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jade-parcels · 3 years

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The bunnies’ other jobs!

From my bunny cafe au

((I am so peeved :((( I had this all written out!! And I deleted it by accident!! Darnnnnn!!!))

Anon asked “You mentioned that some of the bunnies have day jobs so do they all have jobs outside the cafe or just a few?” (Something along these lines…again…I deleted it by accident 😔)

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Diluc/‘Angel’

After his father got bored with the wine industry, he passed the whole company off to Diluc on his 18th birthday in order to shift his focus to mining. Diluc found himself swamped with all kinds of business decisions while just barely being an adult. He expanded the company and hired some very trustworthy people to handle things for him so he could finish college

When the business was given to him, Diluc and Kaeya had an explosive fight over it. Kaeya felt like he deserved to have some say in what happens to the business, he’s still a part of the family! But Diluc refused to let him in on any decisions so Kaeya packed his bags and left (not before cussing him out in front of their father, staff and business partners). He was just in a silly, goofy mood. They’re fine now, not on the best terms but they do chat and meet up for lunch on occasion.

He is filthy rich, he couldn’t spend all of his all of his money if he tried, so he doesn’t really need the job at the cafe! Kaeya got him the job because he knew his brother was stuck in a weird, antisocial funk and needed some fun in his life

Diluc loves this job, he has a great time, but it isn’t his main job. His priority will always be the family business!! If he has to quit his job at the cafe, he would in a heartbeat

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Kaeya

Kaeya was going to go into the police academy but was scouted out by a modeling agency. They had seen him at Ragnvindr company events and thought ‘well damn’ so they gave him a pretty generous deal

Kaeya makes a good living off of modeling, the tips and paycheck from the cafe. He rakes in cash pretty quickly just cause he knows how to get it. That, and his dad sends him checks every other month as well. Kaeya thinks of it as ‘I’m sorry’ money. He isn’t wrong

He doesn’t travel much for modeling, which he doesn’t mind, so he kinda just hangs around the city with a lot of free time on his hands between photo shoots. That’s why he got this job at the cafe! It gives him something to do and it’s fun as hell ;)

Albedo

Bedo is one busy bunny. He finished college early and is getting his masters degree online. He works most days at the cafe and on the weekends, he tutors other college students in bio/chem/science related subjects

(He was actually Xiao’s tutor back when he was failing chemistry!! Xiao is very thankful for Albedo’s help!!)

His dream is to become a biochemist, he’s always been interested in cells and what makes up living beings. So having a career in that field would make him the happiest man alive

His mother and sister live outside the city in a more rural area so he spends a lot of time FaceTiming the two of them! Klee is always so excited to hear about Albedo’s experiments or the people he’s met while working in such a bustling, fun city :)

Zhongli

Zhongli is a simple man! He’s a bunny waiter and an artist

He creates intricate pieces based on folklore from different cultures, focusing mostly on dragons. His favorite medium is paint, he loves painting on glass and layering the panes in order to create a 3D piece

He sells his works to galleries, shops and anyone who wants them! As long as they appreciate the story behind the artwork. Sadly…He undersells his work. He could def be making more money but he just does not desire money or material goods the way others may

So he got his job at the cafe in order to help out his dear friend Ningguang, not for money, he only planned on working there for a month or two until she got more bunnies but…he ended up really loving the people he works with :’) he looks forward to working with them now and texts/calls them outside of work to meet up for lunch or bowling (such an old man thing to do omfg)

Dainsleif/‘Sweetie’

Dain was a bouncer at another bar before leaving to come to Celestia’s! He’s good friends with Beidou, they belong to the same motorcycle club so when she was talking to him about the lack of security at the cafe/bar, he stepped in to help out

Little did he know…he’d actually become a bunny…And like it

This is his full time job now, he doesn’t have another for the time being. While he is a bunny at the cafe, he still keeps an eye out for any threats to his coworkers and has access to the offices upstairs (Ningguang’s office and the security office)

When he isn’t waiting tables, he’s upstairs in a tank top and sweatpants keeping an eye on the security cameras and talking to the other security guards through their ear pieces

Ajax

Ajax is a student who doesn’t really have much time on his hands

He mows lawns in the summer and he’s quit his job as a cashier to come work at the cafe! He mostly works night shifts his cause he’s still going to school aaaaaand he’s on his college’s swim team! He’s about to graduate so he works close with his coach to help train the others on the team

He doesn’t really want his family knowing that he skips around in a skimpy bunny outfit and fucking customers most nights but I mean…They’re bound to find out if they see him in pictures people post

Xiao/‘Tofu’

Xiao is an art student!! He wants to be a tattoo artist :)

He’s already got one sleeve of tattoos, it’s unfinished but you can’t really tell just by looking. When he isn’t at the cafe, he’s either in class or shadowing Ganyu, his best friend and tattoo artist. Their art styles greatly differ, she focuses her craft on cutesy, colored tattoos, but she is skilled. And Xiao looks up to her

Xiao admires Zhongli too, they met at the cafe and when Zhongli found out Xiao wants to be a tattoo artist he told him that once he’s licensed, he wants to get a tattoo from him :’)

Baizhu/‘Honey’

Baizhu is a (mostly) full time pharmacist, hence why he isn’t usually at the cafe

He also has a niece, Qiqi, who he babysits often. He loves her very much so he has no problem watching her! Baizhu will even bring her to the pharmacy with him when he’s swamped with work. In the break room, he has a play kitchen, coloring books and a bunch of puzzles to keep Qiqi occupied while he works :)

When he’s not at work, he’s at home resting. He has chronic pain flare ups in his back and shoulders that can make life miserable :( he has plenty of good days that outweigh the bad! And as a pharmacist, he has access to any medicine he needs to make his life easier!

Dottore(Alain)/‘Doc’

Alain’s an oral surgeon who’s a little bit….too into his job

He isn’t phased by blood or gore so he’s easily able to conduct procedures that would make other squeamish. He’ll pull teeth, put in dental implants, remove rotten tissue, any of that without even flinching

Outside of that, he works at the cafe. He wears a mask in order to avoid being recognized even though at his job as a surgeon, he’s usually wearing a medical mask anyways. It’s just a precaution

This has nothing to do with his career but he used to be a tap dancer and actor so he’d join in on local theatre shows! He helped build sets when he wasn’t rehearsing. He doesn’t have time for that anymore (which kinda makes him sadddd) but he has all kinds of theatre playlists on his phone and in his car that he’ll sing along to

Scaramouche/‘Boss’

Scara’s job at the cafe is his main job! His side job is something you may not expect from such a grump

He works at an animal shelter! In fact, he brings cats home to train so they have an increased chance of being adopted. Someone is more likely to adopt a potty trained, socialized cat than a feral cat who doesn’t know what a litter box is. So Scara brings them to his apartment for some one-on-one socializing, training and cuddling

One time he offhandedly mentioned working at an animal shelter while he was working at the cafe and sure enough, three separate customers from the cafe came by to adopt!!! Only one actually took an animal home but he was still surprised that those people had listened to him and cared enough to come by

Scara is a jerk most of the time but when he’s at home…by himself…With a lil kitten sleeping in his lap while he plays games on his PC…Yeah, he softens up a bit

So as you can see, we have a very diverse group working at the cafe! They’ve all learned a lot from each other, come to appreciate each other’s friendship and come to help each other out when one of their coworkers is in need or upset.

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luckysevenwrites · 3 years

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I don’t want to keep things casual

Yuta is off traveling for work, Y/n is keeping busy with their job, and both of them are struggling with being apart from one another. When Yuta calls Y/n and Yuta have a conversation about their relationship and what they want from one another.

Part of the long term couples series

Walking through the house you have recently purchased you scribble down notes of parts of the home you are going to update, walls that are going to be removed, and any other ideas that filter through your mind as you pass each room. You could hear your partner in the front of the house talking to the rest of your team about when they should be here and if they would be working under you or him. Their voices fade as you enter the master bedroom. You loved this room it was the whole reason that you had wanted to buy the house in the first place. It was at the back of the house and had large French doors that led out to a patio.

In your head you were picturing the future owner of this home waking up and walking through those doors and out onto the patio where they would sit in comfy chairs and eat their breakfast while sipping coffee. There would be lazy weekend mornings where they would spend their whole time out there enjoying the beauty of their yard and each other’s company. Your plan was to make the rest of the house feel as calmly as this bedroom and patio made you feel. It was going to be a lot of work the previous owner had not taken care of the place and let a lot slip. You could see the potential in this home and your partner could see it as well. That was why after walking through the home one time the two of you had put an offer in.

This project had come at the perfect time. It was going to require a lot of attention and was the perfect distraction from Yuta. The two of you had agreed on just being friends with benefits. Yet, you found yourself wanting to be around him all the time and wanting to get to know him better and he seemed to be on the same page as you. When he had told you that he was going to be gone for a few weeks you had thought that it would be good for the two of you. It would remind you both that you were supposed to keep things casual. In reality all the separation has done is make you realize how much you want to be with him and miss him.

“Y/n you done with your walk through?” Turning towards the doorway Alex stands there with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes accessing the room before they land on you. “I sent the team home and told them that we would get started tomorrow on everything.”

“Thanks, and I think I have everything down that we need. I might do one more walk through just to make sure we haven’t missed anything. Are you heading out or staying?”

“I got to head out. I promised the boyfriend that we would have date night tonight since I canceled our last one and I can’t miss this one. He might break up with me this time if I cancel.” You laugh at that there was no way that Alex’s boyfriend would break up with him. They loved each other completely and it would take more than a canceled date to break up the two of them.

“Alright, tell Jun hi for me,” you hug Alex and walk with him back to the front of the house.

“I will and he told me to tell you that you are not fooling anyone, and he wants to meet whoever you’re seeing soon,” your mouth drops open at that statement. How in the world did he know that you were seeing someone? You hadn’t told anyone about Yuta and had made sure not to give anything away about you seeing someone.

“Don’t ask how he knows. I’ve learned to stop questioning his skills a long time ago. Just talk to whoever it is and let them know that their time as remaining a mystery is numbered.” Alex bumps his shoulder into yours before heading down the walkway. You watch as he gets into his car and drives off before turning back to the house to do your final walkthrough.

As your writing down some ideas that you have for the kitchen your phone starts to ring. Looking over at it you smile as you see Yuta’s smiling face on the screen, requesting that you facetime with him. Picking up the phone you answer the call and hold it up to your face. In a few seconds you see Yuta’s smiling face, hair fanned out as he lays on his bed. Just looking at him steals your breath away and you are once again reminded how much you have been missing him these past two weeks.

“Hi, did you just get back to your hotel?”

“Hmm,” Yuta nods, “today was busy and I’m going to sleep but I wanted to talk to you and see your face before I did.”

“Ah have you been missing me?” you coo while leaning onto the counter.

“I have a lot actually,” Yuta admits, and you smile back at him.

“I’ve been missing you a lot as well,” the admission comes out easier than you thought it would. You hadn’t planned on telling him that you were missing him but hearing him say it made it easier for you to tell him how you were feeling.

“So much for keeping things casual,” Yuta laughs, and you join him. The two of you were ridiculous for thinking that this was going to be casual and for only realizing now that you’ve spent weeks apart that you don’t want to be without the other.

“I think we were doomed from the start. We should have known from the moment that we had breakfast together that we weren’t going to be able to keep things casual,” thinking back to that morning you remember how you had felt when you saw him in your bed and then taken him to breakfast. You didn’t want your time with him to end and that should have been your first clue that the two of you were never going to be able to keep things casual. There was already so much chemistry between the two of you and the more time the two of you spent together the stronger your connection got.

“It’s your fault if you wouldn’t have shared your breakfast with me, I would have dropped you right then and there,” stresses Yuta, you roll your eyes at that comment.

“No, you wouldn’t of. You have been falling for me from the moment we met!” A blush starts to appear on Yuta’s cheeks, and he looks off to the side avoiding eye contact with you. When he looks back at you, you raise your eyebrows up challenging him to say otherwise.

“Where are you by the way?” Yuta leans up closer to the phone like he is trying to get a better look at your surroundings and effectively changing the subject. “That’s not your place.”

“It’s not I’m at work,” you confirm.

“Work is someone else’s kitchen? Just what is your job?”

“Nope nice try but I’m not telling you anything. If anyone is going to win this bet, it’s going to be me.” You stress.

“Come on you should tell me since I’m the one who admitted first that I miss you and can’t do the casual thing.”

“You didn’t admit that you don’t want to do casual you just admitted to missing me and sucking at keeping things casual,” you point out not wanting to let him win this argument.

“Fine,” Yuta sits up and brings the phone close to his face, looking straight into the phone and locking his eyes with yours Yuta says, “Y/n I miss you all the time and I don’t want to keep things casual between the two of us. I want to be with you all the time. I want to tell my friends that I’m with you. I want to go out on dates with you instead of just holing up in your place with you. I want more. How’s that for an admission?”

Dam you should not have challenged him. How were you supposed to respond to that? You were not expecting him to just lay it all out like that.

“Um it was pretty good,” you stutter, “but I’m still not telling you what my job is.”

Throwing his head back Yuta laughs. You could watch him laugh forever you think, and you find yourself bringing the phone closer to you just to enjoy his face and laughter more.

“Alright I’ll let it go for now. But I’m going to figure it out eventually. Especially since we aren’t keeping things casual anymore you can’t hide it from me forever.”

“You can’t keep yours hidden forever anymore either! If we are really going to do this, I’m going to find out your job as well. And we can’t have secret between us anymore. Relationships are a completely different thing from hook ups.” You inform him wanting Yuta to know that if you two are really going to move from casual to an actual relationship that things are going to be different.

“Oh, don’t worry Y/n I know that things will be different. I’m counting on it,” there’s a glint in Yuta’s eyes and you are starting to wonder what you have gotten yourself into.

“Guess we’ll see who figures it out first,” you tell him not wanting to give in and enjoying the silly game the two of you are playing.

“I guess we will! I should probably get going. I have another busy day ahead of me,” Yuta frowns and you understand how he feels. You don’t want to end the call either.

“How much longer are you going to be gone?” You ask.

“Two more weeks and then when I get back, I’m taking you out on an actual date,” you smile widely at that. An actual date with Yuta you couldn’t wait.

“Hurry back then,” Yuta nods and right before the two of you end the call you remember what Alex told you and you get a wicked idea, “oh and before I forget you have to meet two of my friends, they already know about us!”

“What?” Yuta practically shouts, his eyes wide. You laugh as you give him a wave goodbye and end the call. Laying your phone down you smile at it as you think over the conversation that the two of you had.

When you answered the call, you had figured it would just be the two of you flirting with one another and making plans to get together when he returned. You did not think that it would lead to the two of you admitting that you miss one another and want more. You definitely did not think that it would lead to Yuta telling you that he wants an actual relationship with you and then him telling you that when he returns, he would be taking you out on an actual date. Your phone pings and you see a message from Yuta.

Yuta: If I have to meet your friends you have to meet mine. They were onto me weeks ago

Laughing you reply to Yuta and shake your head at yourself. How the two of you thought you could ever do casual was beyond you. You were both clearly bad at it, from hiding it from others, to keeping your feeling in check it was a failure a wonderful failure.

@readers-posts

#nct 127 imagines #nct 127 reactions #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 oneshots #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 fanfic #yuta x you #yuta x reader #yuta x y/n #yuta fluff #yuta imagines #yuta reactions #yuta scenarios #yuta oneshot #yuta drabbles #yuta fanfic

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itsmaddienotmaddy · 3 years

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Okay my ass passed tf out post game. But I just woke up again and can’t NOT put my lukewarm takes on the Internet.

USWNT v SWEDEN

Alyssa - did what she could? I’m sure she expected plenty of shots on goal because Sweden has proven to always be a solid opponent but I don’t think she was ready to be called upon all game. But there wasn’t a time where I was like ‘dang, maybe if Alyssa was a better keeper, we wouldn’t be down’. She was fine.

Becky - I find her hard pressed to say anyone did well, but all things considered, Becky was okay. She was carrying the ball forward more than usual, seemingly holding onto it a bit too long sometimes. But no one was really open for her, so what tf was she supposed to do.

Crystal - thank sweet baby Jesus for her recovery runs and slide tackles. I would not like to know what a score line would be without them. She unfortunately was super overloaded which caused a lot of uncharacteristic giveaway passes in dangerous spots. To her credit, she showed a lot of creativity breaking out of the three players that seemed to close in on her. But our midfield and forwards really hung her out to dry not offering outlets for her to pass to.

Abby - this was a tough game for Abby. She was getting caught on the outside shoulder instead of covering inside and allowed the center backs to be split on numerous occasions. She did have a few of her typical nice diagonal long balls. But really seemed frantic and was beat to the ball in the box on the goals.

Kelley - in the same camp as Becky. Of nothing detrimental. But nothing incredible. She wasn’t given the same amount of pressure as Crystal which made things better. But her passes could have been cleaner, crosses could have been more direct.

Tierna - things were pretty dismal by the time she came in. She did decent for the time left though. Not sure it would have helped anything but her height definitely could have beneficial to us as a center back earlier in the game.

Lindsey - not her day as the 6. She managed it well through the summer series and send off games, but Sweden is so different than the teams they played. She got lost. She was so needed to be Crystals outlet and to be that person that helped move the ball from side to side to break Sweden down. She was almost timid, it was weird. She started doing a bit better when she was back in her normal position. But the team was already back on their heels at that point so it didn’t help.

Rose - well god dammit. Rose was out there trying! It wasn’t working, but you could tell that she was not having it and was trying to make something happen. She was key in the passing combos the US managed to string together. Most glimmers of good came with her involvement. She still fell victim to holding the ball too long and passing directly to Sweden but I did appreciate her effort!

Sam - oh goodness, poor Sammy Bananas. This was not her game. She seemed like she was hiding behind Swedish players. She wasn’t open for anyone to pass to. And when she had the ball, more often than not, she was passing it to Sweden. It was hard to watch after she’s been playing so well. I will give a small positive that on a couple plays, she found her stride and did what she does best, driving the ball up centrally, pulling defenders, and passing out wide for a cross in. She needed off at half though, glad Vlatko pulled her.

Julie - well shit balls I really wish she was 100%. Her being in wasn’t a game changer. I mean, duh they still scored twice in the second half. But there were moments I was like, oh yeah. That’s what it’s like to have Julie Ertz playing the 6. That’s nice. She is far from full game fit though, and you could tell she’s nervous going 150% into hard tackles. And with being out for all the buildup games, her chemistry with everyone is a little off.

Kristie - she wasn’t in long. But she’s was running her butt off. Like Tierna, it’s not like she could do much to help. She didn’t do anything to hurt though. Her energy was good to see, who knows if her coming in earlier could have sparked something. (Probably not but it’s fun to dream)

Alex - welp. She was in there. Few decent runs into the box. Was there for the header off Christen’s beautiful first half cross. But very lost, not connecting, I had no issue with. Vlatko pulling her at half for Carli.

Tobin - after the excitement of her return in the Mexico games, it sucked to see her like this. To her credit, she was all over the damn pitch trying to make things happen. But in doing so, was out of position which didn’t make switching the field easier. Sweden had to time for her foot skills and just bodied her off of things. She had some of our most promising offensive plays though. And history has proven that pissing Tobin off means she is going to pop off. Waiting for that!

Christen - the goal post is not her friend. So rude. She also gave us some of our closest goal opportunities. But dang. She needed to be helping Crystal on defense big time. And she needed to provide a better outlet pass and not just the option of a ball over the top. I honestly forgot she was out there sometimes which was uncharacteristic.

Carli - I was actually happy to see her come in. But she couldn’t break the funk the team was in. I’m sure a game like this will make her work harder, so maybe that’s good. I don’t know.

Pinoe - came in with a little spark. She was a positive sub. But we were such a mess at that point it didn’t do much. I wish she was full ninety fit, we needed her chaos.

All in all. We all watched the mess. We know. They were outplayed. Sweden is fucking GOOD. We just played them, it wasn’t a surprise. At least, it shouldn’t have been. Maybe it’s the Sweden Olympic curse. Maybe it’s because the USWNT has been go go go all year and has run themselves a little ragged with the camps and friendlies along with NWSL. Doesn’t matter. They knew the Olympics were coming. They weren’t good enough and I hope they turn it around.

Hopefully next game we can remember what jerseys we’re wearing so we can pass to the right team and everyone gets a good night sleep so we can LOOK ALIVE OUT THERE.

#uswnt #alyssa naeher #becky sauerbrunn #abby dahlkemper #crystal dunn #kelley o'hara #tierna davidson #lindsey horan #sam mewis #kristie mewis #rose lavelle #julie ertz #alex morgan #tobin heath #christen press #carli lloyd #megan rapinoe

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 4 years

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Seen ✓ - 2

Pairing: Sam x Fem!Reader Warnings: light anxiety Word Count: 2.2k Series Summary: On her way home, Y/n finds an abandoned, cracked phone on the sidewalk. Anxious about the well-being of its owner, she picks it up and texts the first contact she finds; Sam. A/N: Chapter 2! Our pals are kicking it off already. Can you smell the chemistry? The rOMANCE? LESSGO

Pictures used in this chapter were found on google images :)

Beta: no one.

Catch up! : Part 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2: overthinker.

From: y/n_andrews85 To: D_impala67 Subject: I have your phone. That sounds creepy. I don’t think there’s a non-creepy way of writing this. Whatever.

Dear Dean, is it?

I just wanted to let you know I found your phone at the bus stop the other night. I wasn’t planning on holding on to it, really, but I got worried that you may have been in trouble, and then you never really looked for it either so, I don’t know, I figured better than someone who’ll snatch it and leave, you know?

Anyways, that’s why I’m emailing. I snooped through it a little, sorry, hopefully you’ll understand it was kinda necessary? Maybe we can arrange something so I can get it back to you. This girl, Jamie, keeps sending me (well you technically) topless photos of her. It’s not really what lights my candle. I’m assuming you’d like it back too.

I hope you’re safe. Looking forward to hearing back from you!

Y/n Andrews

Do you believe me now?

oh god

you didn’t

Sure did

wow. just wow.

you just handed his ass back to him holy shit!

last time he called, he said he dropped his phone while walking back to his motel, so

he’s okay.

That’s good, I’m glad he’s safe.

I was planning on including something along the lines of “This would’ve been easier if you were an active member of the 21st century and used social media”

But I figured the Jamie thing was motive enough?

yeah. topless Jamie? that’s something else.

Don’t be getting any ideas, dude, I don’t do nudes lmao.

oh god, no i didn’t think that

you did not just type lmao though. how old are you again?

oh god, you’re not 14 or something right? i don’t know what that would make me.

Don’t worry about it, I turned 16 last week.

…

are you serious?

Lmao, no, I’m kidding. I’m twenty-two.

But I think the word you’re looking for is a creep. Oh, and an ageist.

ouch.

Haha, I’m joking.

Lighten up, what are you, ninety?

hi pot meet kettle.

Shit I walked right into that one.

also i’d like to think i don’t text like a ninety-year-old man. could be wrong though

to answer your question i’m twenty-four.

Twenty-four huh? I assume you’re done with college, no?

Or- wait, I guess not everyone goes to college.

Yes, this is me fishing for information.

well… i kinda dropped out.

decided to go on a road trip with my brother.

things went a little south I ended up continuing the family business.

Damn, college drop-out ey? Where from?

Also, Family business? What do you do?

Is this too interview-y? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to snoop.

you’re good.

stanford. pre-law.

and my brother and i are private investigators. that’s why he’s not in Kansas with me. he’s working a case.

Daaaaamn. Stanford AND a lawyer? And now working as a PI? You’re pretty smart, then.

an ageist and a generalist? i didn’t take you for such y/n.

Fuck, okay, you sound like a lawyer too.

hahahah

so what about you?

What about me?

are you in college?

Oh yeah! Film school. My dream has always been to be a director. It’s rare to find someone who loves movies more than I do.

that’s really cool.

hey i’ve been meaning to ask.

Thinking of me, Sam?

…

Do tell.

how come you were walking home through a park in the middle of the night the other day?

Ooh, I was coming back from work.

I’m a bartender and I had a late shift on Friday.

oh I see. That makes sense yeah.

I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, but I’m legitimately three seconds away from falling asleep. I’m gonna hit the hay.

See you later, Sam :)

See you, y/n :)

A smile creeps on Y/n’s features at the thought of more conversations with Sam. He has given her something to look forward to, something to make her a little more excited during her boring every-day life. As she tucks herself in under her covers, eyelids heavy enough to droop involuntarily, the last thing she thinks of is him, the clever, sassy, twenty-four year old college dropout on the other side of the cracked phone screen. The overwhelming urge to get to know him overtakes her as she succumbs to sleep

Do you believe in ghosts?

that’s… random.

May be

why do you ask?

Idk, just wanna get to know you better.

that’s what you ask people you want to get to know better?

Yes?

Are you avoiding the question?

i do. believe in ghosts.

You?

So do i.

Well, sorta. I guess I believe in souls more than anything.

hm?

Well… I guess I hope (more than believe) that we are more than our corporeal selves.

In the sense that, it’s comforting to me that when we die, and our bodies stop working, we don’t evaporate.

I guess.

yeah I understand.

i don’t know. i guess i wanna believe in science more than anything but i know better.

How do you mean?

call it a hunch.

Oh c’mon, it’s gotta be more than that.

Sam…?

Y/n huffs out a breath, gnawing at her lip. She hopes her anxiety isn’t right, that Sam isn’t sick of her silly questions and existential dread, and is actually doing something. Perhaps his battery ran out.

...Sure.

She was doing something too, before she decided to text him. Eyes falling on all her books and notes, spread around her like ugly, depressing, anxiety-inducing flower petals. There’s a blanket over her legs, chilly fall weather seeping through her bones, and there’s a half empty pizza box in front of her. She’s full and the left overs are kept for her sister, Emily, who’s currently locked up in her room.

Damn it. Y/n is stressed and tired, and now her distraction is refusing to reply. This sucks. She hates the crawling, awful, gooey feeling of cold anxiety gripping every beat of her heart and stupidly convincing her he’s purposefully ghosting her, because he doesn’t like her.

Not knowing what to occupy herself with, she heads to take a shower. In the back of her head, she knows that she’ll probably not study any longer, so she takes it upon herself to sink under the hot water and wash thoroughly, trying to get her mind off Dean’s phone. When her feet step out of the shower and she has towel-dried herself as best as she can, she tosses her wet hair in a haphazard bun, and gets dressed.

Books stack under the rickety, stained coffee table, and she grabs her sketchbook, her favorite pencil, as well as her and Dean’s phone. She shoots Connor a text, arranging a hang out of some kind, and opens her little booklet, when a text vibrates Dean’s phone.

hey i’m sorry i got caught up in something.

It’s alright.

She doesn’t press the ghost subject, because he doesn’t seem into it and she really doesn’t wanna make him dislike her any more than he possibly already does.

The empty page of her sketchbook daunts her. With a tight grip on her mechanical pencil, she urges her creativity pumps to use some gasoline, but they seem limp and dead, and once more unwilling to help her. As her eyes fall on Dean’s phone, like a light bulb out of a cartoon, she gets an idea.

Hey, this might sound creepy, but what do you look like?

She stares at the phone. This feels like a risky question. God, if he wasn’t done with her before, he certainly must be now. But then, he surprises her.

why do you wanna know?

I’m in the mood to sketch some, and my creativity has officially left the building.

Care to help a girl out? Maybe your literary descriptions will spark something in me lmao.

i didn’t know you sketched.

Yeah, sometimes. Nothing great though, I promise. I’m certainly no Picasso.

i mean you don’t have to be picasso to sketch well. and you don’t have to sketch well to sketch at all.

Yeah, may be.

I don’t wanna pressure you into anything, you really don’t have to humor me.

If you do feel like it though, don’t send me a picture. Kinda wanna spark some life into my brain cells.

haha i will. only if you show me the finished product tho.

You’ve got yourself a deal :)

She simply cannot believe he has just agreed to this. Her breath is caught in her throat.

so.

what do you want me to start with?

Just whatever. Idk, tell me about your face.

well

i have brown curly-ish hair that reaches my ears. uh, my eyes are hazel.

Okay, that’s a start.

What’s your nose like?

it’s a bit pointy. thin i think?

Jawline?

sharp? i guess?

this is by far the weirdest thing i’ve done.

Lmao, yeah, this is pretty weird.

Exciting though.

She shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, that is definitely overeager.

yeah it is.

Her stomach feels floaty at his response.

Eyebrows?

normal?

How do you classify “normal” eyebrows, exactly?

i don’t know? they’re simple i guess.

Are you implying complicated eyebrows exist out there?

…

Elaborate, Sam. Are you shy? Do you not have eyebrows? Are they bushy? Or too thin? Or pointy?

i’m telling you they’re average.

Sam

what

You officially suck at this.

oh fuck off how would you describe yours?

Y/n proceeds to write a cohesive sentence that includes adjectives apart from “normal” and “average”. Words like bushy, thin, arched and curvy.

well shit yeah i guess i do suck at this.

i think it’s not a skill i mind not having.

That… is a confusing sentence.

just… draw them however. what difference can eyebrows make?

Oh you have no idea.

Okay, last thing.

Do you have a fringe?

yeah but not for long. i’ll probably let it grow out.

Okay, I can do something with that. Thanks :)

no problem

Her creativity is finally servicing her according to her commands, and Y/n puts pen to paper and scribbles messily. Line after line, they curl and sit on the page, forming a smile with thin lips, a sharp jaw, a pointy nose. She has to guess the eyebrows a bit, and the eyes are more cartoonish and generic than she likes. In the end, she gets anxious at the prospect of having to show him, and gives him a hood, so she won’t fuck up the hair.

Okay, I’m done.

that was quick, actually.

Well I didn’t have much to go on.

Sam doesn’t reply. She worries he might have misinterpreted her teasing tone.

Gimme a sec, I’ll send it over.

Ugh, Dean’s camera is such shit. Do you mind if I send it from my phone?

no go ahead.

[Y/n has sent a picture]

As you said, it didn’t take long. It’s really not the best.

that…

is actually not too far from the truth

it kind of looks like me from two years ago

wow, really?

yeah.

and it’s honestly a pretty good sketch. good job.

Thank you :)

Sam doesn’t say anything after this, and she huffs. Her head falls back on the couch, and she stares at the ceiling. She should go to bed soon, it’s getting late.

isn’t this strange?

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit oh shit, she thinks. He’s regretting this. He doesn’t like her. He’ll stop talking to her and that’ll be it.

Why does she care so much? It’s a thought that passes through her mind. It hasn’t been long since they started talking and, after the near-kidnapping encounter, they’ve been having nearly daily conversations, but that still doesn’t mean much. She knows barely anything about him.

She guesses, she wants to get to know him better. He seems like the type of guy she’d enjoy hanging out with and she has so far. Stopping any kind of conversation would surely feel like a loss. She’d have to go back to her boring routine. This is the most exciting thing she has allowed herself to do in years.

A part of her feels rather lame for finding such a thrill at something so trivial. She’s talking to a stranger, and that’s all it is, but the prospect that he could be anyone at all, and she’s never even seen his face… well… It feels refreshing, new. Scary in an adrenaline-rush kind of way.

What is?

us. texting.

isn’t it a little odd?

I guess it is a bit.

I mean we’ve only known each other for, what, a week? And a half?

yeah.

should we stop?

I don’t know

Do you want to?

The extra moment his reply takes to arrive makes her want to vomit.

Then there’s your answer.

okay then

can I save you in my contacts?

Sure, go ahead.

I just did too.

alright.

Okay :)

I’m sorry, I have to go.

I guess I’ll text you later, Sam.

Go be whoever Sam Something is.

it’s winchester.

Like the shotgun?

yup.

That’s BADASS. Can you even get more badass than this? Pre-law, now a PI, and you’re named after a shotgun? Damn dude.

Well, it’s nice to meet you Sam. I’m Y/n Andrews.

Haha thanks.

nice to meet you, too

goodnight Y/n Andrews.

Night Sam Winchester :)

--- Part 3

A/N: Thoughts? How are you liking the newer version of this? right after I post it, I’m gonna delete the other one.

Taglist:

Old Can You See The Stars taglist: @shutupiminlooove @sammysgirl1997 @kymberlytorres @bambi95-blog @demonic-meatball @thekarliwinchester @littlekay15 @li-m-ii @thinspo-isuppose @carryonmywaywarddemigodwitch @ellen-reincarnated1967 @moonlitskinwalker @marichromatic @illuminatus42 @lazy-author @mirandaaustin93 @hauntedsiriel @pilaxia @devilgirlsarah @nobodys-baby-now @captiveties @calamitychaos @midiocris @wordswillscream

Sam taglist @kymberlytorres @theboykingsam @depressed-moose-78 @andi-mendes-barnes @captainmarvelcorps @nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away @nellachain

#sam x reader #sam x fem!reader #sam x reader series #sam x reader fluff #sam x reader angst #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x fem!reader #sam winchester x reader series #sam winchestr fluff #sam fluff #spn #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #seen 2 #seen

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imaginesfora3 · 4 years

Text

It’s About the DRAMA [Sumeragi Tenma]

(Another commission by an awesome person who is endlessly patient with me! There’s a second part that has smut in it that I’ll be posting at a later date. Please enjoy! And if anyone would like to commission me, please message me over tumblr so I can give you my details~)

After the spring plays production, you thought it would be smooth sailing when it came time for the summer troupes.

You had managed to gather enough people, all of who had interesting characters, but you’d dealt with that before, right? Part of being a director was overcoming the challenges and obstacles that were presented even if you never knew exactly what would be thrown your way. You were eager to help these young actors learn how to grow, to see them on stage with your own eyes after you watched them put their blood, sweat, and tears into practice. At least, you felt that way about every single one of them aside from their leader, the one who had the most acting experience and who you thought would have an easier time.

You and Tenma hadn’t exactly started off on the wrong foot but it was made apparent to him from the beginning that you weren’t one to be trifled with, quickly shutting down anything rude or demeaning he had to say to his fellow troupe members. Tenma had never worked alongside someone like you as most others were just used to putting up with his attitude and accepting him for who he was but you had no intentions of doing so. You called him out, you criticized when necessary, you proved every day that you were seeing him as he wanted to be seen, not movie star Sumeragi Tenma but newbie to the stage Sumeragi Tenma. As much as he felt like you put your foot down on his actions more so than any of the others in the troupe it made him crave your praise knowing it would be genuine and not just because of his reputation.

Tenma wanted to do good.

He wanted to impress you.

But why did it seem so damn hard to do?

“We need to talk.” Tenma cringed at your tone of voice, immediately feeling like a child who was about to be scolded by their mother. His own mother had hardly taken that tone with him as she wasn’t in his daily life often enough to do so but he’d heard it from the TV moms who he acted alongside. He bit his lip to keep himself from showing his discontent verbally, simply nodding his head and following you out of the room where the rest of the summer troupe were practicing.

“Tenma…” He already knew what you were about to say from the mildly annoyed look on your face and the way your arms were crossed, but that’s not all that was there. There was concern, too, some worry that perhaps maybe Tenma wasn’t suited for the stage life after all and that set him off.

“If they don’t listen to the advice I give then what’s the point!” He threw his hands up, trying to keep his voice even but knowing the two of you were likely being eavesdropped on anyway. “I don’t think they’re completely unredeemable but…!”

“Have you considered changing the tone of your voice when you’re delivering your advice? Or even thinking about the way they perceive it when you’re barking orders at them? Tenma, you’ve got talent and you’ve got plenty of potential, no one is doubting that. But you have to realize you’re part of a team now. Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own?”

Because he’d always done things alone. He’d been independent since he was young, he had to be as he was left to his own devices and then when his own acting career began, he was thrown into a world of adults that forced him to grow up quicker than he’d like. He mimicked the way the others around him talked, the way they treated each other, and he’d never been reprimanded by anyone the same way that you were. He can tell that it’s not out of anger, that it’s not that you have something against him personally, but that he’s holding himself back by not allowing himself to make connections with everyone he’s acting alongside including you.

“Sometimes they might not understand how important your words are or they think you’re just looking down on them when you’re not, and when that happens, I’ll be there to support you Tenma.” He’s all too aware of the hand you’re putting on his shoulder now but he makes the extra effort to keep looking into your eyes, though he can’t say that calms him down. All he can think about is how he’d never had someone clash with him like this before, how he’d never had someone willing to tell him what he needed to hear rather than what he wanted to. To have you not only want to do that for him but also acknowledging his talent, saying that you wanted him to stay as summer troupes leader, it spoke volumes. “Now stop acting like a spoiled brat and go be a leader!”

Tenma scoffed at your clear teasing, thinking about how cute the mischievous smile on your face looked right now, “Yeah, yeah. Takes one to know one.”

Tenma returned to practice that night a new man, willing to listen to the other troupe members and learn how to help them on an individual level. He found that they were people with passions much like him, people who loved acting and wanted to throw themselves in, and he found himself a little proud that, when he actually opened his eyes and stopped being so angry for no reason, he found they appreciated his acting skills more than he’d first realized. He knows he never would’ve changed if he hadn’t met you, if you hadn’t been the person who was willing to stand up to him, and for that he’s forever grateful. The words you said to him that day, that you’ll be standing behind him when he needed you, meant more than anything.

Tenma just didn’t realize how far down the rabbit hole he’d gone.

The summer troupe didn’t find many moments to rest as they were on an advanced schedule as it was, trying to pack practice into just about every spare moment they had. But you’d scolded them more than once on pushing pi too far, Tenma included, which is why this little movie night had been thrown together. Tenma figured it could be a teaching moment even if it was technically downtime, knowing a few tips and tricks that could be translated over into stage acting when they popped up; he’s actually happy that even Yuki agreed to sit down with the rest of them, perhaps he’d even be able to teach him a thing or two and get some praise from you for a job well done.

The movie was your standard romantic comedy but the dynamics of the characters had always been interesting, and he found the others were picking out bits and pieces that they identified with. The movie and acting talk had Tenma opening his mouth more than usual, explaining how certain scenes were acted out and what might’ve been going through the actors head while said scene was going on; it was a lot different than acting on stage but the groundwork is what helped Tenma flourish, so hopefully he could translate the same thing to his team. Things got quieter when the more romantic bits popped up with everyone watching quietly, waiting for the scene’s end to chatter about the chemistry between the two characters on screen.

“…Doesn’t that remind you a bit of something?” Yuki piped up, glancing at Tenma from the corner of his eye but looking away when Tenma turned to him with an annoyed expression. Was he trying to call him out on something?

“You’re totally right!” Kazunari laughed, turning back to grin up at Tenma. “Man, it’s just like you and…!”

“Don’t say it!” Tenma growled out, already knowing where this was heading and wanting to cut it off before it went too far. He’d already been teased relentlessly and called a whipped dog by Yuki for how often he tried to avoid arguments with you now, he didn’t need to add more fuel to the fire by having to defend himself from these accusations. Plus, why was it any of their business if he felt some type of way about you? Clearly things wouldn’t work out considering you were older than him and probably not interested in some kid but… He was getting too far into his head now, a blush rising to his cheeks as the possibility of getting to be your boyfriend flashed before his eyes. This was not going to go the way he wanted it to.

“Sorry Tenten! You’re very obvi about it, you know? I can’t blame you~”

“I’m getting a drink,” Yuki suddenly announced as he stood up from the couch, “I’ll be back.”

Without the main instigator there to start another fight about Tenma’s unspoken feelings he finds himself relaxing as Kazunari’s attention is turned to Misumi, who was changing positions rapidly to find the most comfortable way to lay on the ground. He watched with minor amusement even if he pretended to be annoyed with their antics, knowing he cared about them all far more than he wanted to let on. Perhaps Kazunari did have a point, maybe his feelings for you were really obvious, but again he wonders if that even matters. If he confessed to you right now what would you say? Would you be shocked to hear it or would you nod as though you’d known all along? He disliked getting caught in fantasy situations but this is one that had plagued his thoughts while he was curled up in bed at night, and with no one to shake him from them, it invaded his mind now, too.

A few minutes pass before Yuki returns with his juice in hand.

“You took a while,” Tenma grumbled, “We want to finish this movie tonight.”

“Sorry, I was busy talking with the director. She was getting herself something to eat.”

Tenma doesn’t recognize he’s being baited at all because his thoughts are still almost solely on you, about you, and he realized that he missed you. It had been a few hours since he’d last seen you at dinner but he could spend all day by your side without getting tired of you, in fact, he’d prefer to do that. He gets antsy in his seat as he doesn’t want to pause the movie yet again but what if you were in there still? He could casually chat with you, see how you feel about how everyone’s coming along, ask if you’re starting to appreciate what a great leader he is for his troupe…

“I-I’m kinda thirsty. Just keep watching without me, I’ll be back.”

“…Why didn’t you just ask me when I went in there a second ago?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t get me anything, brat.”

A fair point but a smirk found its way to Yuki’s face and he kept his mouth shut for the time being despite the variety of snarky comments that wanted to spill out. This fight was better saved for later tonight when the two were alone in their room as Kazunari and Misumi continued to be distracting. Tenma returned from the kitchen a few moments later without a drink and looking rather sullen, refusing to meet Yuki’s eye even as the boy verbally snickered at his downtrodden expression.

“Where’s your drink?” Kazunari asked innocently, head tilted so he could look back at Tenma.

“Nothing I wanted to drink in there. Shut up and pay attention to the movie.”

Tenma was in a sour mood the rest of the night and felt incredibly grateful when it was time for bed, ready to be done with reality and get lost in the dram world where things were exactly as they should be. It was unfortunate for him that Yuki was his roommate as there was no such thing as peace for him. No safe retreat for him to curl up in and think about all the things that he wished could come true, to think about your happy face after he performed perfectly in this play, maybe you’d even give him a kiss on the cheek as congratulations for being so successful-

“I finally figured out why a hack like you chose to stay with a group like Mankai.” Tenma knew it was going to be the start of another fight but his emotions got the better of him as they always did and he whipped his head over to glare at his younger roommate who was still casually getting ready for bed. “I didn’t know cougars were your type.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“This is exactly why you’re a hack, hack! You can’t even hide your feelings for her. Going into the kitchen right after I said she was in there… You really thought that was true?” Yuki scoffed as he made his way into his own bed. “Whatever… There’s no point in arguing with someone as deep in denial as you. Not like you have a chance anyway. Goodnight.”

Tenma wanted to argue but his heart ached at the truth in Yuki’s words, his mouth hanging open even as the lights in the room were turned off and Yuki’s breathing evened out. He wanted to argue until he was blue in the face that he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, that being around you definitely wasn’t the highlight of his day, and that having you as his director was certainly not one of the best things that had ever happened to him. But how could he fight against the truth? The worst part was he was painfully aware of how he felt, of how much his daydreams helped him get through each new day where you weren’t his, of how fruitless this situation felt due to all the differences that divided you. The heart wants what the heart wants is a saying that now plagued him daily.

The next day only proved to be worse.

Hearing that his father had found out all about his joining the Mankai Company left him in a worse mood than usual, and he had no intentions of backing down. He’d worked so hard, he’d started to bond with you and the members, and despite the short amount of time he’d spent around all of you he didn’t want to imagine a life without Mankai in it. His words were confident as he told everyone in the troupe that he’d convince his father one way or the other but in reality, he knew his father was as stubborn as he was when it came down to it. There might be some drastic measures Tenma had to make to get his point across but he couldn’t leave you like this. He couldn’t make you scramble to find someone without even half the talent he had.

It went better than expected.

When he’d stormed back to the house later that night he hadn’t expected to see you waiting up for him and he internally panicked, not wanting you to see the new black eye he was sporting. He and his father had gotten into it, the fighting becoming so passionate even his mother couldn’t separate them. The punch had shocked him to his very core but he didn’t let it deter him, still determined to not let his hard work all be for nothing. Tenma had walked out of that house with his father cursing at him, perhaps even hoping Tenma would fail just to prove a point, but he tried not to let that get to him. He got to go home back to you and that was enough to keep his body moving despite how exhausted he was.

“Tenma!” Your eyes widened as they immediately found the wound on his face, “What happened with your dad?!”

“He punched me. Hard.”

“I can tell, thanks!” You grabbed ahold of his arm and pulled him into the kitchen, settling him down into a seat as you listened to the rest of his story while looking for the first aid kit. He didn’t think it was a big deal at all but you seemed incredibly worried about him, fretting over his well-being while cursing his dad under your breath. Tenma had nearly laughed when he heard you mention something along the lines of ‘I’ll punch him in the face and see how he likes it’ but he worked hard to keep a straight face, finding that extra hard to do once you were seated in front of him and scanning his face again.

Tenma felt like his heart might beat right out of his chest with how closely you’re scrutinizing him, an odd weight settling itself on his chest after all that had just happened. His father’s physical punch hadn’t hurt nearly as much as the emotional impact it had on him, the only thing able to distract him from that pain right now being you. You were doting over every little bruise and cut on his face, fingers brushing against his skin. His heart fluttered hard in his chest and he tried not to show his discomfort on his face as the feelings you were bubbling closer to the surface. Every touch sent electricity through his veins and finally, finally, it became far too much for him to handle.

“I’m not a kid, I can take care of myself!” He insisted, pushing your hands away and refusing to look at your face; he knew you’d be giving him a disapproving glare for his outburst when he’d let you dote over him for this long.

“If you’re not a kid why are you acting so damn childish, Tenma? What are you trying to prove here?”

He wanted to prove that he was a man, that he was strong and that he could take care of himself. Who would want a boyfriend who couldn’t say those things? Who would want a boyfriend with so many familial issues he was actually so touch-starved that even the simplest of your touches nearly brought him to tears? He bit down on his lip hard and you could see all that he was going through, the pain on his face translating over quite well. You wanted to continue what you were doing but there was no point in pushing Tenma’s boundaries more, not when you’d already made so much progress with him. You sighed in defeat but reached over to grab the ice pack from the fridge, brushing his hair out of the way and placing it on his cheek where the punch had landed.

“Just put the ice on your face and be quiet,” Your tone is one that tells Tenma you have no intention of backing down no matter how much he rejects your care and he can’t tell if you’re doing this out of obligation or genuine worry for him. He knows which option he wants more than anything but denied that you’d ever feel such a way about him, also denying his own disappointment that he already saw you as being unreachable. He’d never felt so close yet so far from a person before in his life but everything about you seemed to keep him drawn in, refusing to let his heart move on.

Time healed all wounds, didn’t it?

In the end, Tenma hoped that these unwelcome feelings would make themselves scarce, that perhaps it was just a puppy love that would fade away with time.

He didn’t realize how wrong he was.

#Sumeragi Tenma #Tenma Sumeragi #A3 #A3 Imagines #Act #A3 x Reader #A3! x Reader #A3!#A3! Imagines #Sumeragi Tenma x Reader #Tenma Sumeragi x Reader #Commission #Scenario

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wellhellsbelles · 3 years

Note

would you like to ever do a riarkle enemies to lovers fic? because i've seen only like 2 enemies to lovers riarkle fics and i think it'd be really cool to see them in a different dynamic

oh WOULD I

yes i would and i loved every minute of writing this. it’s based VERY LOOSELY on my experience as a hostess in the popular chain italian restaurant we all know and love

anyway, enjoy!!

ao3 link or read below

Riley doesn’t intend on making any enemies when she starts working at the restaurant.

It just sort of . . . happens.

She’d like to think she has the supposed “Big Five” personality traits on lockdown—she’s a very agreeable person, incredibly open with others, positively extroverted, astute in conscientiousness, and her neuroticism . . .

Well, she could maybe stand to work on it a bit, but can she be calm? Absolutely.

There’s just something about Farkle Minkus that makes her want to drive a spork into her leg, though.

It’s a weird sort of dichotomy they form together, despite not being too different from one another. They hold the same sort of power in the restaurant—she’s a host, he’s a busser, and they both get paid minimum wage. While she guides the guests around the restaurant, he cleans up tables and spills, and there should be no reason for the animosity that they harbor for another.

If you ask Riley, she’d chalk it up to her first busy night at the restaurant. The night had bogged her down as she ran around the restaurant, seating guests and refilling anything they needed if she happened to be passing by them. At one point, she’d been asked to help bus tables—something she knew she’d be awful at—and he’d strolled up to her while she was trying to pick up plates, taking them from her grasp forcefully.

“Look, if you’re going to help, then actually do something useful. You’re moving about as slow as a turtle and it’s infuriating,” he had grumbled to her. “Why don’t you go be a good host and greet people with a fake smile and annoying personality?”

Yeah, that’d cinch the nail in the coffin for anyone, she assumes.

How dare he say she had an annoying personality! She was a freakin’ charm to have around, and most of the people working at the restaurant already got along with her. Why was it so hard for him to accept that fact?

Riley didn’t wish to dwell on it, so she didn’t. But she did make enemies with Farkle that night, point blank.

“Hey Minkus, mind bussing those tables I asked you to bus twenty minutes ago?” Riley calls into the headset. She’d been fed up with another busy night, and Farkle’s attitude was not cutting it for her. She nearly startled when he rounded the corner, though, his permanent look of disdain greeting her.

“You know, bussers don’t just clean tables. In fact, they actually have to listen when managers ask them to do other tasks around the restaurant,” he says, adjusting the sleeves of his black button-up that he had pushed up his forearms.

“And you know I need tables, yeah? We’re on a wait,” Riley argues back. He gives her one last glare before disappearing back into the dining rooms, and Riley hears someone whistle behind her back.

“You know you egg him on just as much as he does you, right?” Maya, one of the servers who’s quickly become her best friend at the restaurant, tells her, leaning against the host stand. Riley shakes her head.

“Not true. He started it, anyway!”

“And you can’t let bygones be bygones?”

“Why on earth should I do that?” Riley asks, incredulous. Maya shrugs.

“I dunno. Besides the fact that the two of you have undeniable chemistry? Or similar personalities? Or the same friend groups around here?”

“What do you mean ‘undeniable chemistry’? We hate each other!” Riley exclaims.

“We often harbor love under the guise of hatred,” Maya states, earning her a disgusted expression from Riley.

“Don’t you have tables to serve?”

“After your boyfriend cleans them up, yeah.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!!” Riley shouts after her friend as she leaves, the sound of chuckling fading off around the corner.

“So Zay calls out and you’re the only person who can fill his role as a host tonight?” Riley asks Farkle, exasperated. It’s a little strange to see him sans apron, standing at the host stand like he’s the same level as her.

He’s not.

“Imagine, being ungrateful that someone was able to pick up his shift so you wouldn’t be on your own. Are you always this disagreeable in the morning or is that just how you are normally?” he counters.

Riley moves to continue their argument, but guests wander up to the host stand, so she drops it for the sake of doing the job she’s being paid for. She insists on seating them in the system and then guiding them to their table, sure that Farkle will mess it up somehow. When she returns, he’s got a smug grin on his face that causes her blood to boil.

“What’s the face for?” she prods.

“Well, if I didn’t have one it’d be quite disturbing, frankly,” he snarks back. Riley would throw things at him, if she didn’t have to keep her cool for the sake of the job.

“What’s the face for?” she tries again, this time more forcefully.

“I like that you won’t let me do anything. I could make your job ten times easier by seating tables for you, but you insist on taking care of everything. Are you really that stubborn?”

“Kettle meet pot,” she huffs, turning away from him with arms crossed and nose stuck high in the air. He simply laughs and the two of them return to silence soon after, refusing to engage any further in conversation for the rest of their shifts.

The restaurant holds a potluck for Thanksgiving two days before the actual holiday. It’s a tradition set by the general manager that a lot of people enjoy engaging in, and after further convincing from Maya, Riley decides to attend. Besides, Lucas is going to be there, and she may have the smallest, tiniest of crushes on him.

Whatever. Doesn’t matter.

Riley does prepare a dish at the behest of Maya (Maya could probably goad her into anything at this point, really). She wants to do macaroni and cheese, but when she hears that Darby is going to she attempts to figure something else out, but Maya reassures her.

“Darby makes it from the box,” she explains, “And it’s always the worst. I love her, but she finds a way to ruin even the simplest of foods.”

“So it’s really okay if I make macaroni and cheese? My grandma really does have an awesome recipe for it . . .”

“Riley,” Maya says, stern, “I think I speak for everyone when I say please, for the love of god make that mac. We need quality mac this year for once.”

She doesn’t work that day, so Maya tells her she’ll pick her up right before the potluck. Riley sleeps in and then spends the rest of her hours preparing the macaroni and cheese fresh, spending a little bit of the extra time for showering, dressing, and maybe putting on a little bit of makeup.

Riley pulls the dish out of the oven with a minute to spare, grabbing a box to hold it in so it doesn’t burn her and the rest of her things, heading out the door when she receives a message from Maya telling her that she’s waiting outside. She pulls together all her things and makes a mad dash for the door, joining her friend inside the car so that they can drive off to their workplace.

Riley has to admit she’s a bit nervous—she’s been working there only a couple of months, and while she does get along with everyone, she knows she’s still new, still not quite a perfect fit in this little carefully constructed family. She hopes that this will aid to ease her anxiety and make her feel a little more solidified in their group and that she’ll just have a good time in general. This job . . . she’s grown to care for it, more than she’d care to admit.

They pull up outside the restaurant and Riley jumps out once they’ve parked, grabbing her macaroni and cheese and tailing behind Maya once she’s retrieved her own dessert from the back seat of the car. The doors click as they lock and the two of them walk inside, Maya with confidence and Riley a tad skittish behind her. They greet the two hosts manning the front, having to miss out on the celebration for a moment, and then head towards the back dining room where their party is taking place.

“Maya! Riley! Glad you two could join us,” their general manager Jon greets them. “You two can go ahead and set your food down at the tables over there and we’ll get ready to eat in a few minutes.”

They nod and do as they’re told, Riley splitting off from Maya to set her food on the table closest to her while Maya sets her dish down on the dessert table. She waits to take cue from Maya, embarrassed to be tailing her like a dog, but shakes the feeling as Maya takes a seat at one of the booths. Riley joins her, realizing one moment too late that Maya’s chatting up Farkle Minkus of all people.

“You bring anything for us, Minkus?” Maya asks, engaging him in conversation. Farkle snorts.

“God no. The last thing we need is me exploding a kitchen from my poor cooking skills. There’s a reason I’m a busser and not on the line.”

“Don’t you have a cook or something rich people can afford who can do things for you?” Maya snarks.

“Would you laugh if I say yes?” Farkle sighs, earning him a cackle from Maya.

Riley tries to restrain her curiosity, but it’s already been piqued—if Farkle is rich, then why is he working as a busser at a chain restaurant?

Whatever. Riley doesn’t care.

She spends the rest of Maya and Farkle’s conversation on the outside listening in, not really wanting to participate in conversation with Farkle because he’s, well, Farkle. Maya seems to respect her feelings, not pestering her to join, and for that Riley is thankful. She just waits in her seat patiently, ready for the eating portion of their get-together to start. Unfortunately, she has to wait another fifteen minutes for that, but half-way through she gets distracted because of Lucas’ appearance, trying her best to work up the courage to talk to him. He’s still in his work uniform—black button-up and black work pants, the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm—and it shouldn’t work for him but it does.

Right as she finally rises from her seat, deciding that she will talk to him, their general manager announces that it’s time for them to eat. He pulls them all into a quick little prayer before allowing people to start grabbing food, and by then Lucas is caught up in his own conversation with the people he’s friends with at work. Riley sighs, giving up as she joins Maya and Farkle at the buffet line their manager put together. She piles the food on her plate and then sits back down at their little booth, uncharacteristically quiet as Maya and Farkle sit back down.

“Okay, I swear to you that Yogi’s changed the recipe for this green bean casserole. It actually tastes good this year,” Maya says.

“I’ll take your word for it. I don’t do mushrooms,” Farkle tells her, wrinkling his nose at it.

“Do you not like mushrooms either, Riley?” Maya asks her, finally inviting her in to start talking. Riley shakes her head.

“No, I just don’t really like green bean casserole.”

“Holy shit,” Farkle interjects through a mouthful of food, “Darby’s really stepped it up with the macaroni and cheese. This stuff tastes like heaven.”

Riley stops, her mouth dropping open in surprise at his words. Maya’s mouth turns upwards into a brilliant, shit-eating grin that Riley just wants to wipe off her face but knows she can’t. It’s too late; the damage is done.

“That’s because Darby didn’t make it,” Maya tells him, the excitement unrestrained in her voice, “Riley did.”

Farkle registers her words, his chewing slowing down as realization dawns on his face. She half-expects him to spit it out, to retract his statement or do something else drastic, but he doesn’t. He swallows the mouthful of macaroni and cheese, sets his fork down, and meeting Riley’s gaze says, “This is really, really fantastic macaroni and cheese, Riley. Some of the best I’ve ever had. Good job.”

Riley will admit, she didn’t think Farkle would be the one to extend the olive branch between the two of them, but he does it all the same. She recognizes that her response to him will make or break the situation, but she’s not one to drop a compliment, especially one that has her blushing furiously. She can’t control it, not really, and she definitely can’t control the bashful smile that graces her face, so what the hell.

“Thanks, Farkle. I’m glad you enjoy it,” she tells him sincerely, her words startling him, too. But then he beams a grin back and Riley knows she can no longer be mad at him, not after that.

Damnit.

Friendship with Farkle after Thanksgiving is practically flawless. Riley doesn’t want to tell Maya she’s right because Maya will hold it over her for the rest of forever, but Riley and Farkle really do have a lot in common. He makes it easy to be his friend, so much so that she forgets she was ever mad at him and that she didn’t like him at all. They spend a good portion of their day complaining about someone or something from work and when they aren’t talking about that, they’re talking about outer space or their favorite tv shows or just anything.

It’s kind of ridiculous, but then again, Riley absolutely loves it. It makes working at least ten times easier now that they get along, but if anyone notices it, they don’t mention it aloud. The restaurant moves on with its day as if nothing has changed, but Riley is privy to the shift.

Regardless, their friendship is still brand new, still hanging on by a tumultuous thread. It’s something Riley can’t quite define, but it feels like the foundations are still shaky, like there’s something else that rests in the air between them when their conversations reach a lull during a slow day.

Maya voices her opinion on the subject after Riley mentions it while they’re getting ready for a costume party Sarah’s holding (“Halloween in December,” Sarah tells Riley, “It’s kinda my thing.”) Maya’s finished putting on her sexy ringmaster costume and has moved onto applying her makeup while Riley tries to wrangle and curl her hair into submission.

“It’s because you like him,” Maya tells her, working on her winged eyeliner with Bobby Fisher-like intensity.

“What? No I don’t,” Riley insists. “Farkle and I just became friends.”

“And this is supposed to deter my opinion on that? I already told you before that you had undeniable chemistry. But now you two actually get along, so now you can’t hide it.”

Riley has half a mind to make Maya mess up her eyeliner, but she’s not cruel. She’ll just remain disgruntled about the matter for the rest of the night.

Maya helps Riley with the rest of her angel costume after her hair is curled completely, and once they’ve pulled Riley’s wings on, they grab their things and leave Maya’s house. Maya drives them to the party and when they pull up, Riley has to admit that while she knew a lot of people were going to attend the party, she didn’t know this many people would be here. Cars line the empty space around Sarah’s place and partygoers are already hanging out on the lawn, enjoying themselves as the music blasts from inside the house.

Riley feels a nervous energy course within her as they walk up the sidewalk to the house. She’s excited for the party, she really is, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t anxious about it, too. All of that washes away the moment she and Maya step inside, their friends greeting them happily and complimenting their costumes.

“Oh my god, you guys finally made it!” Zay exclaims, a wide grin on his face. “Those costumes are dope as hell!”

“Thanks, of course they are,” Maya says, winking at him slyly. “But what are you supposed to be?”

Zay flashes his teeth, revealing a set of pointed fangs on the top and bottom.

“Teen Wolf!”

“That is both lame and fantastic,” Maya laughs, then turns to search the room. “Farkle here yet?”

“Yeah, last I saw he was playing beer pong with Lucas and couple of others. Why don’t you two get some drinks and then we’ll head that way,” he suggests. Maya nods and they follow him to what Riley supposes is the kitchen. He mixes them up a couple of drinks and hands them off to them, chuckling when Riley sniffs hers and scrunches her nose in disgust.

“Jeez, how much alcohol did you put in this, Zay?” she asks.

“Enough. Now drink up and let’s go, Matthews!”

She sighs and gives in, stealing a sip as they make their way to where Farkle and Lucas are. She almost gags at the pungent liquor smell again but drinks it anyway. It’s a good thing, too, because when they find the supposed beer pong tournament, it’s not Lucas who has her heart racing.

“Maya,” Farkle greets her when he spots her, but when his gaze lands on Riley, he practically beams. “Riley! I’m so glad you could make it!”

Words seem to fail Riley right now. She’s not sure why she’s feeling so off but seeing Farkle dressed as gladiator has sent her off-kilter. He looks so damn good in his costume and she starts debating whether or not she should abandon the drink Zay gave her altogether if it’s making her act like this.

“Hey, Farkle, good to see you, too,” she finally manages awkwardly, huffing in embarrassment before backing her drink like there’s no tomorrow. So much for abandoning it.

“Whoa,” Maya gasps, rushing over to Riley’s side, “What are you doing?! I thought you told me earlier you were going to take it easy.”

“I lied. Wanna make me another drink? I’m gonna need it,” she insists, ushering Maya back to the kitchen. As soon as they’ve made it, Maya shakes Riley off of her, glaring at her.

“What the hell was that about?!” she yells. Riley opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again as she goes through the five stages of grief in her mind. After a moment of silence and Maya waving her hand sporadically in Riley’s face to bring her back to earth, she says,

“I couldn’t be there anymore. I need more alcohol if I’m going to get through this night.”

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this? You were fine until we—” Maya pauses, then realization dawns on her face, “Oh!”

“Maya—”

“Holy shit, you don’t wanna go back there because you think Farkle looks hot in his costume. This is hilarious.”

“No it’s not! I don’t have feelings for him, I just think he looks . . . really good,” Riley tries, but Maya’s already grinning like an idiot.

“Now we have to get back there. I’m going to try so hard to set the two of you up it’s not even funny.”

“I don’t need your help! I don’t wanna be set up!” Riley exclaims, but it’s too late. Her decision has been made.

“I’ll make you a drink and then I’m gonna get you alone with Farkle. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

Riley groans, knowing she’s fighting a losing battle.

She does loosen up a bit after she’s finished off the second drink, but that doesn’t mean she’s gonna give into her friend’s plan.

And Maya does follow up on her promise despite Riley’s every effort to make it hard for them to be alone—after many failed attempts, she forces them in a spin the bottle circle. Riley only agrees to it because she’s borderline drunk and doesn’t care about a quick kiss with anyone, but when she finds out that whoever the bottle lands on is sent to the closet for seven minutes in heaven, she tries to run.

But it’s too late.

Maya’s spinning skills are off the charts, the bottle ends landing between Riley and Farkle. Everyone whoops and hollers at them except for Riley and Farkle themselves, but they still go follow the rules begrudgingly, allowing themselves to be shoved into a closet for everyone else’s entertainment.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Maya’s muffled yell erupts from beyond the closed door. Riley sighs.

“You know we don’t have to do anything in here, right?” Farkle tells her. “I’m not gonna force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Really?” Riley asks, spinning to turn and look at him, but that ends up being a mistake. She’d misjudged just how small the closet was, and she ends up pressed against him, his arms gripping her biceps when she stumbles a bit from the alcohol.

Whatever words Farkle wanted to say have since died on his lips, if his comically large eyes were anything to go by. Riley knows she’s gone though when she finds herself lost in the stormy gray irises of his, her brain actually entertaining the thought of kissing him.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I did, right? her brain asks her.

Right, her heart agrees.

Testing a theory, Riley’s hands rise to rest gently against Farkle’s cheeks. His breath stutters as soon as her fingers grace his skin, and she knows there’s no going back when she glances at his mouth before leaning in.

This is such a bad idea, she tells herself, But I don’t think I care enough to stop it.

Right when mouth is only centimeters away from Farkle’s, close enough that she can feel his breath ghosting her lips, the closet door swings open. Farkle and Riley jump apart, and whatever spell befell her has washed away, leaving confusion in its wake.

“Alright you two, get out so the rest of us can have some fun!” someone shouts. Riley nods and ditches Farkle, grabbing Maya by the arm and tugging her outside urgently.

“What the hell, Riley?” Maya grumbles as soon as they stop in what Riley deems is a quiet area.

“I think I have a crush on Farkle. I have a crush on Farkle, don’t I?” Riley asks.

“No shit,” Maya says, rolling her eyes, “You kind of made that abundantly clear tonight. But after all that hard work I went through you didn’t even follow through!”

“How can you tell?” Riley frowns.

“Because your lipstick is still perfectly fine, red as can be. If you kissed him, it’d be smudged and all over his mouth. Plus, I don’t really think Farkle would’ve survived it. I think he’d probably need to sit down for the next century in order to process it all.”

“You’re the worst,” Riley whines. Maya pats her shoulders sympathetically.

“I know, Sunshine. I know.”

Riley’s never been one to know how to act around crushes, but her crush on Farkle has rendered her absolutely neurotic. She still talks to him, of course, but she has a harder time starting conversations. What would he even want to talk about? Does he even want to talk with her?

It’s Riley’s favorite pastime, going into the land of overthinking. She excels at it a little too well.

After two weeks of utter turmoil and downright awkward interactions with Farkle, she thinks that maybe she’s just eternally hopeless. Whatever she might feel for Farkle doesn’t matter, because she can’t even figure out how to just be around him. She may as well just quit while she’s ahead and just give up on the hopes of ever being near him again.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t get that option.

Her manager suggests one morning that Farkle help her unload the boxes of wine they just got in, and when Farkle asks if she wants help, she says yes. Normally, she’s used to unloading it all on her own, but the thought of spending quality time with him is just too tempting to pass up and her brain is just dumb dumb dumb.

The restaurant is quiet as they unload each case of wine, save for the never-ending music selection on repeat with eight versions of the same five songs. But it’s nice, sharing a moment with him where they don’t have to talk about anything, just stock wine in the coolers.

Nice, of course, up until their fingers brush up against one another’s, sending electricity coursing straight through Riley’s system. She wonders if he feels it, too, but she doesn’t have to worry any longer when his gaze finally meets hers, the shock apparent on his face. They endure a long moment of silence until Riley can bear it no more, the words falling out of her mouth unbidden.

“Farkle, I really really like you. As in like like you,” Riley blurts.

“Oh thank god,” he breathes before pulling her in for a kiss.

It shouldn’t be great kiss, by all means—they’re both kneeling behind the host stand, the cooler doors open and bottles of wine still waiting to be stocked while a jazzy version of Wonderwall plays in the background. But that doesn’t matter to Riley; she’s with Farkle and they’re kissing and she never wants this moment to end.

It does, though.

“Ahem,” a voice clears their throat, causing Riley and Farkle to split. She has an oh shit moment when she thinks it might be their manager who’s caught them kissing while on the clock, but then it’s even worse when Riley realizes who it is.

“Oh. Hey, Maya,” Farkle greets her sheepishly, earning him a cackle from Maya.

“This is fantastic! I love being right!” she shouts.

Riley buries her head in Farkle’s shoulder in embarrassment, but she smiles secretly—

She loves that Maya was right, too.

#riarkle #riley x farkle #farkle x riley #gmw fanfic #gmw fanfiction #riarkle fanfiction #bella writes #ask

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reyescarlos · 4 years

Text

we found each other in the dark

chapter 3/4: heavy in your arms; word count: 6.6k || read on ao3

And is it worth the wait? All this killing time? Are you strong enough to stand Protecting both your heart and mine?

Eddie expected to have an eventful first day at the 118 but he couldn’t have possibly imagined the night would end like this.

Bobby had told him this morning that each shift was like playing Russian roulette. Some calls were minor, scenarios that the team could get through quickly enough without anyone’s life hanging in the balance. But the flip side to that were high stakes moments where one bad decision could mean death.

Eddie was used to working under pressure. He was certain that nothing could be more daunting than trying to save someone’s life and maintain his own while in the middle of a war zone. By comparison, the streets of L.A. would be milder, easier to tame, he figured. So, to find himself now staring down at a 40 mike-mike is startling, bringing his mind back to his tours in Afghanistan. How crazy, he thinks, that he would leave the military behind only to be faced with the weaponry in his civilian life. It’s a lucky thing, Eddie supposes, that he’s here for this now. He has a particular skill set that can very well save this man’s life.

Bobby calls it in to the hospital as they wheel the gentleman across the lawn and get him loaded up into the back of the ambulance.

“We have a 65-year old male with large shrapnel in his right thigh. Femoral artery damage…”

It’s hard not to get caught up in the belief of destiny when this is the kind of call he responds to on his first day with the team.

The gentleman, Charlie, is essentially a ticking time bomb and as he speaks his fears of dying tonight aloud, Eddie is grateful to have Buck with him now. As he gets the drip set up, Buck is there to settle the older man down, assuring him that he’s going to survive the night. Buck glances to Eddie and in his eyes, he sees Buck’s confidence in him. Eddie isn’t expecting such faith from the man seeing as though they’ve only just met but it feels good, he won’t deny, to have someone believe in his capabilities.

More often than not Eddie feels as if he’s stumbling through his life just hoping for something to stick but situations like this are ones he tends to thrive in. The irony doesn’t escape him. Day-to-day life is a challenge. Matters of life and death bring out his sense of calm.

Eddie assesses the damage, quickly working through the best course of action. Charlie’s words slur and soon he’s under, giving Eddie and Buck the chance to work in absolute silence.

“Tell me what you need me to do,” is all Buck says as he settles in beside Eddie, looking to him expectantly.

Buck takes a backseat and follows Eddie’s instructions to the letter, clearly realizing that even though he’s been with the LAFD for however long, it’s Eddie’s experience as a military medic that can decide the fate of this man. It’s quite the test for them to have on their first day but Eddie is relieved to see they’re able to meet the challenge head on and work so well with one another.

Buck is good at reading the terrain and anticipating what he’ll need next, an invaluable skill to have in a partner, Eddie notes.

Eddie can feel Buck’s eyes boring a hole into him as he tries not to disturb the grenade too much. One false move and all three of them won’t make it. With clear knowledge and practiced hands, Eddie works carefully as he extracts the grenade from the man’s leg, with Buck continuing to keep pressure against area to prevent Charlie from bleeding out. Eddie has been through much worse, much more intense situations than this controlled environment but this scenario is still grave. He feels confident, however, in his element somehow and that clears his mind enough to successfully dislodge the grenade.

“Get that box open,” he says, though Buck is unsurprisingly already flipping open the lid beside him. They’re still not in the clear yet but the second he hears the contact of metal against metal, Eddie can’t help but to let out a shaky breath of relief.

Buck is beaming at him, a mix of wonder and disbelief on his sweaty face.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Buck says.

“I can’t believe you’re still holding that thing and we’re still in here. Let’s go.”

Buck’s laugh is hearty and Eddie feels the timbre of it somewhere in the pit of his stomach, along with a strange tug of some kind. Eddie chalks it up to adrenaline and opens the door to the ambulance to make the hand off to the bomb squad.

“Hell of a first day, huh?” Buck notes as the ambulance pulls away, that playful smile on his lips again.

It’s growing on Eddie already, the way Buck acts as if the two are co-conspirators who share some kind of secret. It manages to draw him in and make him feel included in something even though this is all still so new. It’s been far too long since Eddie’s felt close to anyone, or even felt the inclination to let someone in. He’s used to keeping the world at an arm’s length but in just one day, Buck has managed to ease past those walls he’s been putting up. If he’s to keep to his objective for life in L.A., Eddie knows he has to do things differently this time around.

If that means forming a friendship with new his co-worker, he supposes it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to open himself up a bit more. The purpose of his move was to start over, to reinvent himself and grow. Eddie liked the idea of creating a new kind of family for himself. Judging by this trial by fire experience, Buck seems like the perfect starting point.

“Good work you two,” Bobby compliments as the pair take off the vests given to them by the bomb squad.

Eddie looks over at Buck and smiles. “He can have my back any day. I couldn’t have asked for a better a partner in there.”

It’s the honest truth. From their calls earlier, Eddie had gotten the distinct impression that Buck thrived off the high of rescuing people, of the danger in this profession. But when it came time to dial back and let someone take control of the wheel, he’d done so without question. They strike the perfect chord with each other and for Eddie, that bodes extremely well. Good chemistry was hard to come by but for them it’s organic. It feels like it’s been a lifetime since Eddie’s instinctively clicked with someone to this degree.

He supposes maybe this feeling is due largely in part to the fact that their kinship was just forged by fire. But if there were ever a measurement by which to set such a thing to, Eddie feels safe in saying this experience would bond them for a long time to come.

Buck smiles back at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“Or, maybe, you could have mine,” he counters. He gives Eddie’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Welcome to the 118. We’re damn lucky to have you.”

But Eddie hears a different set of words behind the ones Buck has just uttered.

Welcome to the family. This is where you belong.

~*~*~

As they hang around the loft between calls, Buck and Eddie settle around the table grabbing a quick bite. Eddie takes his phone out of his back pocket and sets it on the table. The screen comes to life and Buck’s eyes immediately take notice of Eddie’s lock screen. The image is of Eddie with a young boy, their cheeks pressed tightly together to fit into the frame. He doesn’t mean to be nosy but that’s a hard thing to miss.

Eddie notices, his expression soft as he looks at his phone.

“That’s Christopher,” he says. “My son.”

Buck sits up at this bit of information. Of all the things he’s been trying to imagine about Eddie, he hadn’t expected him to be a dad. Eddie unlocks his phone and pulls up a new photo and hands it to over to him.

Buck takes the phone, his smile almost as bright as Christopher’s in the photo. Chris has got a big grin on his face as he stands with the Ferris wheel at the pier in the background on a cloudless, sunny day.

“He’s ridiculously cute. How do you keep from spoiling him rotten?” Buck laughs, grinning at the photo for a beat longer before looking up at Eddie. “How old is he?”

“Just about nine actually. I can’t believe the years have been going by so quickly.”

Buck sucks in a breath. He’s been haunted by that precise length of time. It’s too coincidental not to mean what he thinks it does. Buck has been allowing himself to dive in slowly to the idea of claiming Eddie as his soulmate. Between the rush he felt when they first met to how natural they are with each other to this discovery that nine years ago Eddie had created a family supports his budding theory. This would explain perfectly why nine years ago he stopped getting updates to his marking.

It’s all matching up perfectly into place like a key in a lock. Buck just wonders what’s waiting on the other side of the door for him when he eventually pushes on it.

“Nine? That’s a fun age, right before the double digits kick in. Kids are such a blast,” Buck says, sitting back in his seat and handing Eddie back his phone.

“You like kids?”

“Oh, I love them. They’re way cooler than adults, that’s for sure. I like how they see the world, you know? They’re just taking it all in and learning about things for the first time. It’s awesome. Plus, they’re hilarious and rarely ever have a filter. You’ve got to respect that kind of honesty.”

Eddie smiles at him and Buck can’t help but to think his response passes some kind of test. Eddie looks satisfied with his answer, setting his phone back down and picking up his fork again, spearing a piece of fruit on the prongs.

“Judging by that picture I’m guessing he’s liking Cali a lot, huh?”

Eddie laughs. “You could say that again. He barely even mentions Texas. All he wants to do is explore the city. It’s been great for us, the move. I still have a few loose ends to tie up though.”

Buck raises a brow. He doesn’t want to push the matter too much but the statement intrigues him a bit.

“I’ve almost got his school situation figured out. I had a meeting a few days ago with the school coordinator but...,” he trails off, looking away. Buck isn’t sure he’s going to continue until he clears his throat and speaks. “They need to speak with Chris’ mom first. She has an interview with them tomorrow. If that goes smoothly, he should be enrolling with them.”

Buck shifts in his seat, his head erupting with questions about Chris’ mother. Whether they’re still together is the most pressing of them all. From Eddie’s tone and hesitancy, Buck can tell they aren’t on the best of terms. Eddie called her Chris’ mom, not his wife or partner. It’s a stretch but Buck is flexible enough to make it work.

“I haven’t seen her since the divorce but this is important. I really want Chris to get into this school. It’s perfect for him.”

Buck’s thoughts are split evenly in two, torn between the sheer relief in he feels in hearing Eddie isn’t married anymore and the concern he feels in seeing how worked up Eddie is over Christopher’s schooling.

“I’m sure her talk will go well. I know there’s a lot riding on this but she has to know that too and I’m sure she’ll crush the interview because of it.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, his brown eyes meeting with his blue. Land and sea, Buck thinks, two components that make up a world.

“Thank you,” Eddie says simply but Buck feels the full weight of it.

“Anytime.”

~*~*~

Eddie’s fingertips drum an uneven beat against his knee as he waits for Shannon to show up. It’s ridiculous, he’s well aware, to feel this antsy over seeing a woman he’s known for almost half his life. But these last nine years, their relationship had risen and fallen like a heavy breath. Now that it was out of both their systems, Eddie isn’t sure how to function around her.

He keeps an eye out for her and rises awkwardly off the park bench as she approaches. He waves at her, trying to gauge what kind of mood she’s in from a distance. She’s got on a flowing yellow dress that makes her look like sunshine. Her smile is just as warm too.

Eddie relaxes at the sight of that and takes it as reassurance that this talk will go well. It’s strange seeing her now. She looks different to him and Eddie has to wonder if she sees changes in him too.

“How’d it go over at the school?” he asks as they both sit down.

Shannon sits back and stretches her legs out, letting them cross at the ankles.

“Pretty well. They seem excited to have Chris enroll. You picked out a great school for him.”

Eddie takes the compliment with a simple nod and a quiet word of thanks.

“How…how is he? Is Chris liking it out here?” she asks tentatively, dipping a toe into uncertain waters.

Eddie unclenches his jaw and nods. She’s making an effort and Eddie knows this can’t be easy for her, to be sidelined in her own child’s life. Even though she had made the decision to take time to find herself, Eddie can see that it’s taking its toll on her to be away from their son. He can extend a kindness, an olive branch of some kind by way of decent conversation.

“He loves it so much. I think he wants to live at the pier,” he muses. He’s taken Chris down a few times now just to watch the waves and enjoy the beautiful weather. “He’s doing really well here and honestly, it’s a relief,” he sighs.

When he’d told his family he was leaving, they’d gotten into his head a bit that uprooting Christopher from Texas could have a damaging impact on his son. But he knew better than they did about Chris’ resiliency and adaptability. Chris was the kind of person who could make himself comfortable anywhere. It was a trait Eddie prayed his son would never lose. He knew all too well what it felt like to struggle for a bit of semblance. Luckily, Chris didn’t seem to have that problem.

Shannon stays quiet and Eddie desperately wishes he could open up her mind and see the thoughts that live there. There’s an unnamed tension between them, an awkwardness that Eddie doesn’t know how to get around. He supposes, with their history, it makes sense but he wants better for them both.

He decides to switch gears. If they’re really going to have a clear road ahead, he needs to do whatever he can to show Shannon that they’re on solid ground now. It’s exhausting constantly being at odds with her. Now that they’re divorced and no longer confined to the box they’d shoved themselves into, they both have room to breathe and grow. Hadn’t that always been a wish he had for them? For the two to mend the bridge that had given way years ago? They are in a different place now and Eddie knows he has to adjust his outlook accordingly.

“I don’t want us to be angry or upset with each other anymore. I want us to…I don’t know, be better to one another than we have been in the past. I don’t think I can carry those feelings inside me anymore. It’s draining and I don’t have the energy for it. I never really did.”

This seems to be the right set of words because Shannon blinks back tears and smiles at him.

“I would love that.”

Eddie sighs in relief and this time the quiet that settles between them is comfortable.

“Can I ask you something kind of ridiculous and personal?” Shannon says, tucking one of her legs under her, fanning out her dress over her legs smoothly.

“Should I be afraid?”

She laughs and it feels good to be able to joke around with her again. These are tentative steps but it feels reassuring to think he could be on his way to getting his old friend back.

“Eh, it could go either way.” She pauses for a beat before continuing. “Have you met Eva yet? I’ve been thinking a lot about your move and imagining you finding her out here.”

Eddie thinks it says a lot about where their relationship left off that Shannon is so casual in discussing him with another woman, a soulmate at that. It’d been awkward for the both of them seeing the makings of names on each other that weren’t theirs. They’d never talked about it explicitly but Eddie figured it was just as strange for her to wrap her mind around as it had been for him during their nine years together.

“Actually, it’s Evan not Eva,” he drawls, trying to get used to the taste of the name on his tongue. His heart is racing with the confession. How much will this change the way she sees him?

Eddie doesn’t even look at her. He fumbles with his watch and takes it off, showing her the soulmate marking. They both stare in silence at his wrist. It had been a complete shock to his system when it appeared so he can’t blame her for being stunned over the news.

“Wow. Wow, that’s…I don’t have any other word,” she laughs.

Eddie turns to look at her then. She looks surprised, of course, but happy. Eddie’s brows furrow.

“Where’d you meet him?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” he says, flipping the inside of his wrist back over, pressing it against his thigh. “I’ve been trying to figure it out. I think he’s someone I bumped into outside of a coffee shop but I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since. I didn’t even see his face that day, actually.”

Shannon’s smile turns into a frown at this.

“Oh, Eddie. I’m sorry.” He can tell she really means it. “But at least you know he’s out there. Whenever you do find him, don’t let go.”

Eddie searches her face for a moment, looking into her eyes and for a fleeting moment his mind drifts to a different set of blue eyes, ones that he’s grown so accustomed to in the short time he’s been working at the 118. It’s a startling thought that seems to come from nowhere. Eddie does his best to cast it aside. Buck isn’t where his thoughts should be right now, despite the fact that the other man has been on his mind more and more as of late.

Shannon takes him in as well before she continues to speak.

“I know you, Eddie. I know you’re probably scared over the fact that this is actually happening for you. But please remember you deserve to be happy. Despite everything we’ve been through, or maybe because of it, all I want is for you to be able to let the right love in. Evan is your soulmate, whether you’re ready for it or not. When you meet for real, don’t run from it, please.”

It isn’t lost on Eddie that this is the second person in a little over a week to tell him not to be afraid of his destiny. The women in his life know him better than anyone else. There’s no hiding from his grandmother who always had a knack for understanding him since he was a child. And Shannon had cultivated a life with him. Eddie couldn’t avoid being known by either of them. He could hide and keep himself from the rest of the world but these two were in the rare category that could see through it all to the heart of him each and every time.

Eddie wipes at his eye and laughs nervously. “I don’t know if I’ll be good for him. I’m kind of still figuring things out these days.”

Shannon reaches out a hand and holds onto his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s sort of the point of a soulmate though, isn’t it?” she says, peering at him, lifting a brow knowingly. “To love you unconditionally, no matter what kind of state you’re in?”

Eddie can’t refute this argument. He had always liked the idea of being able to turn to someone at the end of the day and speak openly about what he was feeling. He was able to do that with Shannon at times during their marriage, of course, but the tension between them made it hard for Eddie to cross the divide that lived with them sometimes. He imagined being with a soulmate would be the exact opposite, that even if they were upset with each other they’d still be a harbor for one another.

“I hate it when you’re right,” he jokes.

“You poor thing. Then you must be upset all the time,” she quips.

Eddie laughs, a real sense of elation he hasn’t had around her in some time solidifying in his chest. They still have a way to go but this first step was a crucial one and Eddie feels as if they’re finally moving in the right direction together.

~*~*~

Days like today have quickly become Buck’s least favorite. He knows he can’t expect to work every shift with Eddie but still, the times when they aren’t together begin to grate at him. He feels selfish for how badly he craves Eddie’s time and attention but he can’t help it. Soulmate or not, he’s genuinely been enjoying getting to know his new co-worker. The two have found an easy rhythm with each other since Eddie’s first day. Buck supposes nothing bonds two people together faster than saving the life of someone else.

With Eddie out for the day, Buck feels restless.

“Aww, is someone missing their new best friend?” Chimney teases as Buck flops back against the sofa in the loft. “Look at that pout, Hen. We can go diving off that lower lip.”

Buck tosses a cushion at him as Hen laughs at the two of them. Chimney lobs it back and jokingly flips him off, revealing his soulmate marking on his middle finger, the word Mad branded there. He thinks it’s the height of comedy. Buck has to agree it is pretty hilarious.

Hen nestles in beside him and pats the top of his head.

“Come on now. Buck up, Buck,” she muses. Chimney reaches over to give her a high five and Buck rolls his eyes playfully.

“A couple of comedians here.” He rises from his seat, ignoring their outcry for him to come back. They get over it quickly, starting up a new conversation by the time Buck makes it to the dining table.

They’re absolutely correct and Buck can’t even pretend to deny that. He’s gotten so accustomed to having Eddie around that a day without him just doesn’t feel right. He feels…unmoored somehow and Buck wishes he could have a definitive explanation for why that is. He has his theory, of course, but a proven hypothesis is what he longs for most of all.

The thought of asking Eddie outright what his first name is terrifies him. He doesn’t trust himself to have a neutral reaction if he were to hear it directly from Eddie’s lips. What he needs is a filter, a buffer of some kind to absorb his shock should his suspicion pan out to be correct.

Bobby is in the kitchen getting started on dinner.

“Hey, Cap,” Buck calls over as he goes into the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “What’s Eddie short for?”

As he closes the door to the refrigerator and looks to Bobby, the man has stopped chopping peppers and is standing still, looking at him.

“Why do you ask?”

Buck busies himself with twisting off the bottle cap but he can still feel Bobby’s eyes fixed on him.

“No reason; I was just wondering. I mean, I know I could ask him,” he says, hoping his tone is nonchalant. “But you’re here right now so…I figured you could answer just the same since you’ve seen all his paperwork and stuff.”

Bobby holds his gaze for a beat before returning to prep the meal and Buck is glad for it. Sometimes his captain just seemed to fix him with a stare that went right through him. There were so many things he didn’t want anyone else to see and Buck always had the feeling Bobby was skilled in noticing private things, even if he didn’t voice his findings out loud.

“His first name is Edmundo but, as you know, he prefers going by Eddie.”

Buck pretends not to notice Bobby’s eyes flickering up to him again. He just takes a sip of his water and nods.

“Cool,” he says, trying to keep his tone indifferent but inside Buck feels as if he can just about burst at any second. He isn’t sure which is racing faster, his heart or his thoughts.

Buck still can’t shake the feeling that he’s showed his hand in a way he can’t bounce back from but he couldn’t stop himself from asking the question. It’d been gnawing at him having this question mark dangling over his head. At least he could finally put that mystery to rest officially. If the cost of that information was making Bobby suspicious, it was a price he was willing to pay. Any bit of information that could bring him one step closer to certainty would be worth it, ten times over in fact.

But for the sake of not drawing Bobby’s eye too closely to the situation, Buck does his best to change Bobby’s train of thought, whatever track it may be on.

He reaches over the island and snags a piece of meat off one of the cutting boards. As he expects, the move is enough to shift Bobby’s focus. His captain swats at his hand and points his finger at him.

“What are you, a dog swiping scraps off the table?” Bobby jokingly reprimands, shaking his head. “You know, you really shouldn’t tick off the guy with a knife in his hand.”

Buck grins and wiggles his brows as he tosses the food into his mouth and walks away, successfully dodging a bullet and distracting Bobby from getting close to whatever conclusion he seemed to be gearing up towards.

It isn’t until he’s heading down the stairs, past Hen and Chim, and is safely on his own that his thoughts begin to spiral in earnest. His hands shake as he holds on to the railing to keep from losing his balance. He’s coming undone at the seams. This confirmation is too much for him and the worst part of all is that he has no one to talk to about it now.

Buck keeps moving forward, his legs working on their own accord to take him outside of the station. His body knows that what he needs is time to himself to process this information. Breathless, he presses his back against the side of the building, the surface hot but he doesn’t care. He needs the support of the brick wall to keep him standing. The question of who his soulmate was had plagued him for almost a decade and now that he has an answer, Buck isn’t even sure what to do with it.

He knew he felt drawn to Eddie, literally from the moment they met. He had sensed it. Buck was a personable guy; he got along well with virtually everyone but that instantaneous connection to Eddie felt different to him. Buck had wondered if he was just so keyed up on the idea that Eddie was meant for him, as if he had on rose colored glasses but the truth was, he had been seeing the situation for what it was exactly. That spark was a flare, an internal signal alerting him to the fact that something big was happening here.

Buck presses his fingertips against his ribs, the move so instinctual since the name first appeared. It’s like air to him now. He may not be able to see it but he knows it’s there. More often than not, it feels like the only thing sustaining him. Discovering that Eddie is in fact Edmundo is similar to learning the meaning of a word that you’ve come across often but never looked up. You’re aware of its existence but it’s abstract until knowledge is gained.

Buck’s eyes sting and he feels as if he could just scream. For as much as he hated the fact that Eddie has the day off, he’s glad to be away from him in this moment. He’s in no fit state to be around him now. He wouldn’t trust himself to keep from shouting the truth that’s desperately trying to claw its way free, demanding to be heard.

~*~*~

The station’s alarm blares, drowning out the sound of the simulation game Hen and Buck are playing. They drop their controllers and hop to their feet, ready to gear up.

“Hen and Chim, I need you two to ride over in the ambulance. Eddie and Buck, you’re with me. Let’s go, guys,” Bobby instructs.

The team doesn’t hesitate to fall into line with Bobby’s orders. Buck grabs his helmet and hurries to the rig, swinging open the door and climbing inside, Eddie right on his heels. Bobby has the truck pulling out of the station just a few seconds later.

As always when they’re sent out on a call, Buck’s adrenaline races wildly. He’s already trying to imagine what scenario they’ll find themselves in, coming up with tactics he could use to help those in need before even arriving at the scene. If he can be prepared in any way, even by way of a hypothetical simulation in his head, Buck will be grateful for it. Sometimes seconds is all it takes between making sure someone can return home to their families that day or them never seeing their loved ones again.

As Bobby cuts through the streets, his hand heavy against the horn at times, Eddie looks at his phone screen and purses his lips. Buck knows he shouldn’t pry but he can’t stop himself from speaking up, seeing how distressed Eddie’s expression is.

“Everything alright?” he asks over the headset.

Eddie glances up at him as if weighing what to say before he sighs.

“Not really. My aunt is saying she isn’t sure she can watch Chris next week like she thought she’d be able to. I need to find someone in case it turns out she can’t. I haven’t been meeting too many people out here and either way, I’d hate to have to ask that favor.”

Buck thinks for a second. “I know a woman who could help,” he offers up.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” Eddie jokes.

Buck resists the urge to grimace at this. Like he would ever deign to pair Eddie up with someone else, as if the man’s name hadn’t been branded on his skin for days now. Eddie was his, even if the other man was none the wiser. Buck wouldn’t compromise that for anything.

Regardless, that wasn’t even remotely close to where Buck was going with this conversation so he dismisses Eddie inquiry with a laugh and roll of the eyes.

“Not in the way you’re clearly thinking right now. Her name is Carla Price and she is possibly the most badass caregiver in the whole city.”

He skips over the details of how it is he came to know Carla. Abby hasn’t crossed his mind in ages and he’d rather not get hung up with her in the back of his thoughts.

“Wait, seriously? Do you think she’d be willing to meet with me?”

Buck nods and fishes his phone out of the inside of his jacket. He sends a quick text to Carla and she responds less than a minute later.

“She’s up for it. If you’re free tonight, she says she’s available to chat.”

The smile that washes over Eddie’s face makes Buck’s brain short circuit for a second. All he ever wants to do is keep Eddie in good spirits, to ensure his peace of mind however possible.

“Buck, I owe you. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Just say the word.”

Buck falters for the briefest of seconds before smiling to cover it.

“It’s nothing. I’m just glad I could help you out somehow.” His voice sounds different in his own ears but Eddie might be too distracted and overjoyed with the good news to notice it.

Buck bites back on the inside of his lower lip and glances away, unable to look at Eddie right now. He’s certain the truth of what he wants is written plainly on his face. He’s sick with want, filled to the brim with longing. It’s a wonder Eddie can’t hear the call Buck’s soul makes to his regularly.

He looks out through the small window in the back of the truck to see how close they are to the scene and to look at anything but Eddie. What he finds is that Bobby’s peering at him through the rear-view mirror before turning his focus back on the road. Buck can feel his cheeks flushing and is glad for the hot day to be the perfect cover for the sudden change in hue.

He wishes the comms had a private channel he could speak on. Bobby was too good at reading between the lines.

~*~*~

It’s the end of their workday and the team hangs about the station around their engine, recounting the day they’ve had. Hen is adjusting her shirt, her wife Karen’s name visible on her collarbone. Eddie wonders what it would be like to be that confident in showing his soulmate marking off. In theory he could do so at work but for nine years, Eddie has gotten into the habit of hiding it.

At first it had been to avoid throwing the reminder in Shannon’s face every single day. Now it’s just become second nature. If he’s being completely honest, there’s also a small part of him that isn’t ready to make that bold of a statement. He’s comfortable in his sexuality and clearly the 118 isn’t close-minded but he isn’t even sure what label suits him best. His soulmate marking calls into question a lot of things he’s suppressed over the years. Being in L.A. as a whole is dredging up those dormant feelings.

He’s had fleeting attractions to guys every now and then but these days he finds himself focusing on one guy in particular even though he knows he has no business feeling anything towards Buck. He’s his co-worker and nothing more. He can’t be anything else to him. Eddie’s already disregarded his soulmate marking once before. He can’t bear to go down that road a second time.

Sometimes, he’d try discreetly to see if by some strange miracle his name is on Buck’s body but to no avail. He’s constantly torn between thinking Buck is skilled at hiding it like he is with his own marking or that the truth is staring him in the face and they aren’t meant for each other. The latter is a terrifying thought, especially since Eddie has been quietly taking a real liking to the man already but it’s just as well. Eddie’s never been lucky in love. Why should that change now?

“You good, Eddie?” Hen asks, pulling him from his thoughts.

Eddie looks around at the group, their faces all expectant. He clears his throat.

“Yeah, just daydreaming, I guess.”

She regards him thoughtfully and her kind, concerned gaze is like a serum that manages to pull more words out of him.

“I just noticed your marking,” he says, pointing to his own collarbone. Hen breaks into a wide smile and places a hand over where her wife’s name is printed on her skin.

Eddie wishes he could have that sense of ease. The matter of soulmates has always been such a sensitive topic for him, a source of stress.

Hen must see something in his face because her head tilts a bit to the side.

“Have you gotten yours?” she asks.

Eddie glances around at the group. These people are supposed to be his family after all. He can trust them and speak as freely as he’s comfortable with.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it makes much of a difference either way.”

Buck looks affronted as Chimney and Hen share a glance.

“Why do you say that?” Chim asks, leaning a shoulder against the side of the truck.

Eddie shrugs, struggling with the right words as he always seems to do any time he talks about something so personal.

“It feels a little too good to be true when you stop to consider it. Maybe for some folks it works out perfectly, like for you and Karen. But, I’m not so sure that’ll be the case for me. My soulmate and I have already gotten off on the wrong foot, I think. It’s…complicated,” he settles on saying.

“Like a Facebook status?” Chim interjects.

Hen presses her fingertips to her forehead, dropping her head down. “You’ll have to excuse him. His foot has a habit of landing in his mouth. There’s no cure for it, unfortunately.”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. “I’m just not in a rush to find them right now is all. If it happens, great. If not, it’ll be alright too. I guess I’m good with just playing it by ear, you know? Whatever happens, happens.”

That’s the mantra he’s been adapting for himself now. Evan has been elusive since the man’s name first appeared on his flesh. Every day he’s had to look down and see it plastered on his skin but still he is nowhere near closer to finding him than he’d been on day one.

Chimney shrugs and nods in understanding. “I get that, too. I mean, they’re our soulmates, right? They’ll turn up. I’m just happy to know it’s going to happen,” he laughs, looking at the budding marking on his finger.

Buck rises from off the back bumper of the truck suddenly, making everyone in the cluster look over at him.

“I really gotta get going, sorry, guys,” he mumbles, saying something else Eddie doesn’t catch.

Eddie frowns, unsure of what to make of Buck’s changing mood and apparent hurry to get home. Hen and Chimney look just as confused too as Buck hooks his duffle bag onto his shoulder and starts to walk straight ahead.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie calls after him but he doesn’t think Buck hears him for the man does not reply.

#buck x eddie #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #sulkybbarnes #rafasilvas #bisexualbuck #starlightbuck #athenagrantt #userbones #tylerhunklin #captainstennerstar #maysgrant #userkinga #kimmy writes

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years

Text

Downtown Detectives || Morgan & Marley

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @detectivedreameater & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Marley meets another detective.

CONTAINS: Proof Morgan should stick to her day job.

If you’re looking for a sketchy witch, you go to the sketchy witch place in town. Morgan loitered around Amity Row for hours, hoping to spot one of the faces she and Winston had pulled from Coraline’s social media feed. She hadn’t been settled in White Crest very long, just a few months like Morgan, and there were only so many people who were old enough to have the kind of experience to alchemize iron in a body where there should be none. Maybe the parents of one of her college friends, maybe someone from her new D&D group, or-- Morgan’s brow quirked as she saw someone walk out of Stone’s Philosophy. She wasn’t close to the man, but she recognized him from enough faculty meetings to recognize him as Dr. Fridlund from the Chemistry department. He was the kind of guy that gave kids extra credit just for wearing a school shirt on Friday, the kind of guy you would think to trust. The kind of guy who you might meet in some sketchy secondary location because just in time to flex his secret alchemy skills.

Morgan saw him making his way to Eye of Newt, which had started seeing a sudden uptick in business after Vera figured out she’d been slipped a Monkey’s Paw. Morgan made a beeline for the door, power walking faster than any suburban mom ever had, and cutting him off at the door. “Hey! Doctor Fridlund, right? Or, Eric, can I call you Eric? It’s just so weird and great to see you around this part of town! I kinda miss the old Chem Crew a little.”

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Eric Fridlund adjusted his polo and leaned back on his heels to put some distance between them.

“Morgan Beck? I took on some of the intro classes last semester, because of the TA shortage? We were at a faculty lunch together? You were really excited to talk to me because your mom and I are from the same city!” Excited was a bit of a stretch, but she was going to make him feel as bad as possible for not remembering her. “It’s such a shame we don’t get to see each other more, but you’re busy taking on extra undergrad tutoring sessions, right? I feel like I heard that from one of my summer kids. Coraline Adams?”

Eric Fridlund pretended to understand exactly what the strange woman was saying and tried to ease his way around her. “Of course! So great to run into you. Anyways, gotta--oh.”

Morgan shifted, blocking his way once again. “Actually, I had a weird question for you!”

This part of town was, ironically, where Marley felt the most at home. And the most powerful. Walking around Amity with a badge on her hip and sunglasses firmly shielding her eyes, people shrunk out of her way, or gave her strange looks. That was fine with her, she liked it that way. No one got too close. This was how it was supposed to be, after all. And checking into a lead (even though she was technically still on leave, but sneaking into the precinct late at night to nab some files had been so easy) made everything feel even more normal. Apparently there was some suspicious activity that needed to be looked into down here, likely some sort of drug territory dispute, but of the...supernatural variety. It was right up her alley, literally. The lead told them that the last known sighting of one of the suspects was near Stone’s Philosophy, a cheesy name for a stupid magic jewelery shop if Marley had ever heard one. But the name didn’t matter, because she was here now, and as she went to head into the shop, something else caught her eye. Two people near the entrance to the shop next door, Eye of Newt, and one of them clearly looked uncomfortable. Interesting.

Marley turned and paused, watching them for a moment. The shorter, curly haired woman seemed to be cutting off the man’s route. She had that pinchy, determined look on her face, and Marley recognized it. It would be easy enough to walk away and let them go about their business, but Marley was the curious sort. And so she crossed over and came up behind the two of them, hands on her hips. “Everything okay over here?” she asked, quirking a brow.

There was a tone of voice cops had when they were getting ready to throw their weight into a situation. Morgan knew what the woman across from her was before she clocked the badge at her hip. She went rigid, smiling stiff as she said, “Yes, of course! Just catching up with a friend, right?”

Eric Fridlund considered his options. He had too many shoplifted items in his bag to want to invite too much scrutiny, but he sure wanted to get out of this interaction and get back to his wife and dog. “Sorry if we’re blocking the entrance, we’re just wrapping up here, though, right?”

“Yeah, you were gonna tell me about the last time you saw Coraline. She was in your summer seminar, right? It’s just, you know, so weird that she hasn’t been in class so close to finals, you know?” Morgan touched his arm and steered them away from the door, barely concealing her irritation at the officer. Eric brushed her off with a more pleading look the officer’s way, but obliged nonetheless.

The situation was already strange to Marley but when the name ‘Coraline’ came up, her entire body stiffened. She remembered reading that name on a recent missing person’s report. And while it could be coincidence, Marley’s years as a detective in a small town like this told her it wasn’t. “Did you say Coraline?” she asked, stepping over towards the two, leaving all air of intervening behind. “That wouldn’t be Coraline Adams, would it?” The nervous look on the man’s face didn’t escape her, either. He knew something. Her eyes sharpened and she could feel the want trickling into her bones, the need to feed. It was all she could get these days, was little snacks like this. But the other woman presented a small problem. And so she’d play along for now. “Why don’t you answer the question, buddy, huh? Make this easier on all of us.”

Of course someone had called the flipping cops. Morgan didn’t even know how long Coraline had been missing for, but her body had been stashed at Erin’s for well over a week. Her friends would have noticed eventually. And, what with the whole playing your cards close game supernaturals always had to play, someone had involved the cops without realizing it was the last thing anyone needed. Especially Coraline. But Eric was getting a little wormy under the officer’s attention. Morgan couldn’t rule him out as a real lead. Morgan set her jaw against her irritation and rolled with it. “Uh...yeah. It is, actually.”

“I don’t know. I’ve already emailed the dean of the science college, letting him know that Coraline’s failing my seminar because she refuses to come to class or communicate with me,” Eric said irritably.

Yes, Morgan thought, because she was murdered. “That’s it? You just went straight to her dean?”

Eric shrugged. “I’m a busy guy, and University protocol doesn’t require me to do anything else. Now, uh, speaking of busy--” He gestured with his shopping bag before he realized his mistake in drawing attention to it, flushed, and started to extricate himself from the two women.

Marley could sniff out guilt in almost anyone. Eric looked ready to bolt, his body stiffening at just the mention of Coraline, and the way his eyes averted the conversation when he admitted to having contacted the Dean and only the Dean about her absence. Marley put a hand up, blocking his path, and leaned against the building so he couldn’t escape by her. “Actually,” she said, “you’ve become suddenly not busy, right? Because...you wanna stay here and have a nice chat with us outside of this store, instead of, say...down at the station.” Her eyes sharpened and her stare could be felt, even from behind her glasses. “Right?” When he stopped moving, Marley dropped her arm. “So, why don’t you start from the beginning, hmm? When did you last hear from her?”

Morgan couldn’t help but side-eye the officer. She’d never had one on her side before, not that she knew it was her side. It was more of a coincidence than the law giving a shit for dead, lost fae or knowing how to handle them. She tried to subtly shift her body to pen Doctor Fridlund closer against the shop and peek around his shirt sleeves and collar. Her parents had always worn their transmutation circles on their person, and she knew enough from photos and stories that tattoos were a common practice for serious witches since they couldn’t be lost. There was one of those ‘edgy’ leather bracelets that had ridden up his arm. She couldn’t tell if there was a charm or not, but without being able to tell for sure…

“What? No, I’m...my wife is expecting me and it’s my turn to walk the dog, and I don’t see any, you know, official warrants or anything. I’m positive I don’t actually have to talk to either one of you. You--” Eric pointed to Morgan. “Are you with her? Is this some ridiculous undercover set up?” He tugged on his polo again. “You know what, it doesn’t matter, and I don’t care. I don’t know when she stopped coming to class, at least two weeks ago, if the cops really wanna come take a look at my attendance sheets, they’re welcome to it. I’m sure the tutoring logs are still around somewhere too. We were meeting one on one for help for a few weeks, and then nothing. It’s not pretty, but it happens all the time. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

Marley narrowed her eyes. People often didn’t cooperate under stress, but it was also a symptom of guilt. He was giving excuses that didn’t make one-hundred percent sense. The other woman was getting squirmy, too, glancing around at the man as if looking for something. Marley followed her gaze only for a bit before turning her attention back to the man. “You know, I think I’d love to pay the school a visit on your behalf. Should I just come directly to your office? Or let the front desk know who I am and what I’m there for? Cause I’m good either way,” she stated firmly, standing between him and his quick exit. She wasn’t entirely convinced this man actually knew anything, but if he did, she was going to get it out of him. And if he didn’t, there was still another thing he could give her. “If she stopped coming to class two weeks ago why did it take you a full week to report her missing to the Dean?”

Eric Fridlund went still. “Christ, she’s missing? Did you know about this?” He whirled his attention on Morgan.

Morgan made no reply.

“Look, the memo to the dean was just a standard form, University Protocol. I put in her ID number, checked why I was technically concerned, she had missed over a week of class and needed to do something or else take a failing grade, and I said something about how we had after class meetings. These idiots realize they’re in too deep all the time, and they’re too busy whining into their cell phones to remember to drop or leave notice. It’s unfortunate, but it happens. My job is to get the real grown ups looped in and hope for the best.”

“But you didn’t say why,” Morgan said.

“I don’t know!” Eric snapped. “Obviously if I knew she was missing, I would have acted more accordingly. If she’s in serious trouble...Christ, I don’t know. What do you think, Beck, another round of grief and crisis inservices?”

“I don’t know, Doctor Fridlund. I’m still wondering why you’re either dangerously negligent or hiding something besides your stupid shopping bag.” She reached for his arm and pulled, dragging down his bracelet as she upset the contents.

“Hey! She can’t do that! Officer, she can’t do that, right?”

Whoever this woman was, Beck, it seemed, she was just as fed up with this boring professor as Marley was. He wasn’t giving her any answers she wanted, and she could feel the anger rising inside of her. “So glad the university has a professor like you who seems to care so much about his students. Waiting whole weeks before reporting them missing while thinking they’re just drop-outs or lazy and not, I don’t know, in need of help? Possibly even using this as a cry for help? Just...delighted,” she growled. It was apparent this situation was more than just a case to Marley, but she glowered into the man’s eyes from behind her shades and restrained herself, just barely, from peering into his fears.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered slowly, turning her head away as the other woman yanked on him. “I don’t see her doing anything.”

Eric puffed, indignant at this treatment. These bleeding hearts were always after him. He stooped to pick up his knick knacks with what dignity he had left (Christ, he needed to see someone about this. He’d stolen a golf hat from one of the shops and he didn’t even like golf). But before he could get that far, he felt the officer’s eyes on him and looked up. More than anything he wanted to tear his eyes away, to be anywhere but this godforsaken street. “No,” he whispered. “You can’t...this isn’t happening…” He backed away from them both and let the bag fall from his hands. He ran, stumbled to his knees in the street, got back up, and kept running.

Morgan reached out for him again, “Get back here--!” But whatever had come over him was too strong to listen. He left without picking up anything from the ground, and even leaving his bracelet behind. Morgan stooped to pick it up. She recognized the transmutation circle at once and grimaced, burning to have the power to make the ground swallow him up. “Well, that was interesting,” she grumbled. And not exactly illuminating for her peace of mind. She’d passed off her own spellcraft as pure aesthetic to know not everyone with a circle knew the first thing about equivalent exchange.

Coward. Marley flicked her eyes away from him and let the fears fall away. He didn’t actually know anything, she could tell just by the taste-- his fear was darker, different. He didn’t care about Coraline or what happened to her. But she was definitely going to be paying him a visit at the school, and that time, she’d come for him full blast. Whatever he was hiding, he held power somewhere, and she could use that to her advantage. Turning back to the other woman, Marley sized her up. “So...what’s your connection to Coraline?” she asked, raising a brow. “A worried friend? Interested party? Wannabe detective striking out on her own?”

All of Morgan’s rising warm feelings for the officer flatlined. “Oh, I’m just…concerned.” That much was true. “And the guy, you know, he gave me these weird vibes, you know. I just happen to think, you know, it’s a shit show out there and more people should care. Crazy, I know.” Morgan shrugged and looked down at the stolen things on the floor. There was an athame with its price sticker still on in the mix, but most of it was mundane garbage. Morgan grimaced. Completely useless. “Thank you, for whatever you did over there. But I guess I should be going too…”

Marley watched the woman fumble in her words. She was lying about something, but hiding it behind small tidbits of truth. Frowning, Marley moved to pick up the bag. She supposed she should return it to the store it was stolen from. Turning to look back at her, Marley gave her best attempt at a smile. She had a hunch, and it was time to test it out. “Of course,” she said, coming back over to her. She stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out one of her cards. “If you think of anything else, feel free to contact me. After all, people like us,” she leaned in a little closer, “we gotta stick together, right?”

Morgan went stiff. What did she mean? Could she smell the death on her? Hear her lack of heartbeat? She was remembering to breathe, right? Or maybe the officer meant something else. Maybe it was people like them as in women, or queer women. All lady officers looked butch, and this one carried no small amount of swagger. Morgan offered her a smile and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m not sure what you mean exactly, but I appreciate the sentiment. I don’t generally find police officers to be very sympathetic when it comes to my side of the tracks.” She offered her a wave and started to edge away.

Marley noted the woman’s stiffness at the question, watching her work out exactly what Marley meant. Whatever she said next, Marley already had her answer. Body language was so telling after all. “Well, not all officers have blindfolds on,” she said in return after a moment, “just know there’s someone looking out for you on the squad.” Or watching them closely, in her case. A tip of her head, a crooked smile. She wanted to stay longer, to figure out what exactly this woman was-- but it wouldn’t do to push such a twitchy looking person. “Hey, wait,” she called out, not moving from her spot, “I never got your name. I’m Marley.”

Morgan nodded, her smile curving up in a friendly way. Something sounded familiar about that name, she just couldn’t figure out how. She almost wanted to ask if she knew Jane Wu, but she didn’t want to put the reckless not-zombie into any more trouble than she already got into by herself. “I’ll try and remember that,” she said. “Maybe I’ll look you up sometime to say hey. If you hear from a gal named Morgan, you know it’s probably me.” Keeping the bracelet clenched tight in her fist, Morgan backed herself out of the street and high tailed it for home.

#wr marley #wr chatzy #wr marley chatzy #downtown detectives #wr #wickedswriting

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wecarebest-blog · 4 years

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Why WECAREBEST Organic Series?

Why WECAREBEST Organic Series?Benefits of WECAREBEST Organic Soap

What is the number one benefit of Organic soap? Organic soap is simply better for your skin. It contains natural ingredients such as plant-derived base oils, glycerin, and essential oils. By contrast, synthetic, mass-market soap is made of petroleum-based lathering agents, synthetic fragrances, harsh dyes, and dangerous preservatives. It’s not surprising, then, that a lot of our customers say that their skin feels better after using organic soap, and that it sometimes helps to improve skin conditions such as eczema and acne, rather than producing further irritation.

But not only is WECAREBEST organic soap better for you, it’s also better for others. It’s better for the environment because producing its ingredients has less of an environmental impact, and because those ingredients break down easily and cause fewer problems after they go down the drain. It’s better for animals because its ingredients are already recognized as safe, so no animal testing is necessary. And finally, organic soap is better for the economy, because it is often made by small, local producers, so the dollars you spend on it stay in the community.

What do I mean by organic soap?

When I talk about organic soap, most of the time I’m talking about natural and organic soap. Natural soap is made out of fats or oils, water, lye, and often essential oils and natural dyes. Organic soap also has the added benefit of being made of ingredients that are produced with organic farming practices, that is, farming practices that don’t use pesticides or synthetic fertilizers. So organic soap is natural soap, but it is also one step better.

WECAREBEST Organic soap is made from Organic eatable ingredientsthat are better for your skin!

Organic Base Oils

WECAREBEST Organic soap is made from natural ingredients, and in most cases, those ingredients are also organically farmed.Such as organic olivia oil, organic coconut oil, organic grapeseed oil... The majority of the soap bar is made of what are called base oils. We use some of the same base oils for soapmaking that you can use for cooking. So if it’s safe to eat, it’s probably also safe to put on your skin. In the case of our latest recipe, those oils are coconut, olive, and castor bean oil. (We used to use palm oil but are phasing it out because of the massive amount of environmental destruction that it takes to produce.)

Premium Essential Oil

Another ingredient in our soap is essential oil. Essential oils are the volatile or fragrant compounds in certain plants. Most essential oils are distilled from things you would eat such as citrus fruit or herbs. Two examples of essential oils we use are lemon essential oil and rosemary essential oil. Experts say you shouldn’t put pure essential oil on your skin because it is very concentrated and can cause irritation. However, essential oil diluted with another oil is just fine.

Planted Based Glycerin

WECAREBST organic soap also contains glycerin. Glycerin is a natural product of the soapmaking reaction. A lot of mass-market soapmakers and some small-batch soapmakers take out the glycerin because it makes the soap bar last longer or because they can sell the glycerin to use in other cosmetic products. However, when glycerin is left in the soap bar, it acts as a humectant, or a substance that attracts moisture from the air into the skin. Two other natural humectants are aloe and honey.

What about lye?

Lye is a purified natural substance that does not meet the definition of “organic.” Lye does have it’s origins in wood ashes, so it is plant-based. But it doesn’t seem like something you’d want to put on your skin. So what gives? Well, one soapmaker explained there is a difference between “contains lye” and “made with lye.” Soap is made in a chemical reaction between lye and oil. So, if done properly, there is no lye left in the soap once the soapmaking reaction is complete. There are only sodium ions, fatty acids, glycerin, and a bit of water. (And essential oils and whatever else you put in the bar.) If you have any more questions about how this works, google knows the answer, or you can send and email to [email protected], and we can grab a beer and chat about chemistry.

Soapmaking and cooking

A few years ago a friend bought a house, and her father came to visit to help her with a couple of carpentry projects before she moved in. We were all having dinner one night, and he said something that stuck with me. If you start with the best ingredients, and manage to combine them with a little bit of skill, you’ll probably end up with a pretty good dish. If you think about it, this makes a lot of sense. Imagine buying a salmon right off the boat, which you could when I was growing up on the Oregon Coast. Imagine taking the salmon home and cooking it over an open fire in the back yard. Pristine ingredients. And sure, it takes a little bit of skill to cook fish over a fire. Now imagine fish sticks that you buy in the freezer section of the grocery store. Imagine all the technical steps and machinery it takes to make fish sticks. Now which tastes better? In my experience, soapmaking works the same way.

A few of the bad things found in mass-market commercial soap. Three ingredients I’m going to examine are surfactants, parabens, and artificial frangrances.

Surfactants

Surfactants are the chemicals responsible for the cleansing properties of a particular product. Surfactants are made of long molecules with two different ends. One end of the molecule sticks to water, while the other sticks to dirt and oil. Surfactants, as a category aren’t automatically bad for you. Soap is technically a surfactant. But you have to be careful about which surfactants you put on your body. One of the most common surfactants in personal cleansers and shampoos is sodium lauryl sulfate. Sodium lauryl sulfate, or SLS, is made from coconuts, but it is contaminated with toxic byproducts when it is manufactured. SLS has been linked to skin irritation, toxicity, endocrine disruption, and cancer. Another unsettling fact about SLS and many other synthetic substances is that your body doesn’t have the enzymes to break them down, so they may accumulate in your tissues over time.

Parabens

Parabens are a specific type of preservative used in a wide range of cosmetics and pharmaceutical products. More specifically they prevent growth of mold and bacteria. Paraben is actually short for “parahydroxybenzoate.” The reason we should avoid parabens is because they act like estrogen in the body. Too much estrogen can lead to breast cancer and reproductive issues. One piece of good news is that there are a lot of newer safer preservatives available, so a company that is still using parabens is really just being lazy. When inspecting labels on cosmetic products you should look out for the three most common parabens: butylparaben, methylparaben and propylparaben. Or you can just opt for a simple, natural product such as WECAREBEST organic soap!

Artificial fragrances

Let me tell you a story about artificial fragrances. Back in the early days of Metaphor Organic, we used some of them. (Hangs head in shame.) We bought all our essential oils down the street at a little bulk herb shop, and the artificial fragrance oil was right next to the essential oils. We didn’t know any better! But the more research we did, the more we realized we should phase them out. For example, there was an artificial vanilla that we used in some of our scent blends. Then we tried to find natural vanilla, but it was very expensive and it didn’t smell very distinctly. So we wrote to the manufacturer of the artificial vanilla to try to find out what was in it, because maybe then we could justify putting it in the soap. But they wouldn’t tell us! Artificial fragrances recipes are protected as trade secrets. So maybe they are fine, but other sources report that the majority of artificial fragrances are derived from petroleum.

Other ingredients

There is a long list of other synthetic ingredients that may be found in mass market cleansing bars, but listing them would make this article way too long. The best place to look for info on just about every additive to personal care products (and food) is the Environmental Working Group, or EWG. It’s their job to stay up to date on all the latest research on potentially harmful chemicals.

Why do companies use chemicals?

Ok, technically everything is made of chemicals, but you know what I mean. Why do large skin care companies use synthetic ingredients? For one, they’re cheaper than natural ingredients. For another, they’re easier to process and store. And finally, it’s easier to get them to produce exactly the desired result, such as super intense colors and scents. Remember that artificial vanilla we found at the herb store? It smelled like an hyper-natural BLAST of vanilla. Unfortunately, a lot of natural scents aren’t able to translate into soap. You can distill the essential oil out of a certain number of plants, mostly strong-smelling herbs, but I’ll bet that blueberry-ice-cream-scented soap is synthetic. Likewise, many flower scents are incredibly expensive to distill in their natural form, so, for example, if you want a jasmine bar of soap that costs less than $25, you have to use synthetic.

Regular Soap that isn’t soap!

As a final note on artificial soap, you might have noticed that a couple paragraphs ago I used the term “cleansing bars.” That’s because, legally, soap has to be made out of mostly oil, water, and lye. If it’s not, they have to call it something else, such as a detergent or “syndet” bar. That doesn’t mean that some companies don’t make actual soap and then put a bunch of other stuff in it. Dove soap is a great example. One ingredient is listed as “sodium tallowate,” which is just another way of saying tallow, or beef fat, that has reacted with the lye catalyst. Maybe not very delicious, but it is natural. But Dove also contains cocamidopropyl betaine, a synthetic surfactant. Likewise, Lush soap, even though we love its minimal packaging, contains SLS and parabens.

Organic soap has many other benefits

In the last part of this article, I’m going to talk about why organic soap is the best choice if you’re concerned not only about what sort of products you put on your skin, but also, the greater impacts of the production and disposal of those products. Organic soap is generally better for the environment, for animals, and for the local economy.

Better production

One reason organic soap is better for the environment is that its plant-based ingredients are grown without pesticides or chemical fertilizers. There is a ton of writing on why these substances are harmful so I’m just going to give a couple examples. Pesticides and artificial fertilizers can kill beneficial insects along with the ones that damage crops, they can harm other animals and plants, they can contaminate soil and water, and they can make people sick if they are exposed directly.

Better disposal

Another reason organic soap is better for the environment is that it breaks down easily after it is washed down the drain. Some of the ingredients that are bad for you in mass-market soap are also bad for fish and other organisms. Compounds such as parabens that mimic hormones are especially harmful, as they can disrupt these creatures’ life cycle.

Better for animals

Organic soap is better if you’re concerned about animals for a couple different reasons. For one, most organic soap is not made out of animals! There are some natural soaps that do use animal fat such as lard or tallow. If you’re looking to avoid these ingredients, check the labels, and look up the ingredients if you’re not sure. Sometimes ingredients are listed under names such as sodium lardate or sodium tallowate, which are the technical names for the free fatty acid salts that make up soap. Organic soap is also better for animals because usually, no animal testing is required. Organic soap ingredients are listed by the FDA as GRAS, or generally recognized as safe, and most new recipes are simply variations on older ones.

Better for the economy

Finally, organic soap has greater social benefits beyond personal safety and the environment. Most organic soap is made in small batches by local crafters. Studies have shown that the majority of money spent in local businesses stays within the community. At farmer or crafter markets, you can buy directly from the producer and attach a face to the product. And even if they don’t sell directly at markets, usually small-batch makers are more accessible than their corporate counterparts in case you have questions or suggestions for improvement.

Conclusion

After going through all these reasons, it’s easy to see why WECAREBEST organic soap is a great choice.

When we started, it was also the beginning of a larger maker movement, as producers and consumers shift back to smaller, more local, more unique products and better for your skin.

#Soap # Organic Soap #health #castile soap

#WECAREBEST bestcare.us

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ticklefits · 5 years

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Distant Yearning

AO3 LINK !

the adventure zone : balance | taagnus | words : 5364

summary : Magnus remembers Taako acting a little weird about something and it got him curious enough to ask about it, much to Taako's embarrassment.

“Hey, pst, Taako -- you up?”

It has to be at least two in the morning when the soft, yet audible rumble of vocals belonging to Magnus pierces the late night silence of the room. Unsurprising, Taako is awake, albeit not by choice ( insomnia’s a real burden ). Merle and Robbie, stationed messily underneath their blankets, remain in sound deep sleep; made obvious by the occasional gargantuan snores that drag from the dwarf’s mouth and the smaller ones from Robbie. At first, Taako ignores Magnus’s call, opting instead to stare at the nearest wall within the room’s darkness, groggy and somewhat agitated from the lack of a much needed repose. It’s only when the warrior addresses him again, and then a third time, that Taako raises his upper frame with the support of his elbows, leaning over the side of the wooden frame that separates each bed, to peer down into the bottom bunk and hisses out “Mags, it is two in the goddamn morning."

Magnus seems to stiffen at that, instinctively delivering an apologetic smile to the smaller elf . “Yeah, ah, my bad, but listen, something’s been weighing pretty heavy on my mind for awhile and it has to do with you.”

Those words alone cause the contents of Taako’s stomach to churn, a sense of anxiety already beginning to creep from the recesses of his mind. He forces himself to sustain his semi-irritated expression and conceal any display of how that singular sentence is already making him sweat with anticipation of what Magnus is going to say.

“...Well? Ain't got all night my man, spill the tea already.” Taako urges, all too impatient to hear what is so goddamn important about himself that Magnus couldn't have kept this in until a decent hour -- namely no sooner than noon .

The larger man's visage contorts in an expression that reads half curiosity and half apprehension, as if he has abruptly decided that maybe he shouldn't have mentioned anything at all. It's too late for that though; he's got Taako's nerves whirling around like flies at a summer barbeque and if he doesn't come out with it already, it's very plausible that Taako will end up forcing it out of him one way or another. He carries his own chest of secrets, the same as everyone else, and the fear that someone, somehow, might have unlocked it and discovered something detrimental about him, terrifies the absolute shit out of him. With another gesture of urgency, Taako finally persuades Magnus to continue on.

"Uh, okay, okay, well -- this might just be stupid, or I might've just been imagining things when it happened, y'know, 'cause lotsa stuff was sorta happening all at once and there was the void fish and it's great, big, everything and--"

"Magnus, you have one more chance - count it - one more chance to tell me whatever stupid thing you have to tell me before I put you back to sleep myself." But Taako did register hearing something about the void fish, which has only served to confuse him further. What could he possibly have to do with the void fish?

"Okay! Okay, okay, so… uh.. You remember when we first met Johann in the elevator? And he was super sad and I didn't know the reason why, but I wanted him to be happy like any ol' good citizen would?"

"... Yeaaah..?"

"So I tickled him." Taako has to clench the bed frame a bit to bite back a shiver at that word. " Normal reactions all around, except… I noticed you were acting a little.. Off?"

Oh gods. Oh gods. Oh gods. If Taako's suspicions and anxieties are true, then Magnus discovering this particular secret is probably one of the worst ones he could know. He delivers his best facade of indifference, simply nodding and allowing Magnus to continue - if he begins to act out again at the mention of it, it might set Magnus off.

"The first time, I was like, whatever, he's probably just weirded out, and that's fine, like that's definitely a Taako thing, but then when I did it again is when things kinda… I dunno, intensified maybe? That might not be the right word but."

The blond could only hope this was a dream. A horribly taunting dream where Magnus had unearthed one of his deepest secrets, that absolutely no one knew about him, that was so well concealed he couldn't even begin to piece together how someone could end up knowing unless Taako himself had screwed the pooch. He goes silent in his internal prayers for this all to be a scene of his imagination and hopefully, his insomnia will do its duty and kick in again, waking him before any additional embarrassment can rear its ugly head.

"You were fidgeting and looking away from Johann and I, but sometimes your eyes would flicker back to us, and then away again. I swear I even saw your lips twitching. And you had this look like you were… yearning? I dunno, like I said, it could be hella stupid and I could be reading way too much into things."

Quietude sustains from Taako, almost too far gone into his own thoughts and wishes for none of this to be reality, as Magnus single handedly picked apart every little subtle sign that Taako had unknowingly granted his vision with, as if the elf had lain daisies out for him to effortlessly pluck. If he were any less freaked right now, he could commend Magnus for his observational skills. Finally, Taako gulps down the lump that infiltrated his throat and constricted the breath he couldn't take while Magnus had been speaking, willing the sweat that was beginning to form at his temple to dry.

"I'm.. I'm pretty sure you're just grasping at straws, Mags. I was just.. Offput 'cause you… Did that to a total stranger." He bluffs, heterochromatic eyes rolling to attempt to emphasize his faux apathy towards the situation.

"Uh huh," Magnus hums, and his stare towards Taako is all of a sudden intense, as if peering deep beyond the lavender - jade of his irises, to see what the elf has hidden behind those long, thick lashes of his. "And so… what if I decided to do it to someone who isn't a total stranger?"

Taako's eyes widen. His breathing begins to cut short again and his toes curl under the blanket on instinct. What.. The hell is going on right now?

"What if I decided to tickle you?"

That's when Taako chokes. He chokes on fucking air, has to level himself after a brief, strangled coughing fit so as to refrain from waking up their other two roommates; the last thing the wizard needs is two extra idiots looking to embarrass him. His gaze returns to Magnus, incredulous in expression, with plump lips slightly agape and cheeks tinted in obvious roseate hues. It's been at least two minutes and he hasn't delivered any sort of response other than nearly asphyxiating himself on oxygen out of sheer surprise of the fighter's words. What's the point in even saying something like that? To get a reaction out of him? To cause him more chagrin than he's already suffering with? He doesn't possess the spoons to ask Magnus that question right now, especially with the way that amber eyes maintain that focused gaze on him -- Taako meets his line of sight for a second and instantly regrets the decision.

Butterflies assault the insides of his stomach, making it nigh impossible to look Magnus in the eye right now. Could he have… the same thing Taako has? Despite Taako's palpable discomposure in regards to it, he knows that while it isn't exactly a common thing, it also isn't something totally outlandish - especially compared to some of the other kinks has been unfortunately exposed to. His blush darkens against his will, finally, slowly, providing a verbal response to his still waiting companion.

"You… um.. Why would you even..?"

Magnus' features revert back a little bit, growing soft and curious once again. "Because… I'm kinda the same, I guess? It's kinda been a thing for me for awhile. I'm assuming it's like that for you too."

"I… I-I gotta say Magnus, I'm learning a lot more about you than I thought I would and that I think would rather not know." But there's bemusement in those words; a signal that means Taako doesn't really mean what he says. At least, not all of it. Magnus only releases a small, deep chuckle and shrugs his broad shoulders.

"I guess it'd be easier to say, that I couldn't really help myself when I started noticing the signs you were putting out. You have some really.. Kinetic energy. It was like… I could feel some sort of invisible pull from you."

That only darkens Taako's freckled cheeks even more. This entire conversation has been nothing but one giant trip for him , what with Magnus not only discovering his inclination for tickling but even bringing how own desire for it to light. What's even more wild? Magnus definitely wants to tickle him -- his eyes proved that he was practically hungry for it, and gods, Taako can still feel the goosebumps decorating his flesh from the sheer magnitude of the fighter's earlier peer. On one hand, this could be terrible. Sure, he and Magnus have some sort of weird, unspoken chemistry between them and it shows when they interact with each other. Magnus is steadily learning how to handle someone like Taako and it's crazy, Taako thinks, but at the same time, a… comforting sort of thought? On the other hand, Taako has been in the worst craving moods ever since he witnessed Magnus and Johann. Even before that, the elf would be burdened with the occasional craving and have no way of relief. Magnus could… maybe… become that outlet, and if what the other says is true, then Taako, could do the same for him in return.

Yet and still, he and Magnus have a long journey ahead of them and still many paths to cross and situations to deal with it… this sort of thing is more than just a silly prank or a playful way to tease to Taako. It's a very personal and intimate extension of himself, something not another soul has shared with him. Until this burly, dog loving dork anyway… and perhaps, this some kind of a sign.

A sign that his life is, finally, starting to shine brighter than he thought it could.

After what felt like hours of mulling over the thought, Taako speaks again. "... You know this isn't just some childish shit for me, right? It's the real deal." Without truly thinking about his actions, Taako's eyes flash at Magnus and are granted the same stare that he had earlier in return. " ---- Think you can handle that?"

Magnus had wondered for the longest time if he had overstepped his boundaries by his exposure and request, up until Taako's rebuttal of a challenge and suddenly, his fingers were twitching, apexes heating up with the urge to touch and stroke. Imaginably, his intentions in the beginning had been somewhat selfish -- but can he truly be blamed? For a gorgeous wildcard like Taako to have any semblance of submission towards a kink like this, especially one shared by him as well, it's honestly astounding. How can Magnus pass up this chance? It would be a whole crime to do so.

"I think the real question is if you can handle me." He shoots back and with the way Magnus' lips curl at the corners into an eager half smirk, Taako could melt into the mattress right on point. It's been much too long since someone was able to instill in him such avidity -- Magnus managed to do so in a one single sentence. At this point, he really isn't leaving Taako much of a choice.

".. I'd say tomorrow, but since it's already tomorrow Magnus, later today then. We'll see how good you are."

A chuckle breaches from Magnus, but he nods in agreement, "Looking forward to it," and with that, slinks back under the cover of the wooden frame of his bunk, leaving Taako to his own thoughts, whilst he too crawls back into his own bed -- though neither of them actually get much sleep from that point on.

The first sight of dawn rises over the horizon and a percentage of the b.o.b rises with it, including merle and robbie, neither of which find it especially necessary to wake their other two roommates for breakfast just yet and end up leaving them alone in the room. Magnus is the first to wake, groggily with a rugged yawn as he exits the bunk and stretches as far as his limbs will allow, animating refreshed muscles and joints. Upon renewed awareness, the fight distinctly recalls the conversation he had with Taako hours prior and his fingers suddenly flex on instinct, cheeks heating up if only for the realization that this was actually going to happen. Circling around, his gaze settles on the still sleeping wizard, observing him with a softness to his eyes that Magnus has yet to see another with; he seems so peaceful when he’s actually sleeping… beautiful, even. Magnus can peer at him up close and see just how long his lashes really are, how his freckles are bunched together on the bridge of his nose, but spread out over his cheeks and just keep going, covering his skin in various areas and varying degrees.. It appears so soft and smooth, and thought of being granted the opportunity to touch it as thoroughly as he will soon is enough to make his fingers flex again, impatiently this time, forcing him to hold back a chuckle at himself.

The need for a distraction is strong, so Magnus busies himself with dressing and locating the mess hall to gather up consumables for himself and for Taako too, considering he figures neither will be leaving the room much today. A short conversation with Merle and Robbie transpires, inwardly flushing relief when the two mention they have their own businesses to attend to and probably won’t be back for awhile. Magnus gives an acknowledging goodbye without telling either of them much of his and Taako’s affairs of course, and begins his tread back to the room with as much subtle swiftness as his large self can manage.

When Taako finally rouses from slumber, he yawns and stretches high, slender digits rubbing lightly at his eyes to rid them of sleep crust and adjust to the bright morning rays. With a lazy gaze around the room, he hoists himself up to look over the frame and comes to witness Magnus on the floor, setting out a few breakfast pastries and savory treats on two trays. He senses eyes on him and glances up to Taako, who in lieu gives him a wriggly - fingered wave, making Magnus smile and gesture for him to climb down. Taako nods and wastes no time in doing so, definitely perusing the food as his stomach growls in desire. Once out of bed, he sits cross - legged in front of the tray that isn’t already in front of Magnus and begins to chow down on what catches his eye. Magnus does the same, inviting a comfortable, though temporary silence between the two.

“Sooo…” Magnus begins once they’ve both finished their meal, unable to really look at one another in the eye, “Food was good.”

Flaxen gold locks sway lightly with Taako’s nod, smoothing out the wrinkled chiffon of his sleepwear, “..Yeah. Pretty good.”

It’s another few minutes of silence, before Magnus scoots himself around and closer to Taako, immediately invoking a settlement of heat to color the blond’s cheeks in anticipation. “Listen… I don’t wanna make you any kind of uncomfortable, Taako. This all sprang up pretty fast, so if you don’t want to do this, we definitely don’t have to and can act like last night didn’t happen if that’s what you want.”

That definitely isn’t what he wants; not in the slightest. The awkwardness that plagues the air around them isn’t exactly due to the coming act itself, but mostly from Taako’s own insecurities and the fear of vulnerability that approaches with this sort of thing. He trusts Magnus enough.. That isn’t the issue. He needs to be able to trust himself not to ruin something good before anything even occurs. A sigh through his nostrils breaks the impending tension that had been building while Magnus patiently waited for Taako’s answer, legs scooting so that his entire body faces the other and with a quick once over of Magnus, he extends both arms and offers them to the fighter. Magnus pauses, giving off a confused stare until he slowly lifts his own arms and mimics Taako’s motion with a small tilt of his head. A roll of his eyes ensues, but at least Magnus’ clueless has an amusing charm to it -- especially right now, helping to further evaporate some of the rigidity of the situation.

“No, dork -- touch me.” Taako lays his arms within Magnus’ open palms and the reaction from Magnus is immediate: a small “oh” sound, as if surprised, and a realization from his earlier ponderance does in fact conclude that Taako has really.. really soft skin. Unlike Magnus’ own flesh, which is scarred and calloused from his days of carpentry, to the battles of current times. Taako probably notices this too, from the thoughtful expression that perked his features once he actually felt Magnus’ fingers close around his smaller wrists. They remain like this, Magnus’s hands wrapped around Taako’s arms like loose handcuffs, simply getting a feel for his skin and determining a course of action. While brushing up the underskin of his arms, Taako squirms and a little whimper pulls from his throat before he realizes it. Magnus definitely takes notice of that reaction and repeats his action, watching with a blossoming delight at how Taako squirms a little bit harder that time and has to bite his lip to capture the noise before it leaks out again; however, it’s a little too late for that and timidness is suddenly out of the door.

Before Taako can truly register what happened, he discovers himself with the seat of Magnus’ lap, ample hands positioning themselves on his sides but haven’t dug in. Rose paints over freckled cheeks again, daring his eyes to rise and look at him questioningly, but words don’t come to formulate a verbal response. Magnus simply smiles down at him, half apologetic and half joyful. “Sorry.. I’m really trying to be patient, but you’re already killing me here.”

Even with the advantage of their positions, Magnus is still polite, respectful in his own way despite his seemingly growing impatience. Taako actually finds it really cute, endeared by the duality of the fighter’s morals. He relaxes against the other’s chest then, a signal to Magnus that he’s comfortable enough to permit him to do as he pleases (within reason) and Magnus isn't about to let the chance go to waste. Therein, his fingers commence their dutiful exploration, spidering along Taako's sides gently while moving in an ascending and descending motion. Taako's reaction is instantaneous, with choked giggles leaking from between plump lips that he binds in a tight line, attempting to keep the budding laughter captive within the hollows of his cheeks and throat -- obviously this doesn't pan out the way he had hoped. Especially when Magnus treads further south and hits a rather sensitive area: the sections of flesh at Taako's hips that separates meat from muscle, which has him squirming almost frantically and the giggles that bubbled from his chest, already amplifying into soft , full on belly laughter.

"M-Mahahagnus -- wait, wahahahit! Nohoho -- nooohohohot theeehehehere!"

"Not there? Not there… Oh! Oh, you mean, right here?" Magnus teases, delivering impish squeezes to each hip and earning the reward of a high pitched squeal from the elf writhing in his lap. It's invigorating to know that they've only just begun and Taako is already unraveling at the seams by his hands. Though momentary, he ponders whether the wizard's prior challenge was one of bluff, lack of experience, or he's so reactive simply because he truly is that sensitive. Whatever the case may be, Magnus is certainly soaking in every wriggle and giggle that blesses him.

"Aaahaa-! Mmmahahahaha, n-nooohohoho, stop, stahahahap!" Taako squeals while he continues to flail about, only to release a small squeak of surprise when Magnus does halt his tickling and glance up at him, a shy "I didn't actually mean that--" on the tip of his tongue, but the larger interrupts him before speech can form.

"Sorry, hold on, I should've asked before we started, I got carried away -- have you thought of a safeword? I know that when you say things like stop or no, you don't actually mean them, & that's fine and all, but I'm the type of guy that needs to have communication so I know when to really stop." He even temporarily removes his hands from Taako's hips, at which a whine leaks from the smaller's lips from the loss of contact.

"Um… if I'm being honest? No. I've never really had a need for one before now, I guess." Slender shoulders shrugged nonchalantly, his skin prickling with impatience at the continued lack of Magnus' fingers tickling away. The aforementioned fighter nods, a glaze of thought spreading over his features for a minute or so. "Alright… So, take a minute to think one up real quick. Then we can continue."

A whine nearly slips from Taako's lips at that, but he fathoms the importance of having a safeword for stuff like this. He can already tell from the concise amount of tickling Magnus has enacted so far that he'll definitely need one if things become too overwhelming. Additionally, Taako wholeheartedly appreciates the concern for his well-being. "That's a very Magnus thing of you to do." he teases him a bit, before actually mulling over what word to use. "Hm.. Ah.. Let's just use milk. Easy to remember, not stupid enough for me to be too embarrassed to call out."

Magnus smiles and as if in reward, plants his hands back upon the wizard's sides, beaming a little brighter when said wizard squeaks and rattles in his lap a little from the returned contact. "Sounds good to me. I'm gettin' back to it now." With that warning, thick extremities dig back into the skin of Taako's sides, garnering a prompt explosion of giggles and squirming once again. Even though Magnus hasn't done much yet, Taako's already gone extra sensitive, with little ripples of electricity riding his skin with every stroke and dip of the fighter's skilled fingers, causing Taako to actually wonder what he's gotten himself into.

"M-mmmahaa-! Mahaahahahahagnus, plehehehehease!"

"Pleeeease what? Change spots? Gladly." He's all too curious about the rest of Taako's body; even decided on a game -- a probably evil game, appropriately named: Find the Death Spot. To keep the elf from guessing his movements or next location, Magnus has one hand poking and prodding all over the expanse of his torso, while the other acts more strategically, utilizing claw rubs and squeezes to better assess Taako's sensitivity in that area. That hand hoists up from his hip, marking tickles along the way until Magnus reaches the top of his ribs and Taako absolutely loses it.

"N-no! Nonononohohoho! Oh gohohods, shit-! Shihihihihit, not thehehehere! Ah! Ahahaa--!" Taako's mouth hangs agape as laughter pours through like an even water flow, ringed hands pushing at Magnus' own halfheartedly, but the safeword never comes despite the rest of Taako's pleas, so Magnus simply attaches both hands that sweet spot and goes to town for a bit. In lieu, Taako tries to curl up and pull his knees to his chest to protect his ribs, but all that really does is trap the other's fingers in there, allowing him to work undisturbed by the elf's own attempts at pushing his hands away. He squeals when Magnus seems to punish him for his mistake by poking in between as many ribs as he can reach until Taako has to let his knees down so that Magnus can move positions -- if he even does.

"Y'know, it's pretty cute that your ribs are this ticklish. I think next time, I'll play them like piano keys and make you a fun little song. ~ ' The tease is completely dreadful and it brings a new splash of pink to Taako's cheeks, ears, and neck, to which Magnus is totally delighted to see. His laughter only seems to raise in pitch and volume with each passing minute; Taako hadn't the slightest idea that Magnus was this good! Honestly, who the hell has he been practicing on to be able to bring someone near to tears like this? It was wholly unfair, especially if you count in the fact they've only been at this for about ten minutes -- Taako had planned on making this last as long as he could manage, but with the tickling competence that Magnus is effortlessly dishing out right now, that wish isn't appearing very probable.

Magnus' chest suddenly rumbles with a curious hum and Taako knows that can't mean great news for him. He's trying to anticipate where and how Magnus will strike next, but he isn't granting him any hints, the big bully. His skin is on edge, zapped with extra ticklish just waiting for Magnus' fingers to act as conductors for the currents again; yet when all Taako receives are light spiderings over his stomach (enough to reignite his squeaks and giggles), a foreboding sense of trepidation occurs, like the calm before the storm. He feels Magnus deciding to migrate from his stomach and gulps at the thought of him attacking his hips again -- only to realize that he isn't stopping there, and instead, rests the flat of his palms right atop the meat of Taako's thighs, wherein the elf's face flares with heat and long, pierced ears twitch perceptively, daring to observe what Magnus does next.

He can definitely feel Taako's eyes bearing down into the backs of his hands, just bracing for whatever he ends up doing. It's a powerful feeling and Magnus is soaking it all up with a grin brightening his features. However, he doesn't move his hands yet, simply keeping their positions steady while leaning closer to Taako's ear. "-- Is this alright? I don't wanna touch you anywhere you're not comfortable with."

The wispy strands of Magnus' sideburns only tickle the hypersensitive skin of his ears, forcing Taako to snap down on his bottom lip from the threat of an embarrassing squeal trying to burst from his mouth. After a few moments, Taako finally deems himself calm enough to answer, though completely refuses to even peek in Magnus' general direction; in fact, one of his own hands goes to promptly conceal half of his face as he succumbs to abashment anyway. " … Do what you gotta do my man. Pretty sure I'm handlin' you better than you thought I would, huh? Hope you got more tricks up your sleeve than that."

Magnus can't refrain from laughing softly at Taako's hardass front -- he pretty much fathoms that's all it is, considering how much the elf has melted into him from the way Magnus' fingers have treated him thus far. That's just another part of Taako's charm, and if he's being honest, Magnus thinks it's cute as shit. It makes his fingers itch for another opportunity to make Taako squeal and laugh and eat the sass-laden words he just spoke. He proceeds to do just that, hands springing back to life with soft squeezes to the tops of Taako's thighs that already send him into frantic giggles and squirms.

"S-Shi--! Shihihihihihit--!" His hands push at Magnus', yet seem to be pin them down upon his skin rather than off. The fighter can't tell if that was intentional or not, but he certainly is going to make sure that Taako feels every result of his action. He digs into the sides the wizard's thighs in circular motions, alternating between faster and rougher or slower and softer, all the while dishing out the occasional squeeze and Taako absolutely loses it.

"MahAAAHAHAHAHA!" His laughter breaks free like a cracked dam with too much pressure and finally overflowing; it's loud, pitch and octave raising to a level Magnus didn't know Taako could achieve (honestly, neither did he) and for a second, he's worried that someone may hear him and wonder what the hell was going on for him to be screeching like he is. But Magnus can't find it in himself to care all too much -- and you wouldn't either if you got to see the same sight as him: Taako with nearly his entire visage painted in hues of rose, flushed ears flicking about in what he can only assume to be excitement or overwhelm, plump lips broken apart with a wide grin that showed every single pearly white and the best part of it all? Taako is absolutely glowing, even more so than his beauty normally is. Anyone would be able to clearly visualize how much he's genuinely enjoying this despite his half-hearted pleas for the larger male to cease. It's enough to bring Magnus a blush of his own, never wanting any of this to end.

Yet, when Magnus swears he hears the strangled, half-laugh, half-whine of the word milk, he halts all movement, immediately moving his hands off of Taako and setting them on his own thighs. He's still smiling, but it's softer and more apologetic than anything. "You okay, tough guy?" He teases, his voice is so gentle, almost barely above a whisper while Taako gulps down excessively deep breaths, taking back the oxygen that was stolen with every note of his guffawing.

"D.. Don't patronize me, ahahasshole… This is gonna be your f-first and only.. victory…" Magnus is silent for a minute, simply soaking up the fruits of his labor while the aforementioned elf still continues to pull an act even while looking and feeling as ruined as he is; combat or pranks wise, Magnus would have had a real reason to honestly fear what Taako's threats would entail, but for this? The ex carpenter knows he has a pretty significant advantage. Still, it's just as cute as earlier -- Magnus is having trouble refraining from nuzzling into the top of his head, knowing that wouldn't end well for him. So he simply settles for the view, leaning back as Taako regains his bearings. "Next time won't be so easy for you."

"... Oh. So there's gonna be a next time, huh?"

Taako glances back at him as if his sentence wasn't spoken in common, "What, you thought you were gonna win a one and done? Not on your life buddy boy, better exercise those fingers up 'cause you're gonna be bowing with hand cramps to the unbreakable Taako next time."

Magnus covers his mouth on a laugh, rolling his eyes a bit. "Oh yeah, lookin' forward to that mess."

A yawn interrupts the unbreakable Taako's next statement, his hand reaching up to block the breathy sigh that leaks from his mouth. "Mmm… but, for now, as next time's loser, your punishment is to hold me while I nap.." Taako's yawn was apparently infectious, noted so as Magnus releases one of his own, suddenly too tired to protest or argue that it's probably not the best idea to sleep in the middle of the afternoon. He wordlessly follows the wizard as he lifts off of his lap and makes a wobbly trail to the lower bunk where Magnus sleeps, unceremoniously flopping atop the mattress and curling underneath the blanket, with the bigger adventurer sliding in behind him. He spoons up against Taako, curling an arm around his waist to snuggle into him better, to which Magnus hears a low, grumbly, "And no funny business Burnsides."

"Wouldn't dream of it," comes the sleepy reply, but Taako doesn't see the smile upon his lips or the fingers crossed inside of his mind.

#taagnus #magnus burnsides #taako #taako taaco #taz #tickling #tickle fic #taz balance #the adventure zone #taako the wizard

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