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wondershawns · 4 years

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Hey can you do one..where u work with Shawn's team and reader and shawn like each other but dont wanna tell and rest of the team set reader up on a blind date with someone and shawn wasnt happy...but waited till the date was over confessed to her after her date.

A/N: This took me a while to write but ngl I haven’t proofread it so if some stuff makes no sense I’m very sorry. Thanks for sending this in!

Word count: 3041

Being Shawn’s PA was a good job. When you joined him on tour for the first time you half expected him to just order you to get things done for him without even saying please, but the rumours were true. Shawn was incredibly nice, he was a giant baby who had been thrown into the music industry at a young age and still managed to stay the grounded sweet man he was raised to become.

It was your dream job. His entire team was welcoming and friendly, you got to travel constantly, visit hundreds of cities and Shawn was the best person you ever had in your life. He was always with you, well, to be exact you had to say you were always with him, but it didn’t stop you from getting along perfectly.

You couldn’t get sick of him, he was your boss but he was also your best friend, he never treated you like you were only here for a job. He knew from months of touring and travelling that everyone needed to be close, you were all far from your families so for the time you were away you were each other’s family.

“Dave, I don’t need a date,” You exasperatedly rolled your eyes at the idea that was suddenly popping in everyone’s mind.

“You haven’t been on one in ages, come on, it’ll be fun,” The man encouraged you, his idea was brilliant in his mind and he couldn’t see how uneasy it made you.

“I can’t believe you set this up without telling me,”

“You’ll like him, he’s super nice, and worst case it’s just one date,”

“Were you all in on this?” You asked the rest of the band and sighed when none of them denied it. “Alright, I’m only going because you’re telling me last minute and I feel bad, but don’t ever do this again,”

“Sure,” Dave replied in a way that let you know he might, and you left the room to go get ready.

You got dressed in a blue blouse and your favorite trousers before looking at yourself in the mirror with a sigh. You put some makeup on, wondering why you were putting effort into this when your heart already belonged to someone else. You wouldn’t have to bother with that if you were with Shawn, he never cared what you looked like. He had a compliment to throw your way every single day no matter the outfit, no matter the state of your hair or your lack of makeup. You genuinely believed Shawn didn’t see things the same way anyone else did. He was a walking lie detector and he never stopped at someone’s appearance, you had suspicions that he might be able to read people’s minds or see in their hearts.

Whatever it was it made him himself. He could tell what someone’s intentions were after the shortest of conversations, but when it came to the people he cared about he was even more observant. He knew everyone’s tells, he barely had to glance at you to know how you were feeling. You had heard him asking you what was wrong a million times before you ever said anything that could have made him realise something was indeed wrong.

You had to get him out of your head before it got out of hands.

Maybe that date wasn’t such a terrible idea. You wouldn’t like the guy, you wouldn’t be interested, but it was a start to get over the one man you couldn’t have.

You were just done getting ready when Shawn knocked on the door that linked your two rooms. You had that in most hotels, it was just easier for both of you when he needed something.

“Wow, you look amazing, what’s the occasion?” He smiled when you opened the door.

“Dave set me up on a blind date,” You let him enter your room and sat on your bed to put your shoes on.

“What?” The singer struggled not to let his smile falter. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve got a date because Dave set me up with someone,” You reworded it and opened your purse to make sure nothing was missing from it.

“Oh, right now?”

“Yeah, my uber is almost here,” You checked your phone and saw the cars was less than five minutes away.

“Does Dave know that guy well?” Shawn frowned at the idea of you being set up on a date in a city you barely knew.

“Honestly I have no clue,” You didn’t get to ask questions, this was Canada and you just assumed Dave had some friends around here.

“Okay,”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” His concern made you uneasy about the date but the way he responded soothed you, you could always count on Shawn.

“Sure, anything,”

“Can you call me in an hour or two? Just so that I can use you as an excuse if I need to leave,”

“Of course, I’ll set a timer on my phone,” He did so immediately, half of him hoping he’d cut the date short and the other half hoping you would have a good night.

“You’re the best Shawn, I’ll see you later!” You checked your phone again and realised you had to get out of the hotel now.

“Yeah, see you,” He replied lamely while you walked away.

He let out a groan when he felt like you were far enough not to hear him. He was jealous and he didn’t even have any right to be.

His only consolation was to call you in the middle of the date, he almost made up an excuse to get you to come back but he felt bad for asking you to work when he didn’t really need you. He hung up as soon as you told him everything was okay and fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling while wondering why he couldn’t be the one on that date with you.

He knew all of your favorite foods, he could have picked the perfect restaurant. He had millions of things to talk about with you, memories from cities you visited together, movie theories you liked to exchange after you watched something together, lyric ideas he ran by you before he wrote them down. There was nothing he wanted more than to have dinner with you, just you. No obnoxious band members or friends that would disrupt the conversation, he just wanted time with you.

With your room right next to his Shawn wasn’t worried about not seeing you when you came back, he’d hear your door unlock easily. The hotel was quiet but the walls were very thin, he could hear you playing music on your phone while you showered this morning.

Instead of sulking in his thoughts Shawn grabbed his guitar and strummed, playing random chords without thinking. It helped him clear out his head before he opened his notebook and looked over lyrics and chord progressions he had written in there. He hoped writing would keep him busy until he could talk to you.

He had filled several pages of his notebook when he heard you come back, but not much of what he had written made enough sense to turn into a song. Maybe once he reflected over it he’d be able to talk about it with other writers in the studio to make something out of it.

He knocked on the door between your rooms before he could change his mind.

“Just come in!” You called out to him as you took your earrings off to replace them with the smaller ones you wore daily. “Hi,”

“Hey,” Shawn stood awkwardly for a few seconds. “How was it?”

“It was okay,” You brushed your hair and tied it up messily to get it out of your face.

“That doesn’t sound like the greatest night,” He closed the door of the joint rooms and leaned back against it.

“I wasn’t very interested in dating anyone when Dave set this up, so yeah... he was nice though,” You didn’t have a horrible night, you just felt like you had wasted your time. You would have much rather sat on your bed with Shawn to watch Netflix instead.

“Why not? I mean, you always say it’d be nice to have someone that cares,” Shawn had heard you talk about being alone before, it was something everyone went through at times, you weren’t the type of person who liked being on your own.

“Yes, I do,”

“But you don’t want to date?”

“Dating and finding a relationship are two very different things,” You pointed out as you went through your suitcase for something to sleep in.

“They are,” He hummed as he sat on the corner of your bed.

“So, any reason you’re still up? I thought you were exhausted earlier,” You asked as you went to the bathroom with your pajamas to change and left the door slightly open so that you could keep on talking.

“I just wanted to hear how it went,”

“Food was good, classic italian, thanks for the phone call by the way,”

“You’re welcome, it was nothing. Didn’t we say we had enough pasta for a lifetime though?” He brought up because after the shows in Italy you both had so much pasta you decided to eat just about anything else until the end of the tour.

“We did, it was an unlucky pick, I didn’t know what to say,” You chuckled as you came back from the bathroom, wondering how you could have explained that one.

“Yeah well he couldn’t have known,” Shawn shrugged, no one could have known, except him.

“I guess yeah,” You applied moisturiser to your cheeks and gently rubbed the product in before you put your glasses on to replace the contacts you had just taken off.

“Can I be honest with you?” He tried not to let himself get distracted by the side of you he loved the most, there was nothing he didn’t know about you and seeing you like this was just another reminder of how comfortable you were around each other.

“Of course Shawn,”

“I wish I could have been the one taking you out on a date,” He breathed out, deciding it was time he let his feelings out.

“Why have you never asked?” Your heart jumped but you replied quietly, unsure of what to do with the information.

“Because I’m more or less your boss and it felt really wrong to put you in that position,” It still felt wrong to him that he had said it.

“That’s fair,” You sat on the bed next to him.

“That’s fair?” He repeated, his eyes almost bulging out of his head.

“What?”

“I tell you I have feelings for you and all you reply is ‘that’s fair’?”

“You said you would have liked to take me on a date,”

“I would have liked and still want to take you on a date because I have feelings for you,” He clarified, so stressed his hands were shaking.

“Shawn, honestly… There’s nothing I’d love more than that,” Your heart fluttered at the idea of what tonight could have been like if you had been with him. “But like you said, you’re my boss, things could get messy quickly,”

“Yeah… I know,”

“I don’t even know what to say,”

“It’s fine, just… forget I said anything, you’re right,” He pushed himself up from the bed, he knew he fucked up. “I never wanted to put you in an uncomfortable situation because you work for me or whatever,”

“Shawn don’t leave,” You got up after him, catching his wrist so that he wouldn’t go. “Please,”

“What do you want me to say?” He sighed, turning to look at you and feeling the most insecure he had ever been in years.

“I don’t know, I really don’t but can we talk about this?” You pleaded. “If you go now we’re never going to have that conversation, I don’t want things to get awkward between us,”

“I don’t want that,”

“Me neither,”

“Don’t tell Brian I said that but… You’re my best friend when I’m on tour, and I just figured… what else could I ever be looking for in someone?” He moved to sit back on the edge of the bed. If you were going to do this he might as well put all of his feelings out once and for all.

“You’re my best friend too,” Your fingers brushed his but you didn’t take his hand.

“But you work for me,” He finished with a sad smile.

“Yeah,” You defeatedly looked away from him, opting to stare at the wall ahead of you instead.

“You know… We’ve always managed to keep our friendship and work separated, don’t you think that falling out as friends or falling out as a couple would happen for the same reasons either way?”

“I guess so,”

“So why can’t we at least consider giving it a try?” He wanted this to work, it terrified him but it felt right.

“Because this job is everything I’ve ever wanted, and if you and I start having any issues I’m going to lose that,” If Shawn had been nothing but your best friend you would have thrown yourself into his arms already.

“So now we’re just going to keep things the same while knowing we both want more? Unless I’m wrong, obviously,” He pointed out the flaw in your thinking, there was no way you could go back to normal now, there would always be a lingering ‘what if’ every time you would look at each other.

“You’re not wrong,” You didn’t where to go from there, you couldn’t go back yet you couldn’t bring yourself to let it move forward.

“I can make you a promise,” Shawn turned to look at you, waiting for you to do the same before he could continue.

“What are you talking about?” You frowned at the sudden idea that seemed to have popped up in his mind.

“You know I won’t break a promise, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” You had never seen him break one to you, no matter what it was.

“If anything ever happens I promise you I’ll write you the best recommendation ever and make sure you get a job you’ll love as much as this one,” He brought it up as a miracle solution, it really wasn’t one but it provided you with a sense of security. Shawn knew he’d never want you to leave his tours or his life.

“Shawn, I love this job because I love…” You caught yourself and thought your sentence over carefully. “I love this job because I’m working with you,”

“We make an amazing team,”

“Yes we do,” You broke eye contact when you rubbed your eyes for a second.

“Please give me one chance, one date and then you can decide if it’s worth it. If you think it’s not I’ll back off,”

“If I go on a date with you I’ll always want to go on another one,” You chuckled, staring at your hands for a few seconds. Shawn remained silent, waiting for you to be done thinking, and you answered him after a deep breath. “Okay, one date,”

“Tomorrow after the show?” His smile took up half of his face as he tried to figure out what he should plan. “I’ll ask Jake,”

“What about Andrew?” Security was one thing but you knew his manager wouldn’t let this slide easily, Shawn was on a tight schedule daily and he had to rest after every show.

“Oh hell no I’m not telling Andrew, he’s going to murder me for this,” He laughed, refusing to care about that now that he finally had some good news.

“He’s going to find out at some point,” You would never be able to hide it, it’d be too obvious if you both disappeared together and Jake would tell the truth.

“He’ll get over it,”

“Says the one who can’t get fired,” You snorted, he was irreplaceable, his face and name were on every poster. Yours weren’t, finding a new PA would be easy.

“Honey if you’re quitting this tour then I am too, Andrew can’t afford to lose me, you’re all good,” He laid out the perfect plan. “Besides he won’t be that mad,”

“How red do you think his face will become?” You bit back a grin when you thought of the lecture you’d both get for this.

“Honestly? I think he’ll turn green,” Shawn snickered at the scenario, he’d get told off but it’d be so worth it, everything was worth it when it came to you.

“Ten dollars,”

“You’re on,” He shook your hand to seal the deal, you bet on things constantly and he knew he had good chances of winning this one.

That was all it took for you to go back to normal. The conversation shifted to regular subjects and you laughed for a while together and you finished getting ready. Shawn stayed until you brushed your teeth, and even then he kept on talking without being able to understand your answers.

“I said,” You rinsed your toothbrush and dried your hands. “Go to sleep, you’ve got an interview tomorrow and Anna can only do so much to hide the bags under your eyes,”

“Yeah yeah,” He dismissed it like he didn’t care but he was forever thankful for the wonders his makeup artist could make happen. “I don’t wanna take your beauty sleep away from you, not that you need it anyway,”

“Are you done with the corny jokes? I do need sleep right now,” You laughed at him but he shook his head.

“I’m done for now but be ready for tomorrow night,” He grabbed your hand and pulled you into a tight hug. “We’ve got a date,”

“Yes we do,” You squeezed him against you for a second. “Now go,”

“Goodnight honey,” He stepped away and kissed your forehead, his hand still holding yours. You almost pulled him back when he went to let go, but you let your hand slide away instead and gave him one last smile.

“Goodnight Shawn,”

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buckyreaderrecs · 4 years

Text

A Toast to Whiskey: Chapter 2 / 2

CLICK TO READ PART ONE

Summary: You work in an old bar hidden away from the modern world. It’s almost charming, but not quite. That’s probably why Bucky likes it.

Part 2: Steve finds Buck, then you. Lush! Bucky and a cat! Christmas! Domestic bliss!

Words: 10,093 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker Additional tags: Bucky needs a hug, recovering Bucky, mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), angst, she/her pronouns, brief mention of Nazis, mention of suicide attempt (no scenes of it though), medium level discussion of Bucky’s past trauma, Peter is mentioned and has one line, v briefly mentioned: Sharon/Peggy/Sam/Wanda/Pepper, friendship with Steve, Lush Cosmetics, Steve/Bucky friendship

Dedicated to: all the people that helped brainstorm Christmas gifts - @browngirlmagic @megthemewlingquim @pinnedandneedled @cosmicbreathe @headmistressofbitchcraft @valkyriesryde

Note: When I thought of this fic, I split it into two parts that were meant to be equal. Part one was 2,325 words. This one is 10,093. I am sorry. Lol.

A Toast to Whiskey Chapter 2 / 2

To say you missed Bucky's presence was an understatement. It was kind of remarkable, actually. Considering how quiet he was, how he mostly just sat, it seemed strange to miss him so deeply, but that you did. He'd been in your life for months. To have him suddenly not there was a lesson in soft brutality. Others noticed too.

"Miss ya boyfriend there, missy?" the regulars teased.

"Where'd that mystery man get to then?" co-workers asked.

When two weeks Bucky-less came and went, you finally resigned to the fact that maybe you'd just have to let it go. You'd have to stop wondering if The Avengers had a phone number. You'd have to stop taking detours wherever you were going just to pass Stark Tower in the hopes you'd cross paths with Bucky. You'd just have to… stop.

Then the most surreal thing happened. Captain fucking America walked through the bar's door.

It was around midday on a Friday. You'd just opened up and were still pulling chairs from the tabletops from where they rested overnight. A few regulars were sat at the bar, waiting for their table to be set up over by the television screen. They paid no mind to Steve Rogers as he stepped into the dimly lit room, the streams of light he briefly let in highlighting the dust particles in the air.

When you saw him, your stomach dropped and your heart jumped out of your mouth. As Steve approached, you stumbled backwards, recollections of all bad news delivered before flashing in your mind.

Please, no.

"Hi. Are you Y/N?" he asked. When you managed to nod your head, he continued, his voice calm. "I'm-"

"I know. Is he okay?" you interrupted.

Steve had been interrupted many times. He was used to it. Another thing he was unfortunately accustomed to was giving people bad news.

"Yes. We’ve found him-"

"He was missing?!"

The volume of your voice drew attention from the people at the bar. "You right there, Y/N?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, yeah, Dave. Thanks. I'm alright."

Looking back to Steve, you caught the last split second of a smirk being willed off his face. "Y/N," Steve started. "Buck doesn't… doesn't know I know about you. But…"

"Where is he?"

"He's fine. He's at the Tower," he answered, his hands coming up in a defensive position. "Look, Y/N. I think he needs a friend…"

"What are you?" you snapped, suddenly blaming Steve for whatever had happened.

There was silence while you watched each other, working each other out.

Steve had not purposefully set out to spy on Bucky, or anything of that nature. In passing Peter Parker had said, "Mr. Rogers Captain Rogers Sir," and told him how he thought it was super cool that Bucky Barnes' local pub was across the road from a place Peter sometimes bought bubble tea from. It sparked curiosity that Steve ignored for as long as he could. But it got the better of him.

"I'm his best friend. But you've been given me a run for my money for a while. He spends more time in here than with the rest of us combined."

You thought about that for a second. Fuck, that was sad. "That means he spends a lot of time alone,"

"Yeah… Think that's been the problem…" Steve replied slowly.

Out of nowhere, Steve's composure changed. In a motion too fast for you to track, he pulled a chair off a table and sat. His elbows were pressed into his thighs and his head was in his hands. He groaned a little, then sat up straight, looking right at you.

"Buck… he… he does it sometimes. Disappears for a few days. No communication. He's always come back though. And it's only ever been a for a few days… This time, after a week we got worried…"

"You found him though," you pressed, annoyed at the pace of Steve's story.

"We found him. He wasn't in good shape, Y/N. I don't think…"

When Steve had walked in, you thought that something had happened to Bucky on a mission or something like that. The worst case scenario, of which you had only entertained for the shortest of times, was that Hydra had been lurking in the shadows, waiting.

Another possibility became painfully apparent at the end of Steve's trailed off sentence. Somehow, the thought of it hurt more than all the others.

Steve could see it on your face you knew what he was trying to say. You needed to hear it though. It was the only way it could be real.

"He wasn't planning on coming back."

Bucky wasn't planning on running away either. It was the metaphorical end of the line for him. Like so many times before, Bucky Barnes had forgotten to factor in Steve bloody Rogers. Saved by his best friend yet again, Bucky had woke up in a clinically clean room in Stark Tower. If he thought it was hard to get drunk, trying to kill himself was even harder.

You knew there was no comparing your friendship with Bucky to Steve's. There hadn't been a friendship in the history of humankind that could compare. Making Steve say it out loud wasn't kind, but it wasn't unnecessary cruelty either.

"Will you come see him?"

…

You thought you'd known weird. Turns out, nope. Being escorted into Stark Tower by Steve Rogers was weird. Being full body scanned by technology you couldn't begin to comprehend was weird. Feeling so, so much about someone you barely knew was weird.

All the weird became secondary to a rushing wave of relief at seeing Bucky Barnes. The wave met a tall, unmoveable wall very quickly. Bucky wasn't awake. Steve sat in a chair next to Bucky's bed and motioned for you to take the one on the other side.

Bucky was pale, lips chapped and hair stringy. Someone cared for him though. Although messy, the hair was tied back in a bun. There was a tube of chapstick sitting on the bedside table.

The sheet was pulled up under his arms. He was in a thin, white singlet. You'd never seen his vibranium arm; he'd always been in jackets in the bar. He'd always worn gloves, even after it was apparent you knew who he was. The scars on his body were confronting, but you had to file that away for a later day.

"Fuck," you finally said on a breath out.

Steve nodded in deep agreement.

"He's gonna wake up." You'd meant it as a statement but it definitely curved up too much at the end.

"He will," Steve confirmed. "He's lost a lot of blood… They tried blood transfusions but his body… The serum in him is too unstable. It made him worse. We just have to wait. He'll heal himself,"

"Okay," you said softly as you shuffled the chair closer to the bed.

As you took Bucky's hand in yours, you thought what all people do when they're bedside like that. Can they hear me? Do they know I'm here? You rubbed gentle circles across his skin with your thumb.

For a while, Steve was still, then he too dragged his chair across the floor. He got as close to the bed as he could, then folded an arm on the mattress and rested his head. You watched him look up at his best friend. Steve reached out with his free hand and gently stroked Bucky's cheek once, then settled in for the wait.

…

Sleep was uneasy, but it came. When you uncurled your body from the chair, you were alone with Bucky. He hadn't moved, hadn't dreamed. He wasn't really asleep but in some sort of super soldier serum limbo that you hoped to God wasn't a form of Hell.

It was only about ten minutes before Steve arrived back in the room. He came bearing gifts - coffee and a doughnut.

"Did you think he was going to wake up, like, when I got here?" you asked.

Steve shrugged. He'd changed clothes at some point while you slept. Grey track pants and a white t-shirt. Comfy. Casual. Not very Captain America but you guessed, pretty Steve Rogers.

"No. Yes. I don't know… We don't know when he'll wake up… I just thought he'd want to see you,"

"Do you think he comes and proper hangs out with me? Because he doesn't. He just kinda…"

"I know. Buck's never been that much of a talker. Even before. Doesn't stop him from being charming," Steve said.

"No… it doesn't. Guess he wouldn't come to see us if he didn't wanna," you reasoned, thinking about the awkward prospect of Bucky waking up and asking why the bartender was there.

"He wouldn't, no," Steve agreed.

Silence was comfortable with Steve, which was a blessing because you sat watching the television with him for a couple of hours. That's when you really took in the room beyond Bucky and the bed. It was a strange mix of hospital and home.

When you had arrived earlier, the elevator delivered you to a sweeping hallway. It didn't give much away in terms of what the function of the floor was. Stark Tower was multi-purpose. Very multi-purpose. It was head office to an ever-growing business. It was science and technology laboratories. It was home base for The Avengers. Those were the things the public knew the building did.

On the list of suspected functions included primary home of Tony Stark. Correct, although he had many other properties. Pepper was trying to sell some without Tony knowing. The Tower had to house weapons too, as the headquarters of The Avengers. Correct. Definitely in the upper limit of what was legal. Where did all The Avengers live? Where did the ones from space stay when on Earth? Theory was the Tower. Correct. Many, but not all, superheroes affiliated had very large, very beautiful private spaces in the Tower. I surely had to have its own medical wing. Incorrect. It wasn't a wing.

Stark Tower had its own dedicated floor for bio and med. Cutting edge research. Direct and tailored medical support. And that's where you had found yourself. A hospital room, spectacularly disguised as comfortable. Regardless of the armchairs by Bucky's bed and the huge flat screen, it wouldn't ever not smell like bleach.

By mid-morning, it became apparent that this wasn't Sleeping Beauty and Bucky wasn't going to wake up just because you were there with all your true... whatever.

"What's the plan?" you asked.

Steve sighed hard, stood from the chair and stretched. Your attention stayed on Bucky, but when Steve failed to answer, your eyes flicked to him. He seemed very agitated by not knowing what to do. He couldn't Captain America his way out of this one.

"You're welcome to stay. There's a room next door. We can take shifts… Or if you want to head home I can call when he wakes…"

"I'll stay," you decided quickly. Nothing else seemed as important.

…

Two days later, you'd gotten more sleep than you would have predicted. The room next door to Bucky's was another designed for the injured, but it doubled as a hotel room just as well. The bed was comfortable and nobody disturbed you when it was your turn to rest. You and Steve shared takeaway and swapped stories. It was nice to find a real human beneath the public image.

Steve could see why Bucky had continued to gravitate back towards you. You made him feel normal. And he almost came to enjoy the routine you and he had fallen into, keeping watch of Bucky. Then, as you were throwing grapes across the room, aiming for Steve's mouth, you both heard him.

Bucky mumbled a very groggy, "Fuck," as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Buck?" Steve called, appearing at the bedside in a second.

You walked over more slowly, carefully. What if he did think it was strange you were there?

Bucky tried to move, but Steve put his arm across him. "Nope, Pal. Stay right there,"

"Lemme up, Steve," Bucky said, still groggy.

Steve folded, moving away so Bucky could sit up. He rubbed his face, his unshaved jawline. You almost thought he hadn't noticed you, but then, "How long have ya been spying on me then?"

Bucky looked at Steve, raised his eyebrows.

Neither you nor Steve had ever been in this specific situation before. No script for what someone waking from a suicide attempt should do or say. But you were both shocked by Bucky's… normality. He'd just sat up like it was another day. Not like he'd run away, hurt himself, never said goodbye.

"What the absolute fuck!" Steve whispered. Was it to himself or to Bucky? You were unsure. Bucky just stared at him, expressionless. "That's not- How could- Jesus, Buck. What were you thinking?"

You cringed, knowing it was the wrong thing for Steve to say.

"What was I thinking?" Bucky repeated.

There was a second of silence. Two. Then Bucky just ripped the covers off, swung his legs out of bed and stood up. He looked down at himself, then up at you. It was the first eye contact you'd had since he woke, and it caught the breath in your lungs and swallowed it up.

"Hey, darlin'," he greeted softly. He'd never called you that before. Before you knew it, he'd closed the space between you and had pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Sorry for all the fuss,"

"Ahh…" you started to say, but he was already walking away.

"Bucky!" Steve yelled, following him through the door. "Where are you going? We need to talk," he urged.

Feeling very out of place, you just followed Steve, hoping sticking close to him would lead you back to comfort.

"Steve, look," Bucky said, spinning on his heels. "I know, alright… I know… But I need… I can't be here. This place is drivin' me crazy… And I'm already ten different types of that,"

"Where are you going to go?" Steve asked, his voice smaller and sadder than it had just been.

Bucky shrugged casually, almost comically.

"You scared the shit out of me,"

"Not the first, won't be the last," Bucky joked, deflected.

"It could have been."

That made Bucky shut up. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Steve.

"But it wasn't. Someone needs to stick around to look after your stupid ass," Bucky said.

"Then stick around."

If you felt out of place before… Watching the two men hug then step away from each other, you could feel the weight of their history in the air. It was oppressive and you were honestly in awe. Then, before you knew you were even speaking, you just squeaked out, "You can stay with me."

…

Bucky had taken you up on the offer like he wasn't an ex-prisoner of war with decades of trauma just sitting below the surface of his crumbling composure. He'd disappeared upstairs to change and grab a bag or two, leaving you and Steve standing in utter shock.

"Are you okay?" you asked as soon as Bucky was gone.

"I… Christ, I don't know, Y/N. That wasn't normal was it?"

You laughed then. "I don't fucking know. Do you mean for someone who just… or for him? 'Cause you're meant to the expert,"

"Not anymore apparently," Steve said, more hurt than bitter.

"I'll… try to…" You were going to say 'look after him' but the concept of looking after Bucky Barnes seemed ridiculous. Steve had kinda just proven that.

Steve looked defeated, so you did the only humanly right thing to do. You pulled him into a hug. He welcomed it.

"Thought when we brought him home he'd be alright," Steve mumbled into you. "Stupid,"

"Not stupid. Just hopeful. I… Look, I don't know what…"

"I know. Sorry. Sorry, Y/N. I've just pulled you into all this when you were just-"

"No, no. It's okay. I… I'm glad I'm here. He can come stay with me. Make a plan or something. Does he have a doctor or anything?"

The enormity of the situation dawned on you both then. The complexity of it stunning you into silence. Bucky had gone through abject horror and hell and he'd survived. His body had been stitched and sewn back together. His brain had been rewired, given back to him. But now what? Nobody had really thought of that.

…

Bucky was back to his cap-wearing, strong and silent type on the way over to your apartment. Through the doors, he dropped his bags and looked around.

"I'll make some tea," you said quietly, leaving him to introduce himself to the space.

Your apartment was on the third floor of a pretty old block of units. The space was small. Sometimes it was too small for just one bartender… And yet, Bucky didn't seem too big for the space. From the kitchenette you watched him walk from the front door across the open-plan space. He glanced at the bed, probably wondering where exactly you planned on keeping him. Bucky stood at the window, surveying the view.

"How do you take your tea?" you asked.

"However," he replied.

Frowning, you shook your head. "That's… not… What do you mean?"

Bucky turned, smiled, almost confused at your confusion. "Not picky,"

"Everyone has a preference."

He just shrugged.

"No… Come here. Sit down," you ordered.

Bucky smirked. He considered it for a second, then strode over to the kitchenette and sat at the small breakfast bar.

"Take your fucking cap off. This is your home now so you can drop the weird mysterious guy thing," you told him, putting four mugs out on the bar.

Bucky chuckled and obeyed. "Didn't Steve tell ya to be gentle with me or somethin'? Don't cha know I'm all messed up?"

You could hear it in his voice that he was taking the piss.

"There he is," you said, smiling. "Alright. I'm gonna make four teas, alright? You're gonna try them all and you'll know which you like best,"

"Don't think it matters, Y/N. It's just tea,"

"It's not. It's not just tea. It's… it's about preference. You can have things the way you want."

Bucky watched you pour the boiled water, brew the teas.

"I don't want someone else tryna fix me," he said seriously.

You pushed milk and sugar towards him. "If Captain America can't fix you, I don't think anybody can."

Bucky took the mug and held both palms to it. You wondered if he could feel the warmth in his left. (He could.)

"Then why am I here?" he asked, going to sip the tea.

You paused, trying to think of a good answer to that question.

Thinking.

"I… don't know… One minute you're sitting at my bar drinking whiskey. Next minute you're… in my house drinking tea… I have no fucking idea how this happened."

He made a face, pushing the mug back across the table. You swapped it for milk no sugar.

"It's a bad idea. Me being here."

Bucky tasted the tea and let you swap it again. No milk no sugar.

"Then why are you here?"

"Ain't that what I just asked you?" he quipped.

No milk sugar. And an unimpressed look that made him laugh.

"I'm here because since I've been stateside I've just wanted to… I don't know. Rest. Take a fuckin' second. Feel normal… First time I've felt normal was in your bar drinkin' your whiskey,"

"…What about my tea?"

"Also works… Milk and no sugar."

…

Bucky didn't make any jokes about how tiny your place was. After tea, small talk, you handed him the television remote, threw him a blanket and told him to make himself at home. You both went about your nights individually, but side by side. After all the tension of Stark Tower, it was overwhelmingly relaxing. There wasn't a moment where you asked yourself if it was stupid to let someone as dangerous as Bucky Barnes into your home. There wasn't a moment of reconsideration. It was just… easy from the first night.

"Buck, that sofa folds out bigger," you told him, climbing into your bed after showering and getting into P.J.s in the bathroom.

Bucky, who was still in the jeans and henley shirt he'd changed into at the Tower, glanced over. "You going to bed?" He sounded scandalised.

"Sorry, Jesus. Some of us haven't been asleep for days."

Bucky laughed. "Brave joke, darlin'."

There it was again, that nickname. Was it chosen or did it slip out when he wasn't watching his words?

In the morning, it was like you'd spoken in your sleep, conversed with each other and decided on a routine. Bucky was standing in the kitchenette when you woke. He'd clearly been for a run; his headphones hanging around his neck and his runners still on his feet. He was cooking.

"Hey," he greeted when you made your way over, sitting down. "Wow. Can see why you work at a bar. Not a morning person."

Your morning expression was one part deep confusion about not still being asleep, and one part anger about not still being asleep. Bucky kinda loved it.

As you ate bacon and eggs with him, you tried to process how you got to that point. It seemed like a fruitless task. Up until Bucky, your life was… well, it was easy to explain. Doing A resulted in B happening. A simple story. Then, Bucky. Doing A resulted in nothing, and suddenly Z was happening out of nowhere. Like, Jesus Christ, stuff like that just didn't happen. But the coffee was really truly being poured and Bucky was really truly just… there.

…

You went back to work quickly; you'd used up too many leave days sitting by Bucky's hospital bed. Picking up a couple of extra shifts in that first week Bucky was at yours, you hardly had time to really talk to him. He was a ghost in your home for all intents and purpose. It worried you. Each time you left the apartment, you'd try to find a new way of checking he was okay, that he'd be there when you got back.

"Are you doing anything today?"

"Seeing Steve later?"

"Not planning on trying to hurt yourself today?"

Bucky recognised the concern in your voice. It was the same tone he used to take with Steve before everything happened. It was the same tone Steve used on him now. Goddamn those turning tables. He did his best to be reassuring without lying to you. He felt he owed you that much, at the very least.

What else did he have to offer though?

That's when it started. Bucky Barnes turned into your bodyguard, personal chef, housekeeper, and handyman. When you realised it was part of him trying to cope, settle in, be okay, you just let him do it. You'd never won any fights to try to stop him. And, you kinda liked it.

He'd be lingering out the front of the bar when you locked up. Bucky would walk you the two streets home, mumbling "Can't believe you do this alone," the whole way. If he was early for pick up, he'd come in and put chairs on tables. He mopped once. The task was completed with frightening efficiency.

By the end of the week, the apartment was spotless. What did the Winter Soldier look like holding a feather duster? Had he read the spines of all the books on the shelves? Was the television on while he cleaned, or was he a music kind of guy? You could have sworn you saw him narrow your eyes when you left an empty dish on the coffee table.

"You went food shopping?" you asked stupidly one morning, waking up to the sound of Bucky unpacking groceries. He raised an eyebrow, went to provide sass, but you put a hand up. "Don't! Just… make me some coffee, please."

As he placed the mug on your bedside table, he gently ruffled your hair - the only part of you poking out from under the covers. "Got work?" he asked.

"Yeah. Closing. Don't start till 7," you answered, emerging into the daylight of the morning… Of the almost-afternoon, you learnt as you checked your phone. "What you got planned?"

"Same thing I've been doing all week, Y/N."

He was back in the kitchenette, folding plastic bags neatly into a pile.

"There's a bag under the sink full of other bags. Don't need to fold them," you told him. He looked up at you; when would you stop over-explaining things, he wondered. "It's like, a thing everyone has. The bag of other bags. And a messy Tupperware cupboard,"

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, a little amused.

"No! I just woke up and it's too bright and you're folding plastic bags. Are you okay?"

Bucky shrugged. He did that a lot, sometimes accompanied by a twitch of a lip curl. Sassy bastard.

"So when you say 'same thing you've been doing all week,' you mean clean and watch T.V.?" you asked, sitting up and plumping a pillow to act as a headboard. Bucky waited until you'd picked up the coffee and were looking back at him before he nodded. "How about we just… hang out,"

"Hang out?"

"Yeah. 'Cause I don't wanna move from here until I absolutely have to. So we can watch stuff on my laptop and stay in bed and Ubereats something fancy." When he failed to reply, you added, "You deserve a chill day."

Bucky crossed the space and dramatically flopped down on the bed. "Just exchanged one bossy boots for another, huh?"

"Really pretty, well-meaning bossy boots, yeah!"

…

Bucky was sitting in the window, patting a black cat you'd never seen in your entire life. He looked over when the front door closed behind you.

"Hey," he greeted, voice soft so not to startle the cat.

"Who's your friend?"

"Dunno… She was just out here when I got out the shower,"

"Right… Well, say goodbye and come inside. Got something for ya."

Bucky left the window open, and the cat remained out on the fire escape.

Inside, Bucky plonked himself on the sofa and watched you unpack things from the large paper bag you'd brought home. Bucky's bright eyes sparkled with curiosity and you could tell he could smell something unfamiliar.

When everything was unpacked, you looked at Bucky.

"This is gonna sound so dumb. I know that. But just bear with me, okay?" Checking to see if Bucky was taking you seriously, you saw his focus was on you entirely. "I… I cannot even begin to comprehend what it must be like being you. It's… It's fucked. It's fucked even in the context of superheroes and aliens and all of it… I don't know how you do it and I know it's hard and I have no idea if you're… Like, okay? Or getting better? Or if being here is helping at all but I wanna help. I want to do something for you but I know I can't do anything like, proper. I can't… I don't know… So I thought maybe I can help in a different way. In a kind of shallow… ah, superficial way? So that's what this is."

Bucky was trying to keep his expression neutral.

Bucky also didn't know how he continued to exist. Sometimes he thought it was because he felt he had to make up for what the Winter Soldier did. Save a life for each taken. Balance the books. Sometimes he thought maybe he was just superhumanly resilient. Maybe he was just more okay than made sense, and that was fine. And sometimes, like in those days he went missing, he thought he had no right being on Earth any more.

"I… I don't know what this is," Bucky started, motioning to the table of unidentifiable objects. "But you're already doin' more than enough. Me being here is helping. You give me space," and at that, you snorted, but he continued, not letting you redirect the conversation like he was so good at doing. "It's the only thing that I know helps. It helped in Wakanda. It's helping here."

In the quiet of three seconds or so, you and Bucky watched each other, testing each other's honesty. You had to trust each other, which was hard. But it was happening.

"Okay," you whispered when you grew too hot under his gaze.

"What's all this then?" Bucky asked, sitting up straight and putting his best version of 'excitement' on his face.

"This is… treat yo' self, self-care. You look after your insides, I'll look after your outsides,"

"My outsides?" he said, tone suggestive and eyebrow raised.

It made you blush.

"Skincare. Haircare. That kind of thing… It's from a store called Lush and I'm a bit obsessed. They invented the bath bomb!"

Bucky set his expression to 'I'm giving you nothing' and crossed his arms across his chest. "Bath bomb?"

"Yeah… They're these… things you put in the bath… It fizzes and makes it smell nice and look cool and is good for your skin and stuff. I didn't get one because we don't have a bath…"

You thought you were losing him, but that's just what he wanted you to think. He was wildly interested in whatever it was you were trying to sell him. He didn't hate the idea of skincare, haircare, and whatever else was going on in those little black pots. He'd looked after himself so well in the 40s. His hair was always perfect. Wasn't caught dead with too much stubble.

"I got like, a full routine for us to do together… If you want…"

Bucky liked the pronouns you were using. …we don't have a bath. …routine for us.

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

It caught you off guard. You hoped it was a rhetorical question. Blushing hard, you broke eye contact and looked at your Lush haul.

"So, you're in?" you asked quietly, pretending to read one of the labels.

"Yeah, doll. I'm in. Where's my fluffy robe?"

Squealing in happiness, you jumped up. "No robes, but pyjamas, yeah?"

Bucky took the bathroom and you took the… bedroom/loungeroom/kitchen/rest of the apartment. Once together, you put on old episodes of Golden Girls and sat Bucky on the couch. He watched as you run about finding all the perfect bowls and towels. When you had the random-under-the-sink bucket filled with hot water, you returned to him.

"Okay. First, we put on hair and face masks. I got this hair one 'cause it kinda smelt like chai latte." You opened the pot and let him smell it.

"Never had a chai latte…" Was his only response. He read the pot, "H'Suan Wen Hua… Chinese,"

"You know Chinese?"

"I know a lot of languages," he replied.

"Hmm… Okay, well, do ya want me to do this or do you want to?" you asked.

Bucky looked genuinely confused. "Do what?"

You hadn't wanted to assume Bucky would be cosmetic-clueless, but maybe it was better to just play spa. Let him sit back and relax and you do it all for him. The thought of that was both terrifying and exciting.

"Sit back. Watch T.V. Lemme do this."

And that's just what he did.

You could literally see him relax into the sofa as you saturated his hair with the treatment, massaging it into his scalp then pinning it all on top of his head in a curl, secured with a clip. If you had been able to see his face, you would've seen him biting his bottom lip, holding in a bigger reaction to the feeling of your fingers raking through his hair.

For the longest time, he'd only known touch to equal pain or death. After that, it was the tentative hands of doctors and Steve's sometimes suffocating arms. But you… you were a whole different kettle of fish. You, he could get used to.

When you jumped onto the couch next to him, it looked like you startled him out of a daze. Bucky seemed happy. It made you happy.

"Alright. Face mask. I got two different ones because the one I like kinda smells fucked but in a good one. Here, smell," you ordered, shoving an open pot of very garlicky Cosmetic Warrior under his nose.

He frowned like a child. "Smells like what Sarah made Steve eat when he was sick,"

"That's cute. But yeah. It's strong. Try this one."

Mask of Magnaminty was more his thing. Mint was a familiar smell. Bucky sat very still as you gently painted his face with the cool green goo.

"You can smile," you whispered as you watched him try to conceal a grin. "Feels nice, huh?"

"It's… different," he agreed.

It was quiet. Bucky watched the concentration on your face as you carefully finished the job. When you tapped his nose, complete with an audible "Boop!" he laughed.

Fuck, his laugh was spectacular. Maybe it seemed golden because it was a rare thing. Maybe because the action made the corner of his sparkly blue eyes crinkle. Maybe just because you liked him. A lot.

"'Kay. I'm just gonna go put mine on," you said motioning to the bathroom, "Then we can-"

"Do you want me to do yours?" Bucky interrupted. And holy fuck, how had you not thought of this as a possibility. Bucky had 1940s manners. Not even Hydra brainwashing could take that away from him. Of course he'd offer reciprocation.

"Ah… Sure. Yes."

He took the pot from your hands and dipped his fingers into the goo. "Stevie's the artist, not me. But I'll do my best," Bucky promised.

"I didn't know that,"

"Think all his best parts didn't make it into the history books," he continued. "Don't think some of them made it to 21st century…"

"If I say something based on knowing you for not long, promise not to get salty at me?"

"Salty a bad thing?" he asked, to which you nodded. "Okay…"

"Maybe it's because like, he went rogue for you or whatever. And we got sold this fairytale best friends since birth story… But I kinda expected you guys to be… Nicer to each other."

To his credit Bucky didn't stop painting your face. He was however, clearly unsettled by the statement. He thought for a second. "Yeah… It's… I don't know…" He shrugged. "We'll be alright. He knows I love him… Just handles things different. And he doesn't like being upset. Needs to fix everything. Fight the fight… I've never been like that. Not really… He was the one that wanted to go to war,"

"You didn't?"

"Nah… conscripted."

That fucked you up a little. Hydra wasn't the beginning of his lack of autonomy. He'd been owned by other people since he was basically a kid.

"It's alright," Bucky said.

"Is it?" You'd asked so quietly for a second you thought maybe no noise had emerged from your mouth. There was a twitch in Bucky's expression that reassured you it had.

He'd finished your face mask, putting the pot on the coffee table and wiping his hands on the same towel you had used. It was smeared with green and grey colours. Bucky's gaze focussed on it while he spoke.

"I don't want to keep fighting… But if I don't, I don't know how I'm meant to make up for what I've done."

Your nose began to tingle, the tell-tale warning sign of crying. Biting your lip and willing yourself to be calm you nodded, mostly to yourself. It would be a lie to say you understood, but you could genuinely see his sad logic.

It took so long for you to say something that Bucky had already picked up the next tissue paper wrapped product in your line of Lush. He was rotating it in his hands, trying to work out what could be inside.

"I.. I don't think you can… But not, not because… You just don't have to because it's not your fault. Like, you're not the… reason it all happened. So it doesn't make sense that you have to make up for it. That's not your responsibility. If anything someone has to make it up to you."

Bucky looked at you, a small smile on his lips. He was grateful that you weren't changing the subject, shying away from a hard conversation. It wasn't like you were saying anything brand new to him. But it was nice to hear you say it. He believed you more than when the others had said it. It was a sentiment they all had to believe, because there was red on all their ledgers. Not yours. You had no stake in the claim.

"If it's not my responsibilities, who gets that? It's on me, Y/N. I'm here. Capable. Gotta do it… Someone can make it up to me when I'm old."

There was finality in the statement. That was that. So, you did what any good bartender would do.

"Okay… Well… How about I pour you a whiskey and you tell me how you don't think 102 is old?"

There was that laugh again.

Two Foot Soak and Fancy Frees and whiskey fireballs later, Bucky was well and truly on his way to joining the Lush cult. He looked ridiculous, sitting there covered in product and trying to drink while not getting face mask on the glass. After picking Yog Nog shower gel over Snow Fairy, he disappeared into the bathroom to wash himself clean.

When you were both showered and back in pyjamas, you showed him how to do the towel-hair-twist things that he claimed only women knew how to do. "That's sexist," you teased. And when he did it first go, you suspected he had known all along.

"All that's left is body lotion,"

"Sleepy," he read, taking the pot from you. Opening it, he considered the scent. "Lavender,"

"You're good at this,"

"Everyone knows the smell of lavender,"

"Whatever," you said with a shrug, reaching out to scoop some of the lotion up.

Bucky watched you for a second, before snapping out of the moment. Probably not the coolest thing to do - watch a girl cover herself in lotion. Unless you wanted him to watch. If you did - he would have complied.

Watching Bucky out the corner of your eye, you tried not to laugh. He could tell.

"What?" he sighed. "What am I doing now?"

"Nothing. It's just… Winter Solider covering himself in lavender scented body lotion… It's a mood."

Bucky frowned, not sure exactly what you meant. He did know you were happy.

…

After the self-care session, you and Bucky had fallen asleep on the sofa. It wasn't like in the movies where bodies overlapped and comfortable sleep was found. Bucky was sat upright, head rolled back into an awkward position that would have almost definitely caused an ache by morning. Even for a super soldier. You were on the opposite end, curled up with your feet pressed into Bucky. A siren somewhere outside woke Bucky around three in the morning. He carried you to bed, tucking you in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You didn't stir at all.

Each night thereafter you let yourself drift off on the sofa, enjoying the proximity to Bucky and knowing you'd wake up in bed. It was on the cusp of being routine until one particularly stormy night. Wind had been howling for hours, catching somewhere in a drain or gutter just outside the windows. It caused a high pitched whistle that kept pulling you from sleep.

As Bucky laid you in bed, you woke, confused for only a moment.

"Is it like that every time there's a storm?" Bucky whispered through the darkness of the room. You made a grumbling sound, which Bucky correctly interpreted as a yes. "I'll fix it tomorrow,"

"Wait," you grumbled a little more clearly. "Stop sleepin' on th' couch. Come 'ere." You had your hand around Bucky's wrist and were pulling. There was no way you'd be strong enough to actually pull him onto the bed, but there was no way Bucky was going to say no either.

He crawled under the covers with you, trying to decode what it meant that he was in your bed. Meanwhile, you were wide awake trying to work out if he was buying your sleepy mumbling.

Which was worse, the tension of the want to wriggle back into him, let him curl his arms around you and keep you safe, or the anxiety produced by the thought of rejection? At what moment had Bucky turned from customer to friend? From friend to something else? Had those lines ever existed, or did Bucky's unreal history smash any chance of social normalities in his future? Did the carnage leave only constant unknowns and unmapped territory in its wake? Why did he always smell so goddamn good?

…

It was the start of June when Bucky Barnes had walked into a dusty bar seeking solace. It was the start of August when he disappeared into the night, not planning on returning. Alas, Captain America. So, it was almost four months ago he found refuge in the two-room apartment of one bartender. That brought him all the way up to December. Christmas.

"S'not what it used to be," Bucky grumbled from where he was sitting on the sofa, socked feet on the coffee table.

"But you didn't have my eggnog in the 40s," you countered.

Bucky narrowed his eyes and hid a smile with another sip from the mug in his hands. God, he loved your eggnog. He loved a lot of things about you, but he kept that to himself. He said nothing and continued to watch you decorate the small, plastic Christmas tree you'd set up in the corner of the room.

"You're not gonna help?" you asked.

"You're doing fine, darlin'. I'll tell you if you miss a spot,"

"You're a little fuck, you know that?"

"Mmm. Been told once or twice."

You snorted and got back to your tinsel.

Now, you weren't a psychologist and you didn't know shit about the deep trauma Bucky had experienced and still lived with, but you felt he was definitely in some early stage of recovery. The bed you occupied and the sofa bed he did were close enough that you could hear the whimpers of nightmares. Mornings after, you could pretend you hadn't heard. But, when he shared your bed, which he often did, there could be no ignoring the fact that you knew. However, the nightmares had lessened over the past two months. He made more jokes. He checked the windows less. He went over to Stark Tower a lot to keep training. You even suspected he'd made a friend in Sam Wilson.

"Would it be weird if I got Steve a Christmas present?" you asked, standing back from the tree and looking at your masterpiece.

"He'd probably cry,"

"What? Why?"

"Neither of us got much as kids… Everything's special. Don't think he's grown out of that," Bucky explained, trying to sound casual but the admiration for Steve was too thick in his words for that. "What are ya gonna get him?"

"Not telling you. You'll go snitch. You tell him everything," you accuse, spinning on your heels to point a finger. He made a face that said 'yeah, that's valid.' Smiling, you moved to plug the fairy lights into the electrical outlet. "Should we invite him over?"

By the time you'd stood, marvelled at your sparkling beautiful tree, taken a photo of it, then turned back to Bucky, you saw he had his deep-in-thought face on. It was his serious face, reserved for serious things. You put your phone down and sat next to him, nudging your way to curl up under his arm that hooked over the back of the sofa.

"Talk," you said softly.

"This is your house… so you should do what you want…"

"But?"

"I don't know… I… Nothing bad's happened here, you know? Nobody even knows where here is. It's… safe… from everything else," Bucky said, speaking slowly, carefully. There was a vulnerability in his words that made your heart ache.

"Yeah. It is. Okay. That's okay. We can keep it like that… Our little safe space, huh?"

Bucky nodded, then turned to look at you. God, he was so soft. He smiled, turning you into a pool of feelings.

"Thank you," he said, probably not meaning to whisper it.

You just nodded once and looked back at him. How could anyone have ever wanted to hurt him? How could they fucking touch him?

Before you could even work out who moved first, your foreheads were pressed softly to each other's and he'd wrapped you up in his arms. Bucky often smelt like Lush shampoo you'd bought him that he referred to as the "green jellybean" shampoo. And he always smelt like mint toothpaste because he brushed his teeth multiple times a day, citing a lack of access to such good oral hygiene supplies in the 40s as the cause. Under all that was his own scent, that unique humanness everyone has. Bucky's was sweet and warm and it contrasted against the mint much like the coolness of vibranium pressed to skin.

You knew him. You knew he wouldn't go where you'd not invited him.

As softly as you could control yourself, you tilted your head up and kissed your lips to Bucky's. A second. Two. He kissed back. His first kiss since 1945. And for the first time since coming out of Hydra brainwashing in 2014, Bucky Barnes was so fucking happy to be alive.

…

"I've just realised the best reason for this happening here instead of at ours," you said as you climbed the stairs to Steve's apartment. Bucky hummed a response from in front of you. "We don't have to do any dishes,"

"You don't do dishes anyway," he replied, not trying to be funny but simply stating a fact.

"Killin' my Christmas joy, Barnes,"

"Reckon I was the one bringing the joy," he said, reaching out to gently touch the dress you were in.

Bucky banished you to the small bathroom while he wrapped your Christmas gifts the day before, but as you emerged he seemed perplexed. "Feel like maybe you should have this one now," he'd said, then handed it over. The dress was beautiful, probably very expensive and new despite looking quite vintage in style. "Thought maybe you'd wanna wear it to Steve's tomorrow?" Yes. Yes, you fucking did.

When he saw you in it, saw how it fit you and how you glowed, Bucky felt validated and like all his insides were made of goo. Walking up the stairs to Steve's, he felt the same. Maybe worse. Oh, God, maybe like the first time he'd brought home a girl to meet his family. Bucky tried to distract himself from… you, by counting stairs and taking in his surroundings in detail.

Steve's apartment block was very unassuming. Nobody would guess Captain America lived there. Of course, the other residents had seen him around, shock eventually giving way to acceptance. As you arrived at his door, you could smell and hear all the other Christmas Eve parties happening on his floor.

"Door's unlocked!" Steve called from inside at the sound of your knocking.

Pointedly, Bucky locked the door behind him when he came inside, then put the brightly wrapped gifts on the small table beside the coat rack. Steve was far too busy hugging you tightly to notice that though.

"Y/N! You look beautiful!"

"Yeah? Thank you! Guess where this came from," you quizzed, spinning on the spot to make your dress twirl.

"Bucky?" Steve guessed too quickly.

You pouted, annoyed the game was over. Looking over at Bucky you asked, "Did you tell him?"

"He didn't tell me," Steve said. "That's just a very Bucky dress,"

"You're right. He does also look spectacular in it," you agreed, laughing.

The night went on, and it came as no surprise that Steve was an excellent cook. Although he dismissed compliments, citing Wanda Maximoff for recipes, he seemed to almost buzz at how much food you and Bucky consumed. When it was time for presents, you took a bowl of paprika mashed potato with you to the couch.

"Wait… I thought you were moving these to get to our gifts," you said confused, pointing to the pile on the coffee table.

"I like Christmas," Steve replied, shrugging.

Each carefully wrapped box had a sticker tag on it, the handwriting beautiful. Each one with your name on it looked like typed font it was so perfectly replicated. Bucky's, however, all had variations of his name. Bucky. Buck. Buckaroo. Jerk. Punk.

"I wanna go first," Bucky announced, clearly annoying the scene Steve had playing out in his head. "Here," he said, throwing a box at Steve. Obviously, he caught it.

Steve was immediately suspicious of Bucky's enthusiasm. He did his best not to give his best friend the satisfaction he so badly sought. Simply, Steve rolled his eyes when he unwrapped the ridiculous Captain America action figure.

"See, if you press here, he says things!" Bucky explained, reaching over the coffee table to press the button.

The action lit up and a recorded voice proudly announced, "Avengers, assemble!"

Bucky started to cackle. Steve held in a grin, sucking in his bottom lip to bite it between his teeth.

"That's not even your voice," you noted.

Steve pressed the button again. The toy said, "Freedom and justice for all!"

Bucky was absolutely beside himself.

"I… don't think I've ever said that," Steve said, composing himself. "Actually, Buck, before you get too proud, here." Steve handed Bucky a gift. It stopped Bucky in his tracks. He narrowed his eyes at his friend and began to slowly unwrap it. "If I'm a joke, buddy, so are you," Steve said in the best anti-Captain America tone he could.

Bucky held up the teddy bear. The Bucky bear. Unlike Steve and the action figure, Bucky didn't seem embarrassed by the toy.

"Didn't know they still make these," he said slyly. Bucky knew for a fact they did not make them. He'd gone looking out of interest. Unless Steve had found a mint condition, not at all aged bear, which was incredibly unlikely, it meant he had one especially made.

"If you don't want him, I'll have him," you said, reaching out for the teddy with grabby hands. Bucky (the human) smiled as you hugged Bucky (the bear) to your chest.

"That backfired, didn't it?" he grinned across to Steve.

Steve shook his head. "Here, punk. Got you these too."

Steve had bought Bucky three more gifts. One of the past, one of the present, and one of the future. The past was a vintage record player, which momentarily sent Bucky into a hazy daydream. To use in the here and now - a top of the range knife sharpener. The future was the box set of Gadget Man. You wondered if Steve knew how weird Richard Ayoade was.

He wasn't done; Bucky hadn't been kidding about the whole 'had nothing growing up = now overdoes gifting' thing. Steve presented you with what you could only assume was a very expensive fancy decanter, the most beautiful antique brooch, and a book about the women of WWII. "That's the only one Peg had ever approved of," Steve said.

"You remember everything, huh?" you replied. All those months ago, waiting for Bucky to wake, Steve had told you about Peggy Carter and all the other women he'd met in the war. He'd recalled how enraptured you were.

Lucky last was a pair of matching ugg boots for you and Bucky. Buck pulled his on immediately, loving the feeling of his wriggling toes in the softness.

"Okay, so you moonlight as Santa. Cool," you laughed when Steve was finally done.

Steve grinned with pride.

"Our turn. This one is from me," you said, handing two parcels to Steve. "Bucky told me about how you used to draw. Reckon you both need some… non-combat hobbies."

Steve unwrapped the illustrator's pencils and drawing pads. "Y/N, these are beautiful… It's really thoughtful. I'll draw you something,"

"Draw me," Bucky chimed in.

"She's already unlucky enough to see you every day, Buck. Doesn't need your face on her wall," Steve replied casually, nonchalantly.

You adored when Steve and Bucky were soft around each other, to each other, but fuck it was fun when they'd bicker like an old married couple. The swings they took at each other were always held back with love.

"Christ," Bucky laughed. "Anyway, you interrupted me. I wasn't finished. Here," he said, tossing Steve another gift.

A new leather jacket ("…faux leather, Steve, gotta get with it…"), some very specific thing for Steve's bike that you did not understand, and a fondue set. You also did not understand that.

"Apparently…" Bucky started, leaning back on the sofa looking smug as fuck. "…Peggy told Sharon. Funny stories from Aunt Peg's past and all that… Sharon told Sam. Sam told me. So, ah… fondue."

Steve said nothing.

"I don't get it,"

"Why are you like this?" Steve asked Bucky.

…

The mewing sounds of a black cat woke you early on Christmas morning. Bucky sometimes opened the window when he got up, left a little dish of milk out on the fire escape for the stray. It didn't seemed cagey, like it was used to being inside the apartment.

Bucky emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and smiling happily at you and the cat. "Mornin'," he greeted, reaching down to pat the cat's back, just where its tail began. The cat shimmed happily.

"Are you talking to her or me?"

"I mean… Both?"

You shook your head at him while he went about making coffee. The cat followed him, curling around his ankles like she'd been his best friend forever.

"What's her name?"

"Becca."

You nodded, watching the cat. "So, are you gonna come wish me a happy Christmas?" you asked Bucky when he remained focused on the cat, then on pulling bowls and pans from the kitchen cupboards.

"How 'bout you come here and wish me a happy Christmas. Since I'm about to make you special pancakes,"

"Special pancakes?!" you repeated, quickly getting out of bed and slipping your feet into closest pair of ugg boots. Not yours. Bucky snorted as he watched you cross the apartment walking like a little kid in their mother's high heels. When you got to him, he opened his arms and pulled you in close. "What makes them special?"

"If they work, they're gonna be eggnog flavoured… Maybe," he answered, leaving the hug to begin cooking.

After eggnog pancakes and The Grinch, you both pulled out your Christmas gifts.

"Did you actually go into a Lush store?!" you squeaked, quickly taking the lid off the Merry and Bright giftbox.

Bucky sighed. "Yeah… I did… Had to get something without the bath stuff in it," he told you.

The image of Bucky Barnes walking into a Lush store and asking for a giftbox for you was all a little too much. The signature smell of the store was in the air and Bucky looked relieved.

"I love it. It's perfect. Thank you," you said softly, hugging him.

It was his turn. Bucky opened the small box, held up the contents. You'd never seen confusion so perfectly executed in expression before. The pink cat collar looked especially tiny hanging from his finger.

"Notice anything different about Becca?" you asked then.

Bucky immediately started to look around for the cat. She came when he called, and he picked her up. Still confused.

"See that little tattoo in her ear? Means she's yours. Took her to the vet to see if she was microchipped or anything. But she wasn't. She was homeless, and now she's not. She's wormed and flead and registered to us. Turns out she's young too. Just a bit of a big boi, probably all that milk you've been giving her,"

"Y/N... I..." But he didn't know what to say, so he turned to the cat. "Did ya hear that, Bec? You don't have to sneak ya in anymore."

Bucky put her new collar on while you told him that he'd have to take her to her appointment the following week; she needed to be desexed. And, that you had to give her a name at the vet. "I don't know if we can change it now... Didn't want to ruin the surprise, so I just did it. But it's not like it says Bucky on your birth certificate, so…"

"What did you call her?"

"Whiskey,"

"Whiskey… Of course you did. How about I make us some tea then, before you get ready for work? Do a toast to Whiskey?"

…

"Most places are closed Christmas," Bucky stated like you didn't already know that fact.

"Yeah… But I don't know, we open every year and the regulars come. I don't know where they'd go if we weren't open," you explained, pulling your boots on.

"I'll come with you," he said then, quickly dragging himself off the sofa and looking around for something to wear. No real cleaning had taken place in a couple of days. The Christmas spirit was well and truly alive in the form of loose bits of tinsel and stray gift bows. Clothes were scattered about too, and empty shopping bags. You were surprised Bucky hadn't freaked out about the mess.

"You can if ya want, but you don't have to. Don't feel obligated or anything."

Bucky was dressed and at the door before you'd finished with your laces. His beauty was effortless.

"I don't," he reassured, tying his hair up in a bun.

As you and Bucky turned the corner onto the bar's street, you could see a couple of people leaning against the old building. Out of instinct, Bucky's grip on your hand tightened and he walked a little closer to you. Approaching the bar, you recognised Dave and another regular. "Hey, guys," you greeted them, hugging them before opening the bar and letting everyone in.

Like it was a normal day, the tables filled with people and the jukebox was set to bad 70s and 80s rock and country. You poured out a free round of beer and ordered a couple pizzas for the men that had only your bar to call home.

Once everyone was settled, you wandered back over to Bucky, who was residing in his usual place.

"What's a boy like you doing in a place like this?" you asked, grinning and resting on the bar.

"Oh, you know. Good service. Think I might ask the doll that works 'ere out," he replied, trademark Barnes.

It made you laugh. Bucky leaned across and kissed you gently.

"So what will it be? Whiskey? Oh, fireball! For Christmas?"

Bucky made a face he couldn't hide fast enough. "Don't take this the wrong way, darlin', but… prefer your eggnog,"

"I've made you fireballs before at home?"

He tried to hide a smile. "How 'bout that old bottle. Still floating around?"

The 1940 bottle of whiskey. In the wake of Bucky's abrupt disappearance all those months ago, you'd hidden the bottle behind stacks of till rolls and bags of straws. It did nothing but remind you of Bucky, which in turn caused nothing but heartache. In all honesty, you'd forgotten about it until the moment he'd asked for it.

"Not drinking with me?" he asked when you only poured one glass.

"Buck, you know I love you, but I'm just not drinking that shit ever again."

He watched you for a second, studied your face to see if you were going to take it back or laugh like it was a joke. But you didn't do either of those things. Rather, you just smiled. Gentle but sly. Knowing.

You kinda loved him from the get go.

"Think I've been waitin' eighty years for you," Bucky said, his voice shaky, like the words had slipped from the deep, pure recesses of his mind without filter.

"Merry Christmas, James Buchanan Barnes. Glad you're here," you replied, holding your can of Dr Pepper up to tap against his glass of whisky in a toast.

"Merry Christmas, darling."

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Please like, reblog, and comment if you’ve got any feels about this! It took ages to write and was a lot of work. I’d appreciate it a lot. xo Rhi

Tag list: @browngirlmagic @darlingtholland

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes/Y/N #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #mine #Bucky Barnes needs a hug #Recovering!Bucky

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theorynexus · 4 years

Text

Unrelated to the Epilogues

Apologies for not getting back to liveblogging, yet; however, that’s going to begin again with my next post. This one is simply to express some thoughts that have been kicking around in my head for a few days, which I did not get the chance to express because I was sleep deprived and then briefly sick. Namely: All weapons (or Strife Specibi, I should say) in Homestuck seem to be symbolically representative of the character who owns them to some extent. A few easy examples would be: * the Dualing Pistol (White Magnum/White Wand), which is elegant and precise, only needing to be fired once to provoke massive, impactful change, and doubly representative of Alt!Calliope’s subtle orchestration of events behind the scenes; * The Dudely [Fire]Arm[ament]s (Caliborn/Lord English’s canes/rifles), which the aforementioned doubled set is contrasted to: whilst they are equally intended to convey mastery of events (and particularly the people taking part in them), these are more brutish, and make their impact through repeated blows (a pool cue arranges things through a loud, meaningful break, and then many serious blows to follow--- and while these blows might in theory require precision in order to make the balls fall where they must, in practice, Caliborn’s talent is in ensuring that every hit eventually brings things to a favorable conclusion, rather than in the shortest route possible). Brute force methods are used to bring about the desired conclusion--- an inevitable death, generally ---and the overkill that Caliborn (the Lord of Death, in some ways) utilizes whenever his rifle’s sights fall upon a target (for it’s never a single bullet that hits) is representative of his general methodology and spirit. * Dave’s broken/mended sword, split over time, is obviously representative of his own Aspect, how it gradually affects him (time heals all wounds, as the saying goes, despite the fact that he seems to become quite incensed with it at some points, and struggles with it to the point of refusing to embrace it for a very long time), and especially how his personal history ties into his personal arc (Dave is more affected by his time with his Guardian than perhaps any other kid, despite the fact that Jade is fused with the replacement surrogate that might arguably be said to have usurped the position from her grandpa, and this is also a reflection on the Aspect of Time in his life, I should think). How Bro (Dirk) Broke his Heart, and how Dave struggled to mend it over the course of the series has been much better discussed elsewhere than I could attempt to express in the brief space I’m allotting to this discussion, here, though, and thus I shall cut this off right here, just as both brothers have a habit off symbolically cutting things off, themselves. ~~~ The train of thought that I am wanting to express herein started with a thought that caught me by surprise: I continue to have no idea what, precisely John’s Strife Specibus is supposed to represent, you see, so when I remembered that there was a method of inheritance called Gavelkind, it struck me that it could be related to this, as a pun. Unfortunately, this seems like a dead end, unless it is a very forward thinking joke about every member of his party taking up the main character mantle after he dies in the “more canon [more relevant in Dirk’s eyes]” Meat Epilogue (or, alternatively, Davesprite and Rose’s inherited self from the timeline having to clean up John’s mess after the idiot got himself obliterated in the deal he made with Typheus after Terezi tricked him). It could also be related to him forging the group through his Heir of Breath inspiration toward a path mechanic, but what are the chances of it being that simple an answer? Unfortunately, said inheritance business seemed more promising than it was, because I was initially confusing it with the Elective method of kingmaking that is to be found in German historical culture. That truly fits with who John is, and resonates with the “I’m not your leader, I’m your friend” humblepie that was served up to us (and everyone else in his party). ... This line of thinking was useful, however, because it led me to thinking about Karkat’s own weapon. Obviously, the “Heh, heh, Communism” line of thinking briefly occurred to me, but more relevantly, I thought of the reason why the sickle is used as a symbol of Communism. It is a classic symbol of the lower class--- farmers, in particular ---which hints at the very beginning to Karkat’s rather humble origins. While many people might like to think of his mutant blood as “potentially higher than fuschia,” or some such nonsense, more realistically, one has to realize that Karkat was placed in the lowest of low positions: not only was he the only member of his kind, but he would have been without a Lusus and immediately abandoned to death, if the worshipers of his Ancestor had not ensured that he had the dimmest possibility of a relatively normal life. At the same time, he wanted to defy this lowborn status and become a mighty general in )-(er Imperious Condescension’s army. While this initial spark of revolution was not much, it is representative of all that was to come-- you see, the sickle is to some extent also a symbol of revolt, and while peasant revolts would generally be brutally put down throughout history (just as the waves of opposition to the Condesce were in Alternian lore), this would not in fact be the case with Karkat, or the session that he (and Aradia) would lead. You see, Karkat’s own ideals and the weapon that represents them are but the tip of the iceberg. The Beta Trolls’ entire session was littered with themes of rebellion against the established social order, and the consequent turning of it upon its head. First and most obviously, it would be two Lowborn trolls that would come to lead the two “teams” which the session had to offer. Both of these figures acquired this position by usurping it from Bluebloods, who might traditionally have taken up this role in a circumstance where the empress-to-be didn’t show interest in leadership and the Purple Blood in the group appeared to be an incompetent, serially inebriated sack of garbage. This theme particularly shown through in [concupiscent] romance, where we saw pairings that, without exception (other than possibly the crush that Ms. Leijon bore for Karkat, which saw no fruition and arguably did not count for anything, just as Eridan’s flushed feelings for Feferi didn’t “matter” in the end, and Kanaya x Vriska, while being a borderline issue for this topic, doesn’t count either, also due to it just being a crush), all saw subversion of social hierarchy:

Equius x Aradia, Gamzee x Tavros, Feferi x Sollux {I just noticed that these relationships all have the same social distance from one another for some reason.}, Terezi x Karkat. Vriska x Tavros is one-sided, and thus debatable, but also fits this pattern, intriguingly enough. Equius was hit with this subversive force in their social lives particularly hard, possibly because he was the Heir of Void, and thus was more inundated with forces of subtext than the rest of the group [particularly since he was a failure in that role]. Not only could he not resist the drive to submit to those it was “perverse” for one of his “station” to bend the knee to, when the opportunity to truly embrace the anti-normative forces that he had been dipping into (despite his Classist upbringing) came, he was so confused and uncertain that he could not properly understand what he was being pushed to do, and the necessity of it--- and thus froze, allowing himself to be swept away by the Rage Gamzee filled him with. These themes play out in Operation Regisurp, both in name and its practical implementation. Furthermore, I have just, in the course of writing this post, come to the conclusion that this is why Gamzee had to be the final obstacle to the true end of the Beta Trolls’ session. He was a crystallized manifestation of the old regime, and its established order: Gamzee acted as a shadow of the Condesce’s will, the Hemospectrum’s implications, and the brutal reality that was Alternia. It was thus quite fitting that Karkat was the one to stop his rampage, for he was the Knight of Blood who cajoled everyone to work together as a single team, rejecting the classical restrictions that would have spelled DOOM for their party in favor of bonds beyond the literal nature of the blood that flowed through all of their veins. Furthermore, I think this is why that confrontation ended in the Shush Pap scene. Not only was it true that Karkat had literally zero percent chance of actually killing Gamzee in the fight (and a very small chance, indeed, to defeat him through violence), but this would to some extent additionally be an endorsement of the old Alternian way of life. Rather than through violence, Karkat used his bond with Gamzee to find a solution, and by this means, turned him away from his role as brutal Subjugglator--- though unfortunately this also meant that Gamzee would take a turn for the worse, becoming even more firmly cemented in his role as a servant to the Mirthful Messiah’s. ... Heading back to the meaning of Karkat’s weapon for a moment, I think that the sickle has another implication to explore: it is an implement of the harvest. Karkat initially wanted to be a sort of grim reaper, slaughtering Alternia’s foes and claiming glory for himself and for his empress. While he was correct in thinking that he just needed an opportunity to prove himself (and thus, he was embracing the symbolic “one must wait until the fruits of the harvest are ripe” implications of the sickle in his own life), the climax of this narrative arc would come when Karkat found himself at the head of Meenah’s united army of all the trolls in the afterlife and bravely charged to meet a foe he knew could destroy the soul with very breath--- and the very real equivalent of the Grim Reaper, himself ---wielding the closest thing he had to a weapon painted with the rainbow (Fuschia an Lime Green bound together betwixt bands of black and white, thus singled out amidst all the colors of the light spectrum). This was his ultimate rejection of the Alternia that was, as he challenged the hidden hand that had twisted it into the place of horror it had been; and upon the fulfillment of that destiny, Karkat would vanish.

Yet, by some miracle, this was not the end: in a place separated beyond barriers of space and time, he would awaken, and but a short time later, he would be granted the Ultimate Reward that had once been wrenched from his grasp. ....................................................................................................................... One last matter of note: It should be pretty obvious, considering the fact that universes are shaped to reflect the wills and designs of the Players involved, but I am pretty sure humans’ singularly colored blood is an explicit rejection of the hemospectrum, and the particular color that was “chosen” may very well be reflective of the important role Karkat in particular played in the session. What may not be so obvious is how fitting, symbolically, it is that it is a human that stands triumphant over the corpse of )-(er Imperious Condescension. Curse baggage aside (which still has been irksomely unexplored, to my knowledge), the fact that it is essentially the Beta Trolls’ rejection of her world order that does the empress in feels very right and, upon reflection, is quite beautiful. Obviously, there’s also a nice splash of revenge playing into that too, as visibly denoted by the weapon used and the handle wrapping, in particular. I am curious as to the implications of Roxy’s typing color being the same as the blood of said fishy tyrant, though. That, I can’t quite figure out.

#Homestuck Analysis #Homestuck Spoilers #Karkat Vantas #Symbolic Meaning #Thematic

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kanyniablue · 4 years

Text

fic writer tag meme

i was almost finished when i lost this post TWICE!!! TWICE

tagged by america-oreosandkitkats, which tumblr is not letting me @ ! i love new updated tumblr! it’s my favorite!

AO3 name: kat_blue, however i haven’t actually uploaded anything. it was #newyearsresolution2020 to start uploading some writing, just to say “i’m D O N E im not going to touch it again” but...2020 got in the way

Fandoms: overwhelmingly hetalia where i set up camp back in 2010-2011 and never moved on, harry potter but only in headcanons/crossovers, Discworld but don’t test me, uh, The Outsiders, yes that book we read in middle school, Coco (2017) because im a corporate sellout

Tropes: 30 AU Pileup, Historical AU, 20 Minutes into the Past/Future, Gen, Enemies-to-Lovers, Friends-to-Lovers, Hookup-to-Something-More, Enemies-to-Lovers-But-They’re-Still Enemies, Unhealthy/Codependent Relationship (romantic, platonic, familial...), Breakup Fic, For Want of a Nail, Everyone’s Dead Dave/Tragic End, Postcredits Scene/whatever you’d call it when you write what would happen after canon says “the end,” Character Study (not sure if that’s a trope but it’s mostly what I write)

Number of fics: ...a bunch. i write in several documents, some of which are inaccessable to me because of a computer crash. i honestly have no idea

Fic I spent the most time on: considering it’s not even finished, Sun Down (WWI Prussia that was supposed to be PruHun but turned into an extended character study/war novel/just torturing the guy but he kind of deserves it) has been limping along for 2+ years...although mostly nowadays I just poke at it occasionally

Fic I spent the least time on: i have no idea, i’ve got a bad habit of coming back to a “finished” fic months or even years later and messing with it. Maybe The Witch Dreaming, a weird little Nyo!EnglandxGreece fic that needed more notes explaining what it was about than it had actual words. it was one of those *sudden inspiration* *scribble scribble scribble* “wait, what the fuck is this?” fics

Longest fic: Brother, Can You Spare a Dime (RusAme domestic fluff & death threats in the Great Depression/Stalinist USSR, burns so slow they barely manage to kiss right before WWII breaks out, ends badly) clocks in at roughly 21K and it’s not even half finished. technically my main WIP but i don’t focus

Shortest fic: The World in the Palm of Your Hand, a tiny little Revolution!America character study, 147 words including its entire title? i know i used to write drabbles & flashfics but that document is...problematic right now

Most hits/Most kudos/Most comment threads/Most bookmarks: yeaaaah, about that...see “haven’t uploaded anything.” i think i uploaded a couple of fics to tumblr, possibly an old account, but if i did nobody ever read ‘em

Total word count: eeesh, probably at least 150K if we’re counting everything

Favorite fic I wrote: it changes but im still fond of Skin, a bunch of little spamano...vignettes? that i started back around 2014 and still enjoy, which isn’t something i say about a lot of my old writing

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: ...all of them. if i have to choose probably Take the Long Way Home, a partially-finished NorwayxSouth Italy Human!ExchangeStudent!AU that i used to love back in its day of ~2012-2014 but now is very...dusty. writing style changed a lot from what it was back then, lots of “new to the fandom” tropes, lots of “real humans don’t act like this it’s just more dramatic” plot holes...i could do a lot with rewriting it, i just generally work on more recent things and i leave it fossilized and occasionally say “but what if”

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime: What was supposed to happen was that they’d be met by the secret police at the train station, and U.S. Personification Alfred Jones would be arrested as a foreign spy.

What actually happened was that after giving up at the train station, one of Ivan’s bosses’ secretaries met them at the front of Ivan’s office building, where he waited and kicked his heel against the wall because he couldn’t light a cigarette without dropping America’s wrist and no amount of exasperated sighs from America was going to convince him it was safe to do so, and when the human secretary did get out there all he said was, “The police aren’t coming.”

Ivan closed his eyes. “Why are the police not coming?”

“They say you seem like you’ve got it handled, Comrade Braginsky,” said the secretary.

“How am I supposed to handle him?” Ivan said through his teeth, waving America’s arm, “Keep a grip on him like he’s a child until they feel fit to interrogate him?”

<<Hi,>> said America sardonically.

The secretary pressed his lips thin. “I don’t know, comrade.”

“He’s an American spy!”

“I am not being spy!” America said. “Not!”

The human looked between them, then said to Russia, “I don’t know what else to tell you, Comrade Braginsky. I don’t have the authority to override the chief of police.”

Slowly, Russia rubbed his eyes. “...I know, comrade. Very well. Take down a message for me, will you?”

Russia’s bosses received a note, in lieu of Russia returning to work as he’d planned: Have in custody suspected American spy, name of ALFRED JONES (note English spelling). Contact American consulate as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Russia would take America to the only place he knew he could keep an eye on the foreign nation.

[and then they were roommates. I don’t know nearly enough about Soviet Russia to depict it with any amount of accuracy but I’m writing gay country anime boys, this isn’t the place to look for a documentary.]

i know a lot of people who follow me write fanfiction so if you do and you see this, you’re tagged! let’s try to tag people who i know write: @gothicmagpie @knowledgequeenabc @convenientalias uhh I don’t know how many of my other followers are both active & writers

#tag meme #fanfic meme #quaranmeme #even right now im like 'no DONT POST THAT SECTION I PLAN ON CHANGING IT' which is why it's important to work on your new year's resolutions

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gamzee-the-capricious-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Chapter 4

Notes: Nothing really groundbreaking in this chapter lol, just that on average each chapter is 7 to 8 pages and if I put the big shit in this chapter it would be super long. Hope you enjoy it anyway!!

You wake up to someone shaking you quite vigorously. You blink sleepily and mumble.

"'m too tired for this shit motherfucker." You glance over to see it's Karkat.

"Well get over it. It's your fault we ended up going to sleep so late."

"That's harsh bro." You yawn and stretch out on the couch. Karkat is looking at you impatiently.

"You have an hour and a half to get ready so I'd get a move on if I were you."

You nod lazily, all in motherfuckin time. Tavros walks in rubbing his eyes all sleepily. You can't help but to think he is damn cute when sleepy, well to be fair he is damn cute all the time but especially when he is sleepy.

"Mornin T-dog" you manage a lazy ass wave.

"Mornin Gamzee, d-did you uh fall asleep in here?"

"Mhm, bed was just too damn far."

Tavros giggles. "Could of uh, just went to my bed if it uh, would have been easier." He immediately blushes profusely. "U-uh i mean, uhhh. G-gotta go, talk to you later!" He very quickly heads out into the hall, presumably going to the bathroom.

You look at Karkat wide eyed, "uh.. did that.. make any sense to you? He wasn't like, I mean it sounded kind of like maybe…" you trail off. Best not get your hopes up on all that. He was probably just joking.

"God you're such a fucking dumbass."

"How so Karbro?"

"Clearly, Gamzee, Tavros has red feelings for you and we all know how you feel about him. I swear you two idiots would be perfect together if you weren't so fucking stupid."

"Wait.. really? No joke?"

"Oh my god, yes Gamzee, no fucking jokes here." He gestures around wildly, "do you fucking see any jokes dipshit."

Dave walks in. "I dunno dude, I think I see one joke in this room." He's looking at you. You growl a bit under your breath but you stop once you hear Karkat chuckle a bit.

"Bro, are you siding with motherfuckin Strider over me??"

"No, no, it's just, I mean it's kinda funny Gamzee."

"Well I think it's motherfuckin rude."

Dave interjects. "You're literally a clown. A walking joke, literally."

You stand up swiftly, that pisses you off. "Oh? Want me to show you how motherfuckin funny I can be?" You growl threateningly.

"Oh I'm so scared."

You take a step forward but Karkat grabs your arm. "Gamzee. Shower, go." He points towards the door giving you a no nonsense look. You grumble a bit but you do as he says. As you get yourself all cleaned up and ready for the day you can’t help but to think about Tavros. Does he really feel the same feelings as you? I mean Karkat wouldn’t lead you wrong, and he does notice these kinds of things so… Maybe it is true? Should you make a move then? Before you can really consider that much more Karkat comes and shouts at you for taking too long.

"I swear to God if you make me late for our first fucking class Gamzee. I mean fuck do you even know your schedule?"

You give him a sweet lil smile. "Nope. But I know you do.~"

Karkat sighs. "Yeah, you're not wrong. I fucking did your schedule cause I know you're a dumbass. It's the same as mine so just follow me around like a little quackbeast."

You figured as much. "All right Karbro, I'm all up and ready anyway so lead away."

"... You literally don't have your bag dipshit."

"Uh.. aaallrriighhtyy I'm almost ready then." You look embarrassed, of course, the most important thing. You run to the room and grab it real fast then come back to Karkat. "Ok, now I'm motherfuckin ready."

You give him a double thumbs up and a cheesy smile. He rolls his eyes at your antics and mumbles something about associating with idiots. Either way he grabs your hand and pulls you off towards your first class. You walk hand in hand across campus heading for the humanities building or so Karkat called it. All the buildings kind of look the same to you. As you walk you notice a few humans giving you guys weird looks, you wonder why but soon dismiss it as you enter the building. The halls are bustling with trolls you notice, you give Karkat a questioning look.

“There are a lot of classes about human culture here so of course there is going to be a bunch of trolls.” He gives you a look that suggests you should have thought about that. “Anyway most of our classes are here, Earth History, Human psychology, and English. We are going to English 101 right now.”

You sigh dramatically. You get the feeling that it is going to be a very boring day. And it is, once you got through with the humanities building you and Karkat had to walk all the way across campus to the science building to learn about Earth biology and such. Then again you had to walk a ridiculous distance to your final class. Human Health. It seemed to be a waste of a day honestly, each class went over boring “syllabus” shit and you learned nothing.

However, throughout the day there was this uncomfortable atmosphere. Of the trolls attending the university the mid to lowbloods rarely glanced you and Karkat’s way. Unless they sat next to you where they looked very uncomfortable and your attempts to look all friendly like were not appreciated and they just looked more scared. Same with the humans. John, Jade, Rose, and Dave are so chill with you and your friends that you assumed other humans would be ok like that too but turns out that was a big resounding motherfuckin no. The case was very different with the Higher Castes. Blue and up were openly disgusted by both you and Karkat. With Karkat it was more understandable, he’s a mutant and we were taught that mutants shouldn’t exist and yada yada. You never really cared.

You are not sure if they give you looks because you clearly associate with Karkat or if there is another reason. Other than your friends you never really associated to much with other High Bloods despite you being a purple blood of the faith. You were mostly high all the time so you didn’t get out much. But now you can see that your fellow purple blooded motherfuckers are MUCH taller than you and typically built heavier. You never really realized that you were so physically stunted in comparison. That said you still are much taller than most of your friends. Equius is taller than you, so is Feferi. Eridan and Vriska are about your height. And then the rest of your friends are shorter whether by a little or a lot. Nepeta being the shortest of them all yet still as fierce as she is cute.

When you guys finally head back to the dorm building you make sure to keep Karkat close to you. You don’t think anyone will try anything at least while they are under human supervision but you’d rather be safe than sorry, you would never forgive yourself if something happened to Karkat. You almost laugh, first Karkat was worrying over you and now you are doing the same to him. Karkat was oddly silent for the walk. You weren’t adding any commentary yourself but typically Karkat is almost always going on about something. Neither of you guys speak until you enter the room.

“Wow, maybe this is going to be harder than anticipated.”

You glance at Karkat then hum in agreement. “I don’t think you are the only problem Kar.” You gesture to yourself. “I’m pretty sure I got some dirty looks too. Never really realized how short I was compared to others of my blood. Then add up the both of us together, the mutant and the druggy.” You sigh dramatically. You had hoped your dramaticism would lighten the mood but Karkat still looks insecure.

“Look, despite me being all up a short motherfucker I’m still more than strong enough to protect my best bro.” You stick your tongue out at him and flex your arms comedically. It works, Karkat gives a soft chuckle.

“You look ridiculous, please stop I swear to god I am going to throw up at this display of idiocy.”

You laugh and oblige. “Besides, the humans aren’t all happy with violence and all that. Any troll who does shit will be booted from Earth most likely.” Karkat nods and looks a bit better, reassured by your words. “Now how about we get our comfort on on the couch and watch some shitty romcoms.”

“Fuck you they are NOT shitty!” You just laugh.

A few weeks pass relatively uneventfully. The humans started relaxing a bit in the trolls presence and some of the highbloods appear to have gotten bored of giving you and Karkat menacing looks. That doesn’t mean all of them have quite their shit but it is way better and both you and Karkat feel much more relaxed about it. The only interesting thing that has been happening has been you and Dave continuing your fued. If you didn’t know better you would assume he was black flirting with you, but as a human you doubt he would understand the concept. The other three don’t seem to. Well, maybe Rose does, she is pretty smart but appears to have no interest in any of the other romances. So there you are, head in Karkat’s lap on the couch complaining about Dave.

“Ugghhh, Dave is such a motherfucking asshole.” you practically growl each word your frustration quite evident.

“He’s not that bad Gamzee.” Karkat mutters a slight blush on his face.

“Kaaarrrrkkkaaattt, stop defending him! Can’t you see I am suffering? The black feelings in my blood pusher are almost too much for this motherfucker to bear.” you say this very dramatically.

“Well, maybe stop fucking flirting with him and do something more productive. For example, you still haven’t made a move regarding Tavros. Even though I literally told you that he feels the same as you do. I swear everyone is just waiting with bated breath for you two bulge fondlers to just do something already. The tension between you too is almost palpable. If one of you guys don’t say anything we are all going to start frothing at the mouth starved for the sweet sweet release that you two getting together will bring us.”

You blush profusely. “Well it’s not like it is easy to just up and confess to your red crush. What am I supposed to say? What if I fuck it up?? You know I’m not good with words when I am nervous!.”

“Uh, no I am not, for one I don’t think I have ever seen you nervous. You have idiot confidence, which is to say that it’s a lot of confidence because you are stupid as fuck.”

“..Uh.. Point taken? Still, I don’t know, should I take him on a date? What if he thinks it is just a friendly outing?” You groan with frustration, hiding your embarrassed face with your hands.

“Well Gamzee, you don’t know until you try dumbass. Tavros is probably too shy to make a move so it’s kind of on you bud.”

You groan again. And of course Tavros just happens to walk into the dorm room.

“Uh.. Are you alright Gam?”

You stutter and stumble over your words. “I uh, f-fuck, uhhh, just great, fantastic, um, never better! T-totally wasn’t talking about you or anything! Like hah! Why would I be talking about my cute- u-uh I mean cool! Rap buddy. Yeah.” Your face feels like it is on fire.

“Um, o-ok, and uhh, thanks m-maybe? I uhh, j-just remembered that I t-totally forgot that I have a class I need to be at uh, so b-bye!” He rushes out of the dorm room as fast as possible. He doesn’t have his bag. Also It is like 8 o��clock and you know he doesn’t have night classes.

“Well, that was a fucking trainwreck.” Karkat sighs. That is an understatement.

“Uuuuuuuuuugggghhhhhh!” you groan for the damn third time. “I told you I would motherfuckin fuck it up”

“Yeah, I stand corrected. I didn’t realize the full extent of how socially incompetent you two are. Look, how about you just ask him to a movie or something and you know, don’t be an awkward fuckwad. Just act fucking normal and then just make a move, you know, like the classic stretch and arm over his shoulder thing. If he has literally any braincells he is sure to figure out the meaning of that at least. Look, how about we watch some movies and you take fucking notes on how to actually fucking do this shit.” You are 99% sure this is just an excuse to just watch romcoms. But you just roll your eyes with a smile and just go with it.

Even later that night when Tavros finally returns to the room you are on the couch trying to look suave and cool but you are probably failing. “Uh, hey Tavbro, sorry about earlier. Um, sooo by chance would you be down to see a motherfuckin movie or maybe um just chill the fuck out somewhere, get some food or whatever. If you want to.” You look away avoiding eye contact.

“Uh, yeah, that um, sounds like fun. I’d be uh, down to see a movie with you.” In your peripheral vision you can see he is biting his lip. He says the next thing really quickly. “Imeantotallyinafriendwayofcourse!” Your smile falters a bit before you force it back on your face. “..cool, great, yeah, of course..” Your voice sounds a bit strained. Wow this is going badly.

“Well, um, does tomorrow night sound up and good with you?”

“Y-yeah, uh, sounds great.”

“Wicked. Um, anyway I’m just going to uh..” you gesture towards the bedroom. “..sleep and, yeah.” You abruptly stand up and quickly yeet yourself up into your bed and burrow into your blankets with amazing speed. You bury your face into your pillow to hide the shame written all over your face. You really dicked this up huh. After a few minutes Tavros eventually comes into the room and heads to bed. At least you assume that as your face is buried into your pillow at the moment. It takes you a while but eventually you drift off to sleep.

#chapter 4

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angelinewanderland · 5 years

Text

The Name Game (Part 1)

Hi! My name is Angel!

Well actually it’s Angeline, but as long as you can construct any of the letters in my name so that it’s seemingly recognizable (or at the very least, a name you can still Mime out in a game of Charades), you can call me whatever you want. .

Here is a list of my previous and current nicknames to help you out: “Ang” (pronounced “Anj”) “Angie” “Gel” “Jelly” “Linn” “An”(pronounce “Anne” or “Ahn”) “Gee”

And to the extremely lazy ones like myself… “A” 😅 I guess it can be pretty fun trying to dissect long names just to see how many short names you can make out of it!

The funniest one I got so far was in high school when a friend kept calling me “Hair Gel”. So by keeping the name “Gel”, I suppose he was still in the running.

In some countries like Indonesia, people will give you nicknames based on the last 3 or 4 letters of your name.

For example, if your name is Angel, they might call you “Gel”.

“David” would be “Vid”

Or if your name is “Ayu”, they will call you “Yu”.

I’m not kidding.

“Ayu” is possibly one of the shortest Indonesian girl names you can find and they can still manage to cut one letter out to form a nickname.

But it’s not always that way. Sometimes if nicknaming a person using the last few letters of their first name doesn’t sound so....fitting, the Indonesians also turn to the Western way of nicknaming.That is, instead of taking out the last few letters of your first name, they take out the first 3 or 4.

So, if you have a name like, “Angeline”, then in most Western countries, you would end up being called “Angel” or “Ang” (pronouned “Anj”)

or most commonly “Angie” (if they’re feeling cute)

I spent most of my life between two countries Indonesia and Australia, so I think it’s pretty fair to attempt to write about How Nicknames are Created in both of these countries.

By the way, this is a two part blog series.

Let’s start with Australia!

Correct me if I’m wrong, but Aussies LOVE Nicknames!

Somehow, the people of Australia has managed to generate nicknames for you that somehow still sound like your original name but also isn’t...

Ok bare with me.

Here is how nicknames are constructed in Australia

(according to my 9 year experience living in the Land Down Under)

1. The “aZzaaaaa”

When you go to or if you have gone to the “Land Down Under” you will or may have heard words that sound like “Cazza”, “Bazza”, “Tezza” or “Gazza” being thrown around.

First of all, let me clarify that these are not slangs.

These are people’s names.

What happens is, in Australia, if you have the letter “R” as the third letter of your first name, they will cut that letter and replace it with a “Z”

Similar to boys names.

If your name is “Harry”, it is now “Hazza”.

No this isn’t some cute way of giving you a nickname.

It’s actually the way friends refer to each other.

So instead of calling you “buddy” for instance or “mate” which they often do, to show that you’re their friend, they will make up another nickname for you based on your already given original name.

In a way it kind of states that you’re in the group (i.e. they like you)

But wait! It doesn’t end there!

Well sure there’s more.

Here’s another one.

2. And Bingo was his name “- O”

Sometimes, in Australia, people will also add a vowel to your name.

Once again they will take the first two or three letters and then simply add a vowel.

Let’s give an example using the letter “O” as a vowel.

Right then! So If your name is Steven, you would think that your nickname be Steve right?

Well no.

In Australia, your name would be Ste-vo!

(pronounced “Stee-Voh”)

And your friend “David” over there?

He’s not Dave. Nooo. That’s ridiculous.

He is now “Davo”!

(pronounced “Day-Voh”).

How about this one?

Can you figure out what the name “Loz” is short for? (Hint: It’s a girl’s name)

No?

It’s short for Lauren!

Yeah. The “aZZa” doesn’t always apply with the “R” to “Z” exchange.

Which leads me to number

3. The “Azza” exception: “Z” or “...ZZie”

Your friend Lauren, can also be referred to as “Loz” or “Lozzie”

(Note that the “A” and “U” in “Lauren” was combined to form an “O”)

And if your name is Barry, perhaps you can choose from the following:

“Bazza” or “Baz” or “Bazzie”.

Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.

The Name Game isn’t always so difficult and confusing.

Like this next one for instance...

4. The Easy “S”

This one’s pretty straight forward.

Sometimes they just add an “S” at the end of the two to three letters.

Here I’ll give you an easy one to guess.

"Jules”

If you said “Julia”, Juliette”, “Julie” or really any other names that start with “J” “U” and “L”, then you’re right!

Or “Becks”

Which is a nick name for Becky which is also short for “Rebecca”

But that’s nothing new...

Pretty easy right?

Ok last one I promise.

5. The “Last Name” Game

Sometimes in Australia, people will call you by your last name. I found this one really interesting because what happens if a group of friends has three guys with the same last name?

You’d have to get creative, wouldn’t you?

For example, the name “Warwick” would be butchered three ways to Sunday so that one guy would be called “Wocka”, the other would be called “Warra” and the third would be called Eric.

Obviously you need to identify one guy by his first name to make it less confusing…for some reason.

And while we’re still on this topic, I have a little story.

Last time I was in Australia, I tried to break the nicknaming system in my friends group by screwing the norm and calling one of my friends “Evan”. (For privacy purposes, let’s say his name is Evan Michaels.)

“Evan Michaels” was known to the group as “Michaels”.

...or rather, until I came into the group one memorable day and started calling him “Evan”.

The others didn’t have it.

I didn’t hear the end of it.

Not only was I often corrected back to his last name, but it’s as though some kind of system malfunctioned.

They wouldn’t have it because they weren’t used to calling him “Evan”. His name is “Michaels”.

I never stopped calling him “Evan” by the way.

Cause I’m fun like that.

I can see why some people refer to others by their last name though.

It stands outs.

So clearly, when it comes to nicknames, being original is the way to go.

(P.S. If you’re reading this as an Australian and I’ve missed something out, what other Aussie nicknames can you share that I haven’t yet mentioned? Would love to see what you have!)

Stay tuned for the 2nd Edition of the Name Game!

#angelinewanderland #thirdculture #third culture kid #thirdculturekids #tck #cross culture kid #adult third culture kid #internationalschoolkid

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missfinefeather · 6 years

Photo

Why is there an image of Jade and Jadesprite kissing there? That was in Karkat’s imagination, that didn’t happen! xD

EB: i just don't want to lose anybody else is all. CG: THAT'S JUST HOW IT IS. I'VE LOST FRIENDS FOR WAY MORE POINTLESS REASONS. YOU'RE ALL OUT OF OPTIONS HERE. CG: YOU'D BE RISKING DEATH JUST AS MUCH AS THEY WOULD, AND THEY'RE BETTER QUALIFIED TO HANDLE THE MISSION AS THE DERSE DREAMERS.

I’m still hoping whoever goes gets saved by Aradia...

CG: I'VE TRIED TO TELL HER THAT HER SPRITE SELF IS PROBABLY NOWHERE NEAR AS DESPICABLE AS SHE'S MAKING OUT WITH HERSELF TO BE.

OMG! KARKAT! Mind out of the gutter! xDDD

CG: SHE'D BE DOING ME A MAJOR PERSONAL SOLID BY MAKING AT LEAST SOME ATTEMPT TO GET HERSELF OFF. CG: WAIT CG: FUCK CG: WHAT DID I JUST SAY EB: wow. CG: I MEANT LET HERSELF OFF.

He keeps digging himself deeper! Karkat! Stop while you’re giving head!

Wait... I mean... A HEAD! I meant... I mean, I don’t ship in with John or anything... uhh...

FUCK!

CG: IT'S NOTHING, YOU SHIT. IT HAS BEEN THE CONVERSATIONAL EQUIVALENT OF US WHISTLING THROUGH OUR SNORT BARRELS WHILE TOUCHING EACH OTHER INAPPROPRIATELY.

...okay, I wrote out that last part as a joke, you don’t need to add fuel to it.

CG: ANYWAY, AFTER SHE GIVES THAT TO YOU, SHE THEN HAS TO GO THROUGH WITH THE REST OF THE PLAN, WHICH IS MAKING SURE YOU ALL SURVIVE AFTER THE SCRATCH, MINUS ONE OF THE DERSE DREAMERS OF COURSE.

I’m still hoping we can save both... No, we have to save both. I swear I’ve seen Rose in later things. I doubt we’re going to lose Dave...

CG: I GUESS YOUR ENTIRE ESCAPE PLAN SOMEHOW PIVOTS CRITICALLY AROUND AN UNWATERED PIECE OF RESIDENTIAL PROPERTY???

...what? This is probably a call back to something I’m forgetting...

EB: maybe she could use some protection? maybe that is what dave was just trying to do, when he temporarily died. EB: remember, jack is still on the loose! he has killed rose and dave once, and me twice. CG: NO NO NO NO NO NO. CG: SWEET BLEEDING JEGUS, EGBERT, YOU KEEP BRAGGING ABOUT YOUR IMMORTALITY, AND THEN BRAINLESSLY ANNOUNCE PLANS TO GO OFF AND DO SOMETHING HEROIC! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE THE SHORTEST LIFESPAN OF ANY IMMORTAL IN HISTORY.

xDDD You’re hero complex is going to be the only thing that gets you killed at this point!

CG: HE LINGERS AROUND HER UNTIL THE SCRATCH BEGINS AND I LOSE THE FEED, NEVER ONCE DOING ANYTHING THREATENING. SHE SAYS SHE THINKS IT'S BECAUSE JACK INHERITED LOYALTY OF HER LUSUS. CG: IF SHE'S RIGHT, I GUESS HER LUSUS REALLY DID OFFER HER THE MOST PROTECTION POSSIBLE BY PROTOTYPING ITSELF, ALBEIT BY DOOMING US ALL. THE IDIOT.

Wow, so that’s why Jack doesn’t go out and murder everyone else, he thinks everyone else is dead and he’s sticking around the last person who’s not?

Or maybe his protective instinct kicked in?

CG: OH FUCK, MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE ALL JUST DRESSED LIKE JADE?? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS STROKE OF GENIUS ONLY OCCURRED TO ME NOW. EB: i don't think he would be fooled. dogs have pretty good senses of smell. CG: IT WAS CG: A MOTHERFUCKING CG: JOKE

Hahahaahaha! I missed you Karkat! <3

#hs day 70 #Missfinefeather Liveblogs #Missfinefeather reads Homestuck #homestuck #liveblog #homestuck liveblog #homestuck act 5 #act 5 #blacklist Missfinefeather

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dave-northern · 6 years

Text

Marikina Horror Story

It’s going to be Halloween very soon, and variety shows on TV are already looking for horror stories. I thought that I’d chime in with one of mine.

It was late September about two years ago. Me and my friends were going home from an afternoon of drinking in Marikina Riverpark. It’s this plot of land that goes from Montalban, San Mateo, all the way across Marikina from one side to the other.

There was a place near Riverpark that Typhoon Ondoy destroyed. It’s called Tumana, and it has the lowest standard of living among all the places in Marikina. Many houses there were made from wood and light materials so almost nothing was left standing after the typhoon. It also suffered the greatest casualties.

There was a shortcut from the Riverpark to the main highway connecting to the town proper, and that was Tumana. Walking through there gave us an eerie vibe, not just because of its history with the typhoon but because of its high crime rate. Drinkers and topless tambays of all stripes were outside that night. It was that kind of holiday.

There was a part of Tumana where the street lights tapered off into nothing. It’s a place where the homes weren’t reconstructed and it was just left a wasteland. It was the shortest way to the main road.

There were one or two strays passing through, but even as we passed them they paid us no mind. They had this empty look on their face like they were hollowed inside. Their faces were half-down, like they were mulling over something troubling.

A minute or two of walking and we already felt like we were walking down a provincial road. The street lights faded farther and farther behind until we can only see a twinkling of them. The people became fewer and fewer until we found ourselves alone. We passed through a forest-like part of the town, with trees that have branches hanging down like people, right in front of the road where cars would hit them if only they passed by. There were things that we thought were people until we hit them with the flashlight on our phones and realized we were just scaring ourselves.

But there was something that happened, and up until today I can not forget it.

After about ten minutes of walking without street lights, my friend Jeff stopped and said he’s seeing something in front of us. Off into the distance, about 40 meters or so, there was a man. Or at least it looked like a man. He stood there perfectly still, staring blankly upward.

I thought, what the hell, this would make a perfect opening to an anime about vampires. Teens getting infected and all, trying to hide it from their school and their parents. It’s going to sell in Japan! I was making myself laugh out of this oddity. At least I thought so.

We paused a little bit and tried to compose ourselves. It’s probably just another object that our brains are interpreting as a man. That’s what happens when you put yourself in scary situations, your brain convinces you that what you think is happening is real. It’s a defense mechanism and a damn good one.

I convinced them all to wander closer, and if it was indeed a lunatic, then we could just scram. We walked closer, and closer, and closer--and as if in a blink of an eye, we saw its head rapidly turn toward us.

I almost had a heart attack. Its body didn’t move. It was like one quick inhuman motion. Its arms were raised upward, like running from a disaster, and I can’t help the feeling of dread and hopelessness to fall upon my being.

All of a sudden, I wondered “What are we doing here?” I wanted to be at home with my kids. Then I stopped myself, because I knew I didn’t have kids. I wondered how I could think that.

We walked closer, and closer, and closer. Our hairs raising every minute we get nearer, until finally, we can light it up with our flashlights. One glance, and we already knew what it was.

It was a mud pile that didn’t even resemble a man up close (though it sure did from a distance.) It was three piles, actually. A big one in the front that formed the torso and head, one at the back that formed the arms, and one further back that formed the legs and the mouth.

You see, it seemed like half the mouth was disconnected from top half. From afar, it almost looked like it was screaming with its mouth agape.

We gave ourselves a laugh and made some coarse jokes about who’s a pussy, who’s a BIGGER pussy and who’s the MAIN-BITCH pussy of that mudman among us. But then we pressed on walking.

We were walking farther down the road and we saw the clouds parting. The moon lit up a part of the stretch we were walking on. We thought, thank goodness. At least some of the creepiness can rub off this town. We really couldn’t take anymore.

A few more minutes of this and we just fell silent. We just wanted to get out of this road and into my place, where there was coffee and pancit canton and unlimited horror movies. My place was like a safehouse for strays that don’t have anything to do on holidays.

I kept thinking why I thought I had a family. I can picture the faces of my kids, they were so clear. It was as if I could go home and find them waiting. But the home I had imagined was different. It was a shanty, wooden, tarpaulin on the windows hitting against the rain... when suddenly, I was woken up by these forceful pushes from Connie, one of the people I was with.

She had this pale, stone-faced demeanor. She was trying to say something.

“Dave, wait. Dave--look, wait--”

I tried to make sense of it.

“Look at what? What are you saying?”

“The man--BEHIND!”

Immediately, my head swung behind her, and I can see what looked like the mudman only significantly CLOSER. It was like 10 steps from where she was.

For the amount of time we walked, it should have been long out of sight. I felt this sinking feeling in my chest. I felt like there was impending doom.

Connie was nearly in tears and I consoled her. The rest of the group stopped and looked at the brown effigy with barefaced disbelief. How could it have gotten here without us seeing it? We couldn’t have passed another mud pile or we would know. There was something Connie said that struck a chord with me.

“I have to go home to my kids.”

We thought she referred to her cousins that she was taking care of at the time.

We walked a little further on and made a deal that one of us must keep eyes on the mudman at all times. First it was Connie, then Jeff, then Sai, then me. I took the first shift because Connie was still shaken up. It still looked like mud and stone, in a configuration that made our brains trip up. It got farther and farther until it was Jeff’s turn, and then Sai, and then Connie.

A little further down the road, it was Sai’s turn again, and slowly, she started screaming.

“Hey, hey, HEY, look at it--LOOK AT IT!”

In the distance, we saw the mudman, and I’ll never forget it.

Out of the shadow the cloud, we saw it emerge, and it was running toward us. We heard its footsteps colliding with the dirt road. And I remember this horrific shriek coming toward us in the distance. It was like a man unhinged, like he was burning.

I also remember smelling something foul during that time. Like a pig getting burned alive. I looked around and there was that feeling again. Impending doom. Like I’m about to die.

Jeff started to run and so did we. We ran so frantically toward the main road that we began dropping things.

When we reached the main road, people were looking at us funny, like they didn’t want to talk to us for some reason. I came to a table in front of a sari-sari store where there were people drinking and I said,

“Hinahabol kami! Merong baliw don!”

But they just looked at us suspiciously, and said,

“Balot kayo ng putik.”

And they were right. I had mud all over my shoes and pants. How did I get it? The road was dirt but it wasn’t wet!

Then the tambays told us,

“Wag kayong dadaan d’yan pag dis-oras ng gabi. Nananaginip ang mga patay.”

I asked them, what does that mean?

They said,

“Akala ng mga patay buhay pa sila, kaya sinusubukan nilang umuwi sa mga mahal nila.”

I said,

“Bakit nila kami gustong habulin?”

They said,

“Nakakalimot na sila. Kumakapit lang sila sa lahat ng buhay para makaraos. Sa ngayon d’yan muna sila sa kalsadang ‘yan, pero kinabukasan, lalo na para sa mga kinukuha na ng ibaba, alam nilang wala nang oras.

Naghahanap lang sila ng kasama.”

And that was it. Me and Jeff spoke about that night in our school but no one seemed to believe us. Just a short while later, we were convinced that it didn’t happen and chalked it up to our imagination.

But some nights, I still hear the laughter of children in my dreams and then I smell the stench of mud. A lot of Marikenos have traumatic dreams about what happened in Ondoy but most of us just keep it in the past.

Jeff once told me that he woke up to a bump downstairs when we were in fourth year, and it smelled like there was something burning in the room. Strangely, he found traces of dried earth outside his windowsill the next morning. It was like someone had stepped there with a shoe.

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alvertesongdiary · 3 years

Video

youtube

Dave feat. Stormzy - Clash

[Chorus: Dave, Headie One] Jordan 4s or Jordan 1s, Rolexes, got more than one My AP cost thirty-one, millimeters: forty-one Stick him up with a stick-stick, he drew the shorter one You can't short me one, in the club with the shortest one Lighty, the shortest one, on my mind, Jorja one Crocodile bag, I bought her one, vegan ting, I slaughter one Freaks, I got more than one, fuck, daddy and daughter one (One) Tory puttin' in labour, this that Jeremy Corbyn one

[Verse 1: Dave] Awkward one, race me there, wait, hare, tortoise one I need a ting, thirty plus, Blackberry and Walkman 1's Look, I left my phone and my babies, silent mode My guys on ridin' mode, zombies, survival mode He's got a new vest? Man, pop that shield, no microphone I'll ride for bro, he's next to I like typin' O The score: 5 and 0, 6-to-1 For the kicks I love, twelve-fifty-four like 6-to-1 Babe, can't look at my mentions, that's Area 51 I'm so close to my pension, my left wrist is sixty-one My left wrist retiring, mm My apprentice tryna give Alan Sugar, there's no way I can—

[Chorus: Dave] Jordan 4s or Jordan 1s, Rolexes, got more than one My AP cost thirty-one, millimeters: forty-one Stick him up with a stick-stick, he drew the shorter one You can't short me one, in the club with the shortest one Lighty, the shortest one, on my mind, Jorja one Crocodile bag, I bought her one, vegan ting, I slaughter one Freaks, I got more than one, fuck, daddy and daughter one (One) Tory puttin' in labour, this that Jeremy Corbyn one

[Verse 2: Stormzy] Overrated one, most hated one Slid 'round after his birthday, gave him a happy belated one Burned that bridge, cremated one, boom-boom, bailiff one Got away with murder, this that Viola Davis one They stop and stare, watch rare, clear, stainless one Debate this one, hatin'-niggas gonna hate this one, ah I live life on the high, might fly to Dubai with the guys 'cause the weather's been shit I can wear a different kettle every day of the month from a different— Rollies, got twenty-one, I been lit since twenty-one Girl, I need that gently one, that Savage and Fenty one, hmm Dave's got the new Aston Martin plug, could you send me one? He said "No need to be rentin' one" Big flexes, inventin' one, cold, cold My bros don't chat, we just wear all-black on a blend-in one Man are talkin' war, don't know 'bout war 'til you end in one The machine got sweets, on a vending one Needed a hit, could have penned him one, 'cah you're pendin' one Aight, she wanna go to the cinema, so we just walk downstairs (Walk downstairs) The mortgage cleared, we've overtaken all our peers (All our peers) After all these years, disrespect is all I hear I'm Pep, I ball with flair Off the set, they storm like, off the set, they storm like Piers That's what I call mornin' tears Them man are talkin' bare, but it's cool 'cause—

[Verse 3: Dave] I got my ting so I'm more than good, anytime that I walk my hood I got the Jordan 4s and 6s, all I need now is Jordyn Woods Don't get caught for pus, don't die for nyash We slide and crash, sixteen, don't write and clash Sixteen, don't battlerap She got the WAP and a wap, what are you thinkin'? Mans on simpin', I'll buy her a car like a pair of—

27/07/2021

#dave #stormzy #clash #lyrics #music #youtube #song of the day #diary #music video #grime

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stunudo · 6 years

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BAU Prep School AU

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Dirty Laundry

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country.

April 10, 2017 7:06pm

Emily Prentiss hated her required time on the Booster Club teacher’s panel, but at least she didn’t have to suffer alone. Elle was supposed to be here sharing in the cringe-worthy parents and regents. Apparently Emily wasn’t the only who noticed the empty seat beside her, Mr. Ryan was giving her quite the side-eye. The students were leading the meeting as it was the final one before the end of the year and the preparations for the Alumni Association Gala were kept under wraps so not to spoil the experience.

“Coach Jareau will be hosting a soccer tournament on campus at the end of the month, I have the volunteer sheets with me for various tables, concessions and items needed. Nurse Callahan leaves it posted outside of her office, since it is closest to the field house, during school hours.” Michel continued, cupping and wringing their hands as they read through their agenda enthusiastically.

“We are grateful for Coach Morgan and the football team for volunteering for most of the unskilled slots, but we would still like a few more parent volunteers,” Cissy added.

“That’s the 29th, Mr. Foyet?” Mr. Ryan asked over his reading glasses.

“Yes,” Cissy answered for her flustered friend. Michel shuddered at the title and gathered themselves quickly as Ms. Greenaway stormed in and plopped down at the staff table. Mr. Cruz and President Strauss shared a glance at the tardiness of the young teacher.

Emily couldn’t contain her cough as the aroma surrounding Elle filled her nose and mouth. She smelled like she had crawled out of an aging barrel.

“What’d I miss?” Elle asked, hanging her jacket off the back of the chair.

“Just current events,” Emily whispered, eyes still on the student table. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, why?” Elle asked, slightly annoyed.

“Well, you’re late.” Emily scratched behind her ear. Elle rolled her eyes, and took out a folder with notes and fliers from Penelope. The meeting continued quickly, agenda very easily conveyed by the dedicated junior, Michel. The regents and parents didn’t have much to add as they had reached their threshold for questioning with the mess of the winter months.

“Staff? Anything to add?” President Strauss asked to cover all the bases.

“Yes, thanks.” Elle started then cracked a smile and had to stop herself from laughing at the look of impatient across the regents’ faces. “Ms. Garcia says that Chef Rossi and Mr. Anderson are well on their way to the most successful and elegant Alumni Gala yet. Invitations will be out within the next two weeks.”

“Penelope and Grant are working around the clock on this.” Emily added, watching Elle’s eyes droop as she exhaled dramatically after reading her note card. “Headmaster Hotchner hopes to raise enough for a staff retreat over the summer as well as a student leadership seminar in the fall.”

“Those are certainly ambitious goals,” Mr. Cruz added. “Does he have estimated costs for these outings?”

“He does,” Emily nodded, grabbing the proposals she received from Hotch and walking them over. Elle stood and followed her, adding some sheets from Penelope, nearly falling back into her seat.

“These look well planned out,” President Strauss added. “We’ll look over these and touch base after the totals are all in. Thank you, Ms. Prentiss and, uh-hm, Ms. Greenaway.”

“No prob.” Elle said lazily.

“I think that is everything we have,” Emily clasped her hands on top of her notes.

“Very well, if that is all current items. I move that we adjourn.” Mr. Cruz suggested.

“Seconded.” Mr. Ryan and Michel said simultaneously.

“So moved.” The gavel struck the sounding block, allowing Emily to grab Elle by the elbow and drag her into the side hallway off the Delaney Owens’ Memorial Library.

“What is your problem?!” Elle huffed.

“You tell me, Elle.” Emily stared down the younger woman and waited. Elle stuck out her chin and refused to break eye contact with the English teacher. Emily shook her head, “Fine, act like one of the students. But show up trashed to another school event and I go straight to Hotch.”

“Relax, I just needed some liquid courage before facing the three amigos in there.” Elle explained, offhandedly.

“Not the best idea.”

“Yeah, well, we were just fillers in there anyway. Hotch and Garcia were who they really want, but this stupid requirement makes us sub in anyway.”

“Because it’s fair this way, let them have a night off once in awhile.” Emily was really holding back.

“Aren’t you tired, Emily?”

“Not particularly.”

“That’s not what I meant. Aren’t you tired of being the leftovers?” Elle asked almost nervously. Emily wasn’t sure everything that was going on with her colleague, but it was obviously more than attending an arbitrary meeting.

“Let’s get you home, Greenaway, before I lose my better judgement.” Emily drove the woman home in near silence, her death metal a calm undercurrent to the ride.

April 13 3:20pm

“I heard it was heroin, I mean, look at the guy; he is so skinny!” Lizzie whispered not too discreetly to Hannah and Camille’s work table during the last few minutes of AP Physics. Her lab partner, rolling his eyes at her tactless gossiping.

“Come on, Liz, do you really thing your mom, would keep him on staff if he was on heroin?” Camille countered, keeping her head down while working on an equation.

“I don’t know, what if he is really good at hiding it?” Hannah pointed out.

“Okay, but doesn’t he have like a recluse mom or something? He has chess club and tutoring, he doesn’t even have time to date.” Camille was getting worked up and her friends noticed.

“Wow, Cam, you sure know the pipe cleaner’s schedule.” Hannah teased.

“Yeah, I mean, perhaps you could ask him about his drug problem. Since you know him so well?” Lizzie tucked her hair behind her ear, as her tone shifted.

“Shut up, Lizzie.” Camille turned beet red.

“Dr. Reid?” Lizzie’s hand shot in the air just as the final bell burst through the halls. Camille grabbed her friend’s arm and pulled it down, denying Lizzie to ask whatever embarrassing thing she was bound to follow with.

Dr. Reid turned and looked at the front of the class, confusion pulling at his brow.

“Never mind, Dr. Reid.” Camille replied, covering Lizzie’s mouth with her notebook.

“Have a good weekend!” Hannah added, helping to drag Lizzie away from the unsuspecting teacher.

“Enjoy your break, ladies.” Spencer Reid replied, confused as ever with the opposite gender.

April 26 7:28am

“Hiya Boy Wonder!” Penelope gushed as she came sauntering into his first period class mere moments before roll call.

“Ms. Garcia?” Dr. Reid was startled. “What do you need?”

“What makes you say that?”

“You use flattery to soften your victims before you get them to do your bidding.” Spencer smirked at the blonde as she started fiddling with things on his demonstration table. “Don’t touch that. Penelope!” His voice jumping in volume before she opened the gas line.

“So, uh, you have your tutoring group tonight, right?” She asked coyly as she slid an envelope across the table to him.

“Are you bribing me?” Spencer’s eyes shot around the room ensuring they weren’t being over heard.

“What? No!” Penelope motioned in the air as if to whisk away the idea. “Just give this to, uh, Coach Morgan for me?”

“Penelope, I’m not your mail carrier.” Dr. Reid held the letter in the air, meaning to return it.

“You’re a peach!” Penelope grinned and walked back out of the room. “Thanks!”

He was left with his entire Chemistry class staring back at him as he waved a not so secret love letter in the air.

“She’s not very stealth.” Lucas pointed out.

“Tell me about it,” the teacher agreed.

April 26 1:09pm

“Honestly, this was the shortest--,” Alex chuckled. “The shortest line, but he refused. REFUSED to get in it.”

“Where do you think your stubbornness comes from?” Dave teased, sauteing a divine dish as they spoke. “How was the game?”

“Too close, but they won.”

“Not going to be doing much of that this season.” The chef added haughtily. The brunette threw the chunk of bread she was picking at, towards her ex-husband’s face, he easily dodged the assault.

“Your Cubs have one season and you think it’s the rapture.”

“Your point?”

Hotch had been observing the pair bantering over baseball in the doorway. It was a level of intimacy that he didn’t want to intrude on, but his stomach had more primal ideas. The rolling of hunger pulled the couple’s eyes to the young Headmaster.

“Here he is!” Dave grinned, “Thought you forgot about little, ole me.”

“I may have, but can’t argue with basic needs.” Hotch smirked, patting his flat stomach.

“I’m glad you showed, he wasn’t going to let me have any until you arrived.” Alex Blake shrugged as she claimed a stool at an empty preparations counter.

“Says who?” Chef Rossi argued.

“I know what stalling looks like, Dave.” Alex held up her hands against the eye daggers shooting her way.

“Alright, you two.” Hotch cleared the comedic flirtations with his low voice.

“Order up.” The amused chef served the two ravenous educators, watching proudly as they dug into lunches. Alex hurried away with the class bell, leaving Hotch to help clear her spot.

April 28 9:40am

Erin Strauss didn’t know why she was nervous as she walked up the stairs to the second floor of the school that Friday morning. Sure, she was rarely in the building during school hours and the last few interactions with this particular teacher had been less than pleasant. But, she had somehow come to the conclusion that this conversation needed to take place, and she wasn’t one to back down when her mind had been set.

It was there in her shoulders, Erin could see it, the heaviness settled in on such a young body. Lizzie had private language tutors, which left Erin with only tertiary experience with the Spanish teacher. Perhaps it was her years of sobriety, accented by her years of motherhood, but she finally accepted that she was compelled to say something. She shifted her bag in her hands, knocking on the open frame before stepping inside the simple office.

“Adelante. Come in. Venien--” Elle paused as she acknowledged the visitor.

“Morning, Ms. Greenaway.” Erin Strauss offered gently. “Do you mind if we talk?”

April 29 6:22am

Jennifer Jareau expertly entered the field house with a tray of coffees in each hand. The meager early morning cheers she received from her volunteers would have to be her motivation for the day, unnecessarily swearing off caffeine during her pregnancy. She handed out the assorted drinks and pre-opening assignments in a blur.

Derek and the majority of the varsity football team arrived in packs, rolling in just before registration began. There were eight other schools attending the tournament, as hosting campus, FBI was not participating. This left JJ to facilitate to the best of her abilities and kept her out of the spotlight of the sidelines. Though her name was plastered over every flier and social media reminder for the event, she insisted on making it about the school and not about her celebrity.

Stephen and the pep band shuffled to the center of the basketball court, preparing for the national anthem. The bleachers were a patchwork of the masses, teenage girls in every colored jersey bunched together awaiting the first round of games. Line judges and referees were huddled near the first aid station, manned by the enthusiastic Nurse Callahan and her friend, Gary helping out, once again. JJ was pleased with the turn out and especially the good publicity the school was getting, eyeing the camera crews from some local station and internet sports broadcasts present.

After the general welcome, rules and the anthem was sung, JJ was free to slip back into the coordinator role. But not before a tall stranger approached her, “So who’s the lucky guy?”

“Excuse me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” JJ eyed the man cautiously.

“Come one, JJ. You’re what, four months along by now?”

“Who are you?” JJ demanded, crossing her arms, wishing Derek or Heathridge were around to show this guy out, right about now.

“Just a fan,” He smiled easily, his almond eyes kind despite his pressing questions. “I covered your team at the World Cup in ‘07, but I don’t think you remember me.”

“You’re a reporter?” JJ glanced around for a hidden camera. “I don’t know what kind of story you think you’re getting, pal, but-”

“And my niece is one of your players?” He waved as an enthusiastic Hannah came running into his arms, he effortlessly lifted the teenager into the air.

“Weh-sukbu!” Hannah said, “I didn’t know you were in the country!”

“Which is what makes it a surprise.” The man hugged the girl and set her back down before they both turned to JJ. “I was just re-introducing myself to your coach.”

“Ugh, gross.” Hannah teased. “Sorry, Coach Jareau, my uncle thinks he’s funny. I hope he wasn’t being his pushy-self.”

“I’m not working today,” Matt Simmons casually hooked his thumbs in the belt loops on his fitted jeans. “But it was nice seeing you, Miss Jareau. Make sure this one does her laps, eh?”

The duo wandered off towards the concessions, the invading man messing up the girl’s hair mercilessly. JJ didn’t remember ever meeting the man before, but something about his approach left her on edge. Other than a few petty disagreements with the refs, the remaining tournament went off without a hitch. JJ’s back was killing her when she drove away from the school grounds late in the day, leaving Anderson and some groundskeepers with the last of the clean up. Between the parents’ comments and other coaches’ feedback; she knew they had done a great job, but hoped it was reflected in the funds raised.

April 30 11:12am Brunch

The waitress wasn’t sure why the man dressed like her grandfather was twitching nervously with his water glass until his companion walked in, clearly this woman was above of this guy’s comfort zone. She re-approached the table to refill his coffee.

“Anything for you, dear?” She casually asked the blonde woman.

“Water is fine, thanks.” Her smile didn’t quite meet her ice blue eyes. “How are you doing, Spence? It feels like ages since we talked.”

“It has been seven months and some change, since we have had a non-work related conversation, so ages isn’t too far off, I suppose.” Spencer scrunched his nose, trying to calm his racing heart. “But I am doing well, thanks. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you well?”

“Oh, ha!” JJ smiled. “Yes, much better now that the tournament is behind me for the year.”

“That’s great! I know Derek was impressed with all the details such an endeavor requires.” Spencer glanced back at the menu, though the words were already safe in his mind.

“All day events are a strategic nightmare, but I had a lot of help.” JJ turned back to the menu. Spencer waited a cool four minutes and thirteen seconds before approaching the subject.

“Anything else new with you?” Spencer was horrible at small talk.

“No, not really.” JJ shook her head with a comical frown.

“JJ?” Spencer ducked down, trying to catch her eyes from hiding in the menu again. “JJ, its alright, I know.”

“You know?”

“About the baby. Elle told me.” Spencer shrugged, sliding his glass over one half inch. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, you two have been rather close.” JJ admitted. “Besides, it’s not like it isn’t obvious by now.

“No, that’s not what I-” Spencer stammered. “You look gr- gor. You’re beautiful.”

“Easy for you to say!” JJ laughed. “Spence, it’s okay. I don’t mind my bump.”

“Good, you shouldn’t. It suits you.”

“Ready to order?” The waitress broke the awkwardness by her sheer presence. After taking away their one distraction, the conversation inched forward.

“So how’s your mom?” JJ scratched her head, wishing she had come better prepared.

“Doing quite well, actually, her aide has been phenomenal. I really think she is on the right track, after so long.” Spencer pursed his lips, proud of Diana’s progress.

“That’s great! So is she going out yet or having people over more?”

“She has a group she meets with twice a week at a local clinic, which she hardly ever misses. If everything continues on her current trajectory, she should be able to be in an assisted living situation or a retirement facility by early next year.” Spencer’s excitement was palpable, allowing JJ to relax.

“That’s fantastic. I know you hadn’t seen improvement in quite sometime, I am really happy for you, for you both.” JJ dug into her Belgian waffles, letting the fluffy grids soak up the sugary goodness.

“JJ, I want you to know, if you need anything now or in the future; I am more than willing to step in to help.” Spencer blurted out as the waitress handed them their to go containers.

“Thanks?” JJ replied, confused.

“I mean it.” Spencer reached over and took her hand. “It isn’t fair to you to do this all on your own. I have seen firsthand the toll single parenthood takes. Let me help you, JJ.”

“Spencer! What are you doing?” JJ was floored. “I am not exactly helpless, you know.”

“I know you’re not, but a baby needs a lot.” Spencer sighed. “I don’t know what happened between you and Emily and it is none of my business. But if you need a partner in this,” he gestured toward her growing belly. “I am more than willing to be the father.”

“Oh, Spencer.” JJ’s eyes filled with hopeless tears. “You know I can’t do that.”

Very Special Thanks to Cassie @mentallydatingspencerreid,

Meg @imagicana , and Loki @ay-nako!!!

@ddreammcatcher @ultrarebelheart @lightbluelester @criminal-anatomy @captainreid @thebadyears @amarislestrange @shaelyn102 @badasprentiss @fl0werb0nes18 @inestava @sam-carter-in-training @wonderboygenius @fortheloveofpearlet @valentina-pendragon-blog @imarockstar45 @chocok22 @cynbx @fairymega @madamredwrites @doctorspencerreidrp @mindsunleashed @dontshootmespence @bookofreid @marvelfanlife @welp-there-it-is @ilikeitwhenyousleepforyouareso @remember-me-forever-silent-angel @original-criminal-fanfics @derpyprentiss @olicia-leeshy @lookwhatyoumademequeue @veroinnumera @sarahkay-19 @sammles27 @lesbian-asajj @teatimewithtiya @braziliangirlonasharkcity @alienlynz @janam03 @nobravery @clockworkballerina @whymesswperfection @hagridsmumhasgotitgoingon @brooke0297 @xxmaddhatter39xx @gurliest @handpaintedgalaxy @kxlley @krazykendraisnotinsane @bat-crazydoll8 @hownottobeaheartbreaker @captainreid @beereadsthings @prettyboysjello @megsi98 @criminal-prentiss @eternaldarknessiscool @loadingdelete @tinydancer26 @sydneymikayla @blabla412 @pleinemoon @pebblesinthelake @iamaquaria @megsi98 @prettyboysjello

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daleisgreat · 3 years

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WrestleMania 36

Welcome to my annual WrestleMania-week entry where I recap the previous year’s WrestleMania (WM). Please indulge me for a bit, because the 2020 show had so many unprecedented circumstances going into it that it will require a bit of a prologue before I evaluate the card. For those that remember 2020’s installment of WWE’s biggest PPV of the year, it will be remembered as a WM like no other (hopefully!). For the better part of the latter half of WM history, the event has transpired in mammoth outdoor stadiums and/or sports arenas, oftentimes with inflated attendance numbers of well over 50,000. WWE would spare no expense with elaborate entrance stage sets, live band/artist performances, major celebrity/sports guests, etc. That all changed with 2020’s WrestleMania 36. WWE was set to roll forward with a pirate-themed WM, with countless pirate-themed ads, signage and a meticulous CG montage of WWE wrestlers decked out in pirate gear, and animated waves splashing against them while doing heroic sword-slashing poses to open the show. However, as we all know by now plans drastically altered, when with under a month before WM36’s original date of April 5th, the worldwide Co-Vid pandemic was declared on March 11th. This promptly shutdown a majority of travel and businesses internationally for the better part of the next two months before businesses and travel restrictions started to ease up, at least here in the United States. No one knew how long the shutdown was going to last, so WWE hastily taped the matches at their Performance Center training facilities, while rumored the tapings lasted up until the final hours before the lockdown went into effect in Florida.

This would mean for the first time in WM history, the even would be taped, and not on a short several hour delay ala Summerslam ‘92, but taped a couple weeks in advance! WWE officials allegedly were warning of severe consequences if spoilers leaked. Upon re-watching this WM36, it is still jaw-dropping to see the show associated with said large sports arenas and near six figures of fans was now emanating in front of ZERO fans in a small black-curtained off area of a training facility. Since the Network-era of WM PPVs in 2014, most of the events have went notoriously long around the six-to-seven hour mark when factoring in a two hour pre-show. While WWE was marketing yet another loaded 16-match card that would likely last that long, it seemed highly undesirable to force fans to watch that long of a show with zero fan atmosphere so WWE for the first time split WM into two nights on April 4th and 5th. On previous WM recaps here I advocated for two-night WMs because those one night marathons pushed alert limits to new levels, so I was relieved to hear WWE announce the two-night event. Keep in mind this was a few weeks into the pandemic, well before WWE started experimenting with NXT talent as fans for a couple months before eventually settling on the ubiquitous video walls of virtual fans at the Thunderdome that major WWE telecasts currently transpire in.

Usually the yearly WWE Hall of Fame ceremony is included with the BluRay as a bonus feature, but the 2020 ceremony that was slated to happen on WM36 weekend was postponed a year, and transpired earlier this week the same night with the 2021 inductees. Out of sheer habit and self-imposed obligation, I will give a quick breakdown of the 2020 half of the ceremony. It took place at the Thunderdome with Jerry Lawler back hosting, and in order to breeze through so many inductions there was no inductors, and some inductees like the Bellas were told they had a five minute time limit for their speeches. The 2020 Hall of Fame class is the nWo (Hulk Hogan, Scott Hall, Kevin Nash, Sean Waltman), British Bulldog, Jushin Thunder Liger, Nickie & Brie Bella, Justin Bradshaw Layfield, Warrior Award winner Titus ‘O Neil and representing the celebrity wing: William Shatner. Dave Batista was supposed to be inducted too, but he postponed his induction because of a scheduling conflict and wanted to accept in person. It was kind of odd seeing the Hall of Fame done with virtual fans, but WWE did their best with piping in artificial fan noise at appropriately timed references and jokes, and even fake chants when the hall of famers hit their catchphrases. A nice video recap aired for each inductee, and then most inductees gave roughly five minute speeches. JBL kicked off, and for a five minute speech he hit as many key highlights as he could in that short time allocated, and had a nice closing where he teased a heartfelt apology to locker room rivals. Some inductees like Shatner and Liger could not attend, but sent in brief, pre-recorded acceptance speeches. One inadvertent positive side effect was Liger’s speech was translated through subtitles, and there was no pauses to wait for the translator that would happen if it was done live. Shatner’s breezy speech took a fun jab at Lawler, and was to the point. Between each induction, brief backstage interviews were done with current WWE stars acknowledging how big a night this was for the legends and shared past stories and memories. Davey Boy Smith’s son, Harry, alongside Bulldog’s widow, Diana and Matilda’s granddaughter, Huffy, gave an affectionate induction to his father.

The “Legacy Wing” of the Hall of Fame occurred next, and the 2020 class was represented by Ray Stevens, Brickhouse Brown, “Dr. Death” Steve Williams, Baron Michele Leone and Gary Hart. A very deserving Titus ‘O Neil was recognized with the annual Warrior Award for his countless philanthropic efforts, and Titus gave an inspirational and heartwarming acceptance. The Bellas were expectedly on brand with their speeches, and each of the four nWo members shared some fun Monday Night Wars tales, except for Scott Hall who said only about 20 words. Hogan teased he never lost the nWo Title and that he would make a return to defend it. All told the 2020 portion of the ceremony was about an hour and a half, making it the shortest WWE Hall of Fame ceremony in quite some time! 2020 was undoubtedly a tough year on everyone. Come that WM36 weekend I, like many others, was in a rough place. Being a few weeks into the pandemic I had no idea what to make sense of on the news. I originally had a vacation planned for a week starting a few days before WM where I was going to be travelling out of town for a retro videogame convention I try and hit up most years, and it would have conveniently wrapped up shortly before WM started. As anticipated, the convention was cancelled, and in a crazy coincidence the day before I originally was planning to leave a water pipe burst in my home and my place had all kinds of water damage and furniture moved around for several days before it was all put back into place and cleaned up. Adding to the coincidental timing, night one of WM happened to be on my birthday, and this was early in the pandemic before masks were widely available and a lot of adherence to the lockdown and social distancing was being recommended and I felt gutted when family members wanted to celebrate and all I told them I felt safe doing was briefly visiting a few of them on my driveway. Needless to say, with all that going on my headspace had seen better days, and having WM36 to selfishly fall back on that weekend was a modicum of respite I desperately needed.

Thank you for indulging me with all that prefacing. With that all out of the way, it is time to move onward to looking at night one of WM36. Both nights of WM36 had a half hour kickoff show, with one match on each kickoff show that are included as BluRay bonuses. Night one saw Cesaro and Drew Gulak tear it up in a hard-hitting, five minute technical showcase with Cesaro getting the win with a momentous Airplane Spin. Stephanie McMahon gave a special introduction to the unique circumstances that were forced upon WM36 once the show officially began. I will give props to WWE for their contingency plan when their planned special artist to sing “America the Beautiful” could not make the event, and instead WWE went with a medley/montage of all past WM artists and bands like Little Richard, Aretha Franklin, Boyz 2 Men, Ray Charles and many more singing the anthem that traditionally kicks off WM. From there, four-time Super Bowl winner and host of WM36, Rob Gronkowski welcomed everyone, and his real-life friend and WWE star, Mojo Rawley, joined him in the hosting balcony. The first official WM36 match was for the Women’s Tag Titles with Asuka & Kari Sayne defending against Alexa Bliss & Nikki Cross. I miss Kari Sayne, and am still in disbelief how WWE wrote her off TV a few months later via implied murder! Kari & Asuka’s foreign taunting and screaming helped fill the void of no crowd noise to an extent, but was not enough for them to retain after Alexa pinned Kari with her Twisted Bliss to win the gold for her and Nikki. Baron Corbin faced Elias who Baron thought would be unable to compete after recently tossing him off a balcony, but Elias made it in time to whack Baron with a guitar, and eventually Corbin’s jawjacking with the ref got the best of him as Elias capitalized with a roll-up for the win in this brief fan favorite arc of his character. Becky Lynch defended the RAW Women’s Title against Shayna Baszler next. Becky was near the end of her red-hot year+ long reign as champ here, but this bout had a peculiar build highlighted by Shayna bloodily biting Becky’s ear. This also-peculiar match saw Becky mostly taking a ground attack beating from Shayna until Becky pulled off a reverse pinning combination for the sudden win.

Sami Zayn defended his Intercontinental Title next against Daniel Bryan. Zayn was accompanied by Cesaro & Shinsuke Nakamura while Bryan was seconded by Drew Gulak. Interference from all three played a factor throughout this intense battle, with a distracted Bryan falling victim to Sami’s Haluva Kick for the victory. The Smackdown Tag Titles were on the line next in a triple threat ladder match, but with only one member from each team due to Miz being quarantined for Co-Vid symptoms. So that meant John Morrison defended the tag titles solo against Kofi Kingston of the New Day and Jimmy Uso. The three did not disappoint with many creative highspots and sequences, with a unique finish that saw all three unhook the tag titles at the same time and Morrison collapsing off the ladder with the titles after a tug-of-war battle with them to successfully retain the titles. Seth Rollins faced Kevin Owens next, and Owens continued his awesome tradition of paying homage to vintage WM posters, with a nod to WMIV’s poster design on his shirt. Rollins DQ’d himself early in the match after using the ring bell, but Owens goads Rollins into restarting the match with No DQ. This time Owens repeatedly hits Rollins with the bell to lay him out long enough for Owens to climb on top of the WM sign to deliver a Cannonball Splash through the announcer’s table in an eye-opening spot. Owens then dragged a lifeless Seth to the ring to execute a Stunner for the win. A WM host check-in with Mojo and Gronk was interrupted by Hardcore 24/7 champion, R-Truth, who was seeking refuge from all comers up in the host balcony, but instead fell to a gut-punch from Gronk, only to see Mojo sneak in a quick pin and run off from his hosting duties as the new 24/7 champ.

The Universal Title match was up next that was scheduled to have Bill Goldberg defend against Roman Reigns. Several days before the WM tapings however, Roman Reigns shocked everyone by legitimately pulling out of the match due to understandable Co-Vid concerns from having underlying health issues from being a two-time Leukemia survivor. With such short notice, WWE did not have time to build a storyline replacement for last minute substitute, Braun Strowman, and only briefly publicly declared the substitution during a rundown of all the matches the day before on Smackdown. The match was a quick smashmouth flurry of finishers, with Goldberg unable to pin Braun after four straight spears, and instead Braun achieving the pin and Universal title after unleashing four straight powerslams.

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The main event for night one of WM36 was the cinematic “Boneyard Match” between AJ Styles and The Undertaker. For those not keeping up with pandemic-era WWE, the first few PPVs of the pandemic saw the inclusion of one or two matches on each PPV shot in the form of a movie, often without commentary and instead ambient music in the background. I embedded the match above (or click or press here to check it out) for those who have not seen it, because if you are a lapsed fan and have not witnessed it yet, the match garnered surprise acclaim from both wrestling and non-wrestling fans. It saw AJ and ‘Taker duke it out in a dilapidated graveyard, complete with Eastwood-esque trash talk, mystical druids, old-school ‘Taker dark magic, Good Brothers, motorcyles and Metallica. It was freaking great, and a much needed distraction from the empty arena. The finish saw ‘Taker big boot AJ into an empty grave, and dump a truckload of dirt on him to gracefully exit the “Boneyard” on his motorcycle with Metallica singing him out. As of this writing, this was Undertaker’s last match, and going by his latest interviews it sounds like he is indeed hanging it up for good this time, especially after WWE threw him a “final farewell” retirement-esque ceremony on the character’s 30th anniversary several months later at Survivor Series. Still with me for night two coverage of WM36? Take a break, grab a Steve-weiser, and relax for my night two coverage! The kickoff match saw Liv Morgan usurp Natalya with a reverse roll-up after a solid back-and-forth match. Night two officially started with Rhea Ripley defending the NXT Women’s Title against Charlotte Flair. Sorry to report that I am not a big fan of either of these two, and this match did not sit well with me either as it was mostly Flair working over Rhea’s leg until she locked in the Figure-Eight for the tapout win. Charlotte’s NXT title run wound up being a disaster, and she did not put over anyone while she was champ there. Onto better things as Aleister Black and Bobby Lashley squared off next. I completely forgot Lashley was married to Lana at this point in his character, but that would change soon after this as Lana urged Lashley to switch up finishing moves on Black, which backfired and saw Aleister connect with his Black Mass finisher for the pin. Next up saw Dolph Ziggler face Otis in the apex of a meticulous storyline where Otis fell victim to Dolph’s treachery when trying to win the heart of Mandy Rose. Mandy’s former friend Sonya Deville was assisting Dolph throughout the match until Mandy ran out to take care of her, which set up Otis to hit his outrageous Caterpillar finish for the win, and the happy uniting with Rose which tried its darnd-est to be on the same level with Randy Savage and Elizabeth from WMVII.

The next match was Edge’s big return singles match against Randy Orton after coming back at the Royal Rumble a couple months earlier. The buildup to this bout was impressive too, with Edge, Orton and Beth Phoenix all having emotional and investing promos leading up to this. This was a Last Man Standing match that saw the two battle all over the Performance Center throughout the backstage area, offices, training facilities and parking areas before reaching its final act on top of a semi where the two traded finishing moves until Edge hit a con-chair-toe for the 10-count win. The match held up much better on second viewing, and is best to watch it on its own as it lasted nearly 40 minutes. Shortly after this, Mojo Rawley re-emerged into the ringside area fending off 24/7 Title pursuers. Gronk took this moment upon himself to leap onto the pile of wrestlers from the host balcony and pin Mojo to win the 24/7 Title, a belt he would hold for a couple months until shortly after un-retiring from football where a sneaky R-Truth would roll-up Gronk for the title in his yard while filming a Tik-Toc video….seriously. Titus ‘O Neil would shortly arrive later to wrap-up hosting duties for Gronk for the remainder of the show. The RAW Tag Titles were on the line next with the Street Profits defending against Angel Garza and Austin Theory, who was a last minute sub for an injured Andrade. This was a quick five minute recharge bout, with the four competitors all staying in third gear throughout it for a non-stop action affair. Angelo Dawkins pinned Theory after a surprise splash from Montez Ford. The Smackdown Women’s Title 5-Way Elimination match followed with Bayley defending against Lacey Evans, Sasha Banks, Tamina and Naomi. Sasha and Bayley team up for a lot of early success, until their teamwork fails and Sasha falls victim to Lacey’s Women’s Right leaving it down to Lacey and Bayley. Right when it looks like Lacey has Bayley’s number, Sasha returned with a Backstabber on Lacey, which allowed Bayley to follow that up by driving Lacey down to the mat for the win.

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The cinematic match of the second night was a “Firefly Funhouse” bout between “The Fiend” Bray Wyatt and John Cena. I have no idea where to begin describing this one. Essentially, Bray Wyatt suffers from multiple-personality disorder, and in this match Cena journeys to Wyatt’s multi-dimensional funhouse. It is filled with decades of pro-wrestling references that sees Cena and Wyatt cut Saturday Night’s Main Event-era promos on each other, join the nWo and relive Cena’s debut against Kurt Angle. I swear I am up not making any of this up! Just check out the embed above or click or press here to see for yourself! This cinematic match did not quite measure up to the Boneyard match, but was still an entertaining spectacle to experience with the deluge of references and callbacks to wrestling history. Eventually “The Fiend” pinned Cena with his Mandible Claw (while Bray Wyatt counted the pin, just roll with it), and the live feed then cut to a confused Titus ‘O Neil proclaiming what we all were thinking “I have no idea what we just saw.” The main event of night two saw Brock Lesnar defending the WWE Title against Drew McIntyre. This was built up as Drew’s big redemption story after being fired from WWE several years earlier, and it taking him 16 years to win his first major championship. It was too bad it all played out in the empty performance center, but the duo made the best of it with another instant hard hitting affair similar to the Braun/Goldberg match. After a little bit of early brawling, Brock hit three F5s which Drew all kicked out of, and then Drew countered with three straight Claymore kicks to be crowned the WWE champion for the feel-good closing of the show. What aired on RAW the next night, but actually transpired about 20 minutes after the Brock match and is on here as a BluRay bonus feature is Drew coming back to the ring for a victory interview only to be interrupted and challenged for the title by Big Show. Drew accepts the challenge, and after taking a pounding from Big Show for several minutes, Drew recovers and fires back with a Claymore for his first successful title defense. Drew has went on to be “the guy” for RAW for the better part of the next year, and while it feels he has been fulfilling that role, it is impossible to tell without a live, paying, audience, and I am curious to see how Drew is received at WM37 this weekend against Lashley.

The WM35 BluRay had the 2019 Hall of Fame as a digital bonus feature, and on the disc it had the entirety of the next night’s RAW, and a couple segments from the next Smackdown. The WM36 BluRay went down a different road with its bonus features, and aside from the two bonus kickoff matches and the post-WM Drew/Big Show match, there is about two hours of accumulated interviews, promos and segments from the previous two months of RAW, Smackdown and NXT. I watched them all, and it was a nice refresher of all the rivalries, although awkward at the same time, because about half of the segments still have fans in the arena which felt weird to see again after so long with empty/virtual arenas. Some highlights include a couple vintage Paul Heyman hype promos, AJ Styles and the Goodbrothers messing with Undertaker, the awful Rhea Ripley/Charlotte Flair interactions from NXT and Randy Orton’s epic must-see promo on Beth Phoenix for why he attacked Edge. It would be unfair of me to give a traditional yay/nay grade to WrestleMania 36 due to how the event barely came together at the final hour in the early stages of the pandemic. Seeing a lot of these matches in the empty Performance Center simply feels weird, and proved constantly difficult to suspend disbelief and get into the pro-wrestling fan mindset during viewing. The two cinematic matches are what essentially helped get me back into “fan mode” and get invested in the unique nature of those two bouts, and if you have to watch two matches from this show, then those two are the way to go. The two “slobberknocker” world title brawls are also quick, intense matches that are worth checking out. Once again, I love the two-night concept as it serves as a perfect break point for watching at home, and I am thankful WWE is doing that again for this year’s WM. All things told, this will go down as a historical achievement that WWE managed to put this together, and probably worth one day going back to watching to see how far we have come from those early dark days of the pandemic before we knew what the next eventful year had in store for everyone.

Past Wrestling Blogs Best of WCW Clash of Champions Best of WCW Monday Nitro Volume 2 Best of WCW Monday Nitro Volume 3 Biggest Knuckleheads Bobby The Brain Heenan Daniel Bryan: Just Say Yes Yes Yes DDP: Positively Living Dusty Rhodes WWE Network Specials ECW Unreleased: Vol 1 ECW Unreleased: Vol 2 ECW Unreleased: Vol 3 Eric Bishoff: Wrestlings Most Controversial Figure Fight Owens Fight: The Kevin Owens Story For All Mankind Getting Rowdy: The Unreleased Matches of Roddy Piper Goldberg: The Ultimate Collection Hulk Hogans Unreleased Collectors Series Impact Wresting Presents: Best of Hulk Hogan Its Good to Be the King: The Jerry Lawler Story The Kliq Rules Ladies and Gentlemen My Name is Paul Heyman Legends of Mid South Wrestling Macho Man: The Randy Savage Story Memphis Heat NXT: From Secret to Sensation NXT Greatest Matches Vol 1 OMG Vol 2: Top 50 Incidents in WCW History OMG Vol 3: Top 50 Incidents in ECW History Owen: Hart of Gold Randy Savage Unreleased: The Unseen Matches of the Macho Man RoH Supercard of Honor 2010-Present ScoobyDoo Wrestlemania Mystery Scott Hall: Living on a Razors Edge Shawn Michaels: My Journey Shawn Michaels: The Showstopper Unreleased Sting: Into the Light Straight Outta Dudley-ville: Legacy of the Dudley Boyz Straight to the Top: Money in the Bank Anthology Superstar Collection: Zach Ryder Then Now Forever – The Evolution of WWEs Womens Division TLC 2017 TNA Lockdown 2005-2016 Top 50 Superstars of All Time Tough Enough: Million Dollar Season True Giants Ultimate Fan Pack: Roman Reigns Ultimate Warrior: Always Believe War Games: WCWs Most Notorious Matches Warrior Week on WWE Network Wrestlemania III: Championship Edition Wrestlemania 28-Present The Wrestler (2008) Wrestling Road Diaries Too Wrestling Road Diaries Three: Funny Equals Money Wrestlings Greatest Factions WWE Network Original Specials First Half 2015 WWE Network Original Specials Second Half 2015 WWE Network Original Specials First Half 2016 WWE Network Original Specials Second Half 2016 WWE Network Original Specials First Half 2017

#Wrestling #Wrestlemania #WWE #john cena #drew mcintyre #Brock Lesnar #daniel bryan #rob gronkowski #goldberg #braun strowman #drew gulak #cesaro #becky lynch #shayna baszler

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