that’s what im doing. you may have noticed this isn’t very good, but i haven’t written in a while so bear with me :(  𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo Satoru x Gender Neutral Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1167 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 |  I didn’t exactly proof read this, and it’s rushed, so expect a lot of reusing of words and just overall not amazing writing. Cursing, ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS. 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | After confessing with Gojo Satoru himself, you and him walk on the path that would lead you back to Shoko and Geto, you two take your sweet time though, savoring the sweet, new love.

   Everything in your body was finally settling in. Your frazzled nerves had just begun to go away.    You’re walking back to the picnic, fingers intertwined with Gojo’s. Your pounding heart had subdued. Yet, you still felt fuzzy and warm, you had pinched yourself repeatedly to make sure it wasn’t a dream earlier.     The air smelled like fresh dew on grass, the scent of flowers weakly wafted in the air as well, you were drinking in the beautiful weather, enjoying the calm, quiet between the two of you.     Normally, every confession of love followed suit with cheers of joy, or perhaps a kiss, but strangely, a quiet walk through the park was something you didn’t mind.     Turning your attention towards Gojo, there was a slight curve to his lips. He didn’t smile like that often, it was either a full blown toothy grin, or nothing at all. Wind ruffling his hair, taking longer and longer strides that you couldn’t quite catch up with.     “Hey Daddy Long Legs, I’m not 6′3 you know.” you say, sarcasm and a hint of annoyance relevant in your tone.     “Oops. Sorry.” he looked down at you, stopping in his tracks.     “What? Satoru, we don’t have all the time in the world, come on, Shoko and Geto are probably waiting for us.”     ‘Why’s that matter?” crouching down so he could stare at you eye-to-eye, well, more like eye-to-glasses, you hadn’t seen his eyes too often. But when you did they were a brilliant shade of blue, flecks of different variants of the color sprinkled carelessly around, they were breathtaking. You hoped to see them more, why wouldn’t he show you them? After all, he was your... Boyfriend.     The term felt so weird to say, but so good.    “Didn’t we just start dating?” he said, cocking his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted together.     Snapping out of your daze, you study your shoes. “Well- Yes... But, that’s not the point.” your eyes flickered to the field of flowers dancing in the breeze.     “Honey, that’s entirely the point. We just got together and you’re gonna care about Shoko and Geto? You’re too considerate~” he cooed, pinching and pulling at your cheeks.     “...Is it okay if I call you honey..? Or uh, you know, pet names in general.” he added, you swear you can sense a quivering in his voice, some doubtfulness.     Biting your lip, you turn your full attention towards him, flower field be damned, you were dating the guy now, it was okay to be confident.     “...I actually prefer it.”     It took a moment to register in his probably small brain, but when it did, he beamed at you, giving a full blown smile.     “So I can call you Honey? Sugar? Cuddle Bug? Snuggle Wuffle? Snufflekins? Well I kind of already knew you were gonna say yes, by the way.” he cleared his throat, “because, I’m the strongest of all time, and I can also read minds, I swear.”     You giggle, not even realizing you were smiling at him as well, his face lit up.     “Satoru, It’s okay, just admit you were scared I was gonna say no.” He straightened himself, finally standing up. He put his hand at the back of his neck, still looking down at you.     “I wasn’t sweets, I knew you were gonna say yes, but uh, you know consent and stuff...” trailing off, he kicked at a pebble.     “I don’t think you need consent to call your significant other cute pet names, well, most of the time.” stifling a laugh, you turn to face to the very start of the pathway you and Gojo were walking on.     “Pretty, isn’t it?” he breathed. “Pretty place for a pretty person. I’m happy you told me here. Otherwise, It’d probably be when you’re fighting a curse and on the verge of death.”     “Satoru!-” Did this guy have no shame?     “What? I woulda saved you regardless, sweetheart. How am I gonna date someone that’s dead?” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.     “That’s insensitive!” you snorted, focusing your attention towards the growingly dark sky.    “It’s growing really dark, Satoru. We should head back soon.” you thought aloud, once again weaving your fingers into his hand.      “I didn’t even realize. Spending time with you makes everything fly by.” he flirted, lifting your limp hand up and kissing your skin.      You weren’t quite ready for another kiss in a span of 30 minutes.      Struggling to come up with something cheeky, you gape at him, opening and closing your mouth.     “My significant other’s a fish now? Aw whatever, you’re still cute. Want more kissies, darling?”      He doesn’t give you time to respond, instead diving face first into yours, lips interlocking. Soft, chaste kisses, there’s nothing sexual about it strangely, yet every each one still carried intimacy and love. You melt into his touch, sinking deeper and deeper into his embrace, your knees were just about to give out.      Exhaling sharply out of your nose, you could feel the cool air fanning onto your face, your skin was growing hot and sticky.    Just as you were about to try to take it a step further, he steps out of the kiss, panting heavily, drooling like an idiot.     Your brain isn’t quite working yet, and you peer at him, dumbfounded by the events that had occurred.     The still atmosphere was penetrated by the two of you panting, breathing in deeply. Your heart beating furiously, did that really just happen? Did Gojo Fucking Satoru just kiss you?      “Woah there.” panting, he crouches, looking up at you and catching his breath. “Didn’t know you were that straightforward, not now, not now baby. Didn’t you say we needed to go back to Geto and Shoko anyways?”      Trying not to whine, you clear your throat. “Oh yeah, I forgot about them.”      “Glad to know I have that effect on you.”     “Satoru!- God why did I ever have a crush on you?” slightly annoyed by his remark, you scoff.      “Because I’m handsome and strong and super cool.”      You couldn’t quite deny those claims, but your mouth was zipped shut.      “That’s what I thought.” grinning at you, yet you can only faintly make out his facial features.      “Fuck, Gojo, or uh... Baby, we gotta go! What if Shoko or Geto think we’re kidnapped or something?” Hands once again clasping with his unoccupied one, you sprinted, dragging him along the beaten trail.     “Fuck Shoko and Geto! They know I’ll protect the both of us, nothing scares me sweetheart! Let’s watch the stars together, (Y/N)!” he hollered back at you, taking longer and longer strides to catch up to you.      “Oh FUCK no baby, you are NOT beating me.” giggling, you let go of his hand, you found yourself 100 times lighter. Now sprinting at the speed of light, or at least the fastest you could run, at the entrance of the pathway. Estimating that it would take around 3 minutes of full sprinting to get to the area.      “Last one there is a rotten egg! And you don’t get any of the remaining snacks!” you screamed back at him, but he wasn’t there.     Looking forward, you realize Gojo is now ahead of you by a landslide. Yelling unintelligibly about the tasty remaining snacks in the basket. Atleast, that’s what you assume he’s yelling about, but you were sure he would save some for you.    Today, was a good day.

[whetstonefires]

Thank you for your comment about personality disorder stigma on that empathy vs. mirroring post. As a Probably Allistic who's dx'd Cluster B, it's always something else coming across any of the multiple #actuallyautistic posts out there that can be summarized as: "STOP painting autistic people as remorseless narcissist-psychopaths - maybe it's harder for us to express, but we DO feel our fellow human beings, and we ARE capable of love, unlike those abusive, *truly* empathy-lacking freaks!!" -

- which makes me feel very.... shut the fuck up maybe? Only *I* get to call me a loveless psychopath?? Are you aware that there exist autistic people with personality disorders and/or by-your-definition Evil Psychopath Lack of Empathy, and you've wound up and punted them under the bus as well??? Anyways it's rare for people to speak up on behalf of PD havers, and I really appreciate that you did.

Aw, thank you for the message! This is good to hear. I was pretty nervous about that post add, honestly. Disagreeing with an angry person is always scary! (For me lol.)

And once I'd edited my addition down to the essential points, having learned over time that exhaustive covering of every possible point of ambiguity etc just annoys people and doesn't really aid communication, I felt like I'd probably become so imprecise as to be rudely reductive.

But it seemed important to say! So I'm glad. To hear you found it constructive. 😄✌

Heh yeah I thought about the people in the overlap zone too but I didn't think bringing that up would do anything but sow confusion--like, I wanted to keep it clear that this was a disagreement over categorization systems and being a dick about other people's brains, and not come across as trying to like, subtext, 'hey op i disagree with your experience of autism so much i'm going to hint i think you are in fact a psychopath.' Which I do not. And also it would be none of my business anyway.

But yeah, it's like--it pisses me off. Too. The language around empathy is both inadequate and seriously in flux so it's not that I care whether people use 'the right words'--I'm suspicious of demands to use the 'right' words in order to be allowed to speak--but that sentiment rubs me the wrong way. Especially in the context of autism!

Like, I often say insensitive or clueless things because I can't model other people's mental states well enough or fast enough to figure out how it's going to sound outside my head, or pick up hints I'm 'supposed' to, or because I get so wrapped up in what I'm talking about that I forget to even try, which plays out functionally as self-absorption. Decades of practice and I'm still deeply sub-par at this.

And I've gotten so much shit for it! Both as power plays and because it's caused some real harm and hurt feelings, and those categories don't sort neatly into boxes, either. Sometimes it's both. This is just, a lot of misery associated with my deficits.

(Mostly for me but like, I'm not going to pretend my obnoxiousness is without consequences.)

But you can also see people with perfectly normal base empathy stats be just as bad, when it's someone they don't want to care about, or they're tired, or they're dealing with someone sufficiently different from themselves that their assumptions trip them up. That shit's not magic.

A bunch of times I've seen people with really high empathy stats be, like...everyone knows about the kind of asshole with high empathic perception but low reactivity who uses it for evil. That's a cliche. But you know what's not any less scary and way more volatile? Someone who's got high marks in both kinds and is furiously angry with you for making them feel bad.

Because having a knee-jerk empathetic reaction to someone's hurt when you don't feel sympathetic toward them is really annoying, and can tend to feel like manipulation even when it isn't.

It's very easy for a high-empathy person with power over others to slip into abusing those people in retribution for the pain their pain causes.

I have absolutely been punished for triggering someone's empathy reactions in a way they don't like, just by existing! It sucks! Sometimes these are people with like, strong natural empathy who haven't learned good skills for processing it etc, but sometimes it's the socially adept people who are really sweet and kind and supportive and thoughtful in like 90% of life so therefore you must deserve it, when that doesn't extend to you.

But sometimes they've just burned themselves out on the rest of the world and you're inconvenient or too much or some other disqualifying thing, so you just. Are their exception. The one they get to kick.

An empathetic person who has wronged you can go absolutely feral about making it your fault. Because otherwise they're stuck feeling twice as bad, once reactively and once in guilt.

Theoretically, ideally, this is a control mechanism that keeps people from wronging one another in the first place, that's why we link empathy and morality as much as we do, but it...doesn't necessarily work that way. Sometimes it just works out to a motive for dehumanization.

Because that's the lower-effort route to less mental pain.

...and if you're in the habit of just trusting your natural impulses to ensure you behave decently, you can develop a whole entire toxic coping mechanism down that route before you even notice you're doing anything wrong. Instinct is not a sufficient substitute for self-reflection and principle even when you're naturally blessed with good ones!

So like. My point being. That someone's empathic capacity on any scale is just a tool they have to use, that usually makes it easier and/or more likely for them to achieve pro-social conduct on a regular basis the more they've got to work with, although it does have the capacity to backfire.

It's statistically predictive, to an extent. But it doesn't actually guarantee jack shit about whether a person can or will exercise compassion.

You know?

So I feel like autism and that cluster of personality disorders are in very similar boats with excessive emphasis on...social toolsets as definitional to personhood, rather than factors affecting social cohesion etc. So when I see that kind of side-punching. Feels bad.

[bumblebee-moreno]

Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?��

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

[on-maars]

I’ve never had a home (until you came around)

So I wrote a fic, it’s long so maybe you’ll be more comfortable reading it on ao3

Thank you @cyllaeth for being patient enough to re-read the whole thing (and also for being available 24/7 to freak out over these two)

It’s a quiet day. The station is silent and Buck is spread out on the couch, a book in his hand. A mystery book. Chimney recommended it to him the other day but Buck’s never been a big reader, for as long as he can remember. He finds it too hard, to stay focused and stay still for several hours in a row. He needs action. He needs to move, stay busy and as much as he would love to finish this book so he can share his opinions with his friend, today is just not the day.

He’s been feeling restless, fidgety during the whole day and of course it had to happen during one of his most boring shifts. Not that Buck doesn’t appreciate the silence. He does. It actually feels nice to have some time to rest and relax, for a change. He even managed to take a nap in the beginning of the afternoon but now that his batteries are recharged, he’s desperately waiting for a call.

He sighs and tries to bring his attention back to his book but gives up after a few seconds. He’s been reading the same paragraph for more than twenty minutes and if you’d ask him, he would be incapable of telling you what’s the main plot of the book. He sees the words, he reads them but it’s like his brain can’t process a single thing.

He lets the book fall on the couch and sweeps the room with his eyes. There’s Chimney, seated at the kitchen’s table, still reading the same parenting book, a highlighter in his right hand. Hen, who seems as focused as his friend – if not more – her eyes squint in concentration as she writes some words on her notebook, most likely still revising for her big exam coming up. There’s Bobby quietly busying himself in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the whole team.

And then there’s Eddie. Eddie, sprawled on the other side of the sofa, looking at Buck with an amused expression on his face. Buck raises his eyebrows at him in confusion but his best-friend just shrugs his shoulders and looks away.

“I’m bored.” Buck sighs, defeated.

“Just read your damn book, Buckley.” Chimney says from where he’s seated. “I can hear you wriggling on the couch for the past ten minutes, you’re making me nervous.”

Buck rolls his eyes and throws a pillow at his face before taking his cellphone out of his jean’s pocket. There’s a message from Carla and a big smile breaks in on his face when his eyes fall on a picture of a (more than unstable) Lego house, accompanied by a small text.

“Bucky, I just built a new lego house!! (this is Christopher)”

“Looking good, superman!”

“God I love that kid so much.” Buck says, the words coming out of his mouth of their own accord. This earns him a confused look from Eddie who instantly straightens up when Buck lends him his phone, and it only takes a few seconds for a soft smile to appear on his friend’s face as well.

“He just answered.” Eddie adds, handing him his phone back to him.

“Can you come home this week-end so we can build the fire station together?”

“You got it!”

“You can come over on Sunday if you want.” Eddie offers and Buck only nods, mirroring his smile.

“You know I can’t say no to my favorite Diaz.” He answers.

“You’re spoiling him too much.” Eddie reproaches him while nudging him playfully. And Buck doesn’t feel that restless anymore. He feels good, warm, and tries very hard to think about anything else but the intimacy he’s suddenly sharing with his best-friend, whether it be the way their knees touch, the way Eddie’s hand feels on his wrist, his thumb tracing slow circles on his skin, or the way his own heart pound against his chest, so hard and so fast he feels it might explode.

That moment only lasts a few seconds. A couple of minutes, at most, until they all gathered around the table to share lunch. The atmosphere is calm, serene, but Buck’s head is spinning and he’s afraid. Afraid to look up and catch Eddie’s eyes, afraid to do something that can give him away, afraid to say something which may be deemed inappropriate. Because the truth is, when it comes to his best-friend, he doesn’t know what is appropriate and what isn’t anymore. Their relationship has always been very intimate, sure, but it feels to Buck that it has just reached another milestone.

That’s why he’s not prepared when Eddie says these next few words.

“I asked her out. Ana. She said yes.” He says, and Buck’s mind goes blank.

She said yes. Of course she did – he thinks. Who would say no? Who would say no to his kind, sweet, caring and stupidly hot best-friend? They’d be crazy not to – he wants to say, but once again his words get stuck in his throat and he just fakes a smile instead. Faking smiles to avoid any awkward conversations. He can do that. He’s been doing that for years.

“You did?” Hen asks, his eyebrows raised, seemingly surprised.

“That’s… That’s cool man. I guess.” Chimney adds, but the whole atmosphere has changed. It’s not calm anymore. It’s dense, heavy, filled with a sense of bitterness no-one dares to question. It’s common knowledge now that Buck is helplessly and desperately in love with his best-friend, it’s not a secret and Buck gave up on trying to hide it from his colleagues a long time ago. After all, he’s never been very good at keeping this kind of things to himself, never been very subtle, but Eddie is Eddie and Buck doesn’t know if his best-friend’s inability to see the signs comes from a place of denial or simple obliviousness, but what’s the point now? He’s moving on.

“Buck?” Eddie asks and Buck jumps with surprise. He looks up at his best-friend and smiles widely.

“That’s awesome man.” He says, and tries to muster all the confidence he can get, but that’s a wasted effort and his best-friend is already watching him with confusion. Confusion and worry.

“Are you okay?” He asks. And Buck wants to shake his head no. Because of course he isn’t, but what can he say? It’s too late, now. And so he just clears his throat and gets up, ignoring the way Hen looks at him with compassion. “I- I just need some air.” He says, turning around, but stops dead in his track when Eddie’s hand stops him from getting further by encircling his wrist, softly.

“Hey.” Eddie says and his voice is so soft Buck wants to scream. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I just need- I just need some air.” He repeats, and rushes down the stairs.

He steps out of the station and keeps walking until he reaches a small bench. He sits down and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up at the sky, his eyes bright with tears he’s been trying to hold back for the past ten minutes.

“You’re okay, Buck?” Bobby asks from behind, and Buck quickly wipes his tears with the sleeve of his jacket, turning his head around to hide himself from his Captain.

“I’m fine.” He says. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, none of that with me, alright?” Bobby adds, and takes a seat next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you just tell him, kid?”

“I never thought I needed to.” Buck answers. And that’s probably the worst part. For a year now, he was convinced that him and Eddie were on the same page. There seemed to be a secret agreement between them and that was enough for Buck.

We’re not together officially but god forbids we date anyone else. That was the deal. Or so he thought. They were raising his son together. Buck was Christopher’s emergency contact, they were practically living together, the signs were there and they were clear. How could Eddie not see them?

“Maybe it’s time you use a more direct approach.”

“I’m not so sure how more direct I can be, Bobby. The guy’s just clueless. I’m pretty sure I could tell him I love him to his face and he would still find a way to make it sound completely platonic.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh. “You really do, don’t you? Love him, I mean.” He asks with a small smile. “I thought it was just a crush but it’s a lot more than that, isn’t it?”

Buck stares at Bobby for a few seconds, until he lowers his head with a sheepish smile.

“Of course it’s more than that.” He says. “Bobby, Christopher and Eddie… They’re it for me. There’ll never be anyone else, I mean it’s Eds, you know? He’s… He’s my soulmate.”

“Then don’t give up until it’s too late, alright?” Bobby answers, holding his gaze. “Cause trust me you still have time.”

Buck doesn’t answer anything and keeps his head down. They sit together for a while until the bell rings. And just like that, Buck puts his feelings aside and focuses on the task at hand.

---

It turns out Ana is great, and that’s probably the worst part now that Buck thinks about it. It would have been easier not to be on board with their relationship if she was inconsiderate, insensitive or straight-up rude. But no. She’s sweet, caring and nothing but kind to him and Buck doesn’t even find it in him to hate her. Eddie seems to love her a whole lot already and if his best-friend loves her, then he owes it to him to be happy for him, right? It only makes sense. What kind of friend would he be otherwise? What kind of friend would that make of him? A poor one, to say the least.

He’s seated at the table in Eddie’s kitchen, Christopher by his side. This one has been strangely quiet for the whole dinner and Buck wonders whether he missed out on something. He’s nibbling at his peas, his eyes fixed on his plate and his usual very cheerful demeanor has been replaced by a sullen one. His shoulders are slumped, but not by choice, Buck knows that kid well enough to see that something is bothering him, something so big he seems to struggle to carry the weight on his own.

“So Buck.” Ana starts and Buck looks up at her with a smile. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh uh we met at work.” He says, finding it weird that she doesn’t already know the answer to that question. “He was a new recruit.”

“He used to hate me.” Eddie says with a smile, nudging him playfully.

“Shut up, I didn’t hate you I was just feeling-”

“Threatened?” Eddie cuts him off, mocking him. Buck huffs out a laugh and cradles his chin with his right hand to make him look away. Because there’s really no need for his best-friend to notice how his cheeks start to redden now, is there?

“You think you’re so funny.” He adds.

“Bucky is dad’s best friend.” Christopher says out of the blue, holding his fork tight around his fingers, his eyes fixed on Ana.

“I thought I was yours!” Buck exclaims, faking being hurt by pressing his hand over his mouth in shock. This earns him a small laugh from Christopher who vigorously nods.

“Well his second best-friend, then.” He corrects himself. “And they love each other very much.” He adds, firmly, almost as if he’s trying to prove a point. Buck frowns for a few seconds but eventually nods at him, making sure Christopher knows he agrees with him on every point.

“We’re all very close.” Buck adds, conversationally.

“The 118 really is like a big family, isn’t it?” Ana asks. “Edmundo talks a lot about you guys.”

Edmundo. That may be the only thing Buck doesn’t like about her and from the way Eddie flinches next to him, he suspects he’s not the only one. He only hums approvingly and lets his eyes fall on his best-friend. He finds it weird, how Eddie acts around Ana. He finds it weird and unsettling. And at first, Buck only thought it was because he was meeting her for the first time and Eddie really wanted both of them to get along. Which made sense. They were best-friends after all, and Buck would probably feel the same way if he was in his shoes.

But now that he takes a closer look at him, Buck realizes that it’s not it. Eddie looks doubtful, hesitant, unsure, almost as if he’s dancing to another tune. He smiles and laughs and acts the same but something just feels off, wrong. It’s like he’s there but not quite, like his brain is working too fast and he has trouble catching up. His gestures lack of confidence, Buck can sometimes see him trying to reach out to Ana but his hand often stops midway, stays motionless for a few seconds until Eddie brings it back on his thigh, biting his lower lip. And Buck gets the willingness to impress the other person and makes sure that everything goes well, but it’s like Eddie is playing a character and that, Buck can’t get behind.

Ana is talking about her role as a vice-principal and Buck is only half-listening, not because the conversation isn’t interesting but because he’s too deep into his thoughts to focus on what she’s saying.

“Dad?” Christopher asks after a while, the slice of prune pie still left untouched on his plate. “Can I go back to my room?”

“Try and eat a bit before, alright?”

“I’m not hungry.” Christopher answers, and Buck holds back a smile when Eddie watches his son with a knowing look. You’re still hungry, you just don’t like the pie Ms Flores baked, don’t try to fool me. That’s what Eddie’s saying; Buck has become an expert in knowing how to understand non-verbal communication between the Diaz boys throughout the years and this time isn’t any different.

“Fine I just don’t like it, it’s gross.” Christopher says, his voice indifferent.

“Christopher!” Eddie exclaims, pointing the finger at him.

“I’m going to my room.” He repeats, getting up and leaving the kitchen without looking back. A heavy silence slowly settles in the kitchen and Buck wastes no time to get up as well.

“I’m gonna check up on him.” He says, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, not missing the way all the tension seems to melt away from his body at the touch.

Buck stands up and lets his hand linger a bit more on Eddie’s back, leaving the kitchen with a sigh. When he gets to Christopher’s room, this one is seated on the ground, his back facing him. A few books are lying around next to him and a whole box of Legos has been spilled on the carpet. Buck takes a few steps forward and knocks on the door a few times, smiling at him when Christopher looks up.

“Hey, is it okay if I come in?” He asks, waiting for Christopher to nod to sit down cross-legged next to him, leaning his back on the bed. “You okay in there, buddy?”

“No.” Christopher’s voice is low and filled with an animosity Buck’s not used to hear.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t like her.” He says, and Buck frowns.

"You don’t like Ms Flores?” He asks, and Christopher nods again, sticking two Legos bricks together. “Why? I thought she was your favorite teacher, back then.”

“She was. I like her as a teacher, not as dad’s girlfriend.” He says. “I don’t understand why she needs to be around all the time. I like it better when it’s just the three of us.”

“I like that too buddy but your dad and her like each other very much, you know? That’s why they’re spending so much time together. But I’m always going to be around, okay? The thing we have, the three of us? It’s not going to go away. I promise. I’ll always be there.” He explains, but from the way Christopher bites his lower lip and keeps his head down, he can see he’s still unsure.

“But I don’t think she makes dad happy, Buck.” He adds.

“You don’t?”

“No. Not as much as you do. He’s always so happy when you’re here. You make him smile, and laugh. I like him better when he’s with you. When he’s with her, he’s weird. He doesn’t act the same way, I don’t like it. And she always uses complicated words and the conversations are boring and she never plays with me. And she doesn’t know how to do the voices when she’s reading a story. You’re the only one who knows how to do it.”

Buck sighs and runs one of his hands through his hair, not knowing how to extricate himself from that situation without giving himself away. Because Christopher might be a kid but he’s far from being stupid, or naive.

“You tried telling what you just told me to your dad?” He tries.

“Why can’t you just be the one who stays?” Christopher asks and ignores his question. “I don’t understand why you can’t be the one who stays.” He repeats and his voice is louder than it was a few seconds ago. “We don’t need her with us, we need you.”

“Chris, your dad and I… We’re best friends. We’re best-friends and we like each other very much but sometimes… Sometimes, a person needs more. Sometimes, it’s not enough.” He says, closing his eyes to try and stay focused.

“But you’re enough!” Christopher says. “You are and I know dad thinks the same. He loves you.”

“He told you that?”

“He doesn’t need to, I just know.” Christopher shrugs his shoulders. “He’s more like himself when he’s with you. He’s smiling and laughing and he’s always looking at you the same way he used to look at mom when she was still around. He doesn’t look at her like this. He never did. And I hope he never does.” He adds and Buck lowers his head down, cursing himself mentally.

“Listen Chris, me and your dad, we… We can’t have what your mom and dad used to have.”

“Why?” He asks, confusion clearly shown on his face.

“Well, because I’m a man and-”

“But if he’s looking at you the same way he used to look at mom, why does it matter if you’re a man or not? My friend Amy at school, she has two dads. I know it’s possible, and you love my dad. I know you do.”

“I-” Buck tries but his words get stuck in his throat once again, and he never thought a nine-year-old kid would manage to back him into a corner like that and yet here he is. “It’s – It’s complicated, buddie.”

“It’s not. It’s only complicated because you’re an adult and adults always like to say that everything is complicated when they don’t want to explain stuff to kids. But it’s not. It’s easy. You’re always looking at him. When you come for the movie nights, you’re always the one who make dinner for us because we love your cooking. You hug him every time you leave our house and you do the same things with me that mom used to do. You’re helping me with my homework, you’re telling me a story every time I go to bed and you’re always making me feel better when I’m sad.”

“When did you become so smart?” Buck asks, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“So you do love him.” Christopher says. “You love my dad.” He adds, placing one of his hands on Buck’s cheek.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes but you said I was smart. If you think I’m smart, then it means I’m right. You love my dad.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and smiles when Christopher wraps both of his arms around his neck.

“If you love him, you should tell him.” He says. “Carla always tells me that if you love someone, then you should tell them.”

“And I should listen to Carla, right?” Buck asks.

“You should always listen to Carla.” Christopher rectifies. “That’s what my dad says.”

“Alright then.” He answers, tousling his hair. “Then I’ll try. I promise.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell him anything.”

–--

When Buck gets back to the living-room, Ana is gone and Eddie is back to his usual self. Disheveled hair, his sleeves rolled up and the few first buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. His posture is more relaxed and natural, the tension has disappeared from his shoulders and it’s like he’s breathing again.

He’s clearing the table and Buck joins him, wiping the plates and the silverware while Eddie handles the washing part.

“Ana left?”

“She did, I- I kinda asked her to, I wanted to make sure Christopher’s okay.” Eddie says, his voice filled with worry. “He doesn’t like her very much, does he?”

“It’s- It’s not that.” Buck says, trying to figure out what’s the best way to act right now. “He’s just… He’s just adjusting, Eds, and- you don’t need to rush into this, you know?”

“You think I’m rushing into this?” Eddie asks, looking up at him in search of reassurance.

Buck sighs and looks down at the plate in his hands, wondering what to say. Telling him the truth is not an option, at least not right now. He can see his best-friend’s head is filled with unanswered questions and doubts and the last thing Buck wants is to give him another reason to panic and overthink, and saying I’m in love with you and I really wish you would stop trying so hard to play a role that doesn’t look anything like you when you’re with her because it’s making me everyone uncomfortable is probably not the way to go.

“Maybe?” Buck says, carefully.

“Buck.” Eddie starts, exasperated. “Straight to the point, please?”

“Look, I… I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove, here.” He answers, placing the dried plate in the cupboard.

“I’m not trying to prove anything, but Bobby told me I should start taking advantages of the opportunities that are right in front of me and that’s what I’m doing. I’m dating Ana. She’s nice. I like her.”

“Who are you trying to convince here, me or yourself?” Buck asks. “He really said that? Bobby, I mean? And you think he was talking about Ana?”

“Well if not her, who else? She was right in front of me during that call.”

Buck huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. It’s like the universe is screaming at you. And you refuse to listen. That’s what he said to him that day and Buck has to refrain himself from repeating these exact same words.

“Listen Eds. All I’m saying is that you don’t need to pretend to be someone that you’re not when you’re with her. You shouldn’t have to do that for a relationship to work. And I get it. I do. I get the will to impress her but that’s not what this is about here, Eds.” He says. “Christopher sees it too, you know.”

Eddie whirls his head around. “He said that to you?”

“Not in these actual words.” Buck precises. “But that was the overall idea, I think.” He adds. “It’s a big change for him, I guess he just needs time to… To adjust.”

“Should I go talk to him?” Eddie asks and that’s just another thing that makes Buck want to scream. The way Eddie always comes to him for parental advice as if Buck’s as involved in raising Christopher as he is, as if Buck is as entitled as he is to take decisions concerning Christopher’s well being. It makes him hope for something bigger, makes him hope for something greater, makes him hope for something he knows he can’t have.

“I don’t know Eds.” He still says after a while. “He probably needs some time alone.”

“Alright.” Eddie agrees, leaning against the kitchen counter, the dish towel placed on his right shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Well I should probably head back.” Buck says with a smile. “I’m pretty tired and it’s a big shift tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.” Eddie answers and wraps his arms around his back to bring him closer. Buck rests his chin on his right shoulder and closes his eyes for a few seconds, sighing in relief. Because as much as he would like for them to stop being so intimate, a part of him is simply always going to be drawn to him, and when Eddie moves his hand from his back to his neck, letting his fingers play with the roots of his hair, Buck is pretty sure the universe is ganging up against him.

---

It starts slowly, so slowly Buck doesn’t really think anything of it, at first. After all, it’s only texts. Texts that Eddie doesn’t answer to, texts that Eddie ignores. It’s nothing much, nothing worth arguing over and the last thing Buck wants is to sound possessive or excessive, and so he says nothing.

But then days turn into weeks and it’s just not texts anymore, it’s calls that are ignored, movie nights that are canceled and Buck tries to stay calm, he tries very hard to stay calm and clear-headed but he can’t shake off the feeling that he’s being left out from what used to be his safe place. And that’s something Buck could have handled, that’s something Buck could have faced but what’s intolerable for him is that he promised Christopher that things would never change, that he wouldn’t go away, and yet that’s exactly what’s happening. And Buck hates himself for it.

“It’s not gonna last.” Hen says one day when they’re both seated at the kitchen’s table inside the fire station. They had shared a lunch together and Eddie had taken the opportunity to formally introduce Ana to the team. Nothing quite out of the ordinary – Buck thinks, if it isn’t for the fact that once again, Eddie didn’t look like himself the whole time Ana was there. “I mean don’t get me wrong Ana’s awesome but that’s just not gonna last.” She repeats, once Eddie left the station to walk Ana back to her car.

“Ditto.” Chimney only says as he’s taking a seat next to them. “There’s no chemistry there, trust me.”

“So it’s like that, now?” Buck asks with a knowing smile. “You have a kid and all of a sudden you’re an expert in loving relationships?”

“You really don’t need to be an expert to see that it’s not gonna work.” Hen intervenes. “What are your thoughts, Cap?”

“If this is something Eddie wants to pursue then we should trust his judgment.” Bobby says carefully but the hesitant expression on his face says otherwise.

“But?” Hen asks. “We get it you’re nice but tell us what you really think.”

“Well let’s just say when I told Eddie to take advantage of the opportunities that were right in front of him, I didn’t necessarily mean Ana.” He admits, his eyes on Buck.

Buck shrugs his shoulders and looks down with a sad smile. “Yeah no offense but I don’t think he got that part, Cap.”

“He will.” Bobby affirms.

“Yeah I’m not so sure about that.” Buck contradicts him. “She’s already more around than me and I- Look I promised Christopher I wouldn’t go anywhere cause he’s freaking out about the whole thing but this is exactly what’s happening right now. He’s moving on. And there’s no place for me there anymore, which – you know – it’s fine. I should have seen this coming. But it still hurts, and I don’t mind me hurting but I know Christopher’s hurting as well and that I- I can’t stand it, Cap. I just can’t.”

“Then tell him, Buck.” Bobby advises. “Tell Eddie.”

“Tell me what?” Eddie says from behind. Buck whirls his head around but it doesn’t seem like Eddie heard more than that and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“I just-” Buck stops mid-sentence and only goes on when Hen sends him an encouraging smile. “I was just wondering if we could do something with Christopher someday. It’s been a while and… Well I miss the kid.” He adds and Eddie’s face instantly softens.

“Of course we can. You have anything in mind?”

“Well there’s this space museum not far from here. It’s still a one hour drive but you know I- I figured we could give it a try.” Eddie smiles and instantly nods, taking his phone from his back pocket.

“Great. I’ll ask Ana if she’s down for it.”

As soon as these few words are out in the open, a heavy silence settles in the room. Buck bites his lower lip and looks down at his feet with a sigh, Chimney snorts and Hen lifts her hand to her forehead in embarrassment.

“… Or not.” Eddie says after he reads the room, putting his phone down on the table. “Just the three of us?” He asks and Buck looks up at him with a hopeful expression.

“If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay Buck, I-” Eddie starts and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?”

Buck dismisses it with a hand’s gesture. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” Eddie says, shaking his head. “It’s not and I’m sorry.” He adds. “Can you… Can you guys give us a moment?” He asks, and Hen instantly gets up and gestures at Chimney to do the same. When Buck turns his head, they’re both gone and Bobby is already seated in his office, probably busy with some paperwork. He’s alone with Eddie. “Alright I’m listening.”

“Listening to what?” Buck asks him, confused.

“Listening to you telling me how much I fucked up as a friend.”

“You didn’t fuck u-”

“Buck.” Eddie cuts him off, firmly resolved to hear what’s on Buck’s mind. Buck holds his gaze for a few seconds, looking for a way out, but looks down and sighs in defeat.

“Eddie it’s fine.” He says. “You were probably busy with Ana and I know what it’s like to have the impression that your life only resolved around the other person at first, it’s- As I said. It’s fine. And you know I probably should have seen thi-”

“No.” Eddie cuts in again, placing one of his hands on Buck’s shoulder. “You’re not getting out of that one by blaming yourself, okay? Now tell me. What did I do wrong?”

“You ignored my texts.” Buck says, shrugging his shoulders like it’s not a big deal but Eddie keeps staring at him and encouraging him to say more and what the hell? - Buck thinks. His best-friend is the one looking for confrontation here and he’d be damned if he didn’t take the opportunity to get it all of his chest. “You ignored my calls.” He adds. “You canceled movie nights two times because you had plans with Ana – which is fine cause you’re allowed to do that but damn Eddie, Christopher made me promise that I wouldn’t go anywhere, he made me promise that things wouldn’t change if you started dating Ana and look at us, now. I’m barely coming over to your house anymore. It’s been one week and a half since I last saw him and you know damn well that I love this kid like he was my own and I hate myself for letting him go through that.”

“What else?” Eddie asks, his eyes already bright with tears.

“You shut me out, Eddie.” Buck answers, looking up at him, his eyes filled with a determination that scares him. “You shut me out.” He repeats but slower, this time.

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Lonely.” Buck answers honestly. “Angry. Sad. Confused. But mostly lonely.”

“Why is that?” Eddie asks and Buck huffs out a laugh, looking up at him incredulously.

“What do you think?” He answers and his tone comes out harsher than he intended and Eddie looks up at him in surprise. “I’ve never had a home, Eddie.” He adds, and his voice breaks. “I’ve never had a home until you came around. Even with my parents I felt like a stranger in my own house. And I know I said that the 118 has always felt like a family to me and I mean it but you and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.” Buck says. "I mean I- I love you, alright?”

“And we love you too.” Eddie answers, cupping his cheeks with his hands. “We do, and you’re always going to be a part of this family, okay? I promise. I’m sorry I acted like a jerk.” He adds, bringing his lips to his forehead and Buck swears he can feel his heart cracked open at the touch. “Listen I promised Ana I would get dinner with her tonight but how do you feel about spending some time with Christopher?”

“I’d like that.” Buck says with a smile.

“I promise I won’t be long” Eddie adds. “And tomorrow we can go to that space museum. Just the three of us. Deal?”

“Deal.”

---

When Eddie goes back home after their shit, he has to witness Buck breaking down in tears and hugging Christopher close to his chest. Christopher had his eyes closed and from the way he’s clinging on to Buck, there is no doubt in Eddie’s mind that Buck’s absence had left a large void in his son’s life. And his heart breaks at the sight.

Bucky you’re home – Christopher had said to him, his chin rested on his right shoulder.

You’re home – Eddie repeats quietly to himself as he makes his way over to Ana’s house. He knocks on the door a few times and smiles at her when she opens it, taking a step to the side to let him in. She guides him to the couch and immediately starts to talk about his day as a vice-principal, which is usually something Eddie would try and listen with the greatest attention, but not today. Not today. Today, Christopher and Buck’s words are being played over and over again in his head and Eddie’s mind is a thousand miles away from that room.

Bucky you’re home.

I’ve never had a home until you came around.

You and Chris? You gave me a home, Eds.

I’m not home – Eddie suddenly thinks to himself.

“I’m sorry?” Ana asks, confused and Eddie whirls his head around when he realizes he just said those words out loud. “You’re not home?”

And suddenly, everything makes sense.

Home. It became such a strange concept for Eddie along the years. A constant evolution. In the first few years of his life, home was wherever his parents were. His childhood house, a cabin in the mountains during Christmas’ holiday, a tent in the middle of the forest. It didn’t matter where he was, as long as he was there with his parents, and his sisters.

And then he met Shannon and suddenly the word ‘home’ wasn’t only resolving around his parents and his sisters anymore. It became a bit larger to include her and then Christopher. His son was already his whole world back then and Eddie would have done anything for him.

But then Afghanistan happened and his life in Texas started to be tainted by arguments and harsh words. And so Eddie fled, convincing himself that maybe the army could become his new home. But god, was he wrong, and he quickly was hit by the realization that he would never really be home if Christopher wasn’t by his side.

And sure he considers the 118 as his family but his home? His home is with Christopher.

Eddie doesn’t really know when Buck first entered into the equation.

Maybe it’s when he first met Chris and that these two instantly hit it off. Maybe it’s when Buckley-Diaz movie nights became a thing. Maybe it’s when Buck helped him build a skateboard for his son or maybe it’s when he saved him from a tsunami.

Maybe it’s a combination of all these examples and a thousand more, and to be perfectly honest Eddie doesn’t really care because Buck is there now and he doesn’t want him going anywhere.

After all, people always say that home is where the heart is.

And Eddie’s heart? Eddie’s heart is with Buck. With Christopher first, but then Buck.

So no. “I’m not home.” Eddie repeats, his eyes lowered to the ground. “I – I’m sorry Ana but I – I can’t do this anymore. Us. It’s not going to work. I wanted it to work and I thought it would but it won’t. I’m sorry.”

“Edmundo.” Ana sighs, placing her hand on his thigh.

“Eddie.” He answers. “It’s Eddie. Not Edmundo.” He adds. “I really am sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, you’ve almost been perfect but-”

“But I can’t compete with him.” She finishes for him and Eddie whirls his head around, his eyes wide.

“How can you- you’ve only seen him twice.”

“Then it must really says a lot about what he feels about you.” Ana answers, smiling sadly. "He looks at you like you’re his whole world. And sometimes, you’re looking at him the exact same way.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down, sighing. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. “I’m sorry I swear I didn’t mean to lead you on, I really thought I was doing the right thing. But I wasn’t, and to be perfectly honest with you, Ana, I haven’t – I haven’t really been myself around you. You make me nervous all the time and I feel like – I feel like I have to become someone else when I’m with you. At first I thought it was just the nerves of starting a new relationship but… But weeks passed and it’s still there. I’m trying too hard and I’m not sure – I’m not sure it’s the right way to go.” He admits. “With him, it’s easy. It’s always been easy and maybe that’s the problem. It’s always been so easy that I – that I never took the time to wonder if there was something more going on.”

“And there is?” Ana smiles at him and this time it’s not sad, it’s sincere, honest.

“I think so.” Eddie admits, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, of course there is. Definitely.”

“Then you should go tell him that.” Ana answers.

“I can stay.” Eddie instantly says. “We had planned this for a while and I”

“You want to be with him.” She cuts him off. “Edm – Eddie. I love you. But if your happiness lies with him then I’m not going to put myself between you and him. Go.” She adds, and seems taken aback when Eddie wraps his arms around her back. She rests her chin on his shoulder and lets herself enjoy the intimacy.

“We can finish that conversation anytime, alright?” Eddie says, standing up. “We could get a coffee next week and get everything off our chests once and for all. How does that sound?”

“That sounds good.” Ana smiles.

Eddie waves at her one last time and rushes out of the house. He steps in his truck and starts driving. His head is spinning and his heart is pounding against his chest but he’s never been so sure of anything in his life. This is what’s been missing. This is what’s been missing all these years. Buck. The missing part of the puzzle.

Eddie parks next to Buck’s car and stays motionless for a while before feeling brave enough to get out of his truck and walks towards his house. He stops at the front door and closes his eyes, only for a few seconds. He takes a deep breath and lowers the handle. He steps in and here he is. Buck. His best-friend is standing up behind the kitchen’s counter, seemingly busing preparing pizza dough.

It’s only when Eddie closes the door behind him that Buck looks up at him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Eddie?” He asks. “I thought you had a date night with Ana.”

“I did.” Eddie says with a smile. He takes a few steps towards him. “I cut it short.”

“Why?” Buck is still frowning but Eddie can note a slight glimmer of hope crossing his eyes.

“She wasn’t the person I wanted to spend the evening with.” Eddie only says and before he knows it, he’s pressing Buck against the fridge, capturing his mouth in a hungry kiss. His left hand cradles his chin and he places the other on the back of his neck. A startled noise comes out of Buck’s mouth but it only takes him a few seconds to kiss him back with just as much passion, his thumbs on his cheeks and the rest of his fingers running through his hair. Eddie smiles against his lips and moves his hands from his face to his waist, bringing him closer.

When they break apart, Buck’s hair is disheveled, his cheeks red and his lips swollen and Eddie huffs out a small laugh, his right hand grabbing onto his shirt tight, his eyes closed.

“God I’ve been so stup-”

“Shut up.” Buck cuts him off by pressing their lips together another time. The kiss is gentler this time, slower, and when Buck pulls at his hair a bit, Eddie can’t stop a small whimper from slipping out past his lips. “Wait.” Buck says, pushing him a little by placing his hand on his chest. “What about Ana?”

“I broke up with her.” Eddie instantly says, chasing his lips another time but Buck is faster and stops him from doing so by changing their positions and being the one having him pressed against the fridge.

“Why?” Buck asks.

“Because I’m in love with you.” Eddie answers so simply and that seems to be enough for Buck who lashes forward and crashes their lips together and Eddie would lie if he said he didn’t like being pressed against the fridge like that. He moves his mouth from Buck’s lips to his jaw, his neck, but stops dead in his track when a voice resonates from behind.

“You did it.” Christopher says and they jump away from each other, getting the creases out of their shirts in embarrassment. Eddie’s eyes fall on Christopher but his son only has eyes for Buck. “You told him.” He adds and a large smile breaks in on his face.

“I did.” Buck answers and huffs out a laugh when Christopher comes to him and wraps his arms around his legs. He takes him in his arms and hugs him, his eyes still fixed on Eddie.

I’ll explain later – Buck mouths to him silently with a smile.

Eddie only nods and his face softens when Christopher buries his face in the crook of Buck’s neck. It only lasts a few seconds, though, and when his son’s eyes fall on him, a small laugh escapes his lips.

“Dad, you have flour all over your hair.” He says, and Eddie runs his hands in his curls, smiling when the white powder falls on the flour. Buck looks up at him and smiles apologetically at him but Eddie dismisses it with a hand’s gesture and wraps his arms around the both of them. He sighs in relief and breathes in the scent of Buck’s after shave and Christopher’s shampoo and thinks to himself:

This is exactly where I want to be.

“Welcome back home, Buck.”

[biletdoux]

x marks the spot | x.dj

Member | xiaojun (nct) + gender neutral!reader Rating | g Genre + Tropes | childhood friends to lovers!au, idol!xiaojun, romance (fluff) Warning(s) | none, unless you consider badly written fluff something to be wary of lol Length | 5.1k+ Prompts | “Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you.” - Mariah Carey (All I Want for Christmas is You) + “I should be playin’ in the winter snow, I’ma be here under the mistletoe.” - Justin Bieber (Mistletoe) Playlist | All I Want for Christmas is You - Mariah Carey // Mistletoe - Justin Bieber  // My Everything - NCT U

Summary | You were five years old when you met your best friend.

(Or; the cycle of waiting and wanting between you and Xiaojun throughout the years.)

Note: For the Walking in a Winter Wonderland Collab hosted by @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​! Merry Christmas and have a happy holiday season, everyone <333 let me know what you think!

yo,,, fluff is so hard to write, so mad respect to all the fluff writers out there. 

“Hey—”

You were five years old and had a knack for stating the obvious.

“You’re not Chengxiao!” Your voice was loud and annoying, the shrill ring of it reverberated throughout the open roof. Your index finger, straight and stern, was aimed right at his face in accusation, as if it was a sin to not adhere to your expectations. “Chengxiao was supposed to be here, not you!”

The boy who was indeed not Chengxiao, as you so clearly pointed out, sniffled even louder as he clutched at his toy buccaneer sword. All around you, drying linens and laundry swayed gently in the summer breeze to the sound of his soft sniveling, before he broke out into an all out sob.

You were five years old and also insensitive in the way that five year olds were. 

“Uhm,” you faltered, your pointer finger recoiled back just ever so slightly as his cries continued. 

This was not supposed to happen. You were supposed to be playing hide-and-seek with your building friends and maybe grab a popsicle down the street later once you all tired out. You lost the rock-paper-scissors between everyone and had to be the first seeker. You counted all the way to 100 without even peeking once, even though you were tempted many times when you heard the occasional giggle and scattered footsteps.

Chunyang was always the easiest to find between the three of you. He was also five like you and he always hid on the sixth floor of your shared building, usually behind the large potted plants near the stairway. You actually found him behind the leaky plumbing pipes at the end of the hall, but he was still on the sixth floor nonetheless. 

Chengxiao was different. She was seven years old, two whole years older than you and Chunyang, and she was also much smarter than the two of you. It was always difficult to find Chengxiao because she was more tricky and clever than your one-track minded five year old brain. 

When you found Chunyang, the two of you agreed to split up and search for Chengxiao separately, the first one to find her gets the ultimate bragging rights for the rest of their life. When you shook on the deal, Chunyang immediately took off for the stairs, clumsily bounding down the steps with as much grace as a five year old could muster, which left you with only one option remaining; climbing the flight of stairs to the roof. 

The roof was large and vast, filled with a sea of linen and mismatched laundry drying in the wind. The sun was at its peak in the sky as you started your searching, scouring near and wide for Chengxiao. When you nearly lost hope, you noticed a pair of white sneakers belonging to a person hidden behind a billowing bed sheet. You rushed toward it with all your might, already tasting how a sweet a lifetime of bragging to Chunyang would taste on your lips, but as soon as you yanked back the cloth, your mouth immediately turned sour at the sight of a boy with brown hair and teary eyes. 

Your tone was harsher than you intended, so here you were stuck with a blubbering boy and your lifetime bragging rights out the window. 

“Hey,” you tried again. You were five years old and not very good at comforting people. “My mom says children who cry won’t get any candy until they stop.” 

Unsurprisingly, his cries did not cease and you were scandalized by it. The possibility of no candy left you in shock and awe, so why wasn’t he feeling the same as you?

“Who, hic, cares about candy, hic,” he started, every few words out of his mouth was staccatoed by an uncontrollable hiccup.  “If I can’t see, hic, my friends!” 

“Huh?” you tilted your head to the side. “Why can’t you see your friends anymore?” 

It took a few seconds of blubbered hiccups before the boy answered, “cause we moved far away from them!”

You absorbed his words in quiet consideration. How would candy taste if you had to move away from Chengxiao and Chunyang? Not very good, but… 

“Why don’t you make new friends?” 

“I don’t want new friends! I want, hic, to go back to my old home!” Indignant, he lashed back. “I want to go back, hic, and play pirates with my old friends.” 

“I’ll play pirates with you,” you offered. You didn’t think much about the rest of the words that escaped your mouth either. “I’ll be your friend. I want to be your friend.”

The boy was significantly calmer after shouting out his frustrations. He wiped at his tears and for the first time you had a good look at his brown eyes. You didn’t know it at the time, but the boy, like you, was also five years old, and five year olds calmed down as easily as they lost their temper.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, tone soft and quiet. “Would you really, hic, be my friend?” 

Your smile was brighter than the summer sun that day. “Yeah, of course!”

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Yeah, and I can also show you my friends right now too. We’re playing hide-and-seek.” You grabbed his free hand, the one not holding the toy sword, as you tugged him to get off the roof. He followed obediently without a word. 

“What’s your name, by the way?” You asked over your shoulders, your voice ringing through the roof.

“My name is Xiao Dejun.”

You were five years old when you met your best friend. 

--

The air was crisp with the sharp, but refreshing sting of sea salt as the waves crashed onto the side of your ship. You climbed out onto the main deck to check on the progress of the voyage. The waters were steady and your trusty sea vessel rocked to the rhythm of the ocean. There were no clouds in the sky this far out into the sea and the sunlight blinded your eyes, but you didn’t need to see it to know that the treasure was straight ahead. You took another deep breath to savor the thought of future riches before you turned around to go look for your first mate. 

You traveled the expanse of the main deck before reaching the weathered ratlines. The rope felt coarse to the touch as you climbed all the way up to the crow’s nest. Once you made it, there he was, standing and staring out to the wide ocean, probably lost in thought about gold and jewels. 

“First mate Xiaojun.” you called. 

He turned his head and smiled. “Hey, I was waiting for you.”

You fully climb into the crow’s nest and settle beside him. “We’re about to find the secret buried treasure.” 

“Yes, captain,” he nodded his head in agreement.

“What do you want to do with you half?”

“Hm…” Xiaojun was contemplative. “I’ll need to buy another sword. Mine is getting rusty. What about you?”

“I would like to—”

“Class! Recess is over.” Your teacher, Mrs. Huang, interrupted you before you could finish. “It’s time to head back now.” 

And suddenly your trusty sea vessel was no longer a ship, but actually a small corner of the large school playground. The tethered and hardened ratlines melted away to reveal the metal ladders of the play area and the crow’s nest was the slide tower. The sun, however, remained as bright as ever.

Your first mate looked at you and a mischievous glint crossed his eyes. “I’ll race you to the classroom!” He hollered as he threw himself down the slide and took off running as soon as his feet hit the ground. You were not far behind him as you shrieked for him to slow down. 

You were eight years old and you kept your promise to him about playing pirates. 

The two of you became the best of friends shortly after your encounter on the roof. You grew close to him exceptionally fast when you learned he and his family had moved to the same floor as you and your family. Chengxiao and Chunyang liked him well enough and your tight trio grew to accept a fourth corner. 

When school rolled around, you were delighted to find out he was also enrolled in the same school as you and even was in the same class. Since then, the two of you had been inseparable. 

He beat you to the classroom by a few steps and his smile was dazzling as he gloated to your face. You sneered back at him as you watched his fringe stick to his forehead from sweat. 

“I only lost cause you cheated.” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” 

You both sat down in your assigned classroom seating, with him exactly one seat behind you. Mrs. Huang announced it was independent study time, so everyone quietly pulled out their books.

When you pulled out yours, you realized you had broken your pencil and had nothing to write with. You pushed your chair back and leaned over on his desk. 

“Hey Xiaojun, can I borrow a pencil?”

He was still Dejun then, but he was always Xiaojun to you.

He looked annoyed, but went to rummage for his pencil pouch in his backpack anyway. “Don’t call me that unless we’re playing. How many times have I told you to call me Dejun? That’s my name so use it.” 

“But I don’t want to,” you huffed.

“And why is that?” Xiaojun found a suitable pencil and handed it over to you. 

“Because,” you took the writing utensil from his outstretched hand. “You’ll always be my first mate Xiaojun no matter what.” 

You returned back to your desk before you could notice the blush that colored his cheeks and you didn’t turn back to him again for the remainder of the independent study time. You didn’t realize it at the time, but Xiaojun never bothered to correct his name ever since. 

You were eight years old when you became someone special to Xiaojun. 

--

You felt hot and sticky.

Summers in Guangdong were hot and humid in ways that left you gasping for air as if you had been trudging through a thick wall of sludge. The heat was heavy and thick, reminiscent of an unpleasant weighted blanket that wrapped around you at all the wrong times and places. During the summer, the Guangdong sun was angry, and you felt as though its wrath was personal from how intensely the rays would beat down on your back as you hopped from one stall to another. Nonetheless, you were not deterred because you came here on a mission.

You were thirteen years old and wanted to do whatever it took to find your best friend the perfect birthday present. 

You prepared for August 9th tirelessly with impressive care and consideration. You had been casually asking questions and fishing for hints months before the fated date to figure out the most perfect and surefire gift for Xiaojun. When you realized he wanted a new controller for his PlayStation because the ‘X’ on his current one wasn’t working half the times, you knew you had to get him a new one. And so, you started to plan.

Step one was complete. You figured out what Xiaojun wanted, but now step two was in the way. How were you going to get it for him? You were thirteen years old and you had no money. You couldn’t ask your parents for money because then that would mean your parents actually got Xiaojun the present and not you, even though it was your idea. After thinking long and hard, you decided to carefully siphon a small portion of your lunch money each day until you had enough to purchase the controller. Even though the lunch money was from your parents, the money was given to you, so now it’s your money and not your parents’ anymore and you had to work hard to save it, so using this money to buy Xiaojun the gift will be really meaningful.

You were thirteen years old and your logic was a bit off, but your heart was in the right place. 

After months of saving, you finally had enough and couldn’t be happier. You had everything set and just needed to find the time to go out to the electronics store. You were so giddy that you nearly let the big surprise slip one day when you were over at his house. 

It was two days before his birthday and Xiaojun was just at your house yesterday, which meant that today, the two of you would go back to his. Xiaojun’s mother was already used to this and prepared pre-cut slices of fruit for the two of you before the front door even opened. The two of you bowed in thanks before greedily grabbing the plate of fruit before barreling to his room with a large slam of his bedroom door. 

You were laying on his bed munching on an apple slice in your hands and Xiaojun was at his desk on his rolling computer chair with an orange slice in his. Outside of his window, the hustle and bustle of a Guangdong afternoon can be heard, but the noise was far away for you and Xiaojun were in your own quiet little bubble. 

When he finished his orange slice, Xiaojun suddenly perked up. “Hey, you want to see something?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

He stood up and walked over to his closet to grab a box. Inside, he pulled out two new PlayStation controllers, still in the factory wrapping and all, and your heart dropped. 

“My parents got this for my birthday. They gave it to me early cause I did really well on my exams and they knew my current controller sucks,” he explained. “Want to play that new game? It’ll be so nice to finally have a working ‘X’ button.” 

You felt nauseated and suddenly had to go. You were thirteen years old and you were a little dramatic. 

You never gave Xiaojun a proper explanation for leaving so suddenly that day, but you had bigger problems to deal with. What were you going to do now? Step one was now out the window, but at least you still had the money you saved up, so maybe you can still make this work. It would still be okay because you had one full day tomorrow to go out and shop for his gift. Except that when you returned home, your mom informed you that your extra tutoring classes would be doubled tomorrow because your teacher will be out of town and can’t teach for the next few days. Great.

So that’s how you found yourself here, at the local street market standing under the blazing sun in your tutoring school uniform. It was summer break and your parents signed you up for additional morning classes. By the time you were let off, you’d only have an hour to shop for a gift, until it was time to go to Xiaojun’s party. 

Originally, you thought one hour should be more than enough, but as you drifted from one stall to another, you realized no one had anything just right for Xiaojun and you already promised yourself you were going to get something perfect for him, and you didn't break your promises. By the time you found something perfect for him, you didn’t realize 55 minutes had passed. When you checked the time, your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. You were definitely going to be late. You paid the stall lady and barely waited for change as you made a mad dash toward Xiaojun’s apartment.

When you arrived, Xiaojun’s mother greeted you warmly and let you in. “He was waiting for you. He refused to start without you.”

Xiaojun had a small party with only close friends and you were the last to arrive. You felt embarrassed initially, but that was soon forgotten when the party started. 

When it was time to open the presents, Xiaojun saved yours for last, in fact, he didn’t open it until all the guests left and it was only the two of you with his parents cleaning the aftermath of the party in the background. 

He carefully pulled apart the hastily wrapped box and you held your breath in anticipation. He held up the keychain in the air to show the leather strap next to a metal charm in the shape of a ship’s helm. Xiaojun said nothing for a whole minute and suddenly you started to doubt yourself. 

“Thank you,” he breathed. “I love it.” 

His smile made your breath hitch.

You were thirteen years old when your heart started to feel lopsided in ways it had never had before.

--

The paper sitting in front of you was due soon and yet it was still there on your desk, unfinished, as if it were mocking you. You felt annoyed, but you knew at the end of the day this was your fault and only you could fix this, but no matter how hard you grasped your pen, you could not urge words of ink to spill out and fill the page. You were not sure how long you stared at the page, but you knew you had to do something about it. 

You were seventeen years old and you were lost.

With an indignant huff, you grabbed the sheet of paper and marched all the way to Xiaojun’s apartment. Xiaojun’s parents were out, so it was Xiaojun himself who let you in. He was surprised to see you, but welcomed you warmly, glad to see you face.

“Hey,” he already started to make his way back to his room after shutting the front door, not even bothering to look back to see if you were going to follow because he knew you were. “What’s up?” 

Immediately after entering Xiaojun’s room, you plopped yourself face down onto his pillow while holding up the white sheet of paper in the air. “This is killing me,” you groaned.

Xiaojun chuckled before taking hold of the paper. His eyes widened when he read its content. “You haven’t filled it out yet?” 

This sheet of paper was going to determine your whole future. This sheet was going to be your priority list of which colleges you wanted to apply for and which major you were going to study, so your teacher could help narrow it down for you and give you some career counseling. 

“I don’t know what to put,” you whined. “Help me, Xiaojun.”

“Okay, okay, do you know what school or major you’re interested in?” 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.” 

“Fair point. Uhm. What’s the best school you think you can get in?” 

“I don’t know, maybe some local university?” 

“Okay… and major?” 

“I don’t know, whatever department is easiest to get into I guess.” 

Xiaojun gave you a pointed look. “Come on, take this seriously.” 

You were seventeen years old and you were frustrated. 

“I don’t know, Xiaojun! I really don’t have any clue whatsoever and everyone around me is so disappointed because I have no direction, but trust me, I can guarantee you that I’m much more disappointed than everyone around me.” 

Xiaojun’s eyes softened and he moved to sit on his bed near your defeated figure. He rubbed your back gently and his tone was sincere. “I’m not disappointed in you. I could never be disappointed in you.”

You looked up at him before opening your arms wide open for a hug, which Xiaojun granted easily. The two of you laid there in easy comfort despite the impending unknown future that loomed overhead, casting a shadow of doubt in its wake. When you were with Xiaojun, none of that mattered. 

After a while, your head perked up from its place on top of Xiaojun’s arms as you looked at him. “Wait, what about you? Did you fill it out? What do you want to be?” 

Xiaojun laughed, “yeah, I did.” 

You waited expectantly, but he said nothing. You grew annoyed. “Well? What’d you put?”

Xiaojun looked at you. His eyes were soft and warm, but you could see some faint traces of hesitation, like a surface of still water had been disturbed. The pit of your stomach dropped and you felt your throat go dry with nervous tension.

“I want to be a singer.” 

You punched him lightly. “You scared me, cause you got all serious for a second.” You laughed out loud, as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. “You’re for sure going to be the best singer in all of China, no, the whole world! And I’m going to be there every step of the way to support you, Xiaojun.” 

“Okay,” he smiled softly, but his tone was almost bittersweet as though he was trying to pull back. “That’s good to hear.” 

“Why are you acting so weird? This is not like you at all.” 

He said nothing at first, but then his words hit you. All the weight off your shoulder earlier returned tenfold. “I was casted. I’m flying to South Korea next week.”

Your heart was pounding as you tried to make sense of the words that left his mouth. You remembered the first time he confided you in absolute confidence about his dreams and aspirations. You remembered countless hours he put into singing and you remembered how often he would stream videos of singers he admired. You remembered all of it.

“I’m,” you started. “I’m so happy for you, Xiaojun. This is it, this is the start of your dream. I couldn’t be more proud of you, Xiaojun, I mean it.” 

The sincerity in your tone had Xiaojun choking on his words and he didn’t know what to say. All that left his mouth was, “what do you want to be?” 

“Me?” Your chest felt heavy. “I think I just want to be happy.”

“Yeah,” he hummed. “I want you to be happy too.” 

A week later, you saw Xiaojun off at the airport. He exchanged tearful goodbyes with his parents and suddenly he was standing in front of you. His eyes looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for something that you were not sure you were able to procure for him. You gave him the biggest hug you were able to muster and hoped all the unsaid things could be transferred through touch. The two of you stayed in each other’s arms until his flight was called. With a final wave, he was off, and when he turned around to walk toward his terminal, you saw a keychain with a metal charm and an old worn down leather strap hanging from one of the zippers of his carry-ons.

You were seventeen years old when you felt your heart swell with undeniable pride, yet break simultaneously. 

--

You missed Xiaojun.

You were twenty-one years old when you came to terms with your feelings for your best friend. It was not an earth-shattering, cosmic-altering, reality-bending epiphany, but rather a quiet revelation followed by unspoken acceptance.

You were currently sitting in economy class on a flight en route to Seoul, South Korea. You had still kept in contact with him throughout the years he was out there pursuing his dreams. You decided to enroll in the local university and you picked a major on a whim. Despite the circumstances, you had really come to terms with it and grew to like it. You were now working hard at developing a solid career from it and you felt proud of yourself. 

When text messages and video calls became few and far between for you and Xiaojun due to busy schedules and time zone differences, you knew he was something more than just a friend. Your heart fluttered whenever you heard his specially assigned notification tone. You felt giddy each time before you opened his message and you read each text at least three times before sending a reply. When you don’t hear from him on days on end due to his busy schedule, time passed by at an unbearable pace. 

Xiaojun made his debut and you were one of the first to pre-order his albums. You constantly gushed and raved about his singing and his dancing. You stayed up countless nights to let Xiaojun vent and de-stress over video call despite having to sacrifice precious hours of sleep. True to your word, you were there with Xiaojun every step of the way while he achieved his dreams, but he was also there for you when you figured out your path. He was there to listen and offer advice as you considered one career path over the other and which internship to take. The two of you were there for each other. 

Due to the very nature of growing up and what that entailed, both of you were very busy and the timing was always slightly off. When you were free, he had to go on tour, but when he was free, you had to go out of town for your internship. As such, you were twenty-one years old and had not had a chance to see your best friend in person for nearly four years since he left for South Korea.

But this year, for the winter holidays, it was going to be different. You were going to make time to go see him no matter what. You were firm on the requested days off and you booked the flight weeks in advance. Xiaojun was kept in the loop of your meticulous holiday planning at all times to ensure that he could free up his schedules at just the right time to see you. 

The two of you never actually expressed your changing feelings for one another, but perhaps you didn’t need to. You had known each other practically your whole lives and what is a relationship if not the constant changing and finetuning of the little details? 

You weren’t blind to the consistent ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts you received from Xiaojun each day without fail, nor was he blind to your constant fretting if he had eaten yet and how he should always be taking care of himself. It was the little things that sung of true love. 

When the two of you had the chance to video call, his eyes would light up with a smile to match and you feel your soul ache in the most tender of ways. The two you lingered longer than necessary when it came to ‘goodbyes,’ but it was to be expected. 

You smiled to yourself thinking about him as you looked outside the plane window. Your flight was landing soon and you felt your anxiety gnaw at your joints while your hesitancy took a bite of your lungs. When you landed, you felt as though the ligaments in your body rusted over and each breath of air you took never seemed like enough to flow through your system. You took a few more deep breaths to center yourself before getting up to leave the plane. 

You managed to calm yourself down a substantial amount, but you felt it lurk back behind you as a sudden chill traveled up your spine during the taxi ride to Xiaojun’s dorm. It threatened to seize you by the throat, but then you realized, this was Xiaojun you were coming to see. 

The same Xiaojun who cried easily and had a pirate phase through most of his childhood. The same Xiaojun who took long bites in between food and would lose in arm wrestling matches. The same whose voice could reach unknown heights with a dedication and devotion to match. The same Xiaojun who was your best friend since childhood. The same Xiaojun whom you loved.

And with that, whatever haunted you dissipated and you found yourself at the steps of his dorm. You watched as your breath came out in chilly wisps as you knocked on the door. The sound of padded footsteps ambling along hardwood floors were heard and suddenly you were face to Xiaojun after a whole four years without him. 

The two of you took each other in. Video calling did not do Xiaojun justice. He really matured into his features over the years and you couldn’t help, but stare. 

Xiaojun broke the silence first. “Hey, you.” 

“Hey, you yourself,” you breathed.

“Come on, don’t just stand there,” Xiaojun ushered as he helped you grab your luggage. “It’s cold outside.” 

You followed him as he led you to his room. You looked around with curiosity as you passed by. The WayV dorm was cozy, but surprisingly empty, not that you minded. When you got to his door, Xiaojun saw the look on your face and knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Everyone’s out right now,” he explained. “I can formally introduce you to them when they get back.”

You nodded and watched as Xiaojun placed his hand on the door knob, before stopping in hesitation. He looked at you in earnest. “Promise me you won’t laugh, okay?” 

“Nothing can phase me, Xiaojun. I practically lived at your house and vice versa, or did a few years abroad make you forget that already?” You teased.

He gave you a look, but opened the door for you nonetheless. You expected a messy room with random socks strewn on the floor and the desk chair stacked high with a pile of clothes, but what greeted you nearly took your breath away.

The floor was spotless and fairy lights lined the walls and occasionally looped around the floor. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner dimpled with various ornaments of various sheen and sparkles. Xiaojun led you to the center of the room where the various colored fairy lights crossed one another’s path. A mistletoe tied on the fanlight hung overhead. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

Xiaojun smiled as he drew you in closer. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. I really wanted it to be something special. Merry Christmas.” 

You started to tear up as you moved to meet Xiaojun in the middle, “I love you, Xiaojun.” 

You were twenty-one years old when you kissed your best friend. His lips were soft and his tongue sweet. He tasted vaguely of vanilla lip balm and peppermint bark, he tasted like the love of your life. 

When you pull back from the kiss, the adoration in his eyes made you greedy for another, so you dove back in, but not before Xiaojun can let out a quick laugh and a reaffirmation. 

“I love you, too.” 

The two of you kissed and kissed again, under the mistletoe. 

You were twenty-one years old and you were happy.

masterlist.

[yikesharringrove]

His Fault.

Thank you @thinger-strang for the commission! 💕

Read on Ao3

Steve took Max first, grabbing her around the knees and lifting.

He didn’t know which kid was which, just picked them up and shoved them through the hole in the ground.

No thoughts in his head besides getting the kids to safety.

He was still dizzy from the fight, from Max’s wild driving, from being thrown into low oxygen conditions.

He grabbed Dustin.

The last kid to get through.

There was a rumble.

The ground shook.

And Steve stared death right in its face.

A pack of demodogs, heading right for them.

He grabbed Dustin, thought maybe, maybe he could shield him.

If this kid dies, it’s all my fault.

But the ‘dogs passed them by.

On their way to protect from El.

Because their plan didn’t work. Their carefully crafted idea to help El was bullshit.

He pushed Dustin up to safety.

He had brought these kids down here for no reason.

They had all gotten hurt for no reason.

All because of him.

-

Steve’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He was trying to get himself to get up, get out of the car.

Staring through the windshield at the small service.

Barb’s funeral.

The girl that died right outside his house. The girl who died in his pool.

The girl he killed.

By being too preoccupied with Nancy. By being too much of a stupid fucking jock.

It’s all his fault.

He got out of the car, stayed mostly to himself throughout the service.

He hugged Barb’s parents afterwards, offered his condolences.

He got the feeling that they never really liked him.

That’s okay. He doesn't really blame them.

And if they knew, if they knew what he did to their Barb-

They would do more than just not like him.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, thoughts of your fault your fault your fault whipping through his brain.

He killed Barb.

-

Steve was trying to think quickly.

It was a little tricky, what with the pounding in his head, the hits he was taking right to the gut.

He needed to somehow talk his way out of this.

Which sucked because talking has never been his strong point.

But he brought Robin into all of this. He had let Erica climb through those vents to get them into the elevator. He had helped Dustin suss out what the message meant.

Actually, he hadn’t.

He had been too fucking stupid to help with that.

No.

He had just encouraged the translation that was happening around him.

Had just walked three people right into the clutches of the Upside Down, and these violent goddamn Russians, and-

That one hurt.

He woke up sometime later to Robin yelling.

“Hey, will you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh my God! Steve!”

She sounded, actually relieved.

“Are you okay?”

-

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Robin was sitting next to him, both wrapped in thick blankets.

They had their own ambulance, Nancy and Jonathan in the one next door.

He had watched them take Billy off on a gurney, watched them slam a defibrillator to his body until his heart started beating again, watched them load him into the back of an ambulance, and take him off to the hospital.

The adrenaline, the heavy drugs, it was all out of his system.

And he was crashing.

“I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have talked Dustin into translating the tape, I shouldn’t have-”

“Okay, Dingus. Let’s get some things straight. I’m pretty sure Dustin talked you into the translations. I don’t know if you’d be able to talk Dustin into anything. And you didn’t rope me into shit.”

“I mean, I mean with the Upside Down. This whole fucking conspiracy. You deserved to go your whole damn life without knowing any of this.”

“But Steve, I know about it now. The milk has been spilled. So stop crying.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is.

-

“Hi, welcome to Family- Nancy?”

Nancy had stopped in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Steve. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah. You know, with the mall being all, burnt down. And stuff.” She nodded slowly, stock still in the doorway. “Can I help you find something?”

“No. Thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, uh, let me know if you need help. Or ask Robin, maybe. She’s better with the recommends.” Nancy seemed to startle, stepping into the store properly.

“Thanks, Steve.” He smiled tightly at her.

They really hadn’t talked since breaking up.

Of course, they’d spoken in the summer, but that was less exchanging pleasantries, more how do we stop the giant fleshy monster that’s trying to take over the whole world?

Which isn’t quite the same.

She browsed through the aisles, Steve doodling on the carbon pad next to the register.

She smiled tightly at him, a few tapes in hand.

“So, uh, how are you?” They hadn’t spoken since that night. Since he wandered over to her ambulance, checking in with her and Jonathan.

“I’m okay. Just working and stuff. Obviously.”

“And how’s Billy?”

“Managing. He’s in all kindsa therapy and stuff now.”

“That’s, that’s good.” She was all stiff as he handed her her change. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“Yeah, Nancy. Yeah, you too.”

He hated how shitty and awkward that had been.

Hated that she was the person he felt closest to for the better part of a year, and now they’re stuck with light conversation and forced smiles.

He pushed her so hard.

Always poking and poking.

Always too clingy, always too emotional, not emotional enough. Too insensitive, or just too much work.

He doesn’t know how anyone puts up with him.

-

“Hey,” Billy smiled softly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that my little nurse is here.” Steve rolled his eyes, smiling back as he sat on the bed next to Billy.

He had brought him to his house from the military hospital.

Billy still had a long road of healing. His scars were pulled together, and the wounds were closed, but everything was still pretty rough.

“Can I get you anything?” Billy reached over for him.

His hands were scarred and rough, and he was still trying to regain feeling, the nerves having suffered far too much damage.

“Nah. Just sit with me.”

Steve took one of his hands, stretching his hand like the doctor had shown him.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Nah. My stomach’s all outta whack today. Don’t know if I could keep anything down.” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Are you, can I make you something? Soup?”

“Stevie, I’m okay. One day’s not gonna kill me.” It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Something must've shown on his face because Billy was trying to sit up. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“No, I just-”

“It’s okay. Sorry.” Steve tried to gather himself.

“Don’t like jokes about you dying. Thought you were dead for, for like a week, you know. Before they told us you were stable.”

“Baby, it’s alright. I know it was hard on you.” Steve blinked rapidly.

“But I mean, it’s like, youwere the one, the one in the hospital I shouldn’t,” he stood up, Billy wincing as the bed shifted. “I’m gonna make you something.”

He was holding back tears as he spread peanut butter and jelly onto saltine crackers.

Billy had the best luck keeping it down when he felt sick.

He felt like shit whenever he did that. Got all mopey on Billy.

Billy was the one trying not to die in a hospital bed. Steve was just, doing what Steve does.

Making everything about himself.

He brought Billy the plate, kneeling next to him in bed.

“You okay?” Steve just shook his head, plastering on a nice smile for Billy.

“I’m fine, Bill. Just try to eat? For me?”

Billy managed three of the crackers before he heaved into the garbage bin placed next to the bed.

Steve felt like shit.

Billy’s core muscles were still healing, and throwing up only made him sore, made him tired and in pain.

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have made Billy eat. Shouldn’t have tried to make himself feel better by force-feeding Billy while he felt bad.

When he finally stopped, Steve helped him to the bathroom to wash out his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s not your fault.”

“But you said you didn’t feel good.”

“You’re just trying to take care of me.”

Keyword here being trying.

Trying and failing at taking care of Billy.

-

“Steve, are you busy tonight?” Dustin had thrown open the door to Family Video stomping inside.

“I mean, no but I thought, isn’t tonight your big tournament?”

Dustin sighed dramatically.

“The arcade is closed.”

Dustin had been saving up for months, using the end of the summer to mow neighbors’ lawns.

Steve had even paid him to mow his own lawn.

He and the gang were going to rage for hours, Dustin organizing a special secret prize for whoever got the highest cumulative score.

He had put so much thought into everything, had been so excited.

And the arcade was closed.

“Can I talk to Keith?”

“Be my guest.”

Dustin pushed into the backroom.

Steve could hear his voice, could hear him arguing with Keith.

He came back out, Keith following behind.

“Harrington, I told you, customers aren’t allowed in the back.” He pointed to the Employees Only sign on the door. “Can you even read?” Keith rolled his eyes. Steve studied his shoes.

“And Henderson, I told you, the arcade is closed for renovations. A pipe burst in the storeroom.” Dustin Huffed. “Just, rent a movie or something. But you know, don’t ask for Harrington’s recommendation.”

Keith laughed to himself as he retreated to the back.

“Like I would ask you for a recommendation. I know what kind of movies you like.” Steve forced a smile at him.

“Sorry about your game night.” Dustin shrugged.

“I thought it’d be fun. We haven’t played DnD since Will moved. It just feels wrong without him, I guess. I thought this could bring us back to the fun spirit.”

“It’s a good idea. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to postpone.”

Steve just kinda lived with a big ol’ bit in his stomach these days.

But every time something like this happened, something where his friend was sad, and Steve was completely useless to help him, the pit seemed to grow.

He wonders what happens when the pit gets too big.

-

Billy stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly.

“You okay?”

Billy blew out a breath, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah. Just cold. It hurts.” They were standing outside, waiting for the kids to be finished with school.

Steve drove Dustin and Max home, usually brought Billy along with him.

Neil had been one of the flayed, the only casualty Billy said he didn’t feel bad for.

So Max had moved with her mom into a tiny two-bedroom house.

Billy was still staying with Steve for the time being.

“Oh! I got a sweater in my trunk.” Steve ran around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk and digging through.

He kept his car pretty clean, just his bat, some jumper cables, and a go-bag.

So he should see the sweater right away.

But he didn’t.

He frantically shifted everything around.

“No, no.”

The sweater wasn’t there.

“Fuck are you, are you serious?”

He genuinely could cry.

Billy was blowing into his hands, rubbing them together when Steve slumped back over to him.

“Billy, I’m sorry. It’s not in there.” Billy squinted at him.

“That’s okay.”

“I thought it was, but I must’ve taken it out, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just, you know, come here and make it up to me.” He had a lazy smile on his face. “Come keep me warm.”

Steve wrapped himself around Billy, burying his face in his neck.

“I wish I could keep you warmer. I wish I had that sweater.”

“Baby, I’m okay. Just achy.”

Steve made sure to turn up the heat full blast when they got back in, the kids in the backseat.

-

“Fuck!”

The bottom of the box had given out, tapes crashing to the tiled floor.

He had been on his way to reshelve everything, after spending all day in the back rewinding.

But here he was, checking each plastic tape for cracks as he tried to find something else to put them in.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Ah, yes. That’s what he needs right now. Keith standing over him while he cleaned up the mess of tapes.

“What’d you do now?”

“The box, it just fell apart.”

“You know, Robin really went out on a limb to you to get this job.” Keith was standing over him, staring down at Steve sill kneeling on the ground. “Maybe I should just fire you both.”

“Wait, no!”

Steve’s heart was in his throat.

It felt like he was gonna choke on it.

“You, you can’t, I don’t care if you hate me, okay, just, just don’t fire Robin!”

Keith loved to do this. Dangle his measly power as manager over Steve.

Robin said it was some kind of revenge fantasy for how shitty Steve was to him in high school.

Steve just figures he deserves it.

Bottom of the food chain now. That’s where he is.

The guy that thought he was the hottest shit to walk the Earth. The guy that barely graduated. The guy that had to linger around his hometown. The guy has no life. The guy that has no future.

“Why not? She vouched for you.” Keith was eating a pack of M&Ms, crunching each one loudly between his teeth.

“Just, just don’t.” Steve felt like he could cry.

“Then get this cleaned up, and I’ll consider letting you both stay.”

Steve just nodded.

He didn’t think his voice would work without cracking all over the place.

He found a crate in the stockroom, stacking the tapes as quickly as he could.

He liked reshelving.

The organization system made sense, and he could do it easily without having to know anything about the movies, without having to know anything besides the alphabet, and the genre sticker each tape had.

Robin was better with customers.

Better at making change and recommending movies. Better at talking to people without sounding like an idiot.

But he finished reshelving, and had to retreat behind the counter.

“You’re being weird today.”

Steve had zoned out, staring through the front windows.

“Sorry.”

“Bad night?” he just nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about Keith’s little threat. She would just go on a rampage. Probably yell at him a lot. And if Steve being a fuck up didn’t get her fired, defending him for sure would. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie. Most nights are bad. “Steve, are you sure you’re okay? It feels like,” she glanced around. “It feels like you’re getting, like, worse.”

“Sorry.” She furrowed her brows.

“That’s not something you need to apologize for, you know that, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Her face pinched up even more.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, I, just you know. Not sleeping much.”

“I could come over? You said it’s better when there’s sound in your house. I can stomp around for a while.” He huffed a laugh through his nose, giving her the biggest smile he could muster.

“That’s okay. I’m managing, Rob.” She raised one eyebrow. “And besides, I, uh, I won’t be home tonight.”

She made a face at him, pursing her lips so she didn’t smile.

Billy had gotten his own apartment with the money the government had given him, a little thank you for your discretion gift when he was released from the hospital.

He had spent nearly a month in a coma, a month in which Steve had only left his room a handful of times. After waking up, delirious, and in pain, he had spent the next six months in heavy rehabilitation, in daily therapy, both mental and physical, in which Steve practically lived at the hospital with him.

They had bonded more than Robin could ever know, both boys spilling everything to one another, every dark thought, every bad memory.

Long story short, they were inseparable.

“Then have a fun night. And talk to Billy. Tell him you’re struggling.”

“I’m not-”

She stomped her foot, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Shit.”

Steve knew he had a key to Billy’s apartment.

But it wasn’t on his key ring.

“Are you kidding me?” He knocked on the door.

It took Billy a few minutes to come get him.

“I’m sorry, I, I lost my key.” Billy looked tired . It was Thursday. Billy was a stockboy at Meldvald’s on Thursdays. His doctor said getting a job would be nice, that it would help him rejoin society, make him feel good to support himself, all this shit.

Mostly, it just made Billy’s sore.

“It’s okay.”

“No, but, it’s not on my ring! I don’t know where it fell off, it could be anywhere, you might have to change the locks or-”

“Steve! It’s fine. Just get in here.”

Steve snapped his jaw closed. Billy shuffled back to the couch, groaning as he sat down slowly.

“Can I get you something? Have you eaten? I can rub your back if-”

“Harrington, just come sit with me.” Billy was giving him a little half-smile.

Steve stumbled over to the couch, and tucked himself right under Billy’s arm.

“What are we watching?”

“Some soap. There’s been a marathon all evening. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve leaned his head against Billy.

He had no clue what was going on. Had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask about the plot points, the characters.

But he’s bothered Billy enough tonight, making him get up to open the door, always, always bothering-

“Hey, where’d you go?” Billy was stroking one rough hand through his hair.

“Nowhere.”

“Robin called me from the video store.” Steve sighed, burying his face into Billy’s neck. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you’re always okay.” He said it like he was mad, like he was frustrated with Steve.

He pulled back, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Billy was staring blankly at him. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad. What are you even-” he cut himself off. “Steve, talk to me. You’re getting, distant.”

“I’m-”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I-” Steve’s throat was closing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy shifted stiffly, reaching out for Steve’s hand.

“Talk to me, Baby. You know I’ll listen.”

“I, uh, I just.” His jaw was moving, but he couldn’t form any words.

Billy took his hands, pulling him gently.

Steve let himself be tugged, let himself fall into Billy’s lap.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of it.”

“Can you, maybe elaborate?”

“Everything. It’s all my fault.” His chest felt pulled tight, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. “Everything, everything. My fault.”

Billy had no fucking idea what to do.

Steve was breathing sharply, his eyes squeezed closed.

He had both hands in his hair, pulling roughly.

“Steve, hey.” He took his wrists, trying to stop him. “Steve, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” Steve shook his head.

“Just, just try to take as deep a breath as you can, okay?”

Billy was trying to remember what his shrink had told him, the tips for dealing with his own panic.

But watching Steve fall apart, well. It was hard for Billy to keep it together.

He sat with Steve, holding his hands until he opened his eyes, until he was breathing without Billy reminding him to do it.

“Steve. Sugar. Talk to me.”

Steve was still slumped over, still had his head in Billy’s lap.

He turned to bury his face in Billy’s thigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is crushing me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Can you explain that to me? You said everything was your fault.”

“Like, like Barb. She, it was my fault she died, and my fault the kids almost got hurt in the tunnels, and my fault that Dustin and Robin and Erica got stuck in the lab, and, and, and I’m so bad at taking care of you. I can’t do anything right.”

Billy could feel his tears, wet patches soaking through his sweatpants.

“You do a lot of stuff right!”

“Keith told me he was gonna fire Robin today, because I messed up again.”

“Fuck Keith. No way that creep has firing power. And maybe you should talk to Robin. Or go to your boss about him. He just likes going on a power trip with you.

“And as for, well everything, Pretty Boy, none of that was your fault. Barb was killed by, by a monster-”

“At my house, at my party, in my pool.”

“Still not your fault.”

“I thought she had left, you know? I didn’t know she was out there.”

“That just proves my point! You didn’t know she was out there, you didn’t know what was going to happen. That whole event , it had nothing to do with you. And the kids like, fully kidnapped you to bring you to the tunnels. If anything, that’s my fault for, you know. Doing what I did.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“I know a lot about guilt. I know how it feels like you’re just, you’re drowning. And you’re never gonna get to the surface, but that, that stuff. People make their own choices. You can’t control what other people do, you can just control what you do. And you, you do nothing but good. You just love, and you love, and you love. You always do what you think is best, and that’s what matters.”

“I feel bad all that time. Like, like right now I feel bad because, because of course you feel guilty, and I’m saying shit that doesn’t matter, and my problems they don’t-”

“Don’t you dare say your problems don't matter.” Billy was tangling his fingers through Steve’s hair, playing with it gently. “Your problems matter . They matter to me. It hurts me that you're struggling. It hurts me that I didn’t notice.”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. You take my guilt and you ease it. And that’s what I want for you.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still curled up on the couch, still had his face pressed against Billy’s leg.

“I don’t know how. I’ve been so thoroughly crushed under all this that I’m scared of what happens if I claw through it all.”

“Maybe you won’t feel like shit all the time.”

“Feeling like shit is the easy part. It’s predictable.”

“I know. It’s safe .”

“Yeah. What do people even think about if they aren’t thinking about all the problems of the people closest to them and finding ways to blame themselves?” Billy laughed at that. Steve could feel his belly moving next to him.

It was a nice moment.

“I don’t know. That’s what movies and books are for. When you’ve got shit else to think about because you’re not trapped under a mountain of guilt.”

“Probably why I’ve read so few books, then.”

“We need to start watching more movies.”

-

“We need to talk about Steve.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s great to see you. How’s your day?” Robin rolled her eyes. She was leaned over the counter at Family Video, flicking through a magazine.

“He had a break down last night.”

“Finally. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks,”

“Yeah, try years.” She looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“He like, unloaded fully. He still blames himself for the girl that got killed in his backyard.”

“Wait, he thinks that’s his fault?”

“Yeah, and the kids in the tunnels, and also you and Dustin and Erica being brought into the whole mess. And also that he’s bad at taking care of me? Which, don’t know how he got that one. He does a really fucking good job taking care of me.”

“Jesus. He’s like, stressed.”

“To put it lightly.”

“So, what’s up? Where do I come in?”

“I’m planning an evening. A We Love Steve Harrington party.”

“I can be snack duty.” He smiled at her, clapping her on the shoulder. “It just us?”

“Yeah. I figured to leave the kids out of this one.”

“Good choice.”

“Be over at seven.” She nodded once, giving him a two-finger salute.

-

Steve was curled up, Billy spooned up behind him when there was a knock on the door.

“Go get that, will you? I’m all stiff.” Steve turned around, looking at Billy all concerned. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Billy had to shove him away before he finally went to answer the door.

“Oh, Robin, uh, hey.” She pushed one of her shopping bags into his arms.

“I was invited for an evening of bolstering you up.”

Billy came lumbering in, throwing himself down on the couch.

“I, don’t get it.”

“Robin’s here because you need some lovin’.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s really nice.”

“You deserve it.” Billy was looking at him seriously.

Steve tucked himself into Billy’s side, Robin shoving herself next to him on the little couch.

Billy had pulled out all his lumpy blankets, and they had already torn into a box of cookies.

Steve was all warm.

Curled up in the blankets, watching The Aristocats.

“Thank you, guys. For this. It means a lot.”

“Can it, Dingus. Thomas O’Malley’s gonna sing.”

[candychronicles]

fall festival // r. tanaka

A/N: this is my take on the autumn/fall themed Haikyuu HQ server collab! this is also my first time ever writing for HQ so of course it had to be for the absolute loml Tanaka!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Tanaka Ryuunosuke x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,359 

WARNINGS: some mild angst, jealousy, crying

SYNOPSIS: what was supposed to be a fun day filled with apple picking and hayrides turned into a disaster. will anything ever get better?

Want to read more fall themed treats? Head on over to the masterlist!

the soft crunching of leaves underneath your feet could only barely be heard as you walked shyly next to Tanaka. wispy puffs of hot air left your mouth and curled up into the air, leaving a trail of smoke in your wake. he was talking animatedly next to Nishinoya, hands waving around in the air to emphasize his point, going as far as to jab his hands accidentally into the side of your head. you winced slightly, rubbing your now tender temple delicately, but he only muttered a mild apology before continuing to talk, yet the corners of your mouth still turned up in an amused smile, simply happy that he was happy.

it was only when you arrived at your destination did you break your quiet stupor, squealing and clapping your hands excitedly, even being as bold as to grab the bald headed boys hand in a gesture of elation as you raced towards the line. as quickly as you grasped him you let go, your confidence now gone as you settled back into a normal state of mind, but he seemed to pay no mind, only chuckling at your enthusiasm and motioning to Noya to join you two in line. 

“you’re quite excited, aren’t you?” came the teasing yet chipper voice of your short best friend.

“yeah, yeah. i just like fall, okay? this is supposed to be a fun day, so why wouldn’t i be excited?” you replied, sticking your tongue out at him and laughing.

Tanaka joined in on Noya’s teasing, placing his hand on your head and ruffling your hair. despite the familiar gesture, your cheeks still heated up in embarrassment and something else, which did not go unnoticed. Noya smirked knowingly at you, but you only shook your head at him before fixing your hair and swatting Tanaka affectionately on the arm, which he barely even noticed as his eyes were glued on the sight of a very pretty girl who was handling the tickets. immediately, your mood soured, and your eyes shifted down to the ground, scuffing along as the line quickly moved up.

“three all-pass tickets please,” you politely requested, exchanging money with a smile despite the knots of jealousy that tickled your stomach every time you looked at her doe-like eyes.

“wow, you think i should try to get her number later?” Tanaka asked breathlessly as he followed you into the farm festival, Noya responding with a joke, trying to lighten the tension that had settled from you.

“let’s go shopping and fruit picking last so we don’t have to carry our bags around everywhere. do you want to try the maze first or the hayride?” you cut in, not wanting to hear anymore about the girl but also not wanting to sound insensitive.

“the maze!” the boys replied in unison, racing off towards the front of the structure, leaving you to trail behind with a disappointed sigh, already not wanting to be here despite your excitement only moments before.

the maze took longer than you’d like to admit as the boys kept arguing on which way to go and kept getting everyone lost several times. finally, you took charge, grabbing them by their jackets and dragging them along until they were safely out on the other side.

“wow, we definitely would’ve been lost forever if it hadn’t been for you. thanks!” they choursed once again, nodding their heads animatedly before running off towards the hayride, leaving you yet again to follow after them.

you groaned in frustration when you realized it was the same pretty girl from earlier now on the hayride as the guide. she smiled widely when she noticed the three of you, greeting you all with a wide flourish of her arms, helping you up onto the trailer, hands lingering on Tanaka’s arm just a moment too long for it to be casual.

this is usually your favorite part of any festival: the rattling sound of the tractor, the gentle crisp breeze on your face, the scratchy hay underneath your body, the sights and smells of the orchard and farm, but instead your hands bundled into the straw beneath you so tight they left red scratches in your palms, teeth clenched as you listened to Tanaka and Noya flirt with the pretty girl the whole ride. her giggles rattled in your brain, a strong reminder that she was enjoying their company immensely. you resolved to simply watch the scenery roll by, body turned away from the boys, as you tried to enjoy the ride as best as possible.

you didn’t mean to fall in love with one of your best friends. you wished it never would’ve happened, but here you were, madly infatuated with Tanaka Ryuunosuke. it started off as an odd friendship, the pair approaching you one day for some help on math homework. after that, it became a comfortable situation, you often helping them with schoolwork, going to the occasional practice and of course any games you could. in exchange, they protected you from any and all harm, whether that was from an outside force or you beating yourself up on a bad day. little did you know one of them would be the one causing you harm after not too long. 

you realized you started falling for him during one of their practice matches back in high school. though that time was long gone, you now all in college, it felt like yesterday. seeing him so focused and dedicated during the game, you finally understood how much he did for you despite dedicating his whole being to the sport. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside knowing how much he cared about you, more so than Noya at times. while Noya knew everything about you, Tanaka understood everything about you, was there for you always, no questions asked, and helped you through more than one hard situation. you didn’t know how to explain it, you just knew that he was the one for you.

“hey, you coming?” you heard Tanaka’s voice, hand outstretched as he motioned to the now stopped tractor.

you stood up, ignoring his offer for help, before jumping off the trailer, also ignoring the help of the girl that had managed to catch the attention, and the hearts, of both boys.

“let’s go pumpkin picking next?” you finally spoke, turning around with the best smile that you could muster.

“i think we’re going to stay here for a minute. catch up with you later?” Tanaka asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. 

before Noya had a chance to argue, you had already spun on your heels, walking towards the direction of the pumpkins, finding a secluded spot behind a tree and unceremoniously plopping down, letting yourself finally break as you cried for the first time that day. 

it was only a few minutes before someone spotted you, glancing around curiously before they approached you with a frown.

“hey, uh, not trying to bother you or anything, but are you okay?” the strange guy asked, crouching down to get level with your face.

you sniffled and rubbed your face against your sweater before looking up with glossy eyes, replying, “yeah, just boy drama. i’ll be fine, thank you for your concern.”

“do you want to be alone, or do you want some company? i’m here with a group of friends but they disappeared and i don’t really want to be alone. we could pick some pumpkins and apples, maybe browse the shops a bit? only if you want, i mean.”

you nodded your head in agreement before picking yourself up off the ground, exchanging names before laughing at the ludicracy of the situation. 

the next hour had been spent picking out the perfect pumpkin and a bushel of apples, chatting as if you had been friends forever. there was a comfortable feeling between the two of you, as if you had both shared something that was meant for no one else, something that only the two of you could understand with any real clarity. 

it was only when you were walking around the vendors, sniffing candles, taste testing pies, cookies and cakes, looking at all the various trinkets and decorations, that the day was ruined once again.

“hey punk, who do you think you are?” you heard the angry voice of Tanaka.

before he had a chance to cause any real damage, you stepped in front of your new friend, calmly explaining who he was.

“that doesn’t explain why he’s here doing everything with you that we were supposed to do with you,” he argued once more, stepping forward so that you were practically nose to nose, challenging you to step down.

however, for once in your life, you didn’t relent to his overprotective nature, instead choosing to jab him in the chest, angrily muttering at him.

“you were the one who ditched me for some girl that you didn’t even know. don’t get all high and mighty with me now. i was supposed to be doing this with you two but you guys were nowhere to be found and i wasn’t going to spend the last hour crying alone in the pumpkin patch.”

“you were crying?” he asked, but before you got a chance to respond, Noya came out from behind Tanaka and sprung a hug on you, holding tight and rocking back and forth.

“where have you been? Tanaka and I have been looking for you for almost an hour!”

“i-i thought you two were going to be talking to that girl for awhile so i went ahead and did everything with my new friend. why did you leave so soon?”

“we talked for awhile but she asked us to stay longer, specifically Tanaka, but he said he was with you and we left to go searching for you, only to find out that you had left with some guy. what the hell?”

“you guys are forgetting you ditched me first. you don’t really have a right to get mad at me,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms angrily as you eyed both of them.

before anything else could’ve been done, a group of people waved your way and you realized that your friend had found his group again.

“hey thanks for hanging but i’m going to go rejoin them now. you have my number, definitely text me if you ever want to hang!” he said with a smile before waving and racing over to join his circle again.

“like hell she’d ever hang out with you again!” Tanaka screeched after him, his forehead pulsing in anger.

“actually, i would. he was very nice and good company, something that i needed today.”

“pssh, what, you like him or something? going to go out on a date? like hell i’d let that happen.”

“i’m not a kid anymore Ryuu, you can’t tell me what to do. i can date who i’d like when i like. why would it matter to you, anyways?”

“i’m supposed to protect you, we both are. why would i let you get with some guy like that?”

“and who am i supposed to get with? someone like you? someone who flirts with every girl he lands his eyes on despite having someone right in front of him that’s loved him for years?” you challenged back, not even caring about outing yourself at this point, anger boiling in your chest, nostrils flared and eyes narrowed in disappointment.

when he didn’t respond, his own eyes wide and mouth gaping open like a fish out of water, did you scoff, turning your back and walking towards the next vendor, head shaking in disappointment. 

“man, what are you doing? this is your chance! the girl you’ve loved for years just confessed her feelings and you’re letting her walk away! what are you, an idiot?” Noya yelled, smacking Tanaka on the back of the head before pushing him towards you.

you felt a body collide with yours and you turned around to find Tanaka pressed against you. before you even had a chance to yell at him, his hands were on your face and lips were pressed against yours in a feverish and desperate dream.

“i thought you were joking or that i was delirious. i did not think i heard you right at all but Noya said i did so i just came out and kissed you without thinking about it. i hope you didn’t mind because i really want to do it again,” he said breathlessly against your lips, eyes still shut from the kiss.

you blinked owlishly at him, unsure of how to respond, before throwing all caution to the wind and pressing your lips against his once more, this time winding your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss.

“so i wasn’t hearing things, huh? does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” he joked, finally pulling away to look at you, really look at you, eyes wide in surprise and adoration.

“no you dork. i’m surprised you didn’t figure out anything sooner. Noya can barely keep his mouth shut around you, teasing me like crazy. and of course i’ll be your girlfriend, i can’t believe you’d even ask after a kiss like that.”

“hey lovebirds, congrats! i’m glad you finally got together after what felt like a million years. please don’t make it awkward though, you two are my best friends and i’d hate for me to be the third wheel all the time,” Noya half-joked, walking up to you two and slapping you both on the backs.

you and Tanaka smiled devilishly at each other before each planting a big kiss on Noya’s cheek, laughing when his face lit up and he scrubbed furiously at the skin, muttering about how gross you both were and how he was going to get you back for that.

at that moment in time though, nothing else mattered. you had your best friends, one who was now your boyfriend, your pumpkins, and the crisp autumn air that carried the weight of the world off your shoulders and into the darkening night, never to be worried about again. 

[goodlucktai]

it’s a better place since you came along

the adventure zone taako & angus mcdonald 7k words

read on ao3

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

***

In which Taako answers a general “help wanted” ad that actually changes his entire stupid life.

x

There’s a baby crying somewhere.

Taako, left waiting in the foyer by a harried maid, has nothing else to do but tap a foot, twist one of the rings on one of his fingers, and count the long seconds that the plaintive wail continues to echo through the cavernous house.

Listen, he may not be a very good dude, just in general, and for a healthy plethora of reasons—but there’s a prickling sense of unease growing in the pit of his stomach, as one minute passes into two, and the sounds of distress go unheeded.

What in the fresh fuck, he thinks, when another member of the house staff drifts through the room without any sense of urgency. If he knew shit about magic beyond a few travel-handy tricks and the occasional intuitive transmutation, he’d assume this was some sort of elaborate illusion. Maybe a sort of test played on unsuspecting hopefuls who came to answer the help-wanted ad.

Unfortunately for Taako, he remembers all-too well what it feels like to be an unwanted child, outcast and always alone. As it turns out, he has a very particular Achilles’ heel and he’s not overly thrilled to discover it.

“Well, I didn’t need the job that bad,” he tells himself, as he gets up to single-mindedly fail this stupid test. And nevermind that he kind of really did.

‘Confidence is key’ and ‘fake it till you make it’ are two mantras that Taako could live and die by, so it’s with long, unchecked strides that he crosses the grand foyer and chases the miserable cries up some stairs, down a long corridor, and finally into an out-of-the-way bedchamber at what must have been the back of the house.

The cries stutter when the door clicks open, and Taako gets a glimpse of a tiny round face peering at him through the bars of an ancient-looking crib. The sudden appearance of this strange elf in his nursery seems to have surprised the little human, but not for long. After about two seconds, he screws his face up and screams with renewed vindication.

Taako winces, his sensitive ears twitching back at the onslaught. This is way above his paygrade, but he used to babysit younger kids in the caravans while their parents were busy or drunk, in exchange for a hot meal or a few coins. He’s not totally out of his depth here.

“Hey, little man,” he says by way of hello. “Trying to bring the roof down, huh? No, I dig that. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but this house of yours is ugly as hell.”

Taako doesn’t raise his voice, because what the hell would be the point? There’s no way he’s winning that contest of wills, and nobody wants some lunatic shouting at them when they’re this fucking distraught, anyway. He just crosses his arms on the side of the crib and leans down to get a good look at the kid.

The baby’s face is tacky and snotty, dusky skin flushed darker with exertion, curly hair a tangled mop. But he’s a cute little guy despite himself, probably a year old or thereabouts, not that Taako is in any way a decent judge of that sort of thing. As Taako talks to him in a conversational tone, his awful, heaving sobs peter out.

The tearful gulps are better. The way he lifts pudgy arms up to be held, not so much.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Taako says, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. “I’m not even supposed to be in here. You have no idea how culturally insensitive people are when it comes to elves and babies. Your mama walks in and sees me holding you, and then she’s calling the guard, and I’m getting hauled off for attempting to spirit her little heir away, and we both perpetuate an archaic myth that all elves are equally capable of and greedy for voluntary childcare. Let me just say—from personal experience—that is not the fuckin' case.”

But he reaches a hand into the crib and lets the little human clutch at it. Tiny, clumsy fingers wrap around Taako’s much bigger ones and hold tight. The baby’s eyes are wide and curious now, soaking up Taako’s every word without a damn clue what any of them mean.

Taako almost forgot he knew how to do this. It’s been months since Glamour Springs, since Sazed ditched him on the road. Taako’s been living a half-life, made up of odd jobs and never staying for too long in any one place, and for all that it’s absurdly one-sided, this is the longest conversation he’s had since then, too.

“One of us is pretty fucking pathetic,” he confides. “And it’s not the screamy baby.”

“Ah, this is where you’ve gone,” a voice from the doorway says.

Taako jumps in alarm, and looks around in time to watch a man step into the nursery. He bears a striking resemblance to the baby in the crib, though he’s graying at the temples and his face is lined with too much age for him to be an immediate parent. Grandparent, probably. Distinguished, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than the entire cumulative worth of everything Taako currently owns, leaning heavily on a walking cane.

He doesn’t look as though he’s about to ring the alarm, but Taako is still a little keyed up. Given the way he’s been living, the feeling of getting caught, even for a moment, activates his fight or flight response.

“Sorry,” Taako says lamely. “I heard him crying.”

“I don’t doubt it. His parents, my daughter and her husband, died recently. An accident on the road,” the man says. There’s some sorrow there, but it’s pushed back and away. Compartmentalized. “He came to live with me, but the transition hasn’t been an easy one. It seems as though all he’s done is cry.”

Taako doesn’t melt even slightly for the poor kid, because he’s made of sterner stuff than that. But he does let him hold onto his hand for a little while longer. It’s not hurting anything.

“So, you must be here about the job,” the old man goes on. “To tell you the truth, I’d just about given up on finding a decent nanny. When can you start?”

Taako stares at him. There’s an alarm klaxon blaring in the back of his brain, along with a shrill inner voice advising him to “abort, motherfucker, abort!”

It wasn’t a nanny ad. It was just a ‘general help wanted in exchange for room and board’ type of deal. He wouldn’t have shown up to take the job in the first place if it had specified providing 1) cooking, 2) companionship, or 3) childcare, and that’s for damn sure. He believes in playing to his strengths, and while vapid charm is certainly one of them, being personable and likable for any extended period of time is not.

And Taako absolutely doesn’t know what to think of this old rich guy who seems to be operating under the illusion that thirty seconds is plenty of time to get enough of a read on some rando to then trust your child to them. For real, and from the bottom of Taako's heart, what the fuck?

He’s only been acquainted with this particular child for about five minutes, but his ears go back and his hackles go up at the idea of someone just walking in off the street to take charge of him.

Maybe there’s some crucial insanity element to parenthood that Taako just isn’t fucking picking up. Maybe total and complete willingness to just ditch your kid at a moment’s notice is part of the package. Sure would explain a few things about Taako’s childhood.

But… this old manor house is clearly in the middle of nowhere. Two hours from the nearest settlement, where the job posting was hiding beneath other flyers on the board in the square. Taako wandered the woods all afternoon and almost gave up finding the place before the chimney smoke tipped him off.

It’s remote. Safe. And, at a glance, more comfortable than any of the inns and caravans Taako has lived out of since his auntie died.

He’s not qualified for this position, but since when has that ever stopped him? It’s not like he went to culinary school, either, and for awhile he was one of the most famous chefs on the continent. A baby can't be that much work.

Fake it till you make it, he thinks, and then faces the old man with a smile.

“Hell, I’m already here. Might as well start now.”

#

Aside from Taako, there are three other members of staff on the books, and none of them are full-time. The maids come in every other day to do the cleaning and the laundry and bring in groceries, that sort of thing. The groundskeeper only works the weekends.

They like Mr McDonald well enough, the girls confide in Taako over tea on his first night there, and the pay isn’t bad, but he’s forgetful. Doesn’t think to eat until he feels hunger pains, that sort of thing. Don’t be surprised if you get paid twice some weeks, or not at all others.

“He’s just not interested in running a household, I think,” the older of the two imparts, ancient at seventeen for all the weariness in her eyes. “I’m glad he finally found someone to take care of the baby. I felt bad about him crying all the time.”

Baby Angus had seemed to surprise both teens by being agreeable and downright adorable, perfectly content to be tucked into the crook of Taako’s arm and soothed to sleep by the rumble of his voice.

Did any of you try, like, holding him? Taako wants to ask acidly. Seems a little fucked up that Taako, of all people, is more on top of this than anyone else. But the maids are little more than kids themselves, and it seems as though grandpa isn’t completely with it.

About a month after Taako first wandered in, grandpa proves it.

“It was before Angus was born,” Mr McDonald says, digging through the many drawers in his study, looking for some expensive rich person thing he’d acquired at auction four years ago. There’s an empty crystal tumbler sitting on the liquor cabinet, next to a half-empty decanter of whiskey. “We went to Goldcliff for a charity fundraiser. Marquis proposed to my daughter that night. You remember, Taako?”

Taako, halfheartedly poking through stuff on the desk while Angus chews on the end of his braid, replies, “Sure do, homie. Hell of a party.”

He finds a photo in a stack of letters and pauses. Two humans are pictured with their arms around each other, handsome smiles on their faces for the camera, a baby cradled tenderly between them.

At the bottom, in looping handwriting, someone wrote ‘Marquis, Angela, and Angus.’ There’s a little heart drawn under the names with such care that it, in itself, is something of a revelation.

Angus’ parents wouldn’t have let him cry himself sick in a faraway room. They wouldn’t have let some stranger be holding him now. They abandoned him, but not on purpose. Not the same way Taako’s family did.

This kid was loved. He’s due love. And all he has is an absent grandpa and a shitty elf looking after him.

“Check it out, Ango,” Taako says quietly, holding the photo up so the baby can see, carefully out of reach of those sticky fingers. “Your genes are killer. You’re gonna outshine the whole damn world.”

He pockets the photo with a sleight of hand he perfected at ten years old, and then guts some ugly painting in the service hallway in the name of repurposing the frame, and then he and Angus stage a tactical retreat.

The nursery was too depressing, just in general, so one of Taako’s first acts as nanny was to move all the baby stuff in with his. He had his pick of any of the second floor bedchambers, and he chose one overlooking the overgrown gardens, with a pretty bay window that it only took like two hours and a handful of stubborn Prestidigitations to scrub clean.

He enlarges the photo, slides it into the frame, transmutes it to look like a more professional job, and then sets it in place of pride on one of the empty shelves.

“Gang’s all here,” he says. He bounces Angus a few times, eliciting a toothy smile from the kid.

Lordy, Taako thinks, she’d be laughing her ass off if she could see me right now.

The thought comes out of absolutely nowhere and disappears just as quickly, sliding right out of his mind like water through a sieve. Then Angus makes a sudden dive to grab one of the charms hanging off the brim of Taako’s hat, and he has more immediate things to worry about.  

#

Living in a house is weird. Having the run of the place is even weirder.

Taako is certainly not the type to sign up for extra responsibility, and he’d be the first to say as much to literally anyone who asked. Keeping himself alive has always been trouble enough, and now he has a whole ass extra person he’s in charge of, too.

But as time drags on, he realizes he’s been pretty solidly assimilated.

When McDonald forgets to give Catherine the grocery allowance before he fucks off on one of his bi-monthly business trips to Neverwinter, Taako forks over his own gold without feeling the sting of it too badly. He practically writes his own checks around here, anyway. He can make up the difference whenever.

When crotchety old Boniface came in from the gardens looking for an answer about the freshly broken fountain, he bypasses McDonald’s closed office door entirely to demand guidance out of Taako instead. Taako is in the library, laying on his stomach to supervise Angus’ painstaking and artistic destruction of a probably priceless but unfortunately racist oral history Taako found on one of the shelves, and gives Boniface the go-ahead to gut the old eyesore.

“If it dies, it dies,” Taako says plainly, passing Angus a new red crayon. Boniface, pleased that he’s allowed to demolish something, makes it a point to ask Taako about these things first from then on.

When Ezra shows up in Taako’s suite one morning with tearful eyes and an ugly burn from the temperamental furnace in the basement, neither of them stop to question why she ran all the way up here. They’re both reasonably intelligent people, after all, and Taako is quick to cast a nonverbal Helping Hand. He doesn’t need to overthink it. The burned skin on Ezra’s arm is shiny and red, but repaired.

The girl surges forward to hug him, visibly rethinks it, and then changes course and scoops Angus up for a hug and a noisy kiss on the cheek instead. Angus shrieks in bald delight, and Taako finds himself smiling.

So, yeah. It’s weird, the whole thing is weird, but he wouldn’t say it’s bad.

McDonald is a kind but largely absent presence in their lives. When he’s home, he’s shut up in his study. Angus hardly seems to recognize the man anymore, only watching him with solemn brown eyes from the comforting circle of Taako’s arms. It doesn’t really sit well with Taako—he didn’t take this job to upstage any relatives or be a replacement parent—but he’s already nanny to a precocious two-year-old, he can’t also be nanny to a seventy-something-year-old retired scholar. If McDonald wants to be a part of Angus’ life, that’s on him. It can’t possibly fall on Taako’s shoulders.

“And even if it did, I have a bad back,” Taako informs Angus. “You’ll have to do the heavy-lifting for me, sweetpea. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, Taako,” Angus says gravely. If there’s a tiny part of Taako that’s fucking delighted every time this tiny miracle says his name, he squashes it down good and hard and no one is the wiser.

It feels a little bit like nothing exists outside this spacious manor house. The extensive grounds might as well be a magic barrier between Taako and the rest of the world. It won’t last—nothing good ever does—but for now he allows himself to pretend that it will.

#

Taako and his little shadow swing into the kitchen around noon one day to find Catherine in tears.

This is so far from the norm that Taako actually draws up short in the doorway. Angus toddles right into the back of his leg, loses his balance, and plops down hard on his padded bottom.

“What’s this all about, darling?” Taako asks warily.

Catherine is sharp in all the places Ezra is soft, and while it makes her much easier to understand—a girl after Taako’s own black, shriveled heart—it also makes her approximately one million times more difficult to comfort, as likely to bite at a helping hand as accept one.

At the first sign of her vicious temper, he’s gonna grab his kid and bail. There’s fruit and bread in the larder that’ll see them through to dinner, and if not, he's not above bribing Ezra to run interference.

But Catherine just lifts her head out of her hands and says, “I burnt the stupid soup!”

Taako blinks. He stands still so Angus can use one of his legs as leverage to pull himself back upright, and cups the back of the boy's head in silent praise when he manages it on his own.

“Okay,” Taako says slowly. He can piece this shit together. “The soup is burnt. And you’re cheesed about it because…you feel really strongly about soup.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she snaps, but it’s without any real heat. “I just. I can’t get anything right today.”

Ah. Okay. So it’s one of those.

He hesitates for a moment, and then leans down to scoop Angus up and balances him on a hip. Angus knows not to toddle into the kitchen unsupervised, and rarely gets to toddle in at all when there’s cookery going on.

Taako himself rarely goes in. It feels too much like tempting fate. But his feet carry him forward, and he leans over the pot of thick and creamy chicken and dumplings, and right away he can smell the problem. It caught on the bottom of the pot and scorched.

He’s never worked in this kitchen—and he never will—but he remembers the steps. It’s mise en place. He reaches into the spice cabinet and withdraws a small tin shaker.

“Cinnamon,” he says at length, offering the tin to Catherine.

She stares at him, losing some of her steel for a moment. “Really?”

“Really,” Taako says, and firmly steps back. The six-second exchange has left him feeling tense and sick, his appetite fully and completely fucking out of the picture.

Angus is a perceptive little monster, and settles more heavily into Taako’s arms. He heaves a very pointed sigh, something he started doing to communicate that he’s feeling particularly safe and content. It makes Taako’s chest hurt in a much different way than impending panic attacks tend to, and he presses a kiss to the kid’s curly head.

“Thanks, angel,” he says.

“You’re welcome.”

“Holy shit, Taako,” Catherine says, looking up from the soup with awe in her eyes. As he watches, she tries another spoonful, and then she actually laughs out loud. “It worked!”

He finds himself searching her face for—sickness. Shortness of breath. Something.

It’s stupid. The people he killed in Glamour Springs didn’t show signs of death for days.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” Catherine goes on. “Could you teach me?”

“I don’t,” Taako blurts. It comes out sharper than he meant for it to, sudden and a little bit too loud. Catherine’s smile tapers. Angus lifts his head off Taako’s shoulder. Breathe, idiot, Taako tells himself. Be a fucking person for two seconds. “Cook, I mean. I don’t cook. Or, uh, teach. I’m kind of useless. Pretty, though.”

He flips his hair. It makes Angus giggle, but Catherine isn’t an easily-amused toddler, and she’s not buying it.

Her eyes are sharp, and seem to peel through layers of Taako’s bullshit like a knife. And then she scoffs, and mimics his hair flip with her wrist even though her hair is only about two inches long, and the tension drains out of the room like someone pulled a plug in the floor.

“You’ve been teaching Mango to read,” she says dryly. “And Elvish. And magic. But okay, Mr I Don’t Teach.”

“He’s my fucking protege. That shit’s different!”

“Shit!” Angus agrees cheerfully.

“Whatever. Now that I know you’re secretly a fountain of knowledge, I’m dragging you in here the next time I fuck up a recipe.” She studies him for a moment, and adds, “You don’t have to cook, Teach. If it bothers you. I just…I need help sometimes.

Taako feels himself relenting. This house is turning him into a fucking pushover.

“I know, Cat,” he sighs. “Try to find one person who doesn’t.”

#

“Alright, little man,” Taako says, tugging Angus’ collar straight. “What are the rules?”

“Hold your hand, don’t talk to strangers, aim for the eyes if I can reach them, knees if I can’t,” his boy recites gravely.

Next to him, Ezra stifles a snort of laughter. Boniface, waiting by the loaded carriage, looks reluctantly amused. Catherine says, “Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to give you a kid?”

“Uh, your boss,” Taako says without looking at her. He stands up from his crouch as the front door closes, and they all turn as McDonald comes down the steps to join them in the crumbly courtyard.

“Are we ready, boys?” he asks with a smile. “Neverwinter is waiting.”

Honestly, Taako has been sick with dread over this trip for the past two weeks, but he wouldn’t know how to go about explaining that. And he sure as hell isn’t sending Angus off alone with his absent-minded grandfather. The kid probably wouldn’t make it home.

It’s not as though Taako has been sequestered in the manor house for the last five years. He’s ambled into the settlement with the girls now and then, has gone farther up the road to buy from caravans for Candlenights gifts, has let himself be bullied, cajoled, blackmailed and bribed into helping Boniface lug imported plants home from the train station.

But this is fucking Neverwinter. The Jewel of the North.

“Taako? You okay?” Angus says from somewhere near his elbow.

“Just dreading three hours on the road playing I, Spy with you, boychik,” he lies smoothly. “Go pet the horses so we can get that out of the way.”

Angus looks mulish for a moment, but he does insist on petting the carthorses before they take the carriage literally anywhere, so he lifts his head and crosses the courtyard with great dignity. Taako watches sharply until Boniface rolls his eyes so hard Taako can practically hear it and hefts Agnus up in one huge arm to better reach the giant creatures without running the risk of getting fucking trampled.

“I’m making the salmon at home tonight,” Catherine says abruptly, a non-sequitur that takes Taako by surprise. “If I don’t fuck it up, I’m gonna cook it here, too. So don’t be late, Teach.”

“I’ll a hundred percent eat your share if you’re late,” Ezra adds. Her smile looks a little strained.

Taako has not been subtle. He’s been freaking out right out loud where anybody could see it. Get it together, asshole, he coaches himself helpfully.

“Cat,” he says earnestly, “your salmon is literally the only thing I have to live for.”

She groans and pushes him away from her. Angus has finished with the horses and returns to Taako at a run, even though they’re all going to be walking back across the courtyard to the carriage in like one minute anyway. 

McDonald is handing out a few last minute instructions. They’re mostly things that have already been taken care of, errands that have already been run, the ushe. The girls nod along politely, but there’s a level of uncertainty lingering above them like a cloud. They look as nervous about Taako leaving as Taako feels.

Now, Taako is many things—an elf, a failed chef, a murderer, a dime-store wizard, and one lucky nanny—but he is not some mercurial fairy tale creature. He’s not going to vanish from their lives the second they lose sight of him. He could if he wanted to, and he will if he has to, but he doesn’t want to. For now, he doesn’t have to.

So he lifts a hand and says, “Back soon.”

But for some reason, it fucking hurts.

#

The trip is about everything he expected it would be: long and boring. Angus gets bored with I, Spy within about ten minutes, the interior of the carriage is a little too tight to practice his cantrips, and Boniface seems to be aiming for the roughest parts of the road on purpose. Taako tries reading aloud from one of the Caleb Cleveland books, but McDonald keeps interrupting every time they get to the good, mysterious parts, so Angus and Taako trade a loaded glance and wordlessly agree to save it for later.

Still, it’s not awful. Angus at six years old is bright-eyed and relentlessly clever. He wants to be a detective like Caleb, and has taken to solving little mysteries around the manor house, like who left the jam out on the counter (Taako, and what are you going to do about it, pumpkin?) and who tracked the mud inside the undercroft (Boniface, obviously, that’s where all the booze is, and he literally works in mud all day. You didn’t have to put on your detective cap for that one).

Needless to say, Taako would burn the whole world down for this kid.  

With no choice but to spend time in his grandson’s company, Taako can see Angus’ innate charm going to work on McDonald. There’s something wistful in the old man’s eyes, affectionate and more than a little bittersweet. He stops interrupting as Angus starts to describe his latest case in great detail—the mystery of the missing tarts!

The tarts are wrapped up and waiting in Taako’s bag for when they inevitably get snacky during the trip, but he's not going to tell. He kinda wants to see how far the kid takes this one.

By the time they board the train, Angus is tuckered out. The excitement of a trip so far from home is wearing off after hours in a carriage, and Taako ends up carrying him into their sleeper car and putting him to bed in one of the bunks.

McDonald takes a seat at the small table and watches without commentary as Taako extracts the boy’s hat and glasses and wand without waking him, pulling the blanket up to his shoulders. And then, out of habit more than anything else, he murmurs the only Elven blessing he remembers, quite literally ‘sweet dreams.’ He remembers Auntie saying it to him, and…someone else, maybe? He remembers that it always made him feel loved to hear it.

“Hiring you was the best thing I could have done for him,” McDonald says suddenly.

Taako turns with a trademark smile on his face, only as charming as it needs to be. “Hiring me was the best thing you ever did, period.”

His boss smiles back, but there’s an edge to it that Taako can’t translate. This is the most present and aware he’s looked in the last five years. Taako isn’t sure he’s ever had this much of McDonald’s attention.

“There’s another reason I wanted to take the two of you with me this week,” he says. 

It’s ominous as fuck, and as the train lurches into motion, pulling away from the station, Taako realizes that he’s effectively trapped here, in a way he never was at the manor house. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because McDonald’s smile warms a bit, and he gestures at the other chair. 

“It’s a good thing, son. No need to be nervous.”

Taako sits in an irreverent collapsing of limbs to prove that he isn’t nervous, actually. McDonald pulls a bunch of papers out of his briefcase and sets them on the table. They look official as fuck. McDonald’s signature at the bottom draws Taako’s eye—huh, so that’s his first name. After this long, it would have felt a little awkward to ask. Beneath that is the signature and seal of a notary.

“What am I looking at here, Charlie?”

McDonald’s lips twitch. He probably cottoned onto the name thing. 

“Well, this isn’t an easy conversation to have, and I probably could have picked a better time for it, but.” He glances over Taako’s shoulder at where Angus is sleeping. “It’s probably better if the boy doesn’t overhear until it’s sorted.”

“I hear ya. That little bugbear is all up in everyone’s business all the time,” Taako says proudly. “Just the worst.”

“He’s amazing,” McDonald says. That sorrow swims into his eyes now, an ancient, ruinous thing. “He reminds me of my daughter every time I look at him.” Oh. “It’s been…hard to look at him sometimes.” Oh.

Taako carefully reevaluates his opinion of Angus’ absent grandfather. Not too much, because the dude still should have been around, but, you know. Some.

Taako tries to imagine losing somebody, how much it must hurt. He tries to imagine looking like somebody, a family resemblance, a belonging at face-value. He’s never experienced either, but there’s still a bitter pit in his throat, a feeling like if he swallows too hard he’ll start to cry. So he sits very still instead.

“But still, he’s my only grandson, and I want him to be taken care of when I’m gone,” the man goes on. “I’m getting on in years, and I probably don’t have much longer left—oh, Taako. It’s alright.”

Taako is certain he didn’t move. He’s still doing the sitting-very-still thing. Then he realizes his ears betrayed him, pressed back flat against his head. Goddamn things.

“No, it’s uh. Taako’s good, don’t. Just.”

It’s the human age thing. He doesn’t want to think about it. He waves McDonald on, a tight rolling gesture. They really need to power through the rest of this conversation while Taako still has enough self-control left to not do something really embarrassing in front of his boss, like have a whole emotion.

McDonald takes pity. Thank fuck.

“It’s normal to want to get your ducks in a row,” he says. “I’m not planning on kicking the bucket any time soon.”

“Alright, let’s organize these ducks,” Taako says with unwarranted enthusiasm. He’s trying to trick himself into it. “Fucking ducks, am I right?”

“Angus is my heir. When he’s of age, he’ll get the estate and everything that goes with it, as well as his parents’ properties,” McDonald says, once again reminding Taako that he’s a rich old fuck. Istus. “But that’s still more than a decade away. If something should happen to me, I don’t want him to end up a ward of the state.”

Taako blinks. In the back of his mind, he realizes that he has become one of those elves that would one-thousand-percent kidnap a human baby if it came down to it. Leave Agnes in an orphanage? His Agnes? It would literally have never occurred to him.

“Custody cases can be so long-winded. The easiest way to circumvent the whole mess would be to adopt you into the family,” McDonald says, super nonchalant about flipping the world upside down. “That way Angus has an immediate next of kin that no one would question.”

He looks up when Taako doesn’t say anything and frowns at whatever Taako’s face must look like.

“You don’t have to use the surname if you don’t want to. It’s mostly just for the sake of paperwork.”

“I can’t,” Taako blurts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t insist that you change your family name if it’s important to you—”

“Not—not that, who gives a fuck about my family name,” Taako says too loudly. Angus shifts around for a second, like he might wake up, and Taako snaps his mouth closed so hard it hurts his teeth. In a whisper, because it’s all he can manage without giving into the urge to scream, Taako forces out, “I—I’m—I can’t.”

In the nightmare scenarios that still sometimes plague him in the middle of the night, when everyone else is asleep and he’s alone with the voice in his brain that fucking hates him, the choices always boiled down to either leaving Angus behind or taking him on the run. Both choices were fucking awful for a myriad of different reasons, and left Taako pacing his room tirelessly trying to think his way out of an unsolvable problem.

The idea that he could become a legal part of Angus’ family as simply as signing a piece of paper is so far-fetched and ridiculous that he can’t wrap his mind around it.

But bringing all his shit into Angus’ life? Signing up for this only to get snatched away the second the paperwork goes through and the militia finally finds him? Leaving his dirty laundry all over the front yard like the worst fucking house guest imaginable, and then peacing out to spend the rest of his long-ass fucking elf life in jail, while Angus was left to just…deal with that?

He couldn’t. He can’t. Every single option is bad. He shouldn’t have stayed. He should have known he would fall in love with that baby on day one. It’s really fucking stupid that he stayed.

“—aako. Taako.”

Taako jerks his head up. His ears are twitching and his hands are shaking and McDonald has probably been saying his name for awhile.

The man’s eyes are bright and steely. They look exactly like Angus’ do sometimes, when he wakes Taako up from a miserable meditation, when it’s just the two of them in a huge house surrounded by a crumbling garden.

“Tell me,” the man says sternly.

At a fucking complete loss, Taako just…does.

When he’s finished, McDonald looks at him really hard for what feels like a long time. Then he pulls a pair of reading glasses out of an inner pocket of his coat, poises the business end of a fountain pen against a fresh sheet of paper, and starts asking questions.

It’s a business-like, no-nonsense exchange. Taako is wiped out, emotionally he is the equivalent of a damp rag wrung out to dry, and he has no wherewithal left to lie or deny or deflect.

When they’re done, McDonald has filled three notebook pages of blocky handwriting, and Taako is swaying in his seat. He watches somewhat vacantly as McDonald nods to himself and rummages in his briefcase for a stone of farspeech.

“We won’t reach Neverwinter until morning. Get some sleep,” he says, and his voice is kindly again, the way it was before. Taako stares at him. “And don’t tell me elves don’t need it, please. I wasn’t born yesterday, and you nap twice as much as my grandson ever did.”

Well, it would be nice to get one last unnecessary snooze in as a free man, Taako supposes, and he doesn’t hesitate to climb into Angus’ bunk. It’s a familiar ritual. The kid squirms to accommodate him without fully waking. Taako tucks an arm around him and buries his nose in that riot of curly hair.

He hears McDonald say, “You’re not much more than a kid yourself, are you?” but that might have just been part of a dream.

He hears someone else say, “That can’t be broken or lost or taken away, it’s always going to be so important,” but Taako thinks that, whoever that was, they were very clearly wrong.

#

Taako wakes up to a six-year-old’s warm brown eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners in an urchin sort of way, and it’s the only tell Taako needs. His kid has been up to some mischief.  

“Grandpa said you were tired and I should let you sleep,” Angus reports cheerfully. “He also said that there was a nice lady selling flowers a few cars down, and I ought to go buy a few!”

Ah. Taako glances down at the ruin of his hair. It looks like about a hundred snowberry blossoms were worked into the thick flaxen braid. It’s going to be an absolute pain to brush out later. He’ll probably find bits of plant in his hair for days. He loves it.

He risks a glance in McDonald’s direction.

The man looks amused by their whole general existence, which is fair. He also doesn't look like he's about to summon the guard to have Taako hauled into the brig, which is a fucking relief and a half.

“The world changed while you were asleep,” he says significantly. “Would you like to sign the papers now or with your pardon?”

Angus says, all in one breath, “You should sign the papers first! Grandpa says then you’ll be my family! I mean, you already are, so I’m not sure what the point is, but it must be important. Look at how official they are!”

Taako feels about four cups of coffee behind this conversation. He scoots off the bed, spilling into one of the chairs at the table, and folds his hands.

“Charlie. Buddy.”

“I stepped out for two minutes,” McDonald says defensively, “and I thought he was asleep!”

“That’s the oldest trick in the book,” Taako mutters. His heart is doing something really complicated and largely unnecessary, fucking backflipping in his chest, at Angus’ thoughtless ‘you already are.’ Like it was a given. What the fuck. “Can you go back to, uh—the world changing? A pardon? What’s up with that?”  

“An old friend of mine is a cleric,” he says pushing a steaming cup in Taako’s direction. “Level nine, or thereabouts. She owed me a favor from when we were in school together, when I—well, that’s not important. What is important is that she was happy to cast Discern Location to find your old stage manager.”

Taako fumbles the cup, almost drops it. He sets it down hard.

“What the fuck? No, hold that thought. Angus, I love you. Get lost.”

He’s really banking on the kid being more stir-crazy than curious, and sure enough, Angus hops right off the bunk and sprints for the door.

“Okay, I’ll be in the dining car! You’re not s’posed to take food back with you, but I’m gonna see how many pastries I can fit in my pockets so you won’t be hungry when you sign the papers that make you my family! Love you, bye!”

“A three-hour carriage ride followed by six hours on a train was the worst fucking idea,” Taako says severely. “He’s gonna be on eleven when we roll up to Neverwinter. They might not let us in.”

“He’s just excited,” the old man says, with the tranquility of someone who isn’t going to have to child-wrangle all day long. “I told him I had good news for you.”

Taako is fidgeting, turning the cup of coffee around and around in his hands. It’s leaving a ring of condensation on the table.

“You found Sazed?” he asks, and hates how small his voice sounds.

“We did.”

“He probably hates me,” Taako mutters. “I ruined his life.”

McDonald takes the cup from him and sets it down on the other side of the table with a firm clunk. 

“Pardon my language, but you didn’t ruin crud.” Taako mouths ‘crud’ in bewilderment, but McDonald isn’t finished. “I was suspicious of your story when you described the way those people died. Those aren’t the typical symptoms of deadly nightshade, and I’d never heard of a transmutation spell failing in that way before. So I looked into it. Or, I should say, I had a few friends look into it.”

“Are you in a cult?” Taako asks. He can’t help it. He’s one part genuinely curious and two parts hardwired to deflect any time someone tricks him into having a serious conversation. “We frown on cults in this family. Mysterious shadow organizations are never a good thing, no matter what greater-good shit they’re peddling.”

“I’m very rich and belong to very elite social circles,” McDonald says dryly. He’s unmoved by Taako’s general everything. “This whole thing took about three calls. I wish you would have told me about this five years ago, but I do understand why you didn’t.”

Taako doesn’t have a cup to fuck around with anymore. He stopped wearing jewelry when Angus was a baby and literally everything smaller than an apple was a choking hazard, and he never really got into the habit of it again, so he doesn’t have rings to twist around his fingers, either. He wrings his hands instead.

“If it wasn’t the elderberries,” he chokes out, and doesn’t make it any farther.

“It was arsenic,” McDonald says. His voice is kind again, but not so much so that it’s painful to hear. “Sazed was questioned within a Zone of Truth. He admitted to—okay,” he cuts himself off, putting a hand on Taako’s shoulder. “We’re done talking about it for now. Just take it easy.”

Taako doesn’t uncurl from his chair until the door rattles open and Angus’ voice fills the room. He’s found a dozen things to talk about in the ten minutes he’s been gone, and is very proud of himself for all the contraband pastries he managed to make off with. There’s a cheese danish wrapped very carefully in a napkin, only slightly squished, that he presents to Taako with a showy flourish that he really only could have picked up from too much time around one particular idiot.

Taako accepts the danish, and then hauls Angus up onto his lap, and then says, “Charlie, baby. Pass me that fancy pen.”

#

For the first time in almost eight years, Taako is cooking for an audience again. His hands are shaking, but as long as everyone else is politely pretending like they don’t notice, he can do himself the same favor.

I fed those people their death, but it wasn’t on me, he recites inwardly for the seven millionth time, a nervous mantra. My magic was good. My cooking was good. I was good. It wasn’t on me.

He looks up from the counter where all his tools are laid out and his ingredients are arranged. Ezra is bouncing in her seat, Boniface is lingering in the doorway like he doesn’t care but he also isn’t leaving, and Catherine’s eyes are wide and moonlike and younger than Taako has ever seen them. Angus has place of pride, a seat on the counter by the sink with the best view in the house.

“Okay,” he says. “What are the rules, pumpkin?”

“No swiping ingredients, no magic in the kitchen, and no taste-testing until you say it’s okay,” Angus rattles off promptly. “Autographs at the end of the show are three gold apiece, photos are ten, and the overall experience is absolutely priceless.”

Over the sweet sound of the rest of his audience groaning at him, Taako goes on blithely, “And what are we cooking today?”

“Macarons!”

“And who’s your dude?” Taako asks, pointing a whisk at him. Angus giggles, and Taako’s hands aren’t shaking anymore.

In a month, Angus is going off to a summer camp out past Rockport. It’s Caleb Cleveland-themed, and the whole thing sounds extremely nerdy and book-cluby, and Angus is desperately excited. He’s also desperately nervous about being away from his family for three whole weeks but he’s trying to keep that on the down-low. He’s very grown up at nearly ten years old.

Taako can respect that. He also bought the kid a stone of farspeech, because actually fuck that.

And while Angus is off having his first away-from-home adventure—since the girls think that Taako’s just going to be useless and mopey the whole time, and Boniface already threatened to bury him in a flowerbed the first time he whines about literally anything—Taako is going to go do something cool, too. There’s always some interesting jobs posted on Craig's List up in Neverwinter. He’ll be able to find something to occupy his time.  

But for now, he’s gonna make some goddamn desserts.

“Come on, Ango,” Taako wheedles, “who’s your dude?”

“You, papa.”

I’m good, Taako reminds himself. He looks at his kid, who only deserves the best this piece of shit world has to offer, and thinks, I can be good.

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Hey guys! Someone sent me a private message with a word for my WIP word, sentence, thingy, but the segment was too long to share in a PM, so I’m posting it here. The word they sent was “sharp.”

send me a word & i’ll post a sentence from my WIP that contains that word

Sharp: “Yeah, but ya said that ‘bout havin’ ‘sexual intercourse’ last time. This is different. Ain’t bad ta think ‘bout someone. ‘S natural. Ya can’t tell me ya never... ya know. Rub one out? So, if ya don’t think ‘bout women... what /do/ ya think ‘bout?”

Oh, fuck, the kid is bright fucking red, holy shit. Even with the makeup, Mondo can see that Taka is almost the color of a ripe tomato, his eyes wide as saucers. If this moment wasn’t so weird, Mondo would think it’s cute. But as it stands, it’s just... so fucking weird... Mondo likely shouldn’t have done the crude hand gesture, but he had a feeling the kid wouldn’t understand his meaning otherwise, shit. But even Taka shouldn’t be /that/ fucking  embarrassed about a hand gesture... right?

But it seems so, if the way Taka turns to glare at the wall, back stiff and straight, face closed off and tight, discomfort fucking /billowing/ off him in waves is anything to go by...

“I fail to see how that is any business of yours! S-such information is- is /private/ a-and it is honestly rude to ask such a thing! E-especially in public! B-but...” Taka hisses, his body shaking, his anger and indignation plain to see. Shit... perhaps he shouldn’t have done this, but... “But... to answer you, I... I do not... I-it is improper, and I... I cannot...”

He... doesn’t. He fucking... /doesn’t/...?! What?! How?! How the fuck does he not... not... and Mondo isn’t being insensitive, alright? Even if Taka were, ya know... /gay/... he wouldn’t care! But... the fact that he doesn’t, /at all/... because it’s fucking /improper/...? That’s just... that’s fucking...

“Shit. Yer seriously tellin’ me ya never... ya know. Not even once?”

Mondo watches as Taka closes his eyes, looking so fucking uncomfortable and /upset/, making Mondo feel like a fucking jackass... oh, shit, he- he hadn’t meant to... he’d just been taken aback, that’s all, he... but before Mondo can try and stammer out an apology, or backtrack, or /anything/, Taka... Taka is /nodding/. Just once. Sharp and jerky, but Mondo sees it. For some reason, this is even more shocking to him, even though he’d already figured this, and can’t help letting out a low ‘well, shit,’ his brain being all weird... shit... because he can tell the kid is telling the truth and that just... well. It certainly makes a lot of things ‘bout the kid make a whole hell of a lotta sense...

“Well, fuck, man. No wonder yer always so tightly wound. If I didn’t, uh... /ya know/, every so often I’d prolly explode or somethin’. You, uh... you really take yer whole ‘Moral Compass’ thing seriously, don’t you?”

He doesn’t mean anything by the words, honest, he doesn’t. He’s just surprised, alright? And maybe he shouldn’t be, he knows some people don’t like shit like that. His... his ma never did, if the way she’d fucking /scream/ when their da wanted to... wanted ta... s-shit. Shit. Point is, he knows that some people don’t like that shit, especially if someone else has ever hurt them because of it. /Raped/ them, f-fuck. And he- he hopes that ain’t the case for Taka, but for some reason he can’t quite make the thought (the /fear/) go away. He... he knows how fucking terrifying that shit can be... even if nothing happens, even if the other party gets fucking scared away, he knows that that kinda shit doesn’t ever go away. Especially if the person is young and defenseless when it happens. Especially if they don’t even know what is happening, since they’re so fucking young, but know that it’s not good. He... he /knows/...

Mondo shakes himself from the fucking /memories/ and focuses back on Taka, watching him as he screws his eyes up tight, trying to hide away again. But Mondo can see the water gathering there. He can also see the way the kid’s lips are wobbling, his sorrow clear for Mondo to see. And he has a stab of fucking /self-loathing/ hit him as he realizes he’s the one who fucking did this. It’s his fucking fault, s-shit... fuck, he has to fix this... has to show Taka that it’s /fine/, that he... he’s /fine/... that there ain’t nothing fucking wrong with him, not at all...

“Fuck, shit... Taka, I didn’t... goddamnit,” he mutters softly, before he says ‘fuck it’ and moves closer to the kid. He still feels so weird inside, his stomach clenching with his worry for Taka __and the reminder of long forgotten memories__ that he just... can’t help how he goes closer to Taka. Like a fucking magnet...

He feels Taka jolt when he wraps his arms around him, but he doesn’t let go, and instead tightens his grip. He knows the kid could escape if he wanted, has told the kid many times that he is more than welcome to punch his lights out if he ever makes him feel uncomfortable, has even made the kid /promise/ to do it, so he knows Taka could escape if he truly wants.

(From chapter 13 of TPWM, companion to chapter 14 of TPWP.)

(Fun fact: I was originally going to expand on the part where Mondo is describing the reasons why Taka might not like pleasuring himself. I might still add it later in TPWM, but I'll talk about it now in case I don't get a chance to. [C.W. mention of child molestation.]

Basically, when Mondo was young, maybe 4 or 5, one of his father's "male friends" tried to molest him. Daiya came home before the man did anything more than touch Mondo's clothed inner thigh, going all momma bear on him, but Mondo never forgot how icky it made him feel inside. He didn't realize what the man was trying to do until he was much older, but once he did it made him feel even more freaked about the whole thing, doing his best to ignore it while also vowing to build himself up enough to never be put in that sort of position ever, ever again.

I came up with that backstory back when writing TPWP, but it never came up, so I kind of put it on the backburner. And now, while writing TPWM, it's yet to fit organically in a good place, even though I thought it would fit at a certain part but it just... didn't. I still privately think of it being part of Mondo's backstory, another reason he is so violently against being bi as well as why consent is so important to him, but I just don't know if I'll ever find a good place to bring the whole backstory up. Like Taka and his suicidal past. But I figured I'd mention it here, since I'll prolly mention it in my author's notes when this chapter is eventually posted.)

[mydearesthrry]

places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre. 

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation. 

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right? 

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought. 

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open. 

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way. 

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers. 

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you. 

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion. 

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them. 

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj. 

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless. 

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle. 

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit. 

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.” 

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart. 

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.” 

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his  pockets. 

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

[h0neyjaehyun]

☁︎ 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ☁︎

Summary // Chenle finds Tali such a precious thing in his life, especially her eyes that have this shine that he wishes that would never go away.

Characters // Talia Flores + Dreamies(except Jisung)

Era / Years // May 2016

Word Count //

⚠️Warning⚠️ // bullying mention

It's no secret that Chenle LOVES Tali. Everyone in SM knows that, ever since they partnered up during the trainee days he has been attached to her. Honestly Tali finds it adorable and doesn’t mind. Chenle just loves being in her presence since he feels so loved around her.

But the thing that Chenle loves the most about Tali is her eyes.They are so pretty to him and her eyes, he can tell how much she loves him.As people say the eyes are the window to the soul, and when he looks into her eyes, he couldn’t agree more.              

He always tried to look into her eyes at least once everyday to reassure himself the light was still there .Sometimes he would look at them for so long Tail would get flustered.He would just smile and coo at her and say “Aww I'm sorry didn’t mean to make you flustered.” then he would hug her and giggle cutely.

There have been many moments fans love of either Chenle or another member complementing Talis eyes and her getting flustered.Most of them is of Chenle just admiring her and complementing than the other members.

Chenle has heard about Tali’s talent and her beauty, especially her eyes, so when he was partnered with her and Renjun he was ecstatic. When he first saw her boy he was amazed with her eyes, prettier than he thought they would be, vibrant.

When he met her, he was so shy yet out there. Over time when they were trainees he had gained confidence and complemented her eyes, but was disappointed with what he discovered.

Tali just came out of vocal practice for a 30 minute break to eat lunch.She went to the cafeteria to grab some food and she saw a familiar group of boys eating.

”Heyy,” Mark said, dragging his voice first to notice his female friend.Tali smiled and responded.

"Hey Marky." She sat between Mark and Chenle, Chenle hugging her.Jaemin started feeding her since she forgot to grab her food.

Chenle started to stare at Tali admiring her eyes, unlucky for the Chinese boy, Haechan noticed and started to tease him.

“Ohh~ is out Chenle checking out Tali, ahh~ he's crushing on her, Chenle has a crush on Tali ,Chenle has a crush on Tali.” Haechan said with a high pitched teasing voice, with a smirk on his face.

Everyone in the group knew that he just finds her precious, so they  were now either teasing or pitied the flustered Chinese boy in front of them.

“N- no it's not like that” They poor boy was trying to explain, but he was still too flustered to speak properly.

“Then what is it?” Jaemin said in a teasing voice while handing Tali her water that she couldn’t open. Tali just shook her head at the boy handing her the water, feeling bad for the flustered boy that couldn’t seem to get his words out.

That's when Chenle finally had the courage to say something that caught Tali off guard.But something the boys all agreed on.

“I- i was just staring at her because I wanted to look at her eyes.”Chenle said with embarrassment, all the boys laughed in agreement. He then looked up at Tali expecting her to be smiling but instead she looked shocked and confused.

He was surprised when she was shocked. Did he do something wrong? She could tell that he was worried that he said something wrong.

“Oh uh sorry you didn't do anything...it's just." She said hesitantly while shaking her head.

”It's just I don’t get complimented on my eyes” She said with a shy smile.

They boys were surprised over that, everyone gushes over her eyes, and talks about it what does she mean she doesn’t get compliments.

“No~ it's just I get the opposite...some female trainees in my dance practice say I don’t look pretty because of my eyes or I should have colored contacts because I look weird.”She said hesitantly but with a cute head tilt and a sad smile.

Everything went quiet

Tali looked at all the boys and she could tell they were mad

But before any of the guys could say or do anything she gave them a smile 

 “ Hey it's fine, I'm used to it, and it doesn't bother me much. I've always been called weird or been told my eyes make me look ugly it's okay, either way I gotta go back to vocal practice, please behave. I don't wanna cause problems.”

The boys were quiet when she left, all thinking who the hell would do that to Tali, their noona. 

Chenle was conflicted, how can people be so insensitive, he was mad really mad.Who would do that to his noona she was always sweet and caring-

“We have to do something”

Everyone looked up to see a pissed off Haechan.

“You know what she said-” “Oh please Mark, you really think it doesn’t bother her anymore, she bottles up her  emotions, we can’t just sit here and not do anything when we know what is happening.” Haechan snapped at Mark.

“Haechan we know, but we also have to respect her wishes. ” Jeno said with a stern voice trying to calm him down.

”but Haechan has a point we need to at least do something.”Renjun said with a sad tone.

They were all conflicted on what to do.Part of them want to have a “talk” with those girls while the other part of them want to respect their noona’s wishes.It was getting late and they decided the older ones to try to figure out who did it secretly.

While Chenle distracts her which he did to his excitement since even tho how long he has been clinging on to her, he never got the chance to hang out with her alone.

“We are….what?” Tali said with a surprised voice wondering what's going on with the adorable boy infront of her brain.

“We are going to go out together just the two of us!” Chenle said with such excitement in his face excited to finally have time with his noona alone and get to know her better.

Chenle could never see if she was sad or mad or any negative emotion from her so at times it was hard to read her.So he took this as an opportunity to get to know her better.

Tali looked at him confused on why out of all people, why her.She thought about it while looking at his face thinking to herself...how can I reject that face. She sighed while looking at him with a sweet smile,

”Sure, why not”. 

With all of that Chenle melted, her eyes looked at him so lovingly, and when she accepted, happiness filled him and he started to drag her to the mall.He wanted to buy her everything thinking she deserves the world.But she stops him and it doesn’t take a lot of convincing either. It just takes one caring look in her eyes and everything doesn’t matter anymore.

The things he has learned about her is that she is not that girly; she is more of a soft person and her color palette in clothes wise is around the warm colors like pinks and browns, yet also blacks, grays, whites. He finds her style pretty simple.Then realized he has never seen her in a dress or skirts even tho she has a uniform mostly cause she changes pretty quickly after school.So when he gave her the puppy eyes when he asked her to put on a dress and she couldn’t say no.

She came out with a short flowy white flower dress off the shoulders.He was shook on how pretty it looked on her.He noticed how she became shy about to run back in dressing room her quickly back hugged her while she hid her face in her hands, “NOOooNa yOur SO PreTty….can we please buy it and the next time we go out can you wear?” He asked so cutely knowing at this point, that's the trick.She looked at him embarrassed and she huffed.

“...sure”

They left the mall with smiles on their faces.Chenle excitement knowing he is probably the only member that has seen her in a proper dress.Then Tali is just looking at him with adortion knowing that she made his day, and honestly that was her goal for the whole day.

Just to make him happy. 

Then the more he thinks about it the more he realizes that it seems like he likes her like a girlfriend. But both Tali and him know that is platonic and he just loves her so much and finds her the most precious thing in his life.He came to the conclusion that he doesn’t care what people think as long as Tali knows he loves her.

Chenle was looking at Tali writing in her note book some lyrics that came to her mind, remembering the memory about the mall.Tali noticed him looking at her, she looked up tilting her head with a confused but cute look on her face. He smiled at her knowing exactly what he was gonna say.

“Noona….can we go buy a dress for you” he said with a cheeky smile.Tali looked at him with confusion still written all over her face wondering why he wants to go buy a dress for her right now?

“Why?” she looked at him with her eyes so innocently his heart could burst about how cute she looks at the moment.

”Yeah, it's been a while you been in a dress, and it's been a while since I bought you one, last time i bought you one I'm pretty sure it was during the trainee days and i'm pretty sure you outgrew it.” He said with a smirk putting his head on his hand looking at her.

She looked at him in thought but realized he is probably gonna whine if she doesn’t accept his invitation on buying her a dress.So she tilted her head while  she looked at him with the same loving eyes as before maybe even more that he loves to look at with so much emotion coming from them that he could just explode from just a gaze.

“Sure, why not.”

[ichigo-kamome]

Hold It In - Jukebox The Ghost - a Kagehina one shot

This one shot is heavily inspired by oq_keiji on ao3 called “afraid of what i’ll find”. The timeline is structured the same way as her fanfic, and we highly recommend you check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/works/30808232?view_adult=true This one shot is meant to be around the time that Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio are in their third year of high school. The title of this one shot is the song that inspired the storyline! Here is a link to the playlist we have created for this one shot and upcoming one shots! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2B4DwHhh7yQN63SsYRAmU0?si=d35ca62dda4641d7

Also I wasn’t able to proof read this before I went to work, so my apologies for any errors!!

WE HOPE YOU ENJOY! - ichigo-kamome <3

“I’m terribly sorry, but… Well, I’m not all that interested!” Shoyo said politely, as Kageyama stared blankly. He was completely taken aback by this, though he shouldn’t have been.

“I’m sorry! I appreciate the gesture! Have a great day!” Hinata finished, running back to the commotion of the gymnasium. His classmate remained dumbfounded.

That’s the fifth time this week, and it’s only Tuesday! Kageyama thought as he received the ball his underclassman bumped to him. How many confessions is Shoyo going to get this year..? His mind began swirling with thoughts of countless girls coming to steal Hinata’s attention… Maybe even a few guys, too.

“Welcome back, heartbreaker,” Tsukishima teased as Hinata bounded over to his friends anxiously. Yamaguchi snickered, but tried not to laugh so hard as to be insensitive. Tsukki didn’t care about this, and rather laughed louder than Hinata would have liked.

“Tsukki!” Hinata hushed as heads turned towards them. “Now you’ve done it…” Yachi was making her way over to the four, her ponytail swaying as she rushed over.

“Shoyo!” she exclaimed in a whisper, grasping the cuff of his shirt and pulling him over. “Don’t tell me you just declined ANOTHER girl…?” She looked somewhat upset, confused, and nervous. A mix of emotions that Tobio was afraid to get in the way of, frankly.

“SHHH!” Shoyo said, placing a finger to his lips and whipping his head around frantically. “Don’t have to tell the whole team!” The shade of red on his face was becoming deeper by the second, revealing his utter embarrassment. Yachi let go of him and sighed, shaking her head and giggling slightly.

“I swear, you need to learn a better way of turning those poor girls down. How about I help you some time? Because whatever you keep doing, it’s not working. Those poor girls always run off crying,” Yachi said, a sad tone behind her words. Hinata nodded, beginning to discuss a time the two could work on their studies together while also learning the proper way to let someone down.

“Hey, why do you even reject these girls? Isn’t there one you find pretty or something?” Tsukki interrupted the chatter bluntly, causing Hinata to turn red once again. There was an awkward silence that hung in the air, which only one person understood the reasoning for. It felt thick, filled with confusion and suppressed emotions. The team’s captain sucked in a deep breath before speaking, as if to gain the courage to break the void before them.

“Okay, let’s get back to volleyball,” Yamaguchi interjected, breaking the deafening silence. “We can talk about it after practice, if necessary!” His soft smile made the situation feel less tense, causing Hinata to take a mental sigh of relief.

Kageyama sensed the tension, but couldn’t pinpoint the reason for it. There wasn’t anything that stuck out in his mind as abnormal when it came to Hinata rejecting other girls. He was very focused on volleyball, of course. So it’s not as if he actually had time to go on dates and such with anyone else. It made sense in his brain. Regardless of the reason, Kageyama was somewhat relieved that Shoyo had never accepted anyone’s confession. That was all he allowed himself to expand on that subject.

Yamaguchi was practically Hinata’s guardian angel that day, and he was somewhat aware of this. The awkward pause that Hinata had displayed was enough to confirm his already present suspicion. It was so obvious - the two liked each other. Tadashi was always very observant of his fellow teammates, paying a careful eye to how they interacted with one another. It was his current job as captain of the volleyball team to ensure that everything was running smoothly. This involved picking up on unsaid words within conversations and acting in accordance to what he could understand. And from what he just saw… Well, at least Hinata wasn’t comfortable with making statements in regards to romantic feelings.

The rest of the practice ran smoothly from what Tadashi could see. His teammates were all improving significantly, which caused a grin to appear on his face. He was improving, as well. It was nice to witness growth, especially when he was partaking in it. Half way through practice, though, Yachi had waved him over during a water break. Tadashi jogged lightly to his friend, who had a concerned expression on her face. “Everything okay, Yachi..?”

“Tadashi, what was the whole… situation earlier… about? Is Sho okay?” Another silence filled the space between them, causing the captain to suck in a large breath as he debated what to say next.

“Yeah, no, I think it’s okay right now!” His smile was stiff. Yachi noticed, raising an eyebrow. “He just doesn’t seem to enjoy discussing romantic interests, you know? Or at least… that’s what I could see!”

Yachi nodded happily, but wasn’t quite convinced that everything was okay with Hinata. So, she decided to bring it up with him herself the next time she saw him, which was during their study session.

“Hey Sho, do you like anyone?”

It took a moment for Hinata to fully register what was just asked of him. He started blankly at his homework, then whipped his head up to Yachi. She had her eyes locked onto her pencil that was scribbling away on her paper. It was as if she had never asked in the first place. Hinata felt the temperature of his face skyrocket. He figured he could just ignore it and pretend he didn’t hear her, so he looked back down at his assignment and pretended to write nonsense.

“Sho, are you okay..?”

“YES!”

“That wasn’t convincing.”

“YES!”

A staring competition had spontaneously begun between the two. The silence was, once again, deafening. Hinata’s brows were furrowed, his gaze fixed on his friend’s eyebrows. He figured if he looked into her eyes, he would be done for. The thick, deafening silence returned once again. Yachi simply exhaled, turning her focus back to her studies. Hinata’s face softened, and the expression of irritation changed to that of confusion.

“Sorry,” broke the silence in a soft tone. Hinata didn’t move, holding still as if to not explode. “I don’t quite know why I’m pushing so much… It’s not like me.” A slight laugh escaped her lips as she looked at her notes.

The silence, the silence, the silence. This wasn’t like Hinata, to be so quiet. So, he mustered up the courage, - or rather, exploded of emotion, - and blurted into the impenetrable void, “I like someone.”

“What?”

“I like someone.”

“Oh. So that’s why you reject the girls..? But if you can get any girl you like by this point, why not just talk to her?”

“It’s not like that-”

“It’s not like what?”

“It’s not like he’s a girl.”

Yachi’s jaw dropped, her hand flying to her mouth. She tried to close it, but to no success. Eyes wide, she stared at Shoyo who had finally made eye contact with her. Of course, how did I not see this before?! She thought, memories of the past flying through her head at light speed. Suddenly, his being quiet made so much more sense than before.

“You cannot tell anyone. I don’t even want to feel this way, I just… do? I can’t really describe it, I’m not good with this stuff,” he spoke, moving his hand to the back of his head and crossing his legs. Yachi shook her head rapidly.

“I won’t tell anyone, promise!”

“And it’s not like it’s even been a long time.”

“Really?”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“SURE?”

“WELL-” Yachi wanted to elaborate, but the two couldn’t even begin to speak coherent thoughts anymore as the room filled with their laughter. The joyful interaction caused the tension to break, allowing Hinata to relax and again and Yachi to take a breath. She was still concerned for her friend, but at least she had a way to help him now. “I won’t pry anymore, my apologies! And your secret is safe with me, I swear!”

“Thanks, Yachi,” the boy sighed, resting his head in his notebook to try and hide his still burning face.

“Now, about how to politely decline girls…”

---

“Hey, Hinata, pass me my water bottle?” Kageyama asked during break one practice. Shoyo grabbed his water bottle and jogged over to him, beginning a light conversation which escalated into friendly banter. Yachi stood on the side of the gym, studying the writing on her clipboard. Her eyes flitted back and forth between the writings and her friend’s interactions, trying to examine facial expressions and body language.

“So, how was studying with Shoyo?” Yachi felt her feet practically leave the ground upon hearing Tadashi’s voice. Though she was much more confident in herself, she did still get spooked by the slightest of things sometimes.

“Studying..? Stu… OH, it went well!” Her head nodded up and down rapidly, which led to an eyebrow raise from the captain.

“Did you figure out why Shoyo had been acting weird the other day..?” The feeling of conversation suddenly changed as Yachi felt a pit appear in her stomach. Her heart sank slightly. I promised Hinata I wouldn’t be telling anyone anything, but I don’t want to lie to another friend… Wow wow wow, this is a tough one…

“Oh, that! Well, yeah, sort of, and everything is a-ok!” Yachi nodded once again. Yamaguchi’s eyebrow raised once again.

“Oh, well I won’t pry too much if he’s doing well!” He grinned, turning to face his two friends still caught up in conversation on the court. The mannerisms. Body language. Unsaid words. “They totally like each other.”

“Yep.” Tsukishima interjected from the other side of Yachi. She jumped again, but just slightly this time. Her gaze swiftly returned to the pair. The three of them observed, and noticed that the two were almost in their own little world. It was as if it was just them in the gym, talking back and forth like a game. Kei glanced over at Tadashi. Unspoken words. Don’t disrupt them. They just aren’t ready to tell each other. Kei nodded, setting down his water bottle and retying his shoelaces.

“Alright, let’s work on passing drills!” Yamaguchi spoke above the chatter. As the team walked over he looked back at Yachi, who looked still somewhat nervous.

“He told you, yeah?” He said in a hushed tone. All he received was a simple nod.

“Don’t worry, there’s no telling here.” He smiled softly at her, keeping his gaze fixed just on her for a moment. He then turned away, and jogged over to his teammates.

---

“Hey, mind if I tag along?” Tobio questioned his friend as they left the club room that day. Hinata stopped walking and felt this little… dance? in his heart. He sucked in a breath, but not one deep enough that could be heard by his friend.

“Oh, wanna come hang out? Ya lonely at home?” Hinata teased, causing Kageyama to pout. The pair walked next to each other, Hinata wheeling his bike to his opposite Kageyama. Their eyes were dead set ahead, because both individuals knew if they looked at the other, they wouldn’t be able to keep their cool.

“Pff, not lonely, dumbass. Just want to… I guess, make the most of the year? It’s our last one,” Kageyama said matter of factly. Hinata’s smile faded ever so slightly, just enough that one wouldn’t notice unless they paid close attention to him.

“Yeah, good point. Okay, then yes. In fact, you’re basically obligated to! And, maybe we ask the other t-”

“Or we just hang out, us two.” Hinata attempted to suppress a reaction and gripped firmly to his bicycle’s handles, but what he didn’t realize was that in and of itself was a reaction. I think I said that out loud- Wait- “Well, just like, this time, because the other’s are already on their way home.”

“Well, I know that, dummy-yama! I meant later, like, over the course of this year kind of thing. Tonight we’ll hang out just us, because we are both lonely!” A triumphant mood was in the words he spoke, though the last part of what he just said was not particularly lending to ‘triumphant.’

“HEY, WE AREN’T LONELY!” Tobio exclaimed, to which Shoyo just laughed. The taller tried to keep his composure, but soon lost it as laughter rang through the air.

He has this way of making situations feel less tense. His smile could make anyone feel warm inside, to the point where they forget the absence of that heat exists. Tobio looked over to his friend, trying his best not to give away his true feelings. He sure is somethin’.

It wasn’t long before the house was in sight. “Race ya!”, of course, were the first words said when the two could see it. Tobio darted ahead, much further in the lead because he didn’t have to wheel a bike beside him. However, he was soon overtaken by Hinata, who had the bright idea of riding the bike.

“HINATA, YOU DUMBASS!” rang through the air as the dark haired boy did his very best to speed up, but to no success.

“I WIN, TAKE THAT!”

“ONLY BECAUSE YOU CHEATED!”

“Hey now, I was only using my resources wisely,” Shoyo huffed, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows. He dropped his bike and ran inside, alerting his sister and mother that he arrived safely. Tobio smiled, shaking his head. He followed his friend inside, trying to wipe the smitten expression off of his face.

“Hi, Tobio,” said a sleepy Natsu, who had a blanket wrapped around herself. Tobio waved, trying to hide his face still. Her eyes widened, and she stared blankly up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed. She crossed her arms. “Why are you always so angry?”

“Wh- I AM NOT ANGRY, I-”

“Oh, that’s just his face. I thought I told you that last time, Natsu?” Hinata said, slipping off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. Kageyama stood there, dumbfounded by the interaction that just happened, trying not to burst with emotion. Whether that emotion was annoyance or joy, he couldn’t tell… but it sure was emotion.

“Yeah, it’s… just my face,” he stated coolly, repeating Hinata’s actions. He followed his friend, still feeling a little stiff in the environment. It wasn’t as if he had never been to Hinata’s house, in fact he came here to study every now and then. However, he felt a burning in his chest of anxiety, likely due to the fact that it wasn’t just Hinata’s house that he was in anymore. Well, it was, but was also the house of his crush. One that by now, he had hoped would fade. He wanted to be satisfied with a friendship. But, naturally, the more he tried to push it down the stronger it grew.

“Ya want some food?” Shoyo’s voice pierced through Tobio’s racing thoughts. He stared at him for a second, then realized he had been staring for more than just a second. Trying not to seem too obviously nervous he nodded his head. Shoyo smiled and started to find some food to eat.

The bubbly boy bounced around the kitchen, but didn’t exactly know how to cook a proper meal. Well, he did, but he wanted to make sure it was just right for his friend.

Friend. He tried not to linger too long on that word, because it only caused his heart to clench slightly. Why it felt this way, he couldn’t explain properly. Regardless, he knew he felt something for Tobio that was more than just a friendship. Not like that would ever but spoke about publicly, but it was there.

Shoyo’s mom came into the kitchen and began to prepare a meal for the boys, talking about how school was going, how volleyball was going, what Tobio had been up to lately, et cetera, et cetera. Small talk helped both of the boys' hearts to still a bit, focusing on something besides each other.

Thank you, mom. Hinata thought to himself. Little did he know, Kageyama was thinking the same thing.

The meal went over well, the boys talking with the family about the antics they had been getting up to in volleyball, school, the usual. Natsu seemed very sleepy the entire time, and it looked like she might pass out onto the plate in front of her.

“Natsu, how has volleyball been for you?” Tobio asked her. She looked up at him as if he had just set off a firework on New Year’s day in the shape of a puppy. Natsu no longer looked like she was tired, but rather began rambling endlessly about how much fun she was having and how wonderfully it was going. Tobio listened with obvious interest, and Shoyo watched from his seat.

Kageyama’s a much cooler guy than I used to think he was, Hinata thought to himself, watching the two chatter back and forth about the sport they both adored.

Before they knew it, bed time had arrived. It felt like two seconds had passed since they had arrived, truthfully. Kageyama was a little upset that the night had to come to an end, but he didn’t let it show.

The friends brushed their teeth and changed into pajamas - “You can borrow some of mine! My aunt got these flannel pants for me as a gift but they are way too long, they should fit you!” - and then stared at the floor before them. Hinata’s bed was a roll out which was just big enough for ‘one person’ which meant someone would have to sleep on the floor.

“I don’t mind,” said Tobio.

“No, no, you’re my guest!” Shoyo insisted, finding some spare blankets and pillows and settling himself on the floor near his friend.

Friend. That word echoed through each boy's mind as they tried to sleep.

Tobio had been aware of these feelings for a longer period of time than Shoyo. He was pretty sure he had recognized them first when he told Sho, “As long as I’m here, you’re invincible.” That’s when his heart first clenched, when he first noticed something out of the ordinary, when Shoyo’s sunshiney personality became more beautiful.

For Hinata, it had taken a little longer. Entering their third year, he realized that there was this burning feeling in his chest when he looked at Kageyama. When he set up the volleyball for him to spike, Hinata felt that burning again. It had entirely thrown him off at first, causing him to have to resync and try again to hit the ball a few times. Even still, he felt the burning. He was just… more comfortable with it now.

He still tried to deny his feelings. Kageyama was his friend, his rival. He shouldn’t have feelings for a friend. The burning was just anxiety about this year, about the pressure, about… anything else. However, he knew that wasn’t true. He was still coming to terms with this.

Shoyo, nearly asleep, rolled over out of habit and suddenly was right next to Tobio. Tobio felt a pang of anxiety rush through him. Do I say something? He’s probably already asleep. We’re just friends, it’s not a big deal. This is very normal. Don’t make it awkward. He tried to calm himself down. He smells nice. I can feel his warmth. I wish I could move a little closer, but I shouldn’t Don’t make it awkward.

Tobio’s thoughts raced wildly through his head. There was no way he was sleeping tonight.

He laid there for an hour or so, still trying to calm himself and still his rapidly beating heart. He had been slightly successful, but nonetheless, still nervous. Then, his friend moved closer. Hinata had his arms around him. He was asleep, there was no doubt in Kageyama’s mind. There was no way he could move now. Though, he placed his arms gently around his friend and allowed himself to relax. Soon, he drifted off as well.

Waking up was the hard part. Hinata woke up first, somewhat surprised by the entanglement he found himself in. His face turned red, and the heart clenching and burning had returned. He didn’t move, though. He didn’t want to. That and he couldn’t because he was slightly paralyzed by the fact that he was laying with his crush.

It’s just Tobio, don’t label him that. Hinata thought, then sitting up and walking to the door. He turned, looking at his friend. He smiled, seeing a sleepy Tobio lying peacefully. He smiled softly, feeling a different kind of warmth in his chest than before. This one felt like tea and honey, as if things would work out between the two of them.

Then he furrowed his eyebrows at the setter, frowned, and the warmth was gone. Now, there was heat. An anger for the boy.

Why do I have these feelings for you?

Kageyama thought the same thing that day in their first year. He didn’t allow himself to feel them while they were on the court, but afterwards, that was the only thought running through his head.

Why?

The same one Hinata was forced to be faced with now, on a random morning in his third year. Next year, he will be off to Brazil and Kageyama will be playing on some amazing team here in Japan. Miles, and miles, and miles away from each other with time differences and emotions they both were struggling to suppress.

Why?

Neither figured they would find the answer to that. But, maybe it wasn’t a matter of why they felt this way, but rather, what next?

What next?

That wasn’t for them to decide right now. And so, they continued on just like they always had been. And, for now, that was enough.

It would have to be.

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

Hello! Please Headcanon : Kid, X Drake, Law and Katakuri with their girlfriends who have a complex with their small boobs (soft and NSFW) ;) :*

Hey love :D Aww that’s a cool idea xD! But since it would exceed my characterlimit to do both seperate sfw and dirty headcanon for this, I kind of merged it together into one headcanon hehe xD Hope that’s okay^^

here goes a warning for mild dirt ahead~!

Having a girlfriend with a complex about her small boobs headcanon

Eustass Kid

you’re not the only one who’s got a‘little’ problem with your boobs here…

jk jk, but when you first took off yourshirt infront of him, Kid was half-expecting to be greeted by some big ol'bazongas hecould bury his face inbetween… so seeing them for the first time, the pirate couldn’t help but blurt out something like „that’s it?“ god can he be an insensitive prick sometimes

it’s not the end of the world though-boobs are boobs, and whether yours are small or huge, he’ll definitely be ableto make the most use out of it! As a wise man once said, ‘the smaller the marshmallows, the more sugar you can find inside’- a wisdom Kid lives by from now on

sure, having some soft, big pillows tosqueeze and hold onto would be nice too, but your bust being a bitsmaller is actually somewhat special! Given how every woman on theGrandline is equipped with a deadly pair of water balloons upfront, thiscould actually be something different and exciting!

besides, he can even cup a whole boob of yours in his single hand! I repeat, your whole boob fits in his hand- it’s almost like they were made for it!

about your complex though… he’sreally not very helpful when it comes to supporting you and getting rid of yourinsecurities

at first Kid might even suggest for youto buy a push-up bra or get something to put inside of it (if that makes youfeel any better), only to later realize that his insensitive comments might onlyfurther push your negative perception of your chest

aaargh, woman and their sensitive body images! If nothing else works, then he’ll just be blunt and tellyou that he enjoys your little pillows, regardless of their size- andyou should too!

now, as for being naughty… there are justso many ways for the pirate to tease you, it’s like a whole new world of possibilities! Kid isused to big-busted women, so he actually has somewhat of a challengehere and needs to thoroughly explore all of his options to get max satisfaction! Oh lord, there will be so much poking and groping and slapping and squishing and rubbing….

and since they are so smol he simply loves to roughly grope them and squeeze themagainst each other, basically creating a little crack he can bury his nose in hey hey, it’s almost like with big boobs!

X Drake

this almost feels like a blessing from above, not gonna lie

look, he appreciates big boobs just as much as the next guy, but they just make the Dino so damnnervous. Like, where should you even start touching them??? When isit too much? When too little? What if he accidentally breaks them orhurts you

your smaller breasts are just so…handy. Literally. Plus, he can easily touch them while also observing yourreaction- bigger hooters often tend to obscure his vision a bit, and so Drake can never really 100% tell how his partner feels unless he lifts his head and looks them in the face… and that can really tear one out of the moment. Especially when you’re looking for reassurance rather often, like he is

now it’s not that he would particularly mind if they were bigger, but you’re just perfect to him the wayyou are! And after all, everything got its pros and cons, right?

so… he wouldn’t really understand whyyou seem so unhappy with your breasts

Drake is definitely supportive and readyto do everything to make you feel comfortable in your own skin. If it might help, then the Dino would even accompany you whenever you need to go underwear shopping! But of course he’d almost passout when you try them on and show him the garments 

at the end of day you could even beabsolutely flat and he wouldn’t mind- it’s not the size that mattersto him, but the reaction he gets from touching them

…. and ohhhh boy, does he love touching them! One day, with a super flustered expression oh his face, Drake might even admit that to you- perhaps himbeing honest about how much he appreciates your body could help boost yourconfidence a bit!

in bed he’s usually a bit of anall-rounder and wouldn’t necessarily dwell on a certain body part ofyours, but with the knowledge of your little ‘complex’ he usuallytakes some extra time to tend to your chest and show you just howmuch he adores it

Drake is always trying to be very soft with your breasts. There are lots of sweet kisses and gentle sucking, sometimes he even sniffs them- it’s just so comforting to have your boobs close to his face, and more than once will the Dino need to hold himself back from just straight-up marking them!

Trafalgar Law

he’s a bit 50/50 on it- like Kid, Lawalso got a thing for rather big jingles, but your boobs being smallerin size is no real issue for him

I mean, at least you have boobs. And they’re still very pretty. What more could he ask for…?

any worries coming from you will simply beshrugged off at first. You got a wonderful body and not a single health-related problem concerning your chest, so ittakes quite a bit until Law actually catches on to the real issue and realizes just how much having small boobs bothers you

ahh yes, the surgeon can see what might be going on here- the common belief that‘a woman needs big breasts in order to be attractive’ strikes yet again

on one hand he can understand whyhaving smaller breasts, especially in a place like the boob-equippedGrandline, could make you feel less confident, but have you everconsidered this- he doesn’t care

Law has always been more about brainsrather than body, and in his opinion you actually got both. Why would he careabout your boobs not being as bloated and jiggly as most women’s are…?Infact, this actually sets you aside from the crowd!

they’re also a great example of your bodybeing 100% healthy and well proportioned, something not everyone can say for themselves on these seas. But the point Law is trying to make here is- don’t. worry. about. your. breasts.

…however if that doesn’t help and you continue to be sad because of it, then the surgeon would eventually offer you surgery. Not thathe’d want that to happen, but it’s your decision to make and Law wants you tofeel confident with yourself

in bed though, he’s… perhaps a bit roughwith them. Unlike Drake who got all soft once he found out about yourinsecurities, Law will actually use this knowledge to further tease and edgeyou on!

he’s obviously testing your boundaries and wants to push you to the point where you’ll just go ‘fuck it’ and enjoy your breasts for what they are- little pillows stored with lots of energy and desire

Katakuri

the immediate need to protect his small boobed gfis strong in this one

first time you show him, he almost bursts withadoration. Is it wrong of him to think that you are just absolutelypretty and adorable…? Every single inch of your body is perfect for him, both inshape as well as size

okay, but then again- Katakuri is basically a giant compared to you, so him finding you adorable is kind of mandatory

especially because he adores you so much, Katakuri will immediately shut down any negativity regardingyour boob size before you can even open your mouth. You and yourboobs are wonderful the way they are, so don’t even think about complaining about them around him!

however, he isn’t going to just shut you down when you’re feeling really doubtful of yourself. Perhaps getting another opinion on this matter might be helpful- we all know that most of his sisters were also blessed with large bazookas, but they all got some insecurities of their own to share as well

and hereby Charlotte Katakuri indirectly founded the Tottland self-help group therapy- a rare event where people can gather to help each other with their problems and insecurities. And he did this all to help you get over your own worries

in his eyes, small boobs are nothing to be ashamedof- look, he’s got his imperfections too, but you are by far better thanthis! So don’t you ever hide them, especially from him

he’s pretty blunt about how much heloves their soft feeling and how he can basically devour them wholeand at the same time with his mouth- oh Katakuri just loves to see you blush as aresult of his dirty words, and hopefully this will distract you or make you feel a bit better!

and if you think that he isn’t going to try out some good old fashioned foodplay on them, then you got another thing coming- as long as you’re okay with it, he’d love to use your chest and abdomen as serving tray for his donuts. In fact, he might even directly eat the sugary treats off of your skin if you’re comfortable with it- not only could that help with you overcoming your worries, but it also shows how okay he is with openly using his biggest imperfection- his deformed mouth- while being intimate with you! 

not to mention aaaaaall the body worship. Katakuri ain’t gonna stop being an absolute sweetheart until you’re 100% comfortable and proud with your body, just how he likes it. After all, that’s certainly when you’re at your very hottest!