#we need another strip mall apparently

[waitmyturtles]

Impressions on the second episode of Moonlight Chicken:

1) I’m really feeling a powerful nostalgia for seeing Earth and Mix together again. It’s filling my heart. They are so good together. And I’m wondering if Aof and the writers are possibly banking on viewers feeling that nostalgia to carry a bunch of the storyline. I wonder. There’s clearly a lot to be revealed about Jim’s past and Wen’s present in the slow burn of the show, but, I wonder if this feeling of nostalgia is helping to give the show its pace. I could be wrong. I might be calling it nostalgia when it’s a different feeling he’s going for. But especially at the end of the episode, when Jim and Wen are sitting together.... it just brought me back to ATOTS, just for a sec, and I had context as to why Earth’s and Mix’s chemistry just CLICKS. More on that chemistry in a sec.

2) Where else am I seeing nostalgia? If I’m a Thai viewer, then certainly in the lessons of the vendor uncle to Wen, as Jim gives Wen a lesson in cutting the chicken. The patience of passing down the way to do a job that Jim does over and over and over again, every day. 

3) Another place where I might be seeing cultural nostalgia -- the continued juxtaposition of the past to the present. Seeing Wen in an apron at the diner-stall vs. seeing him at the modern mall. I love it -- such an easy visual divide into the two worlds that Wen inhabits.

4) I LOVE the staging of Wen as an observer. He knew not to push the conversation about studying abroad with Li Ming, and was a natural supporter of Li Ming’s dreams. We knew the question that Wen wanted to ask Li Ming about Jim, and I appreciated Wen’s holding back and not pushing at that moment in the mall. It totally set the tone for Wen’s apparent compassion. (Also, Wen and his emotional awareness -- how he reacted to Jim’s paying Praew’s dowry also set that tone.)

5) The continued establishing of Jim as the head of his family/community: I’m emphasizing the EXTREME kindness of Jim’s paying Praew’s dowry. He clearly carries a tremendous amount of responsibility on his shoulders -- like a father. Where is this going to go, I wonder. (Harkening to Phupha and carrying the responsibility of safety for the village and his unit. I can’t help but compare, womp wompy.)

6) Speaking of Jim/Earth -- go AWN with that French tuck, Uncle. (Also, okay, good lord, I’ve never ever ever seen a vendor uncle with such clearly defined collarbones -- this is where we are bordering on the UNREALISTIC, GMMTV.)

7) Fourth and Gemini! I’m not watching My School President, so this is my first go-around with these fellas, and: I LIKE THEM, A LOT! Um, Earth and Mix, and Fourth and Gemini? Talk about NATURAL CHEMISTRY, the both of the couples. I LOVE how Li Ming and Heart are easily establishing their connection. The storyline between Li Ming and Heart does not seem contrived in the least. I really like how we have basically no idea where this is going to go -- the slow burn benefits here a lot. Fourth, get outta here with those pecs. 

What am I carrying the most from this episode? How the chemistry between Jim/Wen/Earth/Mix is providing so much INFRASTRUCTURE to this show. The show is SO easily carried just with the two of them interacting. What I loved about ATOTS is that all ATOTS needed was Tian and Phupha. It didn’t need side couples, side stories, side dramas. All it needed was Tian’s journey and their joint and developing attraction. I really liked that stripped-down, uncomplicated path to resolution. 

MC is a touch more intricate -- for me, in a good way. We got some shit to deal with, we know it. We know Jim is conflicted between Gaipa and Wen. We know the invisible presence of a companion for Wen. We know Wen will have to break that to Jim at some point. We know Jim has a past, and we need to know why he avoids commitment. We know that Gaipa will confront Jim. We know stuff will happen with Heart and Li Ming.

But: we know the story will circle back to Jim and Wen, and that’s why I say their pairing provides infrastructure. On them, the show will unwind and build up, and we as viewers can almost guarantee that it’ll be a great journey. 

Are Earth and Mix the best Thai coupling that I know of? I know I’m so far behind on Thai BLs that I’m missing great couplings. But, there is something about Earth and Mix’s ability to just FLOW with each other -- I don’t think I can describe it fully, but they match each other in their acting, and it’s UTTERLY fabulous. Their acting explodes with maturity and restraint, and it is just so wonderful to watch.

The Khao Man Gai Appreciation Rating for episode two is at 🐔🐔🐔: teach us the ways of chopping chicken, Uncle! I still need that apron. My money is totally on GMMTV figuring out a way to sell it. 

One thing I’m wondering (alright -- I’m PRAYING FOR THIS) is that each episode will feature a vignette about how to make KMG. Because it’s a dish that is just rooted in homey, nostalgic Thai food culture, I wonder (again with the nostalgia) if the ways in which the dish is made are leveraged against the slow burn development of the show. We shall see. 

[soundlesswind]

Dusseldorf, post-thoughts (extras)

Extended extra-post of the trip to Dusseldorf. Less to do with the con, and more microblogging. I had a good time, and also had some notable happenings that were kinda interesting.

(the photos in this post will be randomly placed)

First report --- Airport: I don't know why, but we went through TSA a total of three times on the way to Dusseldorf, which is a bit extra. It's roughly about a 7-8hr flight from east coast Canada to Frankfurt, and then another short half-hour trip from Frankfurt to Dusseldorf, but if you include all the wait time it's about a 10-16hr trip of just being in the airport. There were also some delays and plane mishaps but miraculously we made it to Germany without missing our connecting flight. Not much trouble on the way here, other than that everything is simply just really far apart.

Their TSA lines truly are vertical though when it comes to ticket class *laughs*... gosh we had to walk what felt like 10-miles through the path to the customs line because we weren't first class tickets, and there were several other stop points for other ticket types along the way. It really is a pay-for-convenience world. Not that it's unusual to have expedited lines for pricier tickets but it was weird being made to purposely walk through a much longer route along a mall strip for really no apparent reason (especially on an hour of leeway to the next flight). I could've gained some crazy miles on my fit-bit if I had brought it with me. But if I wasn't in a hurry, the walk might've been nice.

Very little AC runs throughout the buildings, if at all. And this is true for the majority of the trip, minus a few eateries and shops. Which I'm okay with, since I usually enjoy mildly warm temperatures, but I think it'd be pretty tough for people who run more hot as it is slightly humid from the rain. Although I did suffer running through the airport a bit, it wasn't too bad. It was cloudy all week, with only one day of rain, but I think that was a blessing in its own way.

I was warned in advance that finding toilets in Germany would be a bit difficult --- and it sort of is. Yes you can find one if you look, but there are signs leading up or down or to other paths for a toilet, and it was strange. Although I do quite prefer their low-water-flush toilets, and have a similar one myself. I kept some change on me all the time, since I was also told the toilets had to be paid for, but I didn't actually end up needing them since I was mostly either at the event or at the hotel. The hand-towel spinner seems really eco, though; as is their bottle-recycle-system. I think in terms of being more environmentally-friendly, NA is really behind the EU.

The trip from Dusseldorf airport to downtown is actually quite short and quick. Taxi fares aren't that bad at all. It's about 30-euros to and from my hotel. They also have Ub*r, which is cheaper, but I wasn't really in the mood to experiment with that, so cab it was.

It was super weird though, landing in Germany but staying in Dusseldorf's Little Tokyo...there were Asian shops all around, and it kinda didn't feel like I was in Germany (lol). But funny enough the same was true about Tokyo. When I got to Tokyo (Japan) --- the town square had changed so much, it became all American-brand shops so it felt like I was in America, and not Japan. Most of the Asian stores in the Dusseldorf area also seem Japanese-run, as they would automatically speak to me natively instead of opting for either German or English.

In terms of spending and pricing, everything is more or less rounded. I've only experienced round-prices in Asia but I didn't know it was the same in Germany. Just like Japan, tipping isn't a thing here either, which was nice because I didn't have to math out what I'd be paying at a tax rate I wasn't used to. Quite a difference from Canada or America where you sort of low-key get judged depending on how much you've tipped (sometimes pre-tipping or tipping is obligated).

Our hotel room was interesting...it adopts a system similar to a few other energy-conservation places where the electricity for the room only runs if you slot the card key into the holder. Otherwise the room's electricity, AC, and everything else stays off.

The strangest thing was the sink being outside of the bathroom. Interesting design choice? Is this common? I don't know. I probably should've asked the other guests staying at the other hotel.

There was one day where we rode on the shuttle with Toshio Maeda, an elderly gent, (who apparently is one of the forefather of tentacle erotica in Japan), and he mentioned his room being way too chillingly cold. Which, kind of seems like his room has central instead of individual thermostats. His English is great by the way (honestly had a George Takei vibe to it), and he had so much dirt on American cons, I laughed. I could tell by what he was saying, that he's been to a certain large US-based expo a number of times given that he understands their internal working structure way too well.

Initially, I knew he was a guest, but not what for, so when he said he was the forefather of tentacle porn, I was like "really!?". And then his wife, who sat beside me in the middle row explained (in Japanese) that they have a booth in the R18 section. I thought it was really cute they travelled together. Just an old couple, vending erotica.

We were staying in the same place as one of the bands, if I recall, but I only ran into them a handful of times. We had planned on mingling at the Saturday party, but I was too tired so my assist and I just went back, ate, and called it a night.

So the entirety of the weekend I asked around, whether it was staff or visitors, or people who lived in Germany for food recommendations, and oddly the responses seemed to be recommending me either Japanese food or they weren't sure because they don't live in the area, and at this point, I was eating too much Asian food and wanted authentic German food. The only issue was given the convention hours, I would be up too early or would be back too late to go anywhere (a lot of places close quite early-ish). It wasn't until the 4th or 5th day that I decided we were going to Ub*reats some locale food. The ofenfrische schweinshaxe (pork knuckle?) was amazing, by the way. 23 euros, even after conversion was still a steal. Food is just so much cheaper elsewhere than North America.

I had one free day left post-con to do exploration, unfortunately I wasn't feeling well so the full-day tour ended up being a quarter, but we still managed to see quite a bit within walking distance.

The locals were also very friendly, helpful, and multilingual. Even when the shopkeepers didn't speak English, there was always someone nearby who could and offered to help. Overall it was a nice trip.

Also, while it doesn't quite feel like island time or anything, being in Dusseldorf overall felt much less "rush-rush-rush" and way more relaxed than back at home.

I think if I visit again, it'd be nice to do a more thorough exploration of what the area has to offer. Overall it was a lovely trip.

...To end things off, though, I'll leave you with one hilarious story of the travel back home.

+-+-+-+-+-+

So I had bought some cookies and sausages as souvenirs for friends and family, and I put them all into my carry-on luggage...but while going through TSA, one of the sausages got dinged by the sensors. I was confused because it wasn't liquid or anything, it's just a really long whole sausage (around....35cm?), and the TSA officer was basically rummaging through the sausages and patting them and squeezing them down and eventually he says to me:

"This sausage, too soft, too squishy, you can't take this on board. This other one *squeezes firmly* it's ok, it's very firm and hard. *smacks it a few times*"

I was like, "Oh...okay..." (internally crying because it was kinda expensive, but also crying because I just literally lived through a dirty joke).

I think he felt really bad for me, but rules are rules? I didn't think soft meat would be considered too much like a liquid.

Anyway, the remaining sausages were tasty. The PSA is: be careful what you bring through TSA.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for tagging me, @omgpurplefattie!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

78 😅

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

864,062 - this is apparently just a bit more than Gone With The Wind....twice. I don't know how to feel about this.

What fandoms do you write for?

The Untamed (I have also written a handful of fics for Word of Honor and a very tiny one-shot for Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, but I'm definitely a CQL/MDZS author lol)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

You Need Tending - A very young, tiny Wangxian meet as children in Yunmeng and canon diverges sweetly from there.

Unexpected Solutions - LXC POV - What if the other sect leaders got to see the Burial Mounds instead of taking JGS's word for it that WWX was raising an army?

You Are Of Their Ilk - Sequel to You Need Tending, a LQR-centric fic examining what it's like to actually raise the Jades (and WWX) when he's got a Sect to run and parenting insecurities to overcome.

Plans To Make - A Wangxian-centric Time Travel Fix-it AU, technically the prequel fic to my first 3zun fic (in which the fixings-of-it have already been done and the post-canon, 5-years-in-seclusion Lan Xichen wakes up in the altered timeline wondering how the hell he has two husbands who are definitely not dead).

Professor Lan, Babysitter Extraordinaire - Modern AU Professor!LWJ spends an afternoon minding A-Yuan for Mature Student!WWX and is instantly charmed.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Sometimes! I used to respond to every single comment I got when I first started posting, but then I just got really overwhelmed and had to stop, and I've never picked up the habit again. If I feel particularly strongly about a comment or have something specific to say I'll try to respond, but otherwise I bask in them all silently (sorry, and I love y'all, I really do read every single comment I swear).

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Shadow's Call - An extremely depressed Lan Xichen is violently dragged out of his seclusion in the Hanshi 8 years post-canon by fierce corpse NieYao, who definitely aren't sentient at all but still somehow feel incomplete without their third.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Aside from The Shadow's Call all of my fics end happily!! I just can't do the depressing ones most of the time 😅 I think some of my favorite happy endings for various reasons, though, are The Sculptor, After Each Midnight Begins A New Day, anything in the Orville Peck Cinematic Universe, and anything from the 90's Strip Mall AU, Tales From Jianghu Shopping Center. (Everything in the last two especially is just pure feel-good fluff, not only the endings haha)

Do you get hate on fics?

Not anymore! The XiYao troll must have found something better to do so we can now like JGY in peace 😌

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do! I don't know what kind though 😅 the smutty kind? I don't really delve too deeply into kink or BDSM, and I don't write omegaverse or tentacles or anything all that creative; I just write what I would consider bog standard 'I'm ace and I understand people like doing this, I really hope the allos find this enjoyable to read' kind of smut. (Usually for me it's more about the emotional impact/character development use of it rather than the porn-y-ness of it, if that helps??)

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nope! I like writing AU's of my favorite ships blended with other media I like, but not direct crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Вони — це ми/ They Are Us is a Ukrainian translation by sandbranco of 'They Are Us', El escultor By Eleanor_Fenyx is a Spanish Translation by ellieffect and KabiBaali of 'The Sculptor', and another Spanish Translation of 'The Sculptor' by GabyObando13. I'm always so flattered when someone likes something of mine enough to do such an incredible labor of love as translating it ❤

What's your all-time favorite ship?

3zun, my beloveds

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Plans To Make - In an ideal world I would finish this soon so I can stop being eaten up with low-simmering guilt about it (along with several other projects, let's be real), but the fact of the matter is that I never actually wanted to write the full fix-it for this universe in the first place. I started Lan Xichen's introduction into this universe after the fix-it has already happened partially because I find that dynamic of a depressed Lan Xichen suddenly partnered with a happily married NieYao really interesting, but also because I don't like all the tangled threads of a universe-wide fix-it and I knew I'd get way too bogged down in details to really enjoy it. That's exactly what's happened, and that's partially why the fic has been sitting so long without an update. I do really want to finish it one day, though.

What are your writing strengths?

I occasionally get comments praising my characterization/character voices, so hopefully that's one. I also like to think that I do a decent job with accurately communicating both relatable and not-quite-as-relatable experiences - queerness of various flavors, neurodivergence, strangely specific life experiences...I usually try to write what I know, and I'm always happy when it resonates with people in the ways that I'd hoped for while writing them.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel like I can get sooo long-winded, and I'm also kind of bad for setting up plotty bits in my longer fics that I never actually follow through on.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

The furthest I'll go is honorifics that I'm confident with using, I absolutely do not trust myself or any online translator to attempt whole lines of dialogue.

First fandom you wrote for?

BBC Sherlock - those fics are all orphaned now, though

Favorite fic you've written?

I'm going to choose three just because I can: After Each Midnight Begins A New Day (3zun), The Sculptor (Wangxian), and Main Objective : Destroy Yiling Laozu (Breath of the Wild AU, my beloved)

I'm going to tag: @little-smartass, @wei--wuxian, @scarlet-gryphon, @wishthatiwasnessiesgirl, @threephasebird, and anyone else who writes who wants to play!

[cherishedteddie]

Oh goodie, just woke up from the first dream in a long while I remember a little bit about.

I was in target at first and assumed I was at a standalone, but apparently I was at a mall. It was basically filled with a ton of people I went to high school with.

At first when I was in target, I realized once I made I pretty deep into the store that I had forgot to put a mask on, but was too afraid to retrieve it from my fanny pack. (That just stems from a fear of reaching into my bag or pockets and having people assume I'm shop lifting)

I continue to walk around anxiously and then kept seeing people I knew. It became sort of a game of reverse Marco Polo. I would hear coughs either nearby or in the distance, so then I would book it in the opposite direction.

I finally found my way out out the store hoping to see a ride waiting to take me home, but this is when I release that I was in a mall?? Are there targets in malls? I haven't been to mall in so long, I wouldn't even know.

At this point walking through the place seeing the other storefronts and one that catches my eye is a Too Faced. While walking closer towards it I noticed two things. One: the store isn't actually open. Two; I see another person I know and our eyes meet. Smile. (I remember in real life wanting to be friends with her, but it never actually happened. She was kind to me and would always say hi but her friend group had people in it that would make fun of me and so by association it was never gonna work)

We haven't yet made it close enough to the store but are soon approaching. I don't wanna look like I'm staring at her, so I try to look sort of head on, stealing a few glances to make sure I don't pass the storefront up when I feel something damp brush my left hand. It was a big hog. At that point I turn to look at it then look back at the familiar girl and she smiles so I smile back. I look again and th hog is not sitting next to me as I stol by the store. It's lit up and they have this bowl on a small podium with small makeup samples that almost seem fashioned as a "take one piece* trick or treat setup. I see the girl already made it up the steps to peer into the building. Some lights are on but there's nobody there and the narrow hallway that leads to the entrance is blocked by a thin strip or pink caution tape. She comes back down and starts to chat me up, feels like small talk which I'm terrible with. At some point she brings up that too faced is pricy and I agree. I mention they probably have two sales a year and that's how I was able to get my one and only piece from them, one of the chocolate palettes. I then jokr I still had it and wonder if it's still good to use. She asks me if it still smells like chocolate and I said I'm sure it does.

At which point I wake up with the intentions of going to find that palette and sniff it, but my tum hurts so instead I take a little bit of Pepto and type out this really mundane dream. I have an hour before I Need to be awake, so I'm gonna try to get back to sleep 😴

[the-kneesbees]

they have so much space why can't they build a drive in theater or a dog park or just leave it as it is and add a few more stands so we could have a farmers market or something. literally anything other than another fucking strip mall

[morizoras-cave]

Persistent (Request)

Marvel cast x f!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst-ish, fluff

Request Description: Hellooo! Could you write a all the marvel cast men x teen! reader? Like they all go out to eat and hangout at a mall or something and when she goes in the women’s part of a store while they are all on the men’s side, some creepy dude keeps on hitting on her and like after she tries to politely decline his attempts and stuff rdj and the rest are like nuh uh this ain’t happening lol

Warnings: language, hints at smexual stuff, harassment, persistent asshole 

(A/N): this story includes anthony mackie, winston duke, sebastian stan, chris evans, robert downey jr and mark ruffalo. im sorry i didnt include alllll of the marvel dudes, but i just find it hard to cram them all into one fic :((( ALSO sorry if the ending is shitty hgssghsgsh

“You don’t have to bring me with you.”

“It’s too late, we’re bringing you.”

“But-” 

“Y/n, you are not spending your birthday alone!” 

You and Anthony were bickering like always. There was a short break in filming the next marvel movie, and while many people, including you, were planning on going home for the week, Sebastian, Anthony, Winston, Chris and Tom and arranged a ‘guys night out’, if you will. 

You were going to enjoy your birthday that day with your family, but a couple of days before your family had cancelled, because of exams and overloading work. They promised you’d celebrate some other day, but you were still bummed out.

Anyway, Anthony had somehow reluctantly made you admit that you were celebrating alone, and had decided to instead drag you with him and the guys to their ‘night out’. 

“I don’t wanna come and just be a bother to everyone,” you mumbled. Anthony sighed and looked at you. He then diverted his eyes back to the road. 

“You’re not bothering anyone, N/n.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to cancel your plans to the strip club or whatever you were gonna do!” You stressed. Anthony gasped like a TV mean girl.

“Did you really think we were gonna go to a strip club? Y/n, that’s private business, you don’t do that with your guys.” 

“Well, what then?” 

The mall, apparently. 

You and Anthony both stood with your necks craned to look at the proud and boasting sign, ‘mall of America’. He’d shut up after your question and just parked the car, leading you to stand exactly there, in front of that famous mall. 

“You’re gonna go shopping?” you looked at him. 

“Yeah, and what about it?” 

Before you could start another argument with Anthony, you heard a familiar ‘hey!’ and snapped your head in the direction of the caller. Winston, Sebastian, Chris, Robert and Mark were all gathered together, seemingly waiting for you two. 

“Hey, there you are! We were waiting for you,” Chris said with his usual big, dorky smile on his lips. Him and Anthony hugged and then he pulled back to look at you. 

“Y/n, you okay with spending your birthday with us?” 

“Whatever, man,” was all you could say, making the group burst into laughter. 

You would never admit it to Anthony, or any of the others for that matter, but it was actually a lot of fun. You went into many stores for no apparent reason. The guys bought and helped you make a Build-A-Bear, which you named Svenbjorn, and he had a little detective suit and a little bag. 

You ate at a Denny’s, where Mark unfortunately, but rather predictably, spilled maple syrup on himself. Then you looked around stores for fancy suits and clothes and gifts for their loved ones. Your mood was brightened, and the guys sure didn’t seem to be displeased that you were there. 

“Let’s go in here real quick,” Sebastian had said, and everyone walked with him into the clothing store. You hadn’t actually bought anything that day, so you decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look around a bit.

“I’m gonna go to the women’s section,” you said, pointing to the area at the other end of the store. 

“Sure,” Robert waved you off, as him and the others crowded around a blue suit. You rolled your eyes and bounded off to the women’s area. 

Your eyes found a pretty yellow shirt hanging on a rack near the back. You quickly made your way to it, standing and admiring it, checking the fabric and the price. 

“Hey, babygirl,” a cocky voice sounded beside you. You turned your head to see a boy around your age, an ugly smirk on his lips. His words almost made you vomit the Denny’s pancakes you’d just eaten, but you shook off the feeling. 

“Uh, hey,” you mumbled, turning back to the shirt. Now you fiddled with it nervously. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone, huh?” his voice was strangely predatory, something about it just didn’t sit right with you. It made you feel alerted and uncomfortable. 

“Looking at shirts..”

“I bet you’d look good in this one,” he said. You didn’t have to look to know he’d found some sheer-ass, see through, titty exposer. You did however peep, and, yes.. You were right. 

“Look, I’m not interested,” you sighed. 

“That’s too bad, girlie, I could make you feel real good.”

You scrunched up your nose in disgust. Your fingers gave up their grasp on the shirt, deciding that it would be best to just get out of there. The sound of your boots hitting the shiny floor sounded, as you began padding away.

“Hey, wait, where are you going?” you heard him walking behind you, the action of persistence making your heartbeat speed up. You were now panicking.

“Hey! Why are you following her?” you breathed out in relief. Winston was standing not too far away, Sebastian and Anthony behind him. He had lowered his voice to sound more threatening, which you normally would laugh at, but considering the situation, you were pretty relieved he did it. 

All the three men looked pretty damn angry. You didn’t know how much of the conversation they’d heard, but obviously enough. Hearing another set of boots, you snapped your head to see Chris, Mark and Robert jogging towards the scene. You made eye contact with Chris, who furrowed his brows in confusion. 

The boy was now looking at the six angry and buff men, swallowing fearfully. He was shaking and surely starting to sweat. You smirked. Asshole. You walked over to stand between Sebastian and Chris.

“Are you okay?” they both murmured, searching your eyes worriedly. The fact that they were so protective of you made you smile a bit. Although, the thought that you needed several men with you to the mall to protect you kind of sucked.

“I’m alright,” you said. Meanwhile, Winston, Anthony and Robert were approaching the kid with disapproving looks. 

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you to respect women? Huh?”

“What’s your issue, kid? You had such a big mouth just a moment ago?”

“Don’t ever talk to any woman like that ever again, you hear me?” 

They didn’t even touch him, just the anger and seriousness in their voices and on their faces was enough to get the message into the kids head. He nodded, breath shaking. Then, he dashed off between Winston and Anthony, running out of the store, like a dog with its tail between its hind legs. 

When the other three turned back to you, they were still angry. 

“I can’t believe him! I can’t believe that asshole!” Anthony muttered, disbelief ridden in his voice. Winston had grown softer, looking down at you in concern. 

“Are you okay, N/n? He didn’t touch you, did he?” You could tell he was actually worried. 

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s okay, guys, it really wasn’t that serious,” you explained, wanting them to calm down. You couldn’t be the reason why their ‘guys night’ was ruined.

“Not that serious? Y/n, he wasn’t backing off when you told him to!” Robert seemed even angrier that you were denying the severity of the issue. You just shrugged.

“This kind of stuff happens all the time, this time I just had you guys with me,” you explained. By the looks on their faces, that wasn’t the most reassuring answer. In fact, even Chris and Sebastian and Mark (the sweetest human being ever, theoretically incapable of feeling anger) were angry now, scoffing. 

“That’s not- That’s-” Chris put his hands on his hips like an angry mom. Sebastian squeezed your shoulder, making you look at him, to see his jaw clenched. 

“Y/n, if that ever happens to you, no matter how big or small, just call us, please,” Anthony said, eyes catching yours to express how serious he was. You nodded. “I mean that shit.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you.” 

There was a moment of silence where everyone just basked in their anger, before Mark spoke up. 

“Hey, how about we just continue as planned and go watch a movie at the cinema?” 

Reluctantly, everyone started walking to the cinema. You noticed how your walking formation had changed, almost caging you in, protecting you. Although you, Mark and Winston kept a pretty solid conversation, you couldn’t help but overhear the other’s talking about how angry they still were. Of course, they had every right to. 

The night turned out alright again, as they slowly shook off their anger. The movie was great, and it created something new to talk about other than the ‘disrespectful little shit from earlier’. 

When Anthony drove you both back to the hotel you were both staying at, he had another serious conversation with you. He talked about staying safe and keeping a backup weapon and such.

He wasn’t usually serious, so you listened carefully. You were thankful that they had been there that day. So were they. And from that day on they all were a little bit more protective with you - whether it was in interviews or just in daily life - they kept you close and was always slightly suspicious of anyone talking to you. 

It meant a lot to you, and you thanked them, both for their protection, for an awesome birthday, and for one bitchin’ build-a-bear :)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun

[ellewriteswrongs]

picking favorites (a @tsbandau drabble)

if y’all aren’t emotionally invested in @underdog-arts ‘s band au, idk what y’all are even doing /j

anyway, here’s a wholesome family drabble insp. by the band au and my (not-so) subtle obsession with remus and janus. also subbing to their patreon is the best $5 i’ve probably ever spent, no joke

“Honey, you can still pick up Ry, right?” Janus called down the hallway, carrying a basket of laundry on each hip before depositing them in the hallway to put away later. Remus was seated in their shared office catching up on emails as Janus began packing up leftover pasta into containers to take to their show scheduled that night. 

“I told you I got ‘em,” he agreed, banging the last clumps of his protein shake into his mouth with the heel of his hand. “I’m gonna’ jog to V’s and grab the van.”

Janus nodded to themself out of instinct before faltering, their brow furrowing. 

“Wait—Re, that’s like three miles,” they challenged, dumping the dirtied dishes into the sink. “Just take the fucking car.”

Remus’ snort laugh was audible from down the hallway. 

“They asked for the van!” Remus cackled. “And I, for one, do not disappoint. Apparently making my kid’s friends think they’re cool is worth a three-mile jog.”

Janus rolled their eyes, albeit fondly. This was, unfortunately, not news. 

Riley was having an…interesting phase. It wouldn’t be abnormal for kids their age if it weren’t for the fact that their parents were ridiculously competitive, and all of their parents’ friends were eager to get in on it. 

As soon as Remus attended career day in Riley’s first grade classroom, resulting in the entire class of six-year-olds marveling at the fact that their friend’s dad was a “rock star.”

Janus loved that conversation over dinner that night. 

They weren’t jealous. No, in fact, it was probably overdue for Riley to have a bit of a “Daddy’s kid” phase, considering how joined at the hip they were with Janus for multiple years now. But they wanted to win. 

Riley could make their own decisions about picking a favorite parent. As long as that decision was Janus. 

“You’ve gone so-oft,” they sing-songed, smirking as Remus appeared in the kitchen behind them, wrapping one hand around their hip and pressing a kiss to their temple. “Ry’s got you wrapped around their finger.”

Remus have a flash of his crooked grin. 

“Yeah, well…at least I know where they get that from.”

Janus rolled their eyes, trying to hide their reddening face. 

“Sap,” they grumbled fondly. “Hurry up and get on with your run before you’re late to pickup. And tell V I said hey.”

Remus gave an exasperated chuckle and affirmation, but pocketed his keys and wallet nonetheless. 

The jog to Virgil’s apartment wasn’t a particularly strenuous three miles, being downtown and all, and Remus was far from out of shape. Still, three miles was three miles—especially in the late afternoon sun. Needless to say, Virgil wasn’t thrilled to have a giant sweaty man on his doorstep, but he handed over the keys nonetheless. 

The van was old, still clinging to its axels from when Remus himself purchased it from an old neighbor and declared it the band’s “tour bus.” It was nice enough at the time, especially for the price he paid, but it certainly wasn’t still around for anything more than sentimental value. 

Mainly just Remus refusing to get rid of it. 

That, and the fact that, for whatever reason, Riley thought it was the coolest thing ever. 

The drive wasn’t long, only the sitting in traffic of other parents in minivans trying to get into the school parking lot. He…wasn’t a fan of that part of being a parent, that’s for sure. He could do without any other parents, thank you very much, but at least it was fun to see how obvious all of them were in their distaste of both him and Janus, compared to how much their kid absolutely adored them. 

A fact that was only proven when Remus eventually made it to the parking lot and exited his van, only to be met with ear-splitting squeal of “daddy!” and an armful of six-year-old. 

He can’t deny how, even after all these years, the title still makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Like…he is a dad. That’s his kid! How fucking rad is that!

He happens to spot a few other parents, along with some of Riley’s friends that he recognizes, and he offers a quick wave with the hand that isn’t mussing up his kid’s hair. 

“You brought the van,” Riley points out with a toothy grin that Remus can’t help mirroring. He can’t help the knot in his throat when he spots the gap in their teeth from their first ever lost tooth—which only meant they were getting much too old and Remus would really appreciate it if they would slow the fuck down.

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Riley nods, bouncing on Remus’ hip just a bit out of excitement. “I gotta’ warn you though, JJ’s getting pretty jealous.”

Riley laughs before sticking out their tongue and making a fart noise in Remus’s face. 

Remus is, for the thousandth time, bewildered at how Riley couldn’t possibly be more like Janus if they tried. And mostly smitten. He has the coolest kid on Earth, after all. 

“They can suck my butt!” Riley squeals and Jesus Christ, Remus is going to have a heart attack right there in the parking lot. He’s gonna’ have to grill Jan again to make sure those two aren’t secretly biologically related. 

“Hey, your words not mine, squirt,” he smirks, opening the van door and strapping them into the car seat. “And your early bedtime if you let JJ hear any of that.”

He finishes with a pinch on their nose before closing the van door and getting back in the driver’s seat. 

Riley, as soon as the radio turn on, starts protesting very aggressively to listen to “your songs, daddy! Play your songs!” 

Thankfully, he has a CD burned with some of their…cleaner songs for that exact purpose. 

Riley, for lack of a better word, was ‘singing’ along at a volume that Remus would’ve otherwise found hilarious and impressive if it wasn’t right in his ear. Still, there was a certain fondness that came with watching his kid’s excitement over his work—something that, as usual, was paired with thrashing within the confines of a car seat and headbanging their little heart out. 

Along the drive Remus made every attempt to stop the barrage of the screamo singer in the making, but all were ultimately unsuccessful. At least…until he pointed out one particular building out of a strip mall assortment. 

“Hey, you see that store right there? The one with the red sign?” He spoke up, catching Riley’s eager attention in an instant. They placed both hands on the van window to look out. 

“What is it?” They asked, squinting to try and read what was on the sign. 

“You know the snake on my leg?” Riley nodded, quieting down. “That’s where JJ took me to get it.”

They paused, seemingly putting some pieces together in their head.

“How come you only have one?” They asked, still kicking their legs against their seat. “JJ has lots, how come you don’t have lots too?”

Remus chuckled, continuing along the road as the light turned green. 

“‘Cause I don’t need another one. They’re very expensive, you know.”

“Is it ‘cause you’re a wimp?” 

Remus choked on his own spit. 

“N-no,” he choked out, laughing. “No I’m not, I just think it looks better this way.”

He didn’t bother looking into the backseat to see what Riley thought of that answer, but if the return to karaoke that followed was any indication, they were not impressed. Still, he’d probably take the teasing over the screaming, but kids are kids. 

Even as they pulled into their driveway, Remus had to strategically dodge Riley’s flailing limbs in order to un-fasten the seatbelts on their car seat and actually get them in the house. Apparently the music was not as vital to the ‘sing-along’ as he’d hoped it was when he turned the car off. 

“Alright, alright, calm those legs down before you knock my teeth out, will ya’?” Remus teased, placing Riley on his shoulders where they instantly took fistfuls of his hair to hold on. Riley toned down the velocity, but otherwise did not stop. “Careful, squirt, if you wanna’ kick so bad, I’m signing you up to play soccer.”

Riley stopped almost instantaneously, gripping Remus’ hair even tighter as they headed back inside the house, Riley’s tiny backpack slung around Remus’ forearm. 

“Nooo,” they wailed, half punctuated by laughter that echoed through the house. 

“What are we complaining about?” Janus spoke, leaning against the doorway across the room with a fond smile. 

“He said if I kick him in the teeth I have to play soccer,” Riley whined, attempting to climb down from Remus’ shoulders on their own. Janus snorted a laugh before swiftly crossing the room to collect their child and place them on their hip. 

“Wow, your daddy’s so mean,” Janus agreed, raising a challenging eyebrow as they stood in front of their husband. Remus pouted before bending down to steal a kiss.

“Gross,” Riley giggled, pressing a hand on each of their parents’ faces to separate them. 

“Gross?” Janus smirked. “Well in that case, maybe your dad was being a bit unfair.”

Riley turned to Remus to stick out their tongue at him. 

“I mean, soccer? That’s just ridiculous,” Janus continued, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “We’ll obviously have to sign you up for football instead. A punt like that has got to be put to good use.”

Riley immediately went back to their dramatized complaining, this time reaching desperately for Remus to get him to take them back from Janus—to which Remus just held up his hands in mock innocence.

“No can do, kid,” he smirked. “The punishment has to fit the crime, after all.”

Riley continued their attempts to wiggle out of Janus’ unyielding grip.

“Never!” They declared, trying a different approach of reaching over Janus’ shoulder to escape from behind. “I won’t! I won’t do it, I promise!”

Remus and Janus both knew they wouldn’t actively try to hurt either of them, but sometimes it was just more fun to assert rules when it came with shrieking laughter and climbing their parents like a jungle gym.

“Well, now you know where we stand,” Remus spoke in false authority, reaching for one of Riley’s tiny shoes and holding it up to address it as if it were in control of their legs. “I better not see you around these parts again, ya’ hear?” He added in an over-the-top western accent, gesturing to his face. 

Riley squealed with laughter as he held out his hand for a handshake and they shook it with their accused foot. 

“Alright, alright, you two,” Janus intervened with fond exasperation. “Snacks are on the counter, take it or leave it.”

Riley whipped their head around to peer into the kitchen, cheering when they spotted two plates on the kitchen counter, each with a toaster waffle piled high with blueberries. 

“Second…breakfast!” They cheered, drumroll-ing on their leg before whooping and slinking out of Janus’ grip and climbing up onto the kitchen barstools. Remus, giving a fond eye-roll at the enthusiasm, turned to drape his arms over Janus’ shoulders from behind, perching his chin on top of their head. 

“They get it from you, you know,” he mumbled, smirking at the scoff it earned him. 

“Shut up,” Janus grumbled, the smile evident in their voice. “That is all you.”

“Babe, sports are a threat in this house,” he teased. “You’re telling me that came from me?”

“Yeah, I’ll take that one,” they chided, turning around to face their husband. “As long as you’re aware that the energy, the volume—honey, that’s all you.”

Remus quirked his brow with a proud smirk. 

“Or maybe it’s the fact that they sleep for fourteen hours and we haven’t even had eight in the last six years,” he challenged knowingly. “You know, I happen to remember that back in the day…that bed was hardly even for sleeping.”

Janus snorted, their face reddening slightly.

“Is it bad to think of those as the ‘good old days’ already?”

Remus swept a piece of their hair out of their face. 

“Hell no, dude. We lived like kings back then,” he chuckled. “How ‘bout this—I’ll get Ro to take ‘em to the park or something this weekend and I’ll dick you down just like old times, ‘kay?”

Janus sputtered out a cackle, smacking Remus on the chest before covering his mouth with their hand.

“Fucking christ, they’re like two yards away,” they hissed, still laughing. “I am not going to be the one fielding questions about what getting dicked down means, oh my god.”

“You say that like they listen to anything when there’s food in front of them,” Remus countered, nodding in the direction of their kid as Janus rolled their eyes with a chuckle. 

“Now that, is from you,” they grinned, jabbing him in the side with their elbow. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re serving up delicacies like toaster waffles,” Remus said, raising his hands in mock defense. 

Janus gave him a look before crossing their arms. 

“Yeah, well, you’re lucky I know you can’t go two hours without food. Go on, there’s one for you, even if it’s probably cold by now,” they teased as Remus excitedly kissed their forehead before practically running to the kitchen. He hopped up to sit on the counter, folding each toaster waffle like a blueberry-filled taco before funneling them into his mouth. 

Janus followed close behind—at a normal pace, thank you very much—and took the actual seat next to their kid, sipping at the cup of tea they had left on the counter before the two had returned home as they listened to Riley regaling their day at school.

———

Realistically, Remus probably should’ve seen it coming. He was a couple days past his previous record of days as Riley’s “favorite” and he knew he likely didn’t have much longer before Janus dethroned him again, but he certainly hadn’t expected the scene he walked in on that night. 

He had heard hushed laughter coming from one of their house’s bathrooms that evening, assuming at first that Janus was just handling Riley’s bath or something like that, but as he cleaned up the mess from their dinner and finished washing the rest of their dishes, he was surprised to find they were still in there. So obviously he had to investigate. 

He knocked on the door, rolling his eyes fondly as shushing and giggles came from within. 

“Everything good in there?” He teased, leaning against the door. “I gotta’ say, I’m a little hurt I didn’t get invited to whatever club this is that hangs out in the bathroom.”

More giggles followed by the oh-so familiar sound of Janus’ shushing. 

“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself what all the fuss is about,” he sing-songed, slowly creaking open the door before letting out a snort laugh at the scene before him. 

Janus was seated on the edge of the bathtub, wash cloth in hand, as Riley sat on the sink counter, covered on all limbs with temporary tattoos. At least the pieces of tape that Janus had cut into circles and colored black to look like ear gauges were admittedly cute. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” he smirked from against the doorframe. 

“JJ said you’re a wimp,” Riley proudly announced. “I was right.”

Janus stuck their tongue out and made a spitting noise and…yeah, that was their kid alright. Not that Remus would have it any other way. 

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt.3 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Before you read you should know that I adjusted the timeline a little, all mistakes in the timeline that you are noticing are on purpose. Also I decided to let johnny keep his black Cobra Kai car in that one. Then I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I lowkey drifted away from the actual request but don’t worry, I’m coming back to that. It’s the second last part to this little series. Enjoy.

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, ANGST, a little fluff

Wordcount: 2650

"Jesus Christ, (Y/N), thank god you're finally here!" was the first thing you heard from Jenny as soon as you set foot into the bar for yet another late shift on a boring Thursday night.

"We've been waiting for you for hours!" Jenny said and grabbed your arm dragging you further inside. You were staggered, "What the fuck, Jen, I'm not even late, I know I was yesterday but I'm perfectly on time today! Look," you pointed towards a clock on the wall "8 pm sharp."

"Jesus, don't you ever check your phone?" she went on ignoring you. And as a matter of fact, you didn't. You trashed it a couple of days ago as a result of a drunk rage after another shift without your favourite regular. That's why you've been borrowing your colleague’s phone to call yourself an Uber home. But that was still not helping you understand why you were needed so much. Apparently, the bar was waiting for your arrival since the opening at last. In the distance, behind the almost empty counter you saw the staff door opening and Kenny making his way to you in a quick pace.

"She's is here!" Jenny called out to him as if he wasn't able to see that for himself.

"Finally."

"What the fuck?" you asked again, trying to think of all the things you could've done wrong in the past weeks, but you couldn't find any. You never messed up a drink, you always locked the doors, you even cleaned the puke in the men's bathroom. "Am I in trouble?"

Kenny shook his head, you looked at him quizzically.

"It's about your boyfriend," Jenny helped him out answering. You almost blurted out 'He's not my boyfriend' as it was already on the tip of your tongue because you were so deeply conditioned to say that. But when your glance skipped over the almost empty seats by the counter again, your heart suddenly skipped a beat and when it was back at keeping you alive it started beating so hard against your ribs as if it was about to burst. Johnny was back.

"He's been here since we opened at 5," Kenny said, sounding a little annoyed "He's drunk off his ass, came in drunk already, and refuses to leave until he sees you. We tried to throw him out but he's one persistent motherfucker and lowkey aggressive, muttering your name saying he needs to talk to you and nobody else."

"Yeah, maybe you should go and talk to him" Jenny affirmed. But you were already on your way. Without a word you almost stormed over.

At first you wouldn't have noticed him. He didn't look like himself, sitting there on his regular seat at the end, head hanging, covered by his hands. He looked rough.

The two weeks he didn't show himself, you almost started hating him. You thought him to be like any other man on earth who, after they broke you, finally got you to get soft towards them, waking your interest after hundreds of times trying, just disappeared without a trace. First you were blaming yourself, asking yourself if you went too far with your little game of pretend, whilst still waiting every day for him.  Had it been too much for him saving you the other day and getting his face bashed in for you? You wished he'd come and tell you what a bitch he thought you were to your face. Then you despised him for giving you up so quickly. But as soon as you laid eyes on him all these negative thoughts disappeared, and you were just concerned. Concerned about his condition, only the question inside your head how on earth you, a simple barkeeper, were able to help him with that. You grabbed a bottle of whisky and simply headed to the other side of the counter, not standing in front but sitting next to him this time. The worst about it, he didn't even take notice of you at first.

"Johnny," you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Like being electrocuted by this touch, he winced but finally looked up. You almost gasped at his appearance. Normally he was always clean shaven, now he looked like hadn't shaved in days. Besides that, he was also hurt. At first you thought his injuries might still be from his encounter with the three men that were bothering you, but the scratches and bruises were fresh, and a band aid was sticking to his forehead that wasn't needed before. Johnny blankly stared at you from his bloodshot eyes and you suddenly felt the urge to hug him. But you resisted, first you had to get him to talk. Instead, you grabbed two of the glasses in front of Johnny uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured you one. You took a sip of the burning liquid hoping for some courage to miraculously appear as you watched Johnny silently drinking, too.

Kenny walked by on the way back to his office, judgingly eyeing you.

"Damn, I have to start taking all the booze you're drinking here from your paycheck, (Y/N), slow the fuck down, would you?" he said sighing with one foot already inside. Out of a sudden Johnny snapped.

"Jesus Kenny, don't wet your precious leather pants," he shouted out, slamming his glass on the counter "I'm gonna pay for it! Let a girl enjoy her drink for once" Some heads turned in your direction.

You held still for a second and didn't dare to breathe, afraid of another fight to happen since normally Kenny didn't allow anybody talk to him like that. But he simply shook his head and closed the door behind him, muttering something like "This girl actually has to work here, but whatever" leaving you alone with Johnny.

"You look hot, as always," he said trying to smile, yet the smile didn't reach his sad eyes. He almost looked like he's been crying.

"And you look like shit."

"You mean that?" he gestured at his face noticing your gaze upon his massive black eye. You nodded.

"That's nothing."

"What happened, Johnny?" you asked but he did not answer and just kept on sitting in silence, sipping his drink from time to time. Then, after what seemed like forever, he finally looked you straight in the eyes.

"I fucked up, (Y/N), that's what happened, I fucked up big time."

"Tell me!"

"As if you give two shits about it, you probably wouldn't care. You fucking despise me and my sorry ass."

"I do care!"

“Nah, you wouldn’t!”

You sprung off your seat, you did not expect that coming out of his mouth, also it hurt to hear him say that, because you really did care about him! You probably cared about him more than anything in your life at the moment. But if he was going to be a bitch to you so were you.

“Well, don’t waste my fucking time then!” you exclaimed “And stop annoying everyone that you need to see talk to me instead of fucking off. I can gladly leave you all by yourself so you can keep on pitying yourself. Nice seeing you, jerk!”

And you were about to storm off, go back to pretending to work just like you did every other day when there was nothing else to do, when you instantly heard a “(Y/N), wait!”

You turned around and saw Johnny, now more miserable than ever, showing at your seat inviting you to sit back down. You swallowed your pride and did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said “I just can’t believe that someone would actually give a shit about me at all. And I did want to talk to you, I still do. You’re the only one I want to see right now.” “Then tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s this kid,” he started sighed and stopped, then took another sip of his whisky and began again “I have a dojo in a strip mall, I’m a sensei,” “What’s that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and you felt stupid. Johnny looked at you, completely staggered, forgetting his pain for a moment. Proving you that it was in fact a probably very stupid question.

“It’s a Karate place, I teach Karate there.”

“Go on.”

“I have a shit ton of nerds that I teach but they’re mostly good kids, they got bullied a lot before, but I helped them, I showed them how to kick ass, so no one dares to fuck with them anymore. There’s this one kid, Miguel, I’ve been teaching him since the beginning, he actually gave me the idea to open a dojo, he begged me to and he’s a great kid, he really grew on me. He lives next door with his mom and grandma, they’re great people, Mexicans. I even learned a bit of Spanish from them. And I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately. I really, really liked him.”

He rubbed his eyes and stopped talking.

“What do you mean you liked him?” you asked carefully and studied Johnny’s face that he covered with his hands again.

“There’s more to the story. There’s another dojo in town, fucking Miyagi-Do. Of course, you can’t expect only one dojo to be there in L.A but how I wish that at least that one wouldn’t exist. The sensei is a twat. I fucking hate this guy. And his kids started fighting with my kids at school and not like throwing some punches at each other and leaving it be after somebody starts crying. No, they started a fucking Karate War at school. I mean, I get it, when I was their age I also took Karate way too seriously but letting it go this far? I don’t know, I can’t really understand that. It got out of hand real quick two weeks ago.”

“Fuck, did something bad happen?” you wondered and poured yourself and Johnny another whisky.

He nodded and stared into the distance. You waited for him to answer.

“There was a fight two weeks ago and apparently it got really bad. Miguel got kicked off a balcony at school, he fell two stories deep, spine-first onto a handrail.” You gasped. You school also had problems with fighting, a lot to be precise but as far as you knew, no one got kicked off from somewhere.

“He’s been in a coma now for two weeks and they say that the chances of waking up from a coma after two weeks are pretty miserable. He might as well be dead by now.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” you said although not knowing shit about coma, you just wanted t comfort Johnny. You could not stand seeing him so broken you even wished he would go back to his old nature again, hitting on you, joking and just having a good time “He’s probably going to wake up soon and go back to Karate again.”  

“You don’t know that!” Johnny said raising his voice, “He broke his fucking spine, (Y/N), even if he wakes up, he’s probably going to be crippled for his whole life.”

He took a deep breath and drank his whisky at once, grunting at the burning feeling in his throat.

“And now my own kid is in fucking juvie for kicking Miguel of a railing and he won’t even talk to me!”

“Wait, you have a kid?” you wondered and stared at Johnny wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say, this was surely a surprise for you. And Johnny went on with his rant.

“Yeah, Robby, he’s 17. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s locked up, doesn’t want to hear a word from me, but that’s okay,” his voice was cynical, you could hear how much despised himself right in the moment and it was painful to see.

“I’ve been a shit father anyways, right? Every single day of his life I’ve been failing him. I wasn’t around much. I did nothing to keep him out of trouble. If so, I only made it worse, I only pushed him to train with Miyagi-Do and what happened to Miguel is all on me.” Despite calming himself down with a drink, Johnny’s voice got louder with every word he spoke. Again, heads were turning towards you, but you didn’t care.

“It’s not your fault what happened,” you said calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was so tensed that you might as well have been touching a stone. And Johnny shook your hand of and let out a hateful laugh.

“Not my fault?” he shouted his lungs out “Who else’s fault is it then? Of course, it is mine. It is all on me, I fucked up. I fucked up both Robby’s and Miguel’s lives and on top of that mine’s not that great either. I spent the night in a fucking cell.”

“Calm down, Johnny,” you said softly and finally went in for a hug “It’s going to be okay; I promise!”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled as you wrapped your arms around him tightly pressing yourself against his trembling chest. At first, he let his arms sink and didn’t do anything, he kept on shouting, making even more heads turn towards all the noise, but then suddenly he buried his scrubby face into crook of your neck and sighed, finally placing his hands on your back, finally relaxing, firmly embracing you. You could’ve stayed like that for ever.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get him out of here!”, you suddenly heard Kenny who stood there, arms crossed, watching you, “He’s scaring off the people.”

You released Johnny from your hold who went back to staring down the counter whilst burying his face in his rough hands, just the way you have found him.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bring him home.”

“Yeah, sure, feel free to come back to work whenever you’re ready, no rush. Or maybe you want to do home office instead?” said Kenny sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Kenny, I can’t let him go home like this alone, he’ll kill himself on the way. Besides, he’s probably the reason this place still hasn’t gone bankrupt. And I’m the reason he keeps coming, so maybe we owe him that?”

The big biker in front of you didn’t look too happy but he knew you were right, still, he wasn’t that easy to convince.

“Come on,” you said putting on your best puppy eyes, trying to look all cute because you knew the old man liked you deep inside “I’ll do double shift tomorrow, I promise. But just please let me go.”

Kenny stood motionless.

“Please?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll cover for you. But if you don’t come in early tomorrow…” “I know, I know, you’ll fire me” you finished his sentence and smiled at him.

Then you nudged Johnny who was not getting any of the conversation you just had and told him about your plan about getting him home. He stood up and he clearly wasn’t very strong on his feet. He was swaying from side to side on the way out.

“Okay, give me your keys, Johnny,” you said when you arrived at his black dodge. Normally you would have made fun of the yellow stripes and snakes all over, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I think I remember you telling me that you don’t have a license anymore and that you’re not willing to get involved into DUIs anymore.” And yet he submissively handed you over his car keys. You shrugged and got in the car, waiting for him to take the shotgun seat.

“I guess we all have to make exceptions sometimes. Now concentrate and lead me the way.”

“Thank you” Johnny said, his voice now all raspy and he suddenly looked tired “Now you are saving my ass.”

**************************************************************************************

PART 4

Already working on part 4 whether you like it or not, I’m too invested in that one

Sorry to all waiting for their requests to be written, I’ll soon be on it

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @lililolli​ (you want to be on the taglist, too? drop me a message)

[joonie-beanie]

The OM! Characters as Retail Workers/Positions from my old job

Full disclosure: I’ve only had 1 retail job, and it was at a Homegoods. I worked there for 3+ years during college. Because I’ve only had this one experience, my below hc’s for the boys may be a little...specific to my previous job, and not universal traits that come with all retail jobs. 

Also I’m not including Luke because thattttt is child labor.

This is probably a very self-indulgent headcannon. Oh well.

Lucifer: 

(One of) the store managers. Specifically the assistant manager.

Nice to customers to their face, but will fantasize about stabbing them once they leave. 

Asmo once walked past the manager’s office and witnessed Lucifer professionally apologizing to a bitching customer over the phone, only to slam the receiver down moments later, sighing and mumbling “what an idiot.”

Very watchful of his staff. Do not slack off while he’s working....unless he likes you. In which case, he will take a moment to chat with you and give himself a much needed break. 

If he doesn’t like you, well...make yourself busy, or else you’ll get a stern talking to, and likely written up. Lucifer already has too much work to get done--he doesn’t want to babysit his staff.

Quietly schedules the people he likes to work during his shifts whenever he can, since he knows he can trust them to do their work. Not to mention, he enjoys their company a lot.

His favorite crew to have is Beel, Asmo, and Satan (and MC). Their schedules, of course, don’t always line up, but when they do he seriously thinks that he has the dream team.

Mammon: 

Cannot be trusted to actually organize the store, so he gets stuck at the registers.

However, the managers quickly realize that he's shit at anything front-end related aside from counting money (the man likes his money), and that he's prone to pulling out his phone when no one is around, so Lucifer forces him to work the floor. 

They start trying to give him more backroom shifts (because if he's not doing his work, they'll be able to tell easier).

HOWEVER--because Mammon is such a money lover, he’s very aware of every piece of expensive merchandise in the store. So if a customer attempts to switch tags, or peels the price tag off hoping to pull a quick one on the cashier, his coworkers always call him up so he can take a look.

Seriously, the amount of people that try to buy the $100+ gem rocks for $9.99 is crazy.

He feels very proud of himself whenever he manages to stop a customer from getting away with it.

He’s not the best worker in general, but the mangers would be lying if the said they didn’t appreciate his knack for remembering the expensive items.

Levi: 

Cash office.

Prefers to sit in the locked office by himself, listening to music on his phone as he runs checks the register balances from the previous day.

If he's not doing cash office, he's probably out gathering carts, or compacting boxes in the back.

Whatever keeps him away from the bulk of customers.

Whenever the managers need him to go help out on the floor, he gets permission to not wear his apron.

He seriously does not want anyone to talk to him. He just wants to work in peace.

Of course, if he’s seen organizing, or stocking shelves, customers tend to assume he’s an employee anyway--even without the apron.

Levi legitimately jumps anytime someone calls out to him and asks if he works there, and if he can help them. 

Oh, and he always brings his Switch to work and plays games on his lunch break. Do not talk to him if he’s playing his game--he will get mad at you.

Satan: 

Flow & mark-downs.

He's basically an all-rounder, but is superior to the others in putting out new merchandise (flow). He knows where things go, and how they should be organized. 

Secretly gets annoyed when customers ask him for help when he's in the zone, but is very good at faking a smile.

Will do what’s asked of him without any lip in return.

However, rude customers should beware of him, because his anger tends to flip on like a switch. If a customer is badmouthing him, or one of his coworkers--he has no issue telling them they’re a fool, and that they should just leave instead of causing issues.

He gets in trouble with management for doing this, but honestly has no regrets.

Definitely has regular customers that he is enemies with.

Gets left in charge of the store if the managers ever need to step away for their lunch break, or otherwise.

Asmo: 

Lead cashier. 

Super charming, great customer service voice. 

Always gives a good impression on the phone, and manages to make peppy announcements. 

If there’s ever a fundraiser going on, and the cashiers are supposed to ask for donations, Asmo is guaranteed to rake in the most.

He is very good at calming a customer if they're upset--apologizing and and being so sweet and polite that it’s nearly impossible to stay mad.

However, if they're rude to him, or his apologies go on deaf ears, he has no problem politely telling them to fuck off.

If he’s not at the registers, he’s probably off in the bath section--smelling soap--or the candle section--sniffing literally every candle in existence.

He’ll also be sure to get a whiff of whatever candle/soap a customer has brought to the register to purchase.

Runs off to visit other stores in the mall/strip when he’s on his break. (Aka. he spends way too much of his paycheck shopping).

Beel: 

Back room - heavy lifter. 

Dude spends most of the day in the stock room emptying the truck and building furniture.

Seriously can move big things with very little effort. He once carried an entire couch out onto the sales floor buy himself. 

While other coworkers may need to use carts or flatbeds to move larger items, Beel can legit just throw them over his shoulder and continue on his way like he’s not carrying anything at all.

He looks intimidating but is actually super friendly.

Will always work extra hours if you ask him to. Will also come in for extra shifts if you ask him to.

He always feels so guilty if he can’t accept, or needs to call off.

The type of coworker that goes out to buy snacks on his break, and ends up buy snacks for the rest of the staff. He just leaves them on the break room table with a note that says “Eat up :)”

Belphie: 

Closer - Sales Floor. 

The managers tried to work him on morning or midday shifts, but he was continuously too groggy, and ended up knocking things over on accident.

Hes more energetic at night, so they put him on the sales floor (since he’s honestly...not the best at the register. Don’t get me wrong, he can work the register as well as anyone else, but...he just...doesn’t sound friendly. (Lucifer: “Belphie...at least try to sound like you’re not working here against your will when talking to the customers. You applied for this job.”))

He honestly doesn't mind organizing merchandise, but gets annoyed if he ends up doing the bulk of the work. (Whether it’s because they’re short staffed, or because his coworkers are slacking).

Has no problem telling customers to gtfo when it’s closing time.

If people are still in the store 5 minutes after closing, he’ll follow them around until they finally take the hint and leave.

Always stops for fast food on his way home after work because making himself a meal sounds like too much effort.

Diavolo:

Store Manager.

Is very kind to all of his employees, but will also have hard conversations with them if there’s an issue regarding their performance that needs to be addressed.

However, he always does his best to maintain good relationships with everyone he works with.

Will buy lunch for the staff on busy weekends, even if he has to pay for the food himself. He wants to let his employees know that they’re appreciated, and while he’s the type to give verbal affirmation of a job well done, a luncheon doesn’t hurt either.

Even if customers are bitchy, he never raises his voice, or yells. He handles complaints like a champ.

If the customer physically or verbally abuses one of his workers, however...he will threaten to call the police. Do not fuck with his work children.

If his employees ever find him sighing, or looking like he’s stressed, then they know he’s definitely having a rough day. Please work hard, and help him out, and he’ll very much appreciate it. 

Barbatos:

The 4th key. (Basically a manager)

Some workers are scared of him because he always seems to be in a good mood--even if the store is packed, and things get overwhelming.

A very by-the-book type. While Lucifer and Diavolo may allow for some things to get overlooked, or for there to be a lapse in proper procedure, Barbatos is not like that. Rules are rules, and they shall be followed.

Honestly is a very nice guy, but working a closing shift with him can be the worst. Especially if Diavolo is the opening manager the next day. 

He will keep his staff there after closing as long as he needs to for the store to be in an acceptable condition. (The worst part is that Diavolo honestly is so easy going that if Barbatos had just opted to say “we were very busy and didn’t have the time to get everything done”, Diavolo wouldn’t blame him. Shit gets crazy).

Alas, Barbatos wants to please Diavolo and takes his role very seriously.

At least he brings in homemade baked goods for the staff sometimes. (His good cooking usually makes up for all the times he has kept them late).

Solomon:

Another all rounder. Usually get scheduled on midday shifts to bridge the gap between the openers, and closers. 

Is very good at keeping up his “customer service” facade. 

However, once there are no customers around his smile will fall, and he’ll mumble complaints under his breath. 

“Why does one couple need 15 candles?” “Lady, I don’t care about your chihuahua’s sleeping habits--just buy the pet bed already.”

Will always tease his coworkers if he gets along with them. Bickering with Solomon can become a very entertaining past time if he likes you.

Whenever new crystals, or rocks come in, usually he’ll spend a while inspecting them. Apparently he can tell which ones are real, or fake. (And he always ends up buying the real ones).

He’s the type of coworker that will sneak up behind you and scare you when you’re not paying attention. Just because he can. (Fight him, he loves it).

Simeon: 

One of the sweetest staff members, but he’s prone to getting flustered and making mistakes.

If he’s on registers, he’s so busy trying to start a conversation with the customer that he’ll short them on their change. 

Luckily, the customer is either patient in waiting for the manager to come up and open the register, or doesn’t care about the 22 cents Simeon forgot to give them.

He loves reorganizing the towel section of the store the most. Getting to stand there and refold towels almost feels like meditation to him.

Always goes out of his way to ask the customer if he can help them with anything, or if they’re finding everything alright.

Is prone to accidentally cutting himself when something sharp breaks. (It has literally gotten to the point where if a ceramic plate or something glass breaks, the managers have instructed Simeon to call someone else to clean it up, rather than doing it himself.)

Honestly, in the end, he’s a fabulous worker tho.

[twilitty]

Waiting pt.2

Waiting

@twilitty​

Part 2/?

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: none

Read this first! Bella is away while Rose and Emmett are watching Nessie. This fic is centered around Bella.

It took everything out of Bella to not draw attention to herself. She had dressed in sweatpants and a ratty sweatshirt that she had to hide in the back of her closet so Alice couldn’t find it. Yet still people stared at her. This was one thing Bella doubted she would ever get used to: the attention.

She liked to lay low, fly under the radar, get lost in the crowd. But, that hasn’t happened to her since her human days. Well, it hasn’t really happened to her since Phoenix. It seemed that Forks high school thought she was the best thing around and quickly she had a band of boys vying for her attention. 

She’s walking down a busy side street in Port Angeles, she hadn’t lied about where she was going. The entire family knows she is in the city, they just don’t know why- except for Alice- and decidedly choose not to ask her about it. She appreciates the faux privacy they give her. It’s difficult living with a family who had supernatural hearing abilities, every whispered argument with her new husband was put on display for all to discuss in private. 

Port Angeles is her monthly retreat from the Cullens, who seemed to be her only socialization after she awoke as a vampire. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy spending time with them, she loves them all dearly, but most conversations revert back to time periods from before she was born. She was never a fan of history class.

Port Angeles was nowhere near as large as other cities, but it was close to home and she doesn’t like leaving her daughter for long periods of time. 

The street is littered with tourists in heavy backpacks, maps under their noses. The maps are unnecessary, each street has clear signage and you can always cut through alleyways to the next street over if you need to move fast. She can’t imagine how anybody could get lost among these streets and then scolds herself immediately. She had gotten lost in these streets. Her human self was used to getting lost and falling into the lap of trouble. She hates forgetting about her old self. 

Her shoulder bag bumps her hip with every step, inside her car keys, wallet, and a hardcover book. It’s a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice, the edges of the stiff covers frayed with time and use. The words inside bore the stains of past tears, tears she would never shed again. She remembers the last time she cried over these pages, sitting on Charlies beat up couch with her wet hair tied up in a towel atop her head. She couldn’t stop thinking of Edward. This was before they had come together and stayed together. She had hoped that his behaviour was an imitation of Mr.Darcy’s. Hopefully he was just pretending to dislike her because he didn’t know how to work through his true emotions, ultimately her hopes came true, but at the time she felt empty. 

Empty from caring too much and empty from being let down yet another time. A new town she didn’t want to be in, and the one bright side seemed to hate her, how is she supposed to cope with that? She had treated herself with a bowl of ice cream after her hot shower, curling up in a quilt that seemed older than her and reading Jane Austen yet again. 

Everytime Darcy entered a scene another fat tear would drop onto the page, marking the exact spot she thought of the cruel bronze haired boy. A boy so beautiful her heart wanted to sing, yet every time he looked at her with that same disdain she couldn’t help but feel torn apart all over again. How could one human stand so much torment?

A part of her, small and insignificant, sits in her gut and wishes for tears. Wants some physical expression of her emotions. But, that won’t happen. 

The street winds to the right, groups of teenagers clustered outside of an indie coffee shop and giggling amongst each other. Idly she wonders, how is Angela doing? But the thought disappears as quickly as it comes and she finds herself at the end of the street with a four-way stop in front of her. 

She takes the right turn, sneakers scuffing as she lets her heels drag a little with every step. Humans never walk evenly, there is always something to unbalance their gait and mark their shoes. Alice would rather die a million deaths than see Bella purposefully mistreat her shoes, even if they’re knock offs she bought at an outlet mall. 

A couple buildings down, all cement and brick, is the public library. It’s poorly funded and the lighting inside is horrendous. The windows need to be resealed and the doors squeak like mice. She loves it. She enters into the drafty lobby, a bulletin board shows all the events this month, a book club is scheduled for today at noon. She checks her watch, 11:47. 

The next doors lead into the children's section where parents and toddlers sit in a semicircle at the back wall, a poorly constructed stage is used to recreate a story with hand puppets. “Save me!” She hears one of the socks yell out, a few children gasp and her steps slow to a stop. A child sitting up close to the stage has brown hair braided down her back in uneven strips. Her giggles stand out from every other childs gasps of horror. Beside her sits an identical little boy, his brown skin shining just like his sisters. 

“Don’t worry,” the little girl whispers into his ear, “the princess has a happy ending.” The boy looks up at her with big doe eyes, his nose sniffling. “I promise,” she says. Then, as if feeling that someone is watching, she turns around and faces Bella from across the wide room. 

They look at each other, the human and the vampire, the child and the woman, the hunted and the hunter. Her, Bella thinks absently, her senses slow to a dull, focused only on the soft thudding of the little girls heart. She is so beautiful. The girl watches her, wide eyes blinking as she takes in the woman staring at her without seeming to notice it. Then, she raises a dark palm, waving it at the woman.

Bellas senses surge back into her, noises and colours and scents slam into her like a wall and she almost feels the need to take a steadying breath. The girl continues to wave, her little brother looking over his shoulder to see who she’s looking at. 

Walking quickly and a little dazed, Bella makes her way to the staircase and closes the door behind her. She takes a deep, unnecessary breath which does nothing more than fill her lungs. Her chest sits hollow, no movement unless she forces it and no beating of a heart. She wonders idly what would happen if she was opened up, would they find her heart still intact? Did the venom solidify it like the rest of her or is it just simply gone? 

“Isabella!” It’s Nancy, she’s at the top of the stairs holding a book to her chest. She’s an older woman, maybe sixty five, with beautiful grey hair cut into a sleek bob at her shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here, and looking stylish as always!” Bella just nods with what she hopes is a warm smile, she had heard and smelt Nancy above before she heard her but still widens her eyes to make it seem surprising. 

Coming from anybody else, calling Bella “stylish” for wearing sweatpants would have been sarcastic. Maybe a joke about how she always looks beautiful. But not from Nancy. Nancy is too kind, she likely has never said a poor word to anybody. 

“Thank you,” Bella responds. Taking the stairs up, Nancy has already started talking again. Bella's mind has a difficult time abandoning the little girl in front of the stage. The girl's heartbeat thuds in her ears, carrying through the thick metal door and up the stairs. She isn’t sure if she can still hear it or if her mind is just playing it back on a loop.

“All the ladies are already here, you’re the last to join us.” She continues to talk about who is here and who can’t make it. Someone brought lemon squares and someone else had snuck in orange juice and a bottle of champagne for mimosas. It’s a wonder the book club hasn’t been kicked out of the library permanently, it seems every month they are receiving another infraction for bringing in food and drinks. 

The book club meets once a month to discuss the book they were supposed to read, this week it’s Pride and Prejudice. The room they reserve is tucked into the back left corner of the library, the carpet is dingy and the walls that were once white are closer to yellow. Bella loves this room.

The ladies are all already sitting in a semicircle, a low table in the center is covered in treats and large glasses filled with a sweet smelling drink. A large bottle of champagne sits next to it. “Isabella!” A few of them call out as she enters the room with Nancy. She greets them happily, smiling widely.

“Alright, so this month we read Pride and Prejudice!” A few women whoop at that, giggling and whispering amongst each other. “Now, now,” Dhruvi chastises lightly. She’s the club leader, she makes sure the discussion doesn't get carried away. “Who wants to share their first reactions to Mr.Darcy?” Bella's mind runs faster than any computer, her words and actions are usually well thought through before she reacts, which is why she takes herself off guard when she responds so quickly. She hadn’t even known she had something to add. “I think he was acting a little cruel.” Bella’s voice says without her knowing. All eyes are immediately on her, apparently none of them agreed because their eyes are wide as saucers.

“How could you say that?” A woman pipes up, her bushy eyebrows knitted atop her wrinkled forehead. “He loves Elizabeth.”

“Yeah,” Bella says slowly, her mind whirring but not producing anything. “But that doesn’t mean he can treat her like he doesn’t care for her. He should have been open with his feelings at the start, not play stupid mind games with her.”

The room is quiet, the air dripping in what can only be suppressed judgement and mild concern from the old women. Bella notices this, takes a few looks around the circle and swallows her pride. “I’m sorry,” she enunciates, each syllable crisp with her obvious discomfort. “I guess I’m just projecting my life onto the story.”

“Is it your husband, dear?” It’s Nancy, sitting three women down from her and giving her a soft smile. Her skin is wrinkled, her eyes creasing in a motherly way. Bella’s vocal cords refuse to work, and even if they were functioning she has no idea what to say. None of the women speak and instead watch Bella work the question over in her mind.

Even though Bella could have thought this over in the bare breath of a second, she takes a minute to truly think it over. Was it her husband? Edward who loved her, who she loved? They had a child together, they were both immortal. She served up her human life on a platter and asked him to throw it away. No, it wasn’t her husband. Their relationship was perfect, picturesque, the happy ending everybody always knew they would get.

“My wife,” starts Dhruvi with a heavy sigh, “does this to me sometimes, too.” Bella had met Dhruvi’s wife before, she was a kind woman with long black hair streaked with silver, her skin a nearly identical shade of brown to Dhruvi. “She will go days treating me like a guest in our home, not holding my hand or kissing me. We will eat breakfast at opposite ends of the table and make small talk. The entire time I think, ‘did I do something wrong? Has she abandoned her feelings for me?’ But, no.” She leans over onto her knees and the scent of her floral perfume fills Bella’s head. “The next night she will cook me dinner and kiss me and tell me I’m beautiful. And, yes that is nice but it is also sad like you said-” Bella never said that what Darcy did was sad, but in her head she can see now that that word fits into her sentiment perfectly. “- because for a moment I questioned my wife’s love for me and that is very painful.” 

The room nods and murmurs in agreement, Nancy giving Bella a sad, pitying look the entire time. “I- I’m sorry about your wife not always being open about her feelings,” Bella starts, feeling like she’s being forced into giving confession. “But that’s not my Edward.” 

“Not mine either,” Nancy says quickly. “But when we met that was him. He was my Darcy in the way you described him. I love Patt now but at the time he would take me out on a date only to show up for class the next day with some new broad.” She shrugs her shoulders, “and that was cruel. He played mind games with me.” The grey haired woman doesn’t seem upset by this, instead she seems content with it. Stating it with a resigned indifference. 

“But you’ve got him now!” A woman exclaims and that sends the room into an uproar of laughter. Bella’s is noticeably absent from the mixture. 

The group finishes their discussion about the book in just over an hour, a few women sneak snacks into their purses as they depart, giggly from all the champagne. Bella packages her novel into her bag and puts it over her shoulder. Dhruvi stands at the door, with a styrofoam plate of lemon squares, only three left. 

“Isabella, I’m sorry about your experiences with this month's novel.” She says it kindly, but also as if she’s digging for more information. Trying to reopen the discussion from earlier. 

“No, I enjoyed the book, really. It was quite romantic.” The words rush out of Bella, the last thing she wants to do is start this conversation all over again. Dhruvi laughs off her comment.

“I’m considering hosting dinner at my home, I will be inviting a few of the women from this group and a few others you don’t know.” Bella’s silent heart has jumped into her throat. “Would you be interested in joining us?” What does she say? That she will go but won’t eat a single damn thing? Oh, sorry, I ate just before getting to your house for this prescheduled dinner. How awful is that, there is no way that she can go. 

“I don’t think I’ll be available that day.”

“I didn’t mention the date,” the older woman says slowly, eyelids leveling down over her pupils as if searching for something in Bella. The vampire has no response to this. “Bring your husband,” she says finally, “I would like to meet him.” 

[florenceandthemachine]

(my @911giftexchange contribution for @brcttshvghes!!) Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV) Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Howie "Chimney" Han, Bobby Nash, Athena Grant Additional Tags: First Kiss, Christmas, Secret Santa, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining

Last Christmas, Eddie had—as Hen would put it—his ‘oh’ moment.

No, it wasn’t when Buck had thrown himself into action to help some random dad see his daughter sing for Christmas.

No, it wasn’t when Eddie caught Buck trying to sneak extra presents (for he and Christopher both) under the Diaz tree.

No, it wasn’t even when some random elf had complimented Buck on his “beautiful family”.

Eddie’s ‘oh’ moment came when Athena announced that she was saving them all from themselves, when he walked into the firehouse loft and saw his kid standing there, beaming like a megawatt spotlight, smiling not only up at his dad but at Buck; and suddenly things clicked into place. Buck had set all of this up, and sure, it was for the whole house... but it was also for him. Buck had done this all, for him. He had Chris in his arms, he had Buck by his side, and Eddie realized—not for the first time, but for the first time with this level of severity—that this was exactly what he wanted, for the rest of his life.

Forever.

Hence the ‘oh’ moment.

(Hen had suggested calling it his ‘no fucking shit, you clueless moron’ moment instead. Eddie had politely declined.)

--

The ‘oh’ moment was one thing. The ‘oh’ moment was great.

Afterward, though, afterward everything was kind of sucky.

Valentine’s Day was rough. Watching Athena lock up a newlywed couple together, that was fun, sure, but seeing Buck with Ali? That was... literal torture.

--

The tsunami sucked. The bomb sucked.

The lawsuit, that really fucking sucked.

But pulling Buck into his arms underneath some shitty Halloween decorations, being back together again, that... that was almost worth it.

Even if he had to watch Buck bat his eyes at Taylor Kelly a few days later.

--

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Hen had asked the next month, sprawled out over the couch in the loft, idly kicking Eddie’s thigh as he groaned, full of Bobby’s turkey and homemade cranberry sauce.

“And risk it all?” Eddie had asked, long since beyond the point where he wanted to even pretend that he didn’t know what Hen was talking about.

And when Abby reappeared in Buck’s life with a fiancée and two stepchildren, Eddie knew staying quiet was the right idea. He wouldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk it.

--

“Hey, Eds, hand me another nail?”

So now here he was, almost a year later (“A full year of pining, Eddie, seriously, if you don’t say something by New Year’s—“ “I hate you, Hen.”), staring at Buck’s ass as he struggled to hang another loop of garland haphazardly throughout the station.

After a moment of hesitation, he did as he was asked, sighing as he held up another couple of tacks that Buck could push into the wall. “Why are you even doing all of this, Buck? I don’t know if you noticed, but the station was already decorated.” Eddie said with a hum, leaning back against the wall as he looked up to Buck, not-so-subtly admiring the way Buck’s entire body reacted as he laughed.

“Please, it looked like Pottery Barn threw up in here. We needed something other than stark white garland and red ornaments, Eds.” Buck descended down the step ladder and stepped back to admire his handiwork as Eddie looked around the station—as much as he hated to admit it, Buck was absolutely right. The station had been decorated by what looked like the night crew after one too many cups of coffee; too clean, too pristine, all glittering white garland neatly tacked up to every corner with a giant red bauble tacked at every intersection.

Needless to say, once Buck had gotten through with things, it was... definitely far from a professional looking decor job. Buck had rigged up huge wreaths made of fake garland and bows made out of giant, floppy, silver and gold ribbon, and hung them all over the station.

He had all but stapled his hand to the wall hanging up Christmas lights—the old, slowly blinking type, on the thick green cord, the type where if one light went out they all went out. There were twinkling, colorful lights all over the walls, mounds of fake snow around the staircase, big, fake poinsettias all over the kitchen.

At some point in time, while Hen and Chim were passing time upstairs in the loft and Bobby was stuck in his office doing paperwork, Buck had even rigged up his iPhone to play Christmas carols over the entirety of the station PA system (“Don’t worry, Eddie, calls will still come through and cut out over the alarm,” Buck had assured him, and Eddie was struck, not for the first time, with pride as he realized how much planning Buck really put into things like this).

The station was a mess, honestly. It was a jumbled, disorganized, chaotic explosion of Christmas. The station had gone from Pottery Barn to looking like a Yuletide grenade had gone off.

Eddie loved it.

“There! All finished. Back up, Eddie, I’m coming down.” Eddie blinked as he was jerked back into the present, standing back to admire the latest (and apparently the last) wreath that Buck had woven on the wall, acutely aware of the closeness that he and Buck shared as Buck beamed up at his handiwork.

He managed to look away from Buck’s smile—glowing didn’t even begin to cover it—right as Buck turned to look at him, clearing his throat. “Alright, Buck, what gives? Not that I’m mad about the extra decor you’ve doused the place with, but this is even bigger than what we did last year. There another surprise party that I’m supposed to be aware of?” Eddie asked, smiling as Buck threw his head back and laughed.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Buck started, looking over his shoulder as he folded up the ladder, heading back through the gym to the utility closet. “We’re still on for Christmas dinner at the station with everyone’s family, and unless Hen or Bobby has something else planned—because let’s face it, Chim would forget it was Christmas all in all if Maddie didn’t remind him—that’s all that we’re doing as a station. I just figured we needed as much holly-jolly as we could this year.”

His words were innocent enough, but Eddie had known Buck for years now, and the last year had been spent watching Buck a little more… closely than usual. So he knew that Buck’s innocent smile was just a shade on the wrong side of sneaky, how his words were carefully chosen so he wouldn’t be technically lying. Buck was smart—seriously, Eddie didn’t understand how people always forgot that—and they were the kind of things that Eddie would have missed if he wasn’t so… invested.

Sure. Invested. That was the right way to think about it.

“Hey, Eds,” and damn, a nickname shouldn’t bring him that much joy, “can you open the closet up for me?” Buck asked, the smile on his face seemingly innocent as Eddie rose a brow, stepping around him and just taking the ladder from his hands, pushing the door open behind him, not missing the look of surprise on Buck’s face.

“Wait, Eddie—no, I can—“

“Buck, it’s a step ladder, it’s no big deal. Did you take anything else out of the closet, or was it just this?”

“Well no, but it’s just that—“

Before Buck could continue his protest, the Christmas carols died out throughout the station, the siren blaring in its place, and for a split second, Buck looked absolutely crushed, which was weirder than anything else Eddie had witnessed that morning, because Buck loved going out on calls.

The moment was gone in a heartbeat, but it still made Eddie’s mind reel as they darted off to their lockers to suit up, mind racing with questions as Buck was all laughs with Hen as Chim got behind the wheel.

Something was up, and Eddie was going to find out what… even if the day had other plans.

--

There were two ways that shifts around the holidays were destined to go. Either the 118 would be dead quiet, or the crew would be completely dead on their feet.

Unfortunately, today seemed like it would be the latter.

No sooner than they had been cleared from their first call of the day did another roll in, and then another, and then another, to the point where the only time that Eddie had to text his kid was between calls, and the 118 was probably trapped in their turnout gear for a good five hours without a single break.

Buck, to the surprise of absolutely no one, only grew more and more alive with every save—he had an absolute knack for riding the rush that came with the job, and by the time they finally pulled back into the 118, Buck and Eddie couldn’t have been in a more different place in their lives.

“Alright, six calls in five hours. I think I’ve earned a fucking nap.” Eddie grumbled as he slid out of his designated spot next to Buck in the ladder truck, barely even waiting to get to the rack on the wall before he started pulling his turnout gear off, impatiently tugging at his sleeves and kicking his boots off before he bothered to even loosen anything.

While the sound of Buck’s laugh behind him certainly raised his spirit, he still pouted as Buck sauntered up beside him, easily removing his own jacket and boots and hanging them up with a certain sense of maturity that Eddie couldn’t muster at the moment. “Come on Eddie, a nap? Did you turn fifty while I wasn’t looking?” Buck asked, the teasing tone of his voice bringing a smile to Eddie’s face as he shoved Buck’s shoulder playfully.

“Just because you can keep up with Chris’ special blend of all night holiday nonsense doesn’t mean we all can, Buck.” Eddie started, rolling his shoulder as he hung his turnout coat back up. “Right now, he’s probably running Carla through literally every last strip mall in the state, trying to find a perfect present for our Buck, and… uh.” Eddie cut himself off, far too late, cheeks pinking up as he clamped his jaw shut.

He feared the worst for a moment when Buck looked at him with stars in his eyes, thinking that his slip hadn’t gone unnoticed, and he had to work to hide his sigh of relief when Buck grinned. “He’s getting me a gift? I mean, I know he doesn’t have to, and you know he doesn’t have to, but… fuck, Eds, I’m all excited now. Okay. Forget it. Anyway, come on. I want to completely obliterate you in Mario Kart.”

Eddie sighed softly, his smile big and dopey on his face as Buck got himself all excited, shaking his head as he kicked off his boots, finally leaving his gear behind. “Buck, if you think I’m going to add insult to injury and let you completely wipe the floor with me, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Fine, then you don’t have to play. You can just hang around and bask in my awesome.” Buck said, his effort at being nonchalant almost going over Eddie’s head, just barely catching the sidelong glance that Buck shot him while he was re-lacing his work boots.

He narrowed his eyes for a moment as he watched Buck’s shoulders tighten, sighing as he shook his head. “Fine, but you better fucking dazzle me, Buckley.” he said as he started walking to the tiny corner of the bay they had set up as a miniature rec area (a fancy word for three couches and a big-ass television, courtesy of Chim’s baby brother), but not before he saw the abject joy that bloomed over Buck’s face.

As much as he wanted to believe that that much joy could simply come from Buck getting to spend time on a couch with Eddie, he had a sneaking suspicion, much as he did earlier, that something else was up.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something by osmosis, and actually stand a chance against your kid the next time he—“

Buck was cut off by a bang as the firehouse door hit the wall, a panicked cry pulling Buck and Eddie’s attention as they both automatically started to move.

“Help! Please, please I need help, I don’t think she’s breathing!”

Eddie and Buck were both immediately moving, Chim and Bobby close on their trail as they came down the stairs from the loft, Hen already opening the back of the ambulance and yanking out one of her bags.

Eddie slowed himself down as he reached forward to take the body of a young girl from her clearly distraught mother, Buck already a step ahead of him as he put a braceboard down on the ground, placing her too-small body down on it.

(Eddie still hated situations that involved kids.)

The little girl was conscious, but only barely, wheezing along as Eddie laid her down, taking her pulse instinctively as he gave her a simple once over. “Signs of angioedema, breathing is shallow, pupils are tight, plenty of hives across the neck and chest. Ma’am, does she have any allergies, any—”

“No! I mean, I don’t think so, we tried a new recipe for our christmas cookies this year… uh, almond, maybe? I don’t know!”

“Okay, we’re gonna give her some epinephrine, you need to look into an epi-pen, Buck?”

Buck nodded, grabbing a pen from the ambulance, pressing it against the thickest part of her thigh (she was so tiny, Jesus) and plunging the needle into her skin. “Alright, now, we’re going to take her to the hospital, so hop in the ambulance—” Bobby started, nodding to the vehicle as Hen and Chim jumped into the drivers cab, “—and you can ride with or follow along, whatever you want.”

Eddie and Buck had the gurney popped up in a heartbeat, wheeling it in the back of the rig as mother and daughter were loaded up, doors slamming behind the pair of them as Hen practically burned rubber.

Eddie felt his heart rate start to slow back down to a regular, human level as the ambulance tore out of the bay, and even he couldn’t keep the small smile on his face as he turned back to Buck, expecting the expression to be mirrored on his partner’s face.

So, you could imagine his surprise when Buck just looked… tired.

“Buck? You good? You still wanna get a round of the… uh… whatever?”

He rose a brow as Buck hitched his smile back on, giving a half shrug as he shook his head. “Nah, Eddie, it’s good. I’m gonna get started on Bobby’s chore list.”

With that, he started up the stairs to the kitchen, and Eddie was left in the metaphorical dust, staring up to Buck’s retreating backside as he was left alone on the main floor of the 118.

The fuck was going on?

--

buck fifty: why do i have to clean the kitchen if bobby and athena are just going to be cooking in an hour anyway

sent: Because, Buck, normal people clean the areas where they’re going to be preparing food.

buck fifty: miss me with that logic i havent had food poisoning in weeks dont @ me bro

Eddie let out a breathy bark of a laugh as he pushed up on the leg press again, his back drenched in sweat as he read over Buck’s reply. As much as he hated doing anything even remotely close to leg day, he figured that now was the time to work it out—a workout did better than a nap to help him wind down from back-to-back calls (and a near poisoning, Hen and Chim weren’t even back from the hospital yet), but it was a great way to keep his hands free so he could text Buck.

It was kind of sad, honestly, how many decisions that he made in his day to day life that were focused on Buck.

Today, though, the mission was a little more ‘what the fuck is up with Buck’ than it was anything else—Buck was a weird dude, sure, but he was acting jumpy and weird all fucking day today. Even in the moments when they were out on call, and Buck was in the zone, he still felt a little… off.

It was like there was a fucking satellite delay between them, and there had been all day. Eddie usually prided himself on being able to read a room, but today, it was like Buck was intentionally throwing walls his way.

Not that he was that attuned to Buck’s everyday emotions and mood, anyway. Nope. Definitely not.

…

fuck.

sent: Why don’t you come down here and do a few reps with me? Burn off some of that energy.

sent: Oh, wait, that isn’t an option for you yet. How sad.

buck fifty: look its not my fault that you happened to finish your chores earlier and i didnt

sent: …Buck, that is 100% your own fault. Are you good today? You’re weirding me out.

“Hello, 118! Did someone order a chef?” Eddie looked up as he heard Athena’s voice echo throughout the station, a smile on his face as he waved over to her. He loved the way that she had fit together with the station so well, and how she and Bobby got along as well as they did (even if he felt like he had to pay for it whenever Hen shot him a knowing look, less and less subtle with each passing day… okay, month), but he loved even more that she usually brought food, especially now, in what Eddie sincerely hoped would be a new tradition — Christmas dinner with his work family.

Make no mistake, Bobby’s cooking was phenomenal, but there was something about Athena’s family style everything that settled right in Eddie’s soul.

Maybe it was because she had the uncanny knack at seeing through his bullshit and calling him on anything and everything that he tried to pull when she was around, in a way that was both kind and hilariously firm.

Or maybe it was because she actually understood how to make a decent tex-mex meal.

Either way.

“Eddie, where’s our boys?”

Eddie looked up as Athena closed the distance to his machine in the gym, smiling as he did another rep. “Hey Athena. Buck’s cleaning up the kitchen, getting ready for you and Bobby.” he said easily, his legs giving a little wobble as he realized what he had said, eyes snapping to her easily. “Uh, I mean—“

“Diaz, please, we both know that was who I was talking about.” Athena said, cutting him off before he could answer, the knowing smile on her face making Eddie wish the ground would open him up and swallow him whole, but apparently LA was fresh out of earthquakes for the moment. Thankfully, Athena took some pity on him, keeping the conversation moving easily as she looked around the station. “I see he got a hold of the decorations. Good, the place looked too… clean before.” she said, and Eddie laughed even as his face flushed red, swinging his legs off the machine, the familiar burn in his thighs anchoring him in the moment. “Yeah, it really did. Buck said it looked like a Pottery Barn threw up.”

Eddie shook his head as Athena laughed, that same smile on her face again, but it was different now—easy, familiar, like she was seeing the answer to a puzzle that Eddie only had half the pieces to. “He’s a good man, Eddie. Both of you are. It’s just such a shame neither of you would know what healthy communication was if it bit you in the ass.” She said, shaking her head dramatically as she started up the stairs, leaving a completely baffled Eddie to grab his phone off of the machine as it buzzed again.

What the hell was she talking about? He and Buck communicated all the time.

buck fifty: ok now you have to help me

buck fifty: if athena and bobby are going to be in the kitchen together im going to wind up drowning in mushy

sent: How is that my problem? And don’t think you got by avoiding my other question.

buck fifty: eddie plz

sent: Use your words, Buck.

buck fifty: u gotta get up here and save me

sent: Have you cleaned out the oven yet?

buck fifty: ………

buck fifty: save me by helping me clean the oven

Okay, Eddie may have already lost the fight, but—

buck fifty: pleeeeeeeeeease

—but that didn’t mean he had to admit how wrapped around Buck’s pinky he was. He could still whine about it, he could still complain about it, he could still bring this up the next time he and Buck argued about who’s turn it was to go and answer the door when they ordered takeout. Cleaning the oven, that was absolutely something he could hold over Buck forever.

He made a quick detour to the locker room to change out of his gym clothes as he heard Athena greet the boys upstairs, his own smile begrudgingly pasted on as he remembered what Athena had said.

His boy. She had called Buck his boy.

It was… well, it was nice to dream.

He was basically floating on air as he made his way up the stairs, to the point where he almost walked straight until Bobby’s chest from where he stood at the top of the stairs. He let out a very masculine noise as he jumped back, nearly dropping his phone as Bobby clucked his tongue.

“Nope, Eddie, you know the rules. You and your black thumb need to stay far from the kitchen while we’re cooking.”

Eddie tried to sputter out a protest even as Athena laughed from her position near the fridge, unloading what looked like an actual mountain of groceries. “Come on Bobby, I’m sure he can’t be that bad—“

“He’s burned pasta, Athena.”

“That was one time!”

Eddie felt his face heat up as Buck immediately came to his defense, equal parts pleased and perturbed, as Bobby shook his head. “Not taking that chance, kid. Especially not while Athena is armed with two whole hams. Come on, go downstairs, shower up, and then we can find a way for you to help get ready for dinner that keeps you far away from the kitchen.”

“Cmon, Bobby—“

“Buck, you can clean the oven on your own. Now let’s go, we all got work to do.”

Eddie felt his mouth snap shut as Bobby dismissed him—not unkindly, nothing that Eddie hadn’t heard before, but the way that Buck was looking over at them was nothing short of tragic. He hadn’t seen Buck look that defeated since their run in at the grocery store in the midst of the lawsuit-that-they-didn’t-talk-about-seriously-Buck-we-both-apologized-it’s-fine.

Eddie’s brain continued to churn as he showered, nearly drowning himself beneath the scalding hot water as he tried to understand what the fuck was going on.

Buck had been acting weird. Which, honestly, wasn’t that unusual for Buck. Buck was a good man. He had his heart on his sleeve, like, constantly. He was happy when he was happy, he was sad when he was sad, and there was no hiding it when he was down.

And now, somehow, Eddie was bringing him down.

Or… when Eddie really thought about it, the lack of Eddie was bringing him down…

Eddie didn’t get to spend time with Buck, and Buck looked like someone had just stamped out his dreams.

And that… that was interesting.

The last piece of the puzzle finally sank into place as he toweled off his hair and stepped out of the locker room, right in time to hear Athena’s laugh ring through the station. He looked up to the loft in time to see Bobby dipping her into a kiss, but that wasn’t where his eyes focused—no, they were instead focusing on something red and green. Something red and green and small and something that was definitely not there before Buck started his redecorations this morning, hanging in front of the oven.

The oven that he was supposed to help Buck clean.

Eddie felt his eyes narrow as he looked around the station, trying to retrace his steps throughout the station from the moment he walked in that morning. The utility closet… the recreation area… and back to the kitchen again.

He felt a small smile, in spite of himself, spread across his face, something dangerously close to hope blooming in his chest. Fate seemed to smile on him as Hen and Chim pulled back into the firehouse bay, and he took the opportunity to smack Hen’s arm as she walked past him.

“Ow, Eddie, what the f—“

“I’m gonna risk it, Hen.” Eddie said, effectively cutting her off, knowing that she would pick up on what he meant immediately. “But I need some help. You got a minute?”

--

“Buckaroo, will you take these plates down to the table? Here, bring Eddie some silverware.”

“Yeah, no problem Chim.”

Eddie elbowed Hen away from him as Buck started down the stairs, trying his best to act like he was doing anything but listening up the stairs. He and Hen had been busy setting up the table (and a few other things) while Chim was assigned on running interference upstairs, which turned out to be the easiest job of all while Buck… well, while Buck moped.

Eddie hated Buck moping. Almost as much as he hated how cute he thought it was, now that he knew what Buck was up to.

Or, at least, he thought he knew what Buck was up to. He was still painfully aware of how wrong this could all go—maybe it was the magic of the season, maybe it was a year in the making, maybe it was Hen egging him on, but Eddie…

Eddie actually felt like he could do this.

Even if it meant that he had to play completely oblivious in the meantime.

“Alright, Buck,” Eddie started, taking the stack of plates out of Buck’s hand, somehow fighting the smile as Buck handed them over, “what’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all day.”

Buck grumbled as he tugged at the corner of the table cloth, straightening out a few placemats as he shrugged. “Nothing, Eds, I’m fine. Just a weird day, I guess. Dinner should be good, though!” Buck said, hiking a smile up onto his face. Eddie did his best to hide a little laugh as he nodded to Hen, who had slipped into the cab of the ladder truck.

“Buck, come on. I’ve known you for years, you’re not fine. Weird, yes. Fine, no.”

Buck stuck out his tongue as he started to dole out forks and knives, the little lighthearted gesture doing something to ease the worry that Eddie felt at the base of his spine, but he could still see the tension coiled through his best friends shoulders.

“Seriously, Buck, I—“

“It’s fine, Eddie! I just…” Buck’s shoulder slumped as he started to deflate, the harsh tone of his voice giving way as his face flushed. Setting the last fork down, he started to pace in earnest, speaking with his hands as much as he was with his voice. “I just had a certain thought about how things might go this year, and fate, or destiny, or whatever, has made it very clear that’s not going to be how it goes. I dunno, I thought I could make things… different, or special or whatever?” he started, and Eddie seriously had to swallow the words that were threatening to spill over his lips.

Buck wanted to make things special. Buck wanted to make things special. For him. Like Buck didn’t do that kind of thing every day simply by existing.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter, you don’t have to worry about it.” Buck sighed as he put the last fork down and started pacing at the head of the table, and Eddie had to make sure his voice wasn’t going to waver when he spoke again.

“It still can be special, Buck—“

“Eds, it’s whatever. It was stupid anyway.”

“Buck.”

“No, Eddie, it’s okay, I shouldn’t have—“

“Buck. Stop. Breathe.”

Eddie grabbed both of Buck’s shoulders to stop him from pacing, raising his eyebrows as Buck finally made eye contact with him.

“Are you breathing? Okay. Great. Good. Now look up.”

“Eds, what are you talking about?”

“Buck, for the love of God, listen to me for once in your life and just look up.”

Eddie took a moment to savor the complete confusion written on Buck’s face as he finally comprehended what Eddie was asking (with a murmured complaint of “I always listen to you”), and Eddie let his eyes lock on to Buck’s face. Mostly because he wanted to see Buck’s reaction, but partially because he was afraid of what said reaction would be. Even if Buck was seeing the mistletoe above them for the first time, that Eddie had painstakingly tied to the top rung of the ladder that Hen had extended over the table from the truck, this was the moment of truth—and Eddie already knew what was up there.

Besides, Buck was a much better view than some green garnish.

“That’s, uhm.” Buck started, and Eddie finally gave up trying to keep the smile off his face. “That’s mistletoe.”

Eddie hummed thoughtfully as Buck looked back to him, “It is. I pulled some from the kitchen, found a sprig near the rec room, one from the utility closet…”

Buck actually had the decency to look surprised as he looked back to Eddie, literal stars in his eyes. “And you… put them together. And tied them to the ladder, and… got me to stand under it with you.” Buck continued, slowly, and Eddie gave a little chuckle as he nodded his head, taking a step closer. “I did. I mean, unless I’m misreading this entire situation, in which case I have no idea what you’re talking about, and if that’s the case, I’m going to go dig a hole out back and throw myself—mmhph.”

Eddie was more thankful than anything when Buck took the step forward to close the distance between them before he could start rambling, one hand on Eddie’s jaw to tilt it up (god he loved that Buck was taller than he was), the other warm and heavy on his hip (god, he loved Buck’s strong hands), lips slotting together with an ease that Eddie had never experienced with a first kiss before (god, he loved kissing Buck).

He also loved Hen and Chim, because no sooner did Chim hit the switch near the bay doors to dim the lights around the ladder truck did Hen manage to restart Buck’s Christmas playlist, Irving Berlin’s voice crooning about a white Christmas over the station speakers as Eddie’s arms wrapped around Buck’s neck.

When they finally pulled back to breathe, Eddie found himself tiptoeing up to chase Buck’s lips, his face flushing bright red afterward when he realized what he had done. They both started laughing as Buck’s hands dropped down to Eddie’s waist, Eddie following suit and letting his hands rest on Buck’s shoulders, fitting together in a way that Eddie had only imagined.

“So… I guess the mistletoe worked out for you in the end.” Eddie said with a smile, and Buck laughed, shaking his head, that beautiful ruddy color staining his cheeks again. “Eds, I, uh… I’ve kind of been working up the courage to do something like this for weeks.” He said sheepishly, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, smacking Buck’s shoulder.

“Weeks? To think, you still had months to go before you were anywhere close to my level.” Eddie said as he pulled away, sighing as he smoothed over Buck’s collar, a smile on his face as he turned and left a stunned Buck in his wake.

“Wait, Eddie, what?”

Eddie shook his head as he walked back into the locker room, Buck following suit shortly after.

“Eds, no, wait! How long did I pine without needing to?? Eddie!!”

[whole-dip]

My Trip to Omega Mart

Opened in 2021, Omega Mart is an immersive art experience that utilizes numerous artistic mediums to tell a layered and thematically rich story to guests. A story that actively involves the guest in various different ways, challenging their sense of physical space, as well as eliciting questions of consumerism, family, love, and even the nature human connection. This story is told within a massive space comprised of roughly four main physical spaces, each with their own smaller spaces wherein guests may engage with physical media to the level of their interest. Omega Mart was developed by an artist collective known as Meow Wolf, a group formed in 2008 that specializes in immersive art experiences that are often referred to as psychedelic, dreamlike environments. Previous works include The Due Return, an immersive art experience depicting an alien ship that travels through time, The House of Eternal Return, an immersive experience showcasing a house that seemingly exists in multiple dimensions, and various other immersive art experiences across the country. I visited Omega Mart, located in Las Vegas, recently and this piece will focus on my visit. Please keep in mind that Omega Mart is often updated in small ways and some of my account may not totally reflect your visit, be it in the past or future. Along with that, I will be going into great detail about my experience and if you plan to visit Omega Mart with no prior knowledge, you may not want to read this until after you visit.

 Omega Mart, is located within Area 15, an immersive art space located near the Las Vegas strip. As you enter, you’ll find yourself in massive blacklit warehouse that’s a sort of psychedelic mall. Individual kiosks show glow in the dark shirts and various other rave theme toys. To the left, lies the massive front entrance of Omega Mart. Flanking the entrance are walls with various advertisements for Dramcorp products that you’ll find inside. The entrance itself takes the form of an omega symbol, the central arch being a sort of portal inside. Once you enter, you find yourself inside, where else, Omega Mart. All around you are neatly organize aisles of typical products like cereal, household cleaners, salt and spices, like any other mall. The produce section lies to your left, meats to your right. A bluish glow from the fluorescent lights above gives the same sense of blah that you’d find in superstores like Wal Mart; inoffensive smooth jazz warbles out from speakers above you. It’s all drab and expected, until you pay closer attention. The products are all hilariously surreal, and there are truly hundreds of them on the fully stocked shelves. You’ll find cans of tattooed chicken, bottles of gender fluid, even zalg “America’s forgotten vegetable!” As you inspect the items their enticing labels show something more sinister going on. Most continue the absurd humor but a few seem to break brand style and urge you, beg you, to wake up from what you’re doing, to run away from where you are, to get back to reality, if it even exists any more. At times, the music will seemingly forget its place and skip incessantly as it repeats the same few seconds of music over and over to a maddening degree, only to go back to normal as though nothing happened. At other times, we hear Walter Dram, former CEO and founder of Omega Mart, and parent company Dramcorp, talk through the speakers. He’s exhausted, coughing and barely able to speak, halfheartedly assuring us that Omega Mart is the best supermarket in the universe, the he is Omega Mart, Omega Mart is him. He almost stumbles over his words, telling us about savings and being endlessly lost in the store. This story continues in the produce section, where on video, Walter advertises Omega Mart’s Valley of Plenty in-store brand. There, he, along with daughter Cecelia (heir apparent to Omega Mart and Dramcorp), showcase the incredible fruits and vegetables available for sale. He describes how he found the valley of plenty and admired the hard working local farmers as, taking the opportunity to share the fruits of their labor with the world. Just as the promo video ends, Walter drops his commercial persona and turns into his true exhausted self. He asks if he has to do it again. Cecelia reminds him that it’s his job, that soon she’ll take his place and that for now it is his duty to work. Walter sighs, resigned to his fate. Moments later, the commercial begins again, Walter repeats his spiel.

 As you explore, you’ll find various hideaways that take you to different locations. One such vestibule is the janitor’s closet, which houses nightmarish creatures made from brooms and mops. Their wood handle necks twist around and their fringed rag tails drip with glowing slime. Once you pass through, you enter the Dramcorp factory floor. Unlike the clean(ish) plastic of Omega Mart, the factory is a metallic horror of purplish browns, machines groan all around you as vile liquids ooze through pipes. On the floor above lies Dramcorp’s corporate offices with ominous glows seeping out from its closed doors. Here in the factory, you learn that Dramcorp has been utilizing something called, “Source” to develop and manufacture new products. Omega Mart itself is somehow fully infused with the dreamy, psychotropic qualities of source, but Dramcorp has refined it to make products addicting on a spiritual level. In one hidden corner we find a glowing orb that once was Walter Dram. He laments about his greed and how he went too far in his pursuit of profit. Now, his daughter Cecelia runs Dramcorp and he can only watch as she continues to be woman he raised her to be. Throughout the factory you’ll see that the refinement process is messy and various factory machinery are in disarray as employees try to clean up emotional messes and bliss outbreaks. Signs warn you of rooms with giant bugs or maddening corridors. In another corner, a particularly broken machine is spilling source runoff as a river out of the factory and into Seven Monolith Village.

 Seven Monolith Village is a small valley community in the Nevada desert where Dramcorp’s source runoff pools. Here, the psychedelic energy of the source has transformed the sleepy town into a living Alex Gray painting. The sun bleached rocks crack open with bright colored lines and massive desert wildlife like wolves and snakes now glow in fractal patterns. Giant humanoids made of pure energy slowly appear around you, only to disappear from our plane of existence moments later. Exploring the village leads us to find that the town has been ravaged by Dramcorp’s pollution and is near uninhabitable. One of the few people left Charlie Dram, owner of the local gas station and estranged brother of Walter. In his small gas station, we see that Charlie has begun a new business of collecting source runoff and selling it as a sort of psychedelic elixir. His phone regularly rings with calls from regular customers looking to make purchases from Charlie, many of them Dramcorp employees looking for an escape from their corporate lives.

 Next door to Charlie is a small shack that’s home to Marin Dram, grandniece of Charlie and daughter of Cecelia Dram. Looking through her room we learn her story. Years ago, Cecelia, along with her father Walter, discovered the original, raw source, a remnant of ancient visitors to our Earth from a parallel dimension. Drinking of that well, Cecelia and Walter discovered receive a divine vision for how to make Omega Mart the most profitable supermarket in the multiverse. From there, they tirelessly worked to study the source, finding that it is the wellspring from which all life emerged and all ideas come from. With this knowledge, they developed Omega Mart’s products as addicting and powerfully satisfying. Along with that however, came Marin, an immaculate conception born of both Cecelia and source, with strange abilities unseen by anyone before. Marin was raised by Charlie while her mother was busy running the company, but Cecelia began taking an interest in Marin and the potential for her to lead Dramcorp and Omega Mart into a new age of even greater prosperity. Pushed too far by her mother’s need to groom her into the next CEO, Marin opened a portal and fled our world for somewhere else, and everyone has been looking for her since. The only remains of Marin are lingering projections of her dreams, surreal music videos of being tormented by her mother, teen heartbreak, and visitations from ethereal beings. Now, all of Seven Monolith Village and Dramcorp alike are searching for Marin, to save her, or use her.

 Nearby in another home within 7MV you are drafted into the fight against Dramcorp by an anarchist group fighting against the capitalist propaganda and the abuse against human lives, as well as the earth itself. You must venture back into Omega Mart, as well as Dramcorp’s factory, and hack into their systems before you finally enter the corporate offices.

 Dramcorp’s offices are a nightmarish cavern of cubicles, computers, and offices. The executive portraits have haunting smiles and smoke billows from all around as lights flash in strange patterns. Behind each test facility door are horrific sounds and lights. Each office tells a small story of business drones that work tirelessly in hopes of one day ascending into management nirvana where they will exist fully with the company. All the while, employees drown themselves in the very same poisonous runoff elixirs that they sell in the store downstairs. After hacking into all three branches of Dramcorp’s reach, my involvement with Meow Wolf’s story was complete, though I suspect more is yet to come were I to visit again in the future.

 Omega Mart is rich with themes that comment on capitalism, spirituality, emotional relationships, and much more. The biggest difficulty that has always pervaded immersive art experiences, even those that can be found at theme parks like Walt Disney World, is the difficulty in having thematic density when the audience is not guaranteed to be interacting with the art as intended. While other mediums have the benefit of standardized ways to consume them such as film or literature, immersive art spaces have no set path in which the guest should traverse the space, nor even the guarantee that guests will be able to have the time to interact with the art in ways sufficient of fully understanding the plot. Because of this, many immersive experiences rely on using a heavier hand with its themes and utilizing narrative devices that directly speak to the audience. Commonly, this comes in the form of narration that speaks directly to the audience. Meow Wolf however, takes the risk of the audience not being able to experience the story in the event that they miss key elements. Meow Wolf mitigates this by making it clear through the use of electronic media and hiding certain show elements that guests should be in somewhat of a scavenger hunt mindset. While most of the guests I noticed on my visit had no prior knowledge of their Omega Mart experience involving a story, it was very clear upon entering to everyone that a major aspect of their visit would be interacting with the story should they choose. Meow Wolf themselves have stated that they look to make their stories accessible to all people on the level of the audience’s choosing. A visitor to Omega Mart would not feel ripped off by having not experienced the full story, but rather someone might feel as though their ticket gained value for having fully experienced the depth of Omega Mart’s characters and world.

 Even so, there is still a challenge when designing the story that comes with the nature of the medium of immersive art. Truly, there is no one specific art form that takes center stage here. Each room in Omega Mart could potentially involved artistic use of light, sound (musical and practical), wood work, print design, sculpture, painting, writing, and much more. The challenge in designing Omega Mart is to not only make individual pieces of art that resonate with the audience, but to bring them together within a space that is narratively cohesive rather than just a series of interesting things in a large room. Meow Wolf’s artists were able to pull that off. A common example of that level of connectivity is the referential nature of each space, details in one room would be seen in other rooms, often with new contexts and plot information that would provide greater thematic depth. Many of the humorous gag items available in the grocery store’s aisles could also be found in Dramcorp’s development offices where they could be viewed not as the silly puns you originally saw them as, but now as cynical totems designed on a molecular level to be addicting to consumers. Even more than that, the overall story itself would only be possible by intricately weaving a story throughout the space in a way that guests could understand how each room referenced the other together to create the whole. The end result being an experience in which guests can fully feel as though they visited specific places, met complex individuals, and had meaningful interactions, all of which I did during my trip.

 One of my biggest concerns before visiting was that Omega Mart’s story would be told in a way that said overarching ideas that were ultimately hollow. I dreaded that the only message Meow Wolf would leave me with is the trite “Corporation Bad” that so many hollow pieces of art tout. While a far more nuanced anticapitalism message is a major theme of Omega Mart, the story itself smartly anchors itself within the story Marin Dram. Marin’s story is one that I personally found to be profoundly relatable. The echoing dream in her bedroom mirror has stuck with me for days after my visit, along with the incredibly vaginal nightmare in a nook nearby. Marin’s story reflects each of the themes of Omega Mart’s message, that of feeling used by other, tied between two worlds, and the commodification of bodies for the sake of industry. There is a terrible sadness that I felt in my core as Marin cried at the school dance, only moments later to be covered in milk and cereal by her mother in some feeble attempt to become one with the family business. More than that, the Dramcorp, and the Dram family’s Cecelia and Walter themselves, tout plastic products as the quick fix solution to loneliness. We’re urged to question how we fill our own emptiness with products, or even how we use others as a means to an end. Walter and Cecelia use and consume their loved ones for their goals in much the same way Omega Mart’s customers are primed to use ridiculous products. There is a sadness to the way Cecelia can only connect to others through consumption. She can only connect to her daughter by offering products, she puts her father in the source well to be consumed by the store, ultimately she’ll be consumed herself by whomever is her successor as CEO. Everything in Meow Wolf’s Omega Mart experience is punctuated by the ways they can be balled up in put into your mouth for digestion.

 As an aside, I am somewhat disappointed in how prevalent the discussion of Omega Mart’s lore is both at the experience and online. Much of the discussion’s online is primarily about dissecting the origin of the source, the details of dark nula and light nula, and various other inconsequential details related to the world that props up the thematic meat of Omega Mart. Omega Mart, while not bashing the audience with its message, is not particularly subtle with what it wants to say. It is abundantly clear that Omega Mart’s messages of anticapitalism and reverence for emotional connection are the intended takeaways. One of the biggest drawbacks in how Omega Mart tells its story is the moments in which, typically on phones, the audience is given a neat summary on everything in the story so far. This is very much a personal gripe.

 Omega Mart’s most prominent medium is perhaps space itself. The uniting factor in every individual piece of art that makes up the whole is the unification of space itself, and the clear delineation of crossing the threshold from space that is wholly not Omega Mart, into a space that wholly is. Within that space, Omega Mart’s guests will find themselves walking, climbing, crawling, and even sliding at they traverse the location. We see this create transitionary vestibules like the janitor’s closet from earlier, but also a space bending soda freezer or even a staircase from the store to the offices that has the numbing drone of music fade into haunting groans with each step. As guests traverse the space they also find themselves crossing paths with staff and other guests, all of which flesh out Omega Mart just by the vary nature of being there together. Guests will find themselves falling back into the same patterns and habits they exhibit when visiting real grocery stores, struggling to pass each other in cramped aisles, knocking baskets accidentally and apologizing, all the motions of a grocery store, but none of the actual purposeful substance of visiting a normal grocery store. This contrasts with the purposeful halts guests will make when experiencing the dreams in Marin’s room, stopped and fully enraptured by a story beat. While Omega Mart as an experience is easily considered hard to describe, the actions guests take while there, reading, talking on the phone, navigating a blog, walking up stair, are all deceptively simple.

 However, this comes at a cost. Omega Mart, like much of Meow Wolf’s previous work, is not particularly accessible to many different types of people. The House of Eternal Return has been criticized in the past for not being wheelchair accessible. Omega Mart remedies this by always having multiple ways to access new areas including wide open pathways and an elevator, but the thrill of tunnels, rock climbing, and narrow passages are impossible to experience. Really, anyone who is not able bodied and below a certain size will have challenges when experiencing Omega Mart. Not only that, Omega Mart’s usage of the full emotional spectrum means that some experiences, specifically those that utilize sensory overload to intentionally elicit anxiety in guests, would be almost impossible for many neurodivergent guests, or just guests with sensory difficulties. None of the main experiences and plot requires guests to directly engage with intense rooms or inaccessible spaces, but there still might be a disappointment in some guests when finding that they are unable to fully experience every inch of Omega Mart.

 Meow Wolf has been around since 2008, but beginning with the opening of House of Eternal Return in 2016, Meow Wolf has exploded in popularity and is noted by the theme park industry as a group to watch. House of Eternal Return even received an award for outstanding achievement by the Themed Entertainment Association, one of the industry’s highest honors. While many people are oblivious to the small movements within the themed entertainment industry, the larger pushes done by groups like Disney and Universal do get noticed by the general vacationing public. Some have noted that what Meow Wolf is doing today, could in fact be what Disney is doing a few years from now. Meow Wolf’s principles could be most applicable in the upcoming Galactic Starcruiser experience that also promises to be similarly immersive and engaging to guests. More than that, Meow Wolf does consider their work to be made for the general public rather than niche crowds of art lovers and theme park fans. This is clearly evidenced by how many guests I saw at Omega Mart surprised to find out there was a story at play, some of which actively chose to not engage with in out of disinterest. One does wonder if a version of Meow Wolf’s immersive experiences, bigger than an escape room but not quite EPCOT, that tells a complex story with characters and themes, could be common relatively common place for most people to visit. Meow Wolf is wholly unique in their execution, but spaces of play, even for adults, aren’t. At the same time, while Dave and Buster’s and barcades may be popular, how likely is it that middle class office workers would clock out and head to something like Omega Mart? Even beyond that, Meow Wolf actively updates their experiences in various ways and their website encourage guests to visit at least once a year. I certainly would not be opposed to visiting again in a year, but the experience would be less akin to going on a rollercoaster a second time and more like rewatching a movie. I can’t see typical socialization, small talk and the like, occurring in a place like Omega Mart.

 Ultimately, Omega Mart sets out to, and very much does, create a thematically rich experience that is truly mind bending and challenges the ways we consider our traversal of space, and our connections with others. While everyone will likely come out with a different experience to varying levels of intensity, I personally found my trip to be one of the most spiritually intense experiences of my life, one that drastically made me rethink my relationship to others, as well as to myself. I don’t think visiting Omega Mart should require pre and post consultation with a therapist, but I do encourage guests to be prepared to have at least one of their ideas about the world to be radically challenged. Time will tell if Meow Wolf’s continued work in the world of immersive art experiences is sustainable with an audience, but for now Omega Mart is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before and afterwards you may find yourself to be unlike you were when you entered.

[fishdavidson]

Dream Journal 2021-08-04: Car Trouble Leads To A Visit To The Terrible Games Store

It’s summer in real life and dreamland, so apparently that means it’s road trip season. While I’m chilling in the back seat of an old Dodge Caravan (the boxy early 1990s model) as my parents drive, they announce that there’s a problem with an oil leak and pull into a conveniently located mechanic that happened to materialize just outside the van.

According to the mechanics, we have to unload all the luggage from the back of the van in order for the mechanics to check the oil. This is a perfectly reasonable request, as they are the ones who deal with cars for a living. But once the luggage was unloaded and the back of the van was empty, the shop’s receptionist comes out and exclaims that it is her destiny to sit for at least a moment in the van’s recently-vacated cargo space.

She climbs into the area behind the seats before I can gather my things and exit the vehicle, but it’s not weird or creepy. We high-five and attempt to take a selfie to commemorate the occasion. The camera on my phone starts acting weird and I am momentarily convinced that it is looking at ghosts or at least a parallel reality.

The mechanics inform us that it will be an hour or two before the car is ready, but there’s a strip mall about a block away that we can visit in the meantime. What are we supposed to do with all the crap we took out of the van, though? SPOILER: It doesn’t seem to matter because it got sent to some sort of extradimensional inventory like a videogame character or it disappeared from existence entirely. Now that our material burdens are lightened, it is time to bask in the warm glow of suburban consumerism!

Only one of the shops seems vaguely interesting, so I step inside. An older man and woman, both with wild gray hair and presumably the owners of the store, welcome me by screaming “MOISTURE! MOISTURE!” We’re off to a good start so far!

According to dream logic, this dream is taking place in the current time in the the Year of Our Plague 2021. The wares available in the stores do not reflect this reality. Clamshell VHS tapes take up most of the wall space of the small shop, followed by several racks of preowned stereo cassette tapes.

My parents enter the shop a few moments later (”MOISTURE! MOISTURE!”). The older man compliments us on our matching shirts. Wait, we’re wearing matching clothes? Oh, yes, you mean the large applique pterodactyls we have on our shirts that didn’t exist until just now. I like pterodactyls, so this is a fine development.

“You know... I also have a pterodactyl on my shirt,” the man says. “WE’RE MATCHY-MATCHY MOISTURE!” He turns around to reveal an iron-on pterodactyl patch that takes up the entire back of his shirt. He puts a hand on my shoulder and directs me to look in a small crate on the floor. “You look like the kind of guy who can appreciate the good games. We have lots of good computer games on sale today.“

Despite having a real-life Steam library that is slowly being crushed under all the weight of the games I buy on sale, I pick through the offerings in the crate. Not to seem rude or snobbish, but I don’t run Windows on my computer and wanted to verify that the games had compatibility with my computer before I purchased anything.

I start reading the backs of the game boxes and looking at the system requirements. These are older games judging from the minimal system requirements, but they also have some other really weird requirements. Let’s look at the game Yard Racer, for example. In addition to requiring a 386 processor or higher, it also needs at least 2 acres of open farmland and a sheet of paper. And then there was another game called FROGS? (yes, the title was a question) that needed 4MB of RAM and a blank MS Word document.

Ultimately, I didn’t end up getting anything from that terrible store, but we did spend enough time in there for the oil to get changed so at least we could get back on the trip to wherever we were going.

--------------

Header image taken from an article on YourMechanic.com about how to stow seats in Dodge or Chrysler minivans.

[nerdforestgirl]

Hey.  I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted a story or anything useful, really. But @milyrita asked me for a story of Sheldon getting a makeover a few months ago.  It took me far too long, but I finally finished it.  I hope you enjoy.  Stay safe.  <3

Sheldon looked at himself in the mirror. It was his 40th birthday, and he frowned. Not that it was his birthday or that he was another year older. His life was great. He was married to Amy who was pregnant with their first child. He had a Nobel and tenure at CalTech. The reason he frowned that his clothes made him look like a 40 year old toddler. He was going to be a father in the matter of months, and he looked less like an adult than when he was nine. At least back in those days he wore a button up on occasion. He sighed, but went to find Amy and whatever he had planned for his big day.

It turned out that the big surprise was just dinner with his friends, which was more or less perfect for Sheldon. It was their regular Chinese food with cake at the end. Apparently pregnant Amy didn't have much energy to plan anything more. It made Sheldon wish he had knocked up his wife during all of the previous birthdays he had with her.

Still, Sheldon couldn't help but think about his appearance. Then he looked over at Penny who seemed to know things about fashion. Or at least she was always looking at magazines about it. He decided to pull her to the side.

“What's up?” Penny asked.

“Do you think you could take me shopping this weekend? I would like to have a few outfits that make me look like an adult,” Sheldon admitted quietly.

“Really? I've been waiting for this moment for over a decade,” Penny said with a clap of her hands. She happily agreed to take Sheldon shopping. He regretted asking immediately, but he still wanted to appear to be an adult. He would try this. Even if it was just one day.

Penny knocked on Sheldon's door on Saturday morning so they could head out to the mall. Penny asked Sheldon about what kind of clothes he was looking for, but he just shrugged and said something about wanting to look like an adult. He didn't really have any ideas beyond that. It was why he had brought Penny in on this with him.

“Let's try a few things,” Penny suggested as she handed him a black button up shirt. Sheldon saw a plaid one in a similar style so he added it to the things to try on.

“That will make you look like a dad,” Penny said.

“Perfect. That is exactly the look I am attempting to achieve,” Sheldon said with a smile.

Penny didn't mean it as a compliment, but she let him try it on anyway. She hadn't known that was his motivation, but she still wanted him to look like a stylish dad. The man was a Nobel Prize winner, not just some guy mowing the lawn and barbecuing on Sundays. Either way, no cargo shorts would be allowed.

“How's this?” Sheldon asked as he walked out in a pink fitted shirt and jeans. He didn't actually mind these ones. The shirt showed off his figure better than his normal baggy clothes. Penny forgot that Sheldon had been working out with Leonard a few times a week until she saw that he had put on a little bit of muscle.

“I think you should be ready for Amy to jump on you when you get home,” Penny teased.

“You think she will hate it so much that she will attack me?” Sheldon asked. He was disappointed. This was the first outfit that he actually liked so far.

“No. She will find you unbearably sexy and will want to have coitus,” Penny explained.

“Oh,” Sheldon said. Then Penny caught a little grin on his face. She was going to insist that he get his outfit for sure. They spent a couple more hours trying out new looks.

“I told Leonard I would be home in time for dinner with him and the baby. Let's get these, and then I'm taking you to get a proper haircut. If you want to look like an adult, we're getting your haircut too,” Penny said when they had a decent pile of new clothes picked out. He was going to wear the pink shirt and the jeans out of the store.

“I don't need a haircut,” Sheldon insisted.

“Sweetie, you do. Let's go,” Penny told him.

Sheldon pouted and continued to insist that he was fine with his hair the way it was. He liked this hairstyle. He had had this hairstyle since he was old enough to choose it for himself. Then he realized that this whole point of this exercise was to make him look like an adult instead of a nine year old. His hair would grow back if he didn't like it. And perhaps he could get used to a new hairstyle. It took very little time for him to fall in love with Amy's shorter hair after all. Adjusting to change was what becoming a father was all about. He might as well start now while he had a couple months to go.

The new hairstyle wasn't vastly different. Just a little shorter in the back and on top. Plus a bit of product to give it some volume. Not nearly as different as Amy's new cut had been all those months ago, but also not the style of a nine year old boy either.

“You look great, Sheldon. I call this a job well done,” Penny proclaimed when she saw the whole look put together. She thought that maybe Sheldon could use some glasses to complete the nerd chic thing going on, but he didn't need them. Maybe in a few years all the screen time would catch up to him.

“Do you think Amy will like it?” Sheldon asked. She was the only person other than himself whose opinion mattered at all in this matter.

“I wasn't kidding earlier. I think you are going to have a late night tonight,” Penny said.

“A late night? Oh. The coitus because I am attractive. Right,” Sheldon said with a nod. It had only been a week for him, which wasn't very much time, but he knew this was a risk when he went shopping.

“Let's go show her,” Penny suggested.

Sheldon opened the door to his apartment with all of his shopping bags in hand. Penny followed close behind because she wanted to see Amy's reaction to Sheldon's new style. She stepped forward when she saw Amy look up from her book and immediately started crying.

“What's wrong?” Sheldon asked as he rushed to Amy. She cried more now that she was pregnant, but he hadn't become accustomed to it. It still upset him to see her cry.

“Well, have fun, kids,” Penny said and let herself out of the apartment. Something was going wrong, and she wanted as far away from it as possible.

“What did you do?” Amy asked her husband. She barely noticed that Penny was there or had left. Sheldon looked completely different. And Amy hated all of it. She walked closer and he smelled of cologne instead of his normal baby powder. It was like he was a whole different person. She wanted her Sheldon. Not this imposter.

“I wanted to look like an adult,” Sheldon said. He had prepared for a very different reaction than his wife crying. He was startled because normally even if Amy hated something like this, she usually had the tact to say it politely.

“Why on earth did you think I would want that? I want my husband. I want him back,” Amy shouted.

Sheldon nodded and ran into their bedroom. He put back on a baggy pair of khakis and a t-shirt. There wasn't much he could do about his hair, but he brushed it back down to his usual style. He also felt deflated. He hadn't done this for Amy, but he didn't think she would hate it the way she did. He slunk back out to the living room for Amy to inspect.

“Why did you change? You never change anything you don't have to. Are you cheating on me?” Amy asked through tears as she inspected the other clothes Sheldon purchased. All of it was expensive high quality clothes. Not a t-shirt in sight.

“Of course I'm not cheating on you. I barely have coitus with you, and I love you more than anyone else on the planet,” Sheldon said. He was defensive because he never would have dreamed that Amy would even suggest something like that.

“So, you didn't change everything because I'm fat, and you want to be with someone else?” Amy asked.

“You aren't fat, and I'd never want to be with someone else. I bought these things because I don't want to take our son to daycare and have the other parents think I am a very large escaped toddler. I am going to be a father, and I want to look the part,” Sheldon explained.

Amy sniffled and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. Sheldon made a mental note to have it cleaned immediately. Not everything about him had changed.

“You did look very handsome. It scared me because I don't feel like I match such a handsome man right now,” Amy admitted. It took her some time to actually understand why she was so upset. It took until wild accusations started flying out of her mouth to connect the dots. Now that she had, she felt a little ashamed.

“You are very beautiful, but you are also very pregnant. Your body will not stay this way,” Sheldon reminded her as he walked closer to gently hug her.

“You're right. I overreacted.”

“So, I can keep the clothes and the haircut?” Sheldon asked.

“Of course,” Amy said with a smile.

“But you don't want to jump on me?” Sheldon asked.

Amy looked confused for a moment, but then understood what he meant with the phrase slightly off. “I always want to jump on you. Would you like to show me the rest of the things you bought? We can see which one makes me strip you out of it,” Amy teased. She didn't think they would actually have sex. It had been only a week since the last time. However, if Sheldon was bringing it up, maybe it was on the table.

“I think the suit would really have you going, but it's being tailored. Let me show you the cashmere sweater,” Sheldon said with a renewed smile. He was glad that Amy was coming around. Now they could be the most fashionable couple around.

[annab-nana]

Who Is He - Colby Brock

While at a normal day of work, Y/n gets an influx of images of what looks like Colby all over another girl. Distraught, she leaves work, talks to her best friend, and goes home to deal with her “cheating” boyfriend.

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 2.6k+

--------------------------------------------------

"I'm going on break, Mel. See you in thirty!" I say as I grab my wallet and head out the door to the food court. Melanie waves at me before I exit. Mel and I both work at a boutique in the mall called EnEx, short for Envious Expressions. I have several work friends, but Mel and I are the closest.

I make it to the food court, grab me some Chinese food, and go back to EnEx to eat in the break room. As I eat, I scroll through my phone, replying to a few texts I received earlier while I was working.

Dev: Hey! What are you doing after work? I was wondering if you wanted to go get our nails done. I NEED to get mine done bad lol

Y/n: I so would but I don't get off until super late at 10:30. How about tomorrow?

Dev: Yesssss! See you tomorrow ❤️

Then I had some messages from Colby.

Colbs💜: im ready for you to be home

Y/n: It's only been a few hours, love

Colbs💜: a few hours too many

Y/n: You'll survive. If I can be without you for all these TFIL and XPLR trips, I'm pretty sure you can be without me while I'm at work.

Colbs💜: i know, you know i love you right?

Y/n: Yes babe, you remind me of that every chance you get. I love you too ❤️

Colbs💜: well i guess i'll let you get back to work baby, see you later

Y/n: Okay bye love

After that, I started scrolling through Instagram, liking several pictures from my friends and fan stuff of Colby and me. I loved that Colby's followers weren't super hateful towards me and our relationship. In the beginning, things were kind of rough but once people realized that I'm not going anywhere and am staying in Colby's life, the hate died down. Now people make edits of me and him both together and separately. Some people even have fan pages of just me, which is still so insane to me and crazy to think about. But I love to just scroll through the ones with me or Colby or the both of us and like the pictures or videos and read the stories. Lots of the stories were so interesting and well-written and some were spot on with our personalities or things we would say. I'm still not used to all of this and I don't think I will truly ever be.

My DMs are also filled with several fans messaging me and I love to talk back with them and get to know them and if I ever get to meet them, it makes the encounter so much better. I normally check them while I'm on my break so that's what I do. However, when I open them, I am not met with the typical fans' messages. I have several direct messages from fans and other random people sending me pictures. Each one I open brings more and more tears to my eyes.

Apparently, Colby was not at Jake’s filming a video as he had told me. He was at the bar and had his arm around another girl. Some pictures had them kissing and in others, they were hugging. Not in any of them could I see his face, but I could see the wolf and moon tattoos that were inked into his triceps clear as day.

Calming myself down was the hard part. I have no idea what to do. I grabbed a napkin and dried my tears before looking at Snapchat to see my reflection. I can't stay at work and focus on folding clothes and running the cash register while these pictures flutter around in my mind. Once I made sure it didn't look like I was just crying, I walked to my boss's door and knocked.

"Come in," Janine said quickly. I pushed the door slightly open and slipped in. Janine's hazel eyes glanced up from the papers she was shuffling through to meet mine. She could tell something was up with me and gestured towards the chair sitting in front of her desk 

"What's wrong y/n?" Janine asked me as she set her papers to the side. She has always understood me, and I love that about her, even though it got on my nerves sometimes.

"Umm... I need to leave. Some personal stuff came up and I can't be here right now." I tell her in hopes she'll understand. She gives me a sad look before nodding her head.

"You can go. I'll call Sadie or Gracey to see if they can cover you and if they can't, I will. Do you want to tell me what's going on or do you want to head on home?" Her sweet voice asks me. I give her a small smile as I stand up.

"I'm going to go home now, but I'll tell you about it next week. Thank you," I say as she stands, and we hug. We say goodbye and I gather my things.

"Where do you think you're going?" I hear Mel chuckle from behind me.

"I'm going to Xepher's because my boyfriend is a piece of shit," I confess to her.

"Woah, what the fuck happened?" Mel grabs my shoulder to turn me around and the tears fill my eyes once again. I pull out my phone and show her the pictures. Her eyes widen as she goes through them all and then she turns my phone off.

"Oh y/n," she whispers before pulling me into her embrace. Her comforting hand runs up and down my back and we pull away from each other. "I've got to head back but go to Xepher's. Tell her I said hey and dump that loser. Love you, girl!" I hug her and grab my stuff before walking to my car.

Once I'm in my car, I let the tears flow as I make my way to my best friend's house. I pull in and walk to her door. My hand knocks against the wood door and my friend comes to it in response.

"Y/n, what's wrong?" She asked as she saw my tear-stained face and pulled me into her apartment. We walked into her living room where Griffin was.

"What happened?" Griffin asked as Xeph sat me down between the two. I explained everything to them and showed them the pictures. There was no denying that it was Colby in the photos. 

"It's obvious that Colby doesn't appreciate you. You deserve so much better," Griffin told me as he wrapped his arms around me, comforting my sobbing self.

"I thought I had a good one, but Xeph, you have the best one out there. Don't let anything happen to him." The two chuckle at my response before getting serious again.

"So, what are you going to do?" Xepher asked me, grabbing my hand and rubbing the back of it with her thumb. I shrugged.

"I don't know. I kind of want to wait it out to see how long he is going to lie to me about it. But if he doesn't say anything in the next few days, then I'm just going to disappear for a week and get a much-needed vacation or something." Xepher gives me an understanding nod before I stand up.

"I'm going to head home now. It's about time for me to come home from work anyway. Wish me luck guys." I say before hugging them both and leaving to take the dreaded journey home.

I walk into my shared apartment with Colby and set my keys down on the counter. The house appears to be empty which makes me even angrier. Who is he out with now without me knowing? I walk past the living room and head to the bedroom.

"Y/n!" I hear Colby's voice ring from the office room. His footsteps approach me, and I feel his arms wrap around my waist and he plants tiny kisses all over the side of my face and neck. I almost forget everything and reciprocate the same feelings, but I hold back.

"Hey, I had a bad day at work and I really just want to shower and go to bed. Sorry, love," I tell him as I pull his arms away from me and walk into the bathroom. He follows and leans against the doorframe.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asks me, concern laced in this deep voice. I roll my eyes to myself and turn around to face him.

"Not right now. Maybe later?" I say and he nods. I close the door and turn to face my reflection in the mirror. I felt like I had no more tears left in me and I just looked sad. I stripped my clothes and took a long hot shower. I wrapped myself up in a towel and walked into our bedroom to find something to sleep in. Normally, I would wear one of Colby's shirts and some underwear to bed, but I decided to wear one of my oversized shirts and a pair of shorts. I left to go back to the bathroom and brushed through my hair. Then, I went back to our room and climbed into bed. As soon as I did, I heard his footsteps. I felt the bed dip next to me and soon, his arms found their way around my waist.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about what happened at work today?" Colby whispers in my ear as his hand rubs up and down my side.

"Yes Colby," I reply as I roll onto my stomach, attempting to fall asleep. I feel Colby scoot closer to me and whisper, "I know what will cheer you up."

That sentence is followed by the sensation of a pair of lips against my neck. I tried my best to ignore it, but that proved to be harder than I thought. I couldn't help the way he made me feel and right now, I hate myself for it. His trail of kisses traveled from my neck up to my cheek until they got close to my mouth.

"Colby, I don't want to do this right now," I mumble against his lips. He pulled away from me, sadness and confusion evident upon his face.

"Did I do something? I don't know why, but I'm getting this feeling that you're mad at me," Colby admitted. I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed huff.

"Well gee, I wonder what gave you that impression," I responded, hearing the immense amount of sarcasm rolling off my tongue. The bitch in me was coming out, but the douche bag in him came out last night when his dumb ass cheated. The level of anger in me was at an all-time high. I don't think I ever been this angry and hurt by someone and the sad thing is that I thought Colby was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

"Y/n?" I hear his voice call out to me. I sit up and turn around to face him as I watch his face grow sad as he stares at me. A few tears had disobeyed me and fallen out of my eyes anyway.

"Why?" I ask him sincerely as the tears stream down. He reaches for my hand to soothe me, but I pull my hand away, placing it in my lap.

"Why what? I don't know what happened. Why you're so upset?" he questioned. That ticked me off. He knows exactly what he did. I rose to my feet and stood by the window, gazing out of it and watching people walk by. They look so happy. I wish I was as happy as they appeared to be.

"Colby, you know what you did. It's all over Instagram and everyone's been dming me about it. Don't play dumb. It's not a cute look on you." I stated. I could practically feel the anger coursing through my veins. I felt like I could actually explode at any given moment.

By the look on his face, I could tell he was taken back. I've never acted like this around him because he has never given me a good reason to. I don't normally behave this way unless someone seriously pisses me off.

"Y/n, I am being completely honest when I say this, but I have no fucking clue what you are talking about. Will you please just tell me what I did?" he pleaded. My eyes automatically roll again as I reach for my phone that was sitting on the bedside table and open the sunset-colored app. I open my direct messages which have new messages about the subject and toss it to him.

"Explain that," I demand as I fold my arms across my chest and resume my stare out the window. I hear a hum come from him and my gaze becomes fixated on him again.

"That's not me," he tells me as he places my phone down in front of him on the bed.

"What the fuck do you mean it's not you? It looks just like you. The dark hair. A black shirt with black jeans which was what you were wearing last night when you went off to... Where was it you said you went? Oh yeah, filming at Jake’s. I've been to his place and it doesn't look like that. And the fucking moon and wolf tattoos, Colby. How is that not you?" I basically scream at him.

"Did you see my face?" He asks calmly.

"No, but Colby everything else-" I start but he cuts me off.

"DID you see my face?" He reiterates. I let out a sigh of defeat and shake my head.

"No," I almost whisper.

"Do you want me to call Jake and ask him if I was with him last night? Do you want me to ask Kat if he saw me with Jake at Ralph's last night? Do you want me to dm Luke and ask him if he was at the bar last night?" Colby questions me.

"Who's Luke?" I ask him and he grabs my phone before showing me a picture that he had posted on his secret account on Instagram. The image had Colby and another guy, Luke I'm assuming, and they both had the wolf and moon tattoos on the back of their arms. From behind, they look the exact same. Well, I feel like shit.

"You don't have to call anyone. I believe you. I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions and didn't think." I said as I looked down at the ground. I feel like such a piece of garbage. Colby walked up to me and pulled me into his forgiving embrace. There, I broke into tears. I felt so bad for just assuming that he would do that when I know he wouldn't.

"Hey it's okay. I would have thought the same thing. We look almost identical from that angle. At least I know not to mess with you now, " he laughed which got a small giggle from me.

"I don't want to lose you. That's what I was afraid of, that I had already lost you." I confess as I cry into his chest.

"Y/n, baby, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere," he says, and I pull away from him, only to go in for a kiss.

"I love you," I whisper against his lips, going back in for more.

"I love you more," he whispers back, and a blush rose to my cheeks.

"Now how about you cheer me up the only way you know how?" I whisper seductively in his ear. A cheeky grin spreads across his face and he nods. Picking up where he left off, his lips travel from my lips to my ear where his nibbles on it lightly before whispering in it.

"Maybe Luke should go out more often if it ends up like this."

[trillian-anders]

suspect - iv

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: descriptive violence, graphic descriptions of crime scenes, angst, slow burn

word count: 3k

description: au detective!bucky barnes x investigative journalist!reader;

still wet behind his ears, detective barnes is given his very first homicide case, a woman no one seems to care about had been murdered. it’s only when investigative journalist reader brings the small details to his attention that he realizes there’s a bigger problem. a serial killer no one was paying attention to.

When the police questioned you after your Mother’s death you just couldn’t remember. You were their only witness. And you couldn’t remember.

You’d been in your pajamas, eating cereal and watching cartoons. It was the middle of the day when your Mom answered the door. A man followed her in the house. You could hear them in the hallway. And then loud noises. You remember hearing your Mom scream. And then nothing. It was quiet.

And you were found days later with your Mom’s rotting corpse in the next room.

You shake it from your head.

“It’s not uncommon for you to blackout parts of your memory that are harmful,” Bucky sighs, “Especially as a child.” You traced the words in your notebook. It made you feel useless. Like you could have put the guy away maybe. The right guy. Because you know it’s not Fury. You know it entirely.

“I’ve been in therapy for years.” You explain, “Trying to uncover the memory, trying to work through it… it’s just gone.” He nods across from you, the plates empty, and check placed down between you. The exhaustion finally hits. And you’re tired.

“I should be getting the autopsy reports back in tomorrow.” He scrubs his face, “And then I’m sure I’ll have to report to Steve and get the go ahead to come to the group meeting.” With Rumlow, which gave you pause.

“You need to make sure he knows that these are all friends and family of murder victims.” Blunt and clear, Bucky looks at you from over his fingertips. “Rumlow… he can’t come into this group meeting and be an asshole to everyone.” A nod from him.

“I’ll have to talk to Steve about his behavior tonight too.” Crossing his arms and sitting back, “It was just unacceptable.” A nod as you both drift into silence. “Did you drive here?” You shake your head,

“I don’t live far.” As you both slip from the booth to walk outside.

“Let me drive you home.” He offers, tapping his fob, the headlights of his car flashing in front of you.

“It’s honestly like, two blocks.” You point with your hand in your pocket. He shrugs, tapping the fob again locking the car.

“We can walk then.” He was insistent and you honestly couldn’t blame him. You just didn’t want to make him feel inconvenienced about it. You knew this neighborhood, it was on the cusp of being in those bad parts of town, your apartment straddling the line. You could tell he was tired. Just in the way he walked beside you.

“You really didn’t have to.” You say, reaching the steps of your apartment building. You key in the code at the door and buzz in. He follows you inside.

“I do have to.” His voice raspy with fatigue, “It’s not safe out here, why do you even live here?” The cracked linoleum, the yellow fluorescent lights. You shrug, honestly you felt like maybe a nicer place wouldn’t feel right. You’d lived in places like this your entire life. Kicking your foot against the linoleum you look at him in the harsh light. The bags under his eyes.

“Convenient I guess.” He shrugs.

“Text me when you’re in your apartment,” Gesturing toward the elevator. “Let me know when you’re safe.” It warmed your heart a little bit, the concern. He smiles at you as the elevator doors shut, and keys tossed onto the kitchen counter, shoes kicked aside you collapse into your bed.

Thank you. You draft, I’ll see you tomorrow. Send.

See you then.

Bucky sighs, stepping from the apartment building and looking up the side, the various lit windows before trekking back to his car. Today was rough, but he had the feeling that tomorrow would be even worse.

The next day the precinct was buzzing with activity. A group at the front talking to a beat cop, arms crossed and somber. He met the eyes of one. A young man, eyes red and weepy, looking just as tired as Bucky felt. Walking back into the bullpen the normal workload seeming even heavier, everyone seemed to have three things to do and three more on the backburner. Rumlow in the back room was setting up a pin board with victim one and two. And a woman with short brown hair, arms crossed, sitting back on the conference table, watching him do it.

As he approached further, he could see the FBI badge on her hip. This must be her. The agent they’ve sent because they had to.

“Barnes.” Rumlow nods at him as he enters the room. “This is Agent Hill.” The woman stood from the desk, holding her hand out for him to shake.

“From the FBI.” She looks serious, like she has to be to survive in a world mostly ruled by men. Her handshake is firm. Bucky feels sorry that she had to put up with Rumlow without him as a buffer.

“Nice to meet you.” She gestures to the board Rumlow was still working on.

“Would you say this is accurate?” The two bodies photographed right below the pictures of both girls. Always that high school graduation picture, Cheryl’s one with her kids probably done at the mall. Bucky’s hand clenched around his coffee cup a little harder. Sighing, thinking briefly about how your Mom was once up on one of these boards.

It gave him a strange feeling he couldn’t quite cope with, so he tears his eyes away.

“Yeah,” A sip from his coffee cup, “That’s about right.” A long sigh. She nods,

“Have you talked to any of the girls on the street?” It pained Bucky to tell her yes,

“But they didn’t really want to talk to us.” Rumlow said as he pinned another picture up.

“They didn’t want to talk to you.” Bucky accused. Rumlow shot him a glare. Kind of like, how are you going to embarrass me like this? Something he’d for sure bring up later.

“Do we have any leads?” Agent Hill asked, exasperated, like she just walked into a giant mess. Bucky reasoned, she did. But then he remembered you, the diner last night.

“Yes.” He ignores the look from Rumlow. “An old police cruiser, one of the girls said she saw Cheryl get into a stripped old model police cruiser.” Agent Hill nods,

“Okay, so we will see which ones have gone to auction.” A shrug, “Go from there.”

Steve’s door was closed when Bucky approached it, a knock to enter. The ‘come in’ from behind the thick oak. Steve smiles at him sheepishly as Bucky opens the door, brushing the bagel crumbs off his shirt. Bucky notices how tired Steve looks, but not a hair out of place, the bags under his eyes show the fatigue.

“You doin’ alright?” Bucky asks, shutting the door and sinking down in the chair across from his friend. Steve sighs, running his hand through his hair. A bad habit he tried to keep himself from. Bucky watched him as he silently scolded himself for it and shook more sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah,” Gruff and unlike him usually, “Had a bit of an argument with Peg last night. She made me sleep on the couch.” Bucky barked a laugh, met with Steve’s glare.

“What did you do?” Steve rolled his eyes, “C’mon pal, I know you did something, Peg is a saint.” Steve gives him a tight smile,

“What do you want Buck?” A sigh, sinking further into the chair, Bucky looks around Steve’s office.

“Remember back in 2015 when you bought your Dad’s old cruiser?” Steve’s brow pulled together in confusion,

“Yeah, why?”

“Apparently our guy was driving one of them when he picked up Cheryl Hansen a few nights ago.” Steve sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat, thinking for a moment.

“An old police cruiser…” Shaking his head, “You’ll have to look through the old auction files,” A pause, “There were quite a few cars sent to auction.” On his fingers he counted, “I was gifted my Dad’s… I know Pierce took his old beat car, but so did a bunch of other higher ups.” A shrug, “A couple of the guys out there bought one for novelty, but I think about twenty went out for public auction.”

Bucky nods, “Okay, okay.” A tug on his lip, “We’re gonna pull the old files and see if we can start going around…” He looked across at his friend, “Is there any way you could get Rumlow assigned somewhere else?”

Steve laughed at that, “Already?” Sitting back in his chair, “I thought you would have at least stuck it out for the rest of the week.” Bucky rolled his eyes,

“The guy is a menace; I would get a girl to talk and here he would come and make some bullshit comment or stand too close.” A huff, “He’s holding me back.”

“He’s got more experience than you, Buck.” A half smirk, “And Pierce would have my head if I took him off, so I’m gonna have to say no. Anything else you want to ask?”

Bucky thought about you, a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, “That reporter that was in here a couple days ago… no listen.” He holds his hand out as Steve sets his jaw. “I think she could really help.”

“Buck—”

“She runs this relief fund for families of the victims, and they meet up once a month,” Resting his hand on the desk, “One is happening today, just give me the okay to go out there and question some of the families.” Steve seemed to debate it for a moment before lacing his hands over his belly.

“Pierce said no reporters.” Firm.

“But it’s not to give her information, it’s to interview people familiar to the old case.” Steve debated it a moment more before shaking his head with a sigh.

“Fine, but no statements better show up in the paper tomorrow.” Bucky grinned at his friend, Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m serious Buck.”

“I know you are.” That grin of satisfaction not leaving his face. Steve laughed,

“Now get out of my office.”

…

Wanda seemed in brighter spirits today as she lay out the food. Pietro carrying in boxes with the foil dishes while you set up the chairs and tables. Softly music played in the background. Just something to fill the silence as Wanda unwrapped dishes of cookies and lit sterno under dishes served hot. She jokes with you and Pietro about some show she was watching last night. Something you couldn’t ever be bothered to watch yourself, but you humored her as she talked about the drama that had unfolded between two couples.

People start arriving staggered. The early ones help you finish setting up, the ones coming in later met with raucous greeting from old friends. A lot of them with kids of their own. A table set up with crafts to keep them busy while their parents mingle and chat. Spouses here to support. Friends and people struck by the cause.

While it was your favorite day of the month, it was also the most tiring. A non-stop stream of greetings and hugs, marveling at how some kids have grown, wondering aloud about activities for them for next month and seeing what they would like.

But the questions you received the most, the reason for your high anxiety about this whole day, was…

“Is he back?”

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“What should we do?”

And you just didn’t have an answer. Not yet. Not today. Not so soon. Sophie didn’t show, but then again you didn’t expect her to. It was far too soon. And Christine’s family didn’t have much to do with her anyway.

You looked for him, Bucky. You found your head turning towards the door every time you heard someone come in or out. The disappointment clear in it being someone coming back in from a smoke break was alarming and you weren’t quite sure why you were feeling this way. A paper cup with your name written on in sharpie with lemonade in it held in hand you continued to make your rounds, unaware that he’d even arrived until he sought you out.

“Hey.” Breathy and it sent a pleasant chill down your spine. Rumlow standing in the doorway with a woman you didn’t recognize. Your eyes meet Bucky’s and you couldn’t help the smile.

“Hey.”

He was in plainclothes. Not the normal button down and tie he was usually wearing. But something soft. Something you could imagine sticking your nose into. Something you had to shake from your head almost immediately. Hands in his pockets he looks around.

“Good turn out.” You agree, trying to get over him in jeans and a t-shirt.

“We stay pretty consistent.” You smile, “Today has been a good day considering… So, what did the autopsy reports say?” You see Rumlow and the other woman break off into the crowd, no doubt to try to get any information. He sighs,

“Sexual assault…” Shaking his head, “But no DNA left… and the fingers are being taken while they’re still alive, both of them anyway.” A heavy sigh. “They found no ketamine in Christine’s system, but I’m thinking that maybe because it was his first kill he wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Yeah,” You take a sip of lemonade, “That’s probably it… what about the cars?”

“I’ve got the go ahead, we are having auction records pulled… we just need someone to talk now.” He looks around the room, “Someone has to know something.”

“You think maybe there’s another witness?” He shrugs,

“I mean it’s possible,” He licks his lips, “Do you think that girl you talked to would talk again?”

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, “She wasn’t really comfortable even talking to me.” You watch him nod, “Do you want something to drink?” You lift your cup, he gives you a soft smile,

“Whaddya got?”

Wanda was over by the snack table, organizing and reorganizing. Getting rid of trays as they empty. You wished she would interact more, socialize and talk to people without the buffer of the table in between but this is what made her comfortable.

“Wanda.” She smiles softly and looks at the man beside you. “This is Detective Barnes.” The cracks there, as her smile slowly shifts into a frown and then back.

“Nice to meet you,” Holding out his hand for her to shake, which she doesn’t take. He nervously wipes it on his jeans.

“You’re going to stop him.” She says, voice shaking, “Right?” You set your cup down and step onto the other side of the table, gently placing your arms on hers.

“Wanda,” Her eyes focused on him, “Come on honey,” You look at Bucky whose face has pulled into sorrow. “I think you need a break.” Your eyes scan the crowd for Pietro, finding him flirting unabashedly with the woman who had entered with Bucky and Rumlow, sighing heavily, you gently begin to lead Wanda from the room.

“I’ll do everything I can.” Bucky’s voice firm with resolve from behind you. You cast him a glance over your shoulder as you bring Wanda into the back room, his eyes meeting yours and giving you a firm nod.

Maybe things would be different this time after all.

…

Bucky felt a guilt gnaw in his chest and he really looked around this room for the first time.

When he’d first entered, he’d been so focused on finding you. A happiness blooming in his chest as he watched you laugh with someone. A smile on your face as a little girl seemed to be telling you some animated story, amusing enough to make you full belly laugh twice before he began to make his way over to you. The luck of it being the girl parting with her father in tow as he reached you.

The flush in your cheeks just about did him in.

These people were happy, sure. As he looked around the room, he could see the smiles and cheeriness of those who have found solace in one another over such a deep rooted trauma. But there was a sadness there too.

For a moment he was proud of what you’d accomplished with this. Bringing all of these people together over what must have been your own guilt about your Mother’s death. What good had come out of it.

He couldn’t imagine, thinking about it, if his own Ma had been murdered. Let alone the brutality in those women’s last moments. The horror of it. It dried his mouth. It made his stomach churn and gave him the sudden urge to step outside and dial.

She picked up on the second ring, like she always did.

“Hi Ma.” Soft into the phone, like he was a little boy and just needed her at this moment.

“Jaime, what’s wrong?” Because she would immediately know. She would always immediately have known. He sighs,

“This new case I’m workin’ on…” He starts, “Just a little rough, I just needed to hear your voice.” She hums from the end of the line.

“Are you okay?” He rests his back against the brick of the building, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth, ripping at the dead skin there.

“I think I will be,” Scrubbing his face with his hand, “It’s just… someone’s lost their mother.” A swallow, “Just wanted to call and tell you that I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart.” It warmed his chest but made him ache at the same time. You were how old when you lost your Mom?

You never got to do this. You could never call her when you were feeling upset. You could never just pop in to go see her and she would never make your favorite food just to cheer you up.

Something sat raw and acidic in Bucky’s gut, something he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake until this guy was behind bars.

“Come see me when you can, okay?” His Ma’s voice, sweet and comforting. He closes his eyes, resting his head against the brick and fights back the tears of grief he feels for you.

“Okay.”