#i fucking dashed to check if it was there
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I Want To. | Wellness Check
logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.
[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third
portion; 4.7k+
possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)
we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.
Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.
Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.
But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.
...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?
He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.
He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.
It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”
“You do the Wordle?”
“Oh, fuck you—”
“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”
“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”
“…I like Connections.”
“I fuckin' hate Connections.”
“Alright, damn!”
The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.
“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”
He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.
When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”
He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”
“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”
He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.
‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’
You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.
‘When's the shift?’
‘6:30 to 12:30’
Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?
‘yeah i can reach’
‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’
You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—
“You make your own bread.”
“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.
“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”
“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.
“Fuck is this?”
“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”
“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”
“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...
“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”
He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”
"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."
"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"
"...I think it's fine."
“Fine?”
“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”
“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.
“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”
“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”
“Courtesy of me.”
“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”
“You’re very good, Carmen.”
“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”
It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.
You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.
“Itinerary for today?”
“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”
“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.
He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”
“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”
“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.
“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”
You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.
“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”
It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.
You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!
Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.
Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!
And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!
...
God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.
This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—
“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”
You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.
You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—
“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.
“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!
“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”
You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.
While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.
You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”
He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”
You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”
“Right to the point with you.”
“I hate suspense.” You shrug.
“You liked Mikey.”
What the fuck?
You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”
“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”
“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.
“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”
“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”
He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”
“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”
You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”
“You know ‘em?”
You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”
“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”
Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.
“I dunno, Uncle J…”
Oh.
28 unread texts from Syd.
3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.
9 missed calls from Syd.
Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…
You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”
He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”
“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”
“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”
“I like to think ahead.”
“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.
“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”
He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”
“I remember what I'm told.”
His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”
“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”
“We’re acquainted.”
“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”
He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”
“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.
He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”
At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.
You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.
“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”
You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.
“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”
“What?!”
“That’s what fucking code blue means!”
“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”
“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.
“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?
“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”
You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.
“…Did—Can you hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Have you called an ambulance?”
There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”
Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”
“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.
“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”
“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”
“That’s what they all do.”
“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”
“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”
“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”
You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.
“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.
You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?
“Alright— Relax—”
“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”
“Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”
“Everyone shut the fuck up!”
You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.
“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”
Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”
You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”
“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.
“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”
“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”
A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.
“It looks tight.”
There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.
“It is.”
He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”
“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”
He nods. He takes a second but he nods.
You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.
You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”
“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”
You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.
“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”
“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”
“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”
When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”
There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”
You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”
She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.
You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.
...
“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”
“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”
“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.
“She’s gonna hate me.”
“Who?”
“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.
“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”
“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”
“Not help—fu—ll.”
“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”
“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”
You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”
She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.
“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”
She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”
You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.
You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.
You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”
You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”
You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”
“I can’t— Move.”
“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”
She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.
“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.
You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”
“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.
You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.
“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”
She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”
“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”
“Condescending as fuck?”
“Yes, exactly, can you?”
“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.
You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”
“Yeah?”
“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”
“Why do I—”
“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”
He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”
You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”
Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”
“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”
They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”
“Yes, Chef!”
You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.
He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”
“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”
He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.
But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”
He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.
“Yes, Chef.”
I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.
I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.
And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!
Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3
#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy x reader#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#carmy the bear#the bear fx
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finally playing the super mario rpg remake (got it for christmas but i’ve been busy until now). as someone who completely avoided any spoilers of changes and such i am SO glad they kept peach’s sex toy in. now THAT’S how you stick to the classics
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all thoughts, head full
(psst you should check out this de!aged Donnie au by @snailsnaps 👉👈)
#*scuttling through the dash* no one can stop me im outta control#it's hard being a teen genius with a child's physical limitations#sleep? more like the vibe check from god for your hubris#fucking around and finding out#he eepy#good luck little man- i mean big man 😃#it's a good thing he's a fictional construct or he'd kick my ass for these tags 😌✌️#im not sorry#alphastage rise#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#explodingstar art#my art#rottmnt fic rec#de aged donnie#turtle tots#kinda#rise donnie#rottmnt donatello#tmnt#donatello#rise of the tmnt#work doodles on my phone
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[WIP] is this considered Cooking
#art cabinet#dungeon meshi#chilshi#IM SORRY THIS IS TRASH LOL. i just checked my dash and went#“Ahhhh fuck..... i havent posted enough chilshi these days......”#So have these crumbs
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still chasing the high i felt that night i first saw her
#i almost fell asleep. was just checking my tumblr activity and noticed my dash notifications were absolutely fucking exploding#checked it out and felt the light of god (cheerleader gerard)#not exaggerating that is a core memory for me that made me so so so undescribably happy and in awe and i was struck dumb#i was literally shaking. it was pure euphoria#i think that was the first pic of them that i saw. either that or it was the second one#mcr#my chemical romance#my chem#cheerleader gerard#gerard way#mcr nashville#mikey way#frank iero#ray toro#bandom
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yearly reminder for ppl to use their brains for five seconds and not be grossly transmisogynistic about eridan this month👍
#have already seen people being weird! fucking stop and check yourself#will be blocking anybody who puts that shit on my dash#and no i dont mean anybody who draws eridan in that outfit bcs some of you are capable of being reapectful and kind#and genuinely think that transfem eridan is cool#but i mean ppl who are incapable of being not horrible abt the idea of a character being transfem or even fucking cis & gnc for five seconds#eridan ampora#march eridan#🍔
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adhd comix
#man i dont even have the energy to be mad. im just tired#like. dont u love it when your parents exhibit symptoms of ADHD and your sibling is diagnosed with a learning disability#and instead of thinking oh shit what if the other one has smth too. they subject you to The Horrors#i cant bring myself to hate my parents. but im tired of feeling obligated to defend them when the thing they think is working#isnt actually working and ive just found other ways to cope to avoid any sort of conflict. like lying and stealing. lol#if someone took me aside and said 'hey so your brain doesnt make as much dopamine as usual and its not a bad thing it just means you#need external stimulation and reward system to function and youre not actually secretly fucked up or lazy' as a kid#im pretty sure i wouldnt be here rn with half the problems i already have. unfortunately getting diagnosed late means u dont have a teacher#to back you up at a parent teacher conference that forces your parents to take this shit seriously instead of ignoring it hoping itll#go away on its own. but hey what do i know i have squirrel ipad baby disease. what do i know about my own symptoms#AND. AND i think im allowd to be mad bc ive been doing my own research on this for years before and after diagnosis#theyve been putting me thru the WORST parenting techniques on earth. which they could have corrected at anytime but they were#comfortable thinking they were doing it right and didnt bother to check if they were or werent fucking up their kid in the long run#and refusing to acknowledge it. i just!! they just decided one day hey lets make babies!! and just looked at books on how to make#a human being survive as long as possible!!! what the fuck!!!!#im sorry for putting this on ppls dashes but i am. so tired. of bottling this up. and im not looking for sympathy or anything i just need#to scream and clench my fists to SOMEONE about it because theyre not gonna take this well up the ass. sigh#yapping#vent
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premier league + the top song on the uk charts every year from 1993 to 2022
#this is the most tedious edit i've ever fucking done christ. please be sure to click through and check it out#i didn't do 1992 and 2023 because it started in 1992 and we're still in 2023. so.#also don't @ me if these are wrong i'm not british and this is what uk dash charts dot co dot uk said. that link is to a playlist btw#manchester united#arsenal#arsenal fc#chelsea#chelsea fc#blackburn rovers#leicester city#manchester city#man city#liverpool#liverpool fc#my edit#honey edit#long post#football edit
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i swear to god everyone and their goddamn mother on that island are literal feds WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG
#i check my dash after being gone like#an hour most#not even#AND THE POL LORE I SEE ???#what in the actual fuck#qsmp
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So I saw a fanart you reblogged from haunts-n-dice and I just … my brain won’t let this go I’m sorry I’m not trying to be rude I just have to ask.
Do you watch Dimension 20: Neverafter or did you think a fanart of Ylfa from D20 was Double Life Pearl Fanart?
…………..anon listen eventually mcyt fanart often playing around with and not matching the skins exactly and often looking like other things was going to bite me but I thought it would be my preexisting “I like naruto” not everyone else getting into dimension 20 around me while I wasn’t paying attention oh no,
#answered#I AM SO SORRY IF IT HELPS THE ART FUCKING SLAPS ANYWAY#I FEEL REALLY BAD NOW I NORMALLY CHECK IF IM UNCERTAIN#SO THAT I DONT… POTENTIALLY EMBARASS MYSELF……. OR OFFEND ARTIST#THE ART IS REALLY GOOD I PROMISE#wails my dash is normally like 90% mcyt so normally I’m safe I’m a FOOL#leaving the reblog there for now anyway though because as mentioned the art still slaps
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Thinking about current continuity Vanessa and just getting pissed off again
Like one, LET HER REST oh my god dc you ruin her FUCKING life like an asshole only to bring her back as a villain after she finally got out oh my god-
But also like its just so bad. This is a whole other woman with her name like why are we doing this. Like first you kill her mom (JULIA NOOO) and erase her YEARS of history growing up around diana (the thing that actually made her villain turn [if you can call it that w the level of manipulation involved] interesting and fucking heartbreaking) for some shitty "oh I saved you we were friends" run of the mill whatever. Then to use that and say Nessie had a crush on her OWN SISTER (Diana, so like informally adopted, but still 😡) now????
And then they took away her curls and made her a redhead but not even the realistic kind. DC SHE DOESNT LOOK LIKE THAT
It just makes me so mad. Freaking guys. They could have used another name like oh my god. She's not even the first silver swan why the fuck would they do that if they're not going to explore her history w diana (which she no longer has!!!!) or how intensely fucked up everything got for her. What is even the fucking point of this then other to drag a main character of the ww supporting cast through the mud again for genuinely no reason. They could have easily had her be Valerie Beaudry (sorry Val) instead or just MADE UP ANOTHER NAME because it's obvious that no one actually cared about her as a character they just wanted the wondy villain back so like !!!!!!!!!! Why even bother
#her entire treatment just makes me so angry#like in general it makes me mad and sad and a million other emotions#but the fucking robinson version just makes me enraged. beyond pissed off. because theres no fucking reason for it its bullshit and its the#one in current continuity right now. so i get to see tom king ww panels put on my dash that have this stupid fake vanessa and its so#infuriating. like thats NOT her!!!!!!! oh my freaking god people#her hair is BROWN and CURLY and shes dianas BABY SISTER who she lived with for YEARS like she was a MAJOR supporting ww character for the#longest time. like shes got about 100 appearances (just checked) preboot this is not a minor character#so freaking frustrating#blah#ALSO. FUCKING ALSO. THE FACT THAT THE WHOLE CURRENT VANESSA TURNED EVIL BC SHE REALIZED SHE WASNT SPECIAL TO DIANA BS. FUCK YOU THERE LIKE#OH MY GODDDDD “isnt special to diana” im going to fucking kill you. what do you mean she doesnt care about her specially. thats her FUCKING#BABY SISTER. not to sound like vanessa herself a la silver swan but those clowns at dc would never say that shit about cassie oh my god#not special my FUCKING ass. nessie and her mom were literally the first people invited to themyscira in post coie continuity#like yes diana trevor and steve trevor and even baby julia kapetelis washing ashore but like the kapetelises (and you could even say just#nessie bc again her mom had been there before) were the FIRST ones invited there like you cannot say diana didnt care about them more than#the average joe dc i fucking despise you.#this girl has been through so much why is dc incapable of throwing her a bone ever. nessie i am so sorry they did that to you sweetie.#gonna tag it bc her tag deserves the traffic#vanessa kapatelis#just makes me so mad#doing all that to the normal teen girl character in a wonder woman comic is so fucked actually like dc comics i should not have to explain#that to you. what message do you think you are sending here be serious
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d&d stats here
#☿ || Dash.#long /#/ im so confused as to why this thing thinks cro's evil but aight lmfao#/ kae could never be a pally he's like 2ft tall and hates religion what even#/ vayn being a druid checks all the way the fuck out for reasons that remind me i need to reply to caemth#/ sorti being an evil wizard? 100#/ i really expected these to be different lmao#/ cro got that nat20 int#/ kae with his nat20 dex is accurate actually. until he's in his 30s and arthritis starts to develop-#/ but his intelligence being so low hurts me physically#/ hilarious that cro's a halfling when the woman is literally 6'1"
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#river dipping#theodore doe#echthroi#ts4#was it necessary to share these pics too? no#but i've been wanting to get some mileage out of this jerma clip i saved the other day#if tumblr wasn't a site run by cowards i'd have already used this clip under one of the extras i took for that mattodore dirty talk ask#that i answered weeks ago wherein mattodore are fucking full on but alas.......... </3#anyway let me check my activity feed and then i will once again be playing lemon eyes from matthias's playlist#and heading back to the mines (google docs) to toil away..... wish me luck friends and lovers bc i was agonizing last night#i might come back later tho and play catch up w/ the dash despite knowing how that will inevitably spiral into me being on here for like#five hours straight like it ALWAYS does whenever i say i'm gonna catch up..... fjfhkgkjgd#i rlly have to avoid tumblr all together when i'm trying to do things otherwise i get roped in and can't climb back out what can i say
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☕
The live action Scooby-Doo movies?
I did not see this ask until RIGHT now (first time on desktop since crab day, second time since Nov 5 2020 [which was DOUBLY experience since I got my phone taken the same day]) so I'm going to assume this ask got eaten on mobile because tumblr, HOWEVER you poked a bear with this ask anon (as I'm sure you knew when asking) SO without further ado: my Scooby Doo live action opinions
So when you say 'live action Scooby-Doo movies' I'm assuming you're talking about the James Gunn films, starting with Scooby-Doo (2002) followed by Scooby-Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed, just due to like, generally popularity and also the fact that I have actually seen those films. However shoot another ask if you wanted me to include Curse of the Lake Monster in this (because I will if anyone cares and turn this into a live-action scooby dissertation, i'd just need to like. watch the movie first) But anyways where I'm going with this is that this post is about the Gunn movies aka the ones with SMG, Freddie Prinze Jr., Linda Cardellini, and ofc our #1 man, Matthew Lilliard.
Okay so my take on these movies is... complicated. I wouldn't say it's as complicated as my feelings towards SDMI, because I watched the live actions way less as a kid and generally care less about them, but still no matter how much shit I throw at these two movies there are parts that I generally like (even love) that stops me from totally condemning them wholesale. Like the fact that these movies are FUNNY! There's so many moments from this duology that are just beyond iconic "like, that's one of my favorite names!" the whole thing with Scooby in the dress at the airport, ET. CETERA (like I can go on!)
The Gunn movies are genuinely SO fun and I can 100% see and understand how they've stood so well in the public view as a representation of Scooby. HOWEVER, this is where you start to see my problems with them. For the general American, (because that is the audience I'm familiar with) ESPECIALLY millennials and younger, who happen to make up the majority of both people on this site AND people I talk about Scooby with in real life, these movies, and the elements they introduced as "quintessential scooby tropes" are the base of their understanding of the Scooby franchise, along with likely some miscellaneous WAY episodes and maybe SDMI.
Which is where I get pissed off. In the pushing of the narrative of "breaking away" from the Scooby norm, Gunn basically invents (aka totally makes up) an idea of what classic era Scooby was like, cementing an idea of classic Scooby into the public mind that is totally disingenuous and just straight up false. For example, in attempting to portray Daphne as having taken strides to be seen more seriously in solving mysteries and defending herself, it pushes the narrative that in the classic era she WASN'T taken seriously, and only existed as a damsel-in-distress prop of a character, which is just not true??? Like yes, Daphne is clumsy, that's a part of her character, and her friends (because, fun fact, the gang ARE friends) joke about it sometimes because that's what friends DO. Framing that in some kind of sexist "that's all she does" lens is just total bull, especially as gang members fall into secret passageways/get lost etc. in WAY ALL THE DAMN TIME because that's how the plot functions! Like are we calling Velma ditzy for losing her glasses every other episode? Of course not, and Fred falls into passageways all the time, not to MENTION Shaggy and Scooby and all they get up to. Also one last thing on the topic of Daphne, like this idea of her mystery solving skills not being respected by the gang is just so supremely bullshit it amazes me sometimes, especially when she was the LEADER (or leader adjacent) through pretty much all of her appearances in the 1980s [Not that James Gunn could look at '80s era Scooby without spitting on it, but I digress]
AND THIS IS JUST DAPHNE! Like the perceptions pushed towards Fred (and Velma, but mostly Fred) through these movies are just as bad! Like okay, with Fred---In these movies Fred is just an asshole. I hate Gunn Movies!Fred. I mean yeah he can be funny but it's almost always so mean! Almost nothing makes me madder than a mean Fred by the way. If he's putting other gang members down (even halfway, like with his whole "dorky chicks like you turn me on too" line, which... ew) then to me something has gone very, very, VERY, wrong in your basic understanding of Frederick Herman Jones as a character. Like he's the cheerleader! He puts himself in between his friends and danger! He loves nets, and traps, and Elvis impressions, and wrestling, and the trapeze, and cars, and most of all he LOVES sharing the things he loves with his friends! (Sometimes to a bit of an extreme. No one wants to hear about your net facts, Fred) And the live action movies just don't understand that at all. And I know there's maybe something to say I suppose in that some of those aspects of his characterization hadn't been "established yet" by the time "Scooby-Doo" came out in 2002. But it's there if you look. For Fred Jones, being the leader means being the caretaker, (he's the Mom friend what can I say) and any version where he's cruel and arrogant and just DOESN'T CARE about his friends in the way he's shown to in the Gunn movies is just so far from Fred to me it's not even funny. And what makes it even worse for me is that this (or at least something similar) is the idea of Fred that has really spread to the popular culture. Just the "leader", the jock that makes the rules, the one that [insert X adaptation here] finally gave a personality and made interesting (something that has been said more times than I can count for pretty much every gang member, save Shaggy and Scooby).
And I haven't even touched on Velma, and how they gave her a bit of a early 2000s smart superiority girl complex against Daphne, plus the whole makeover thing and etc. etc. The Gunn Movies are pretty much what would happen if you took someone who hadn't seen Scooby since they were 7 years old (and honestly had a pretty negative outlook against it then) and tried to "fix" it, only his memory was so bad he just made up problems (and threw in a good helping of early 2000s style sexism with it) convincing pretty much the entirety of the popular culture that said problems exist and that Gunn was absolutely brilliant for fixing them (and then bringing up said "problems" whenever anyone wants to talk about Scooby) and this entire rant has been without even fucking MENTIONING what is probably the reason you, anonymous tumblr user sent this ask in the first place, to I, Swishy "Scrappy Doo Redemption Arc" Broke-on-books (dot tumblr dot com), which is his HIGHLY SUCESSFUL and utterly sadistic character assassination of my number one man, Scrappy Doo.
And I am going to try my damnedest here not to get totally into my highly passionate opinions over what James Gunn did to Scrappy in the first of his Scooby movies and how thoroughly it has pissed me the fuck off because I have been writing this post for over an hour now and if we start to really get into my feelings on this topic it will certainly be a couple of hours more but like. That Fucking Bitch. I give James Gunn personally a solid eighty-five percent of the blame for making my life as a Scrappy Doo fan UTTERLY unbearable with this stupid fucking movie alone, and just his Scrappy crimes would honestly be enough for me to say that I hate this movie, not even considering the numerous Scooby crimes I've been talking about here for the past million paragraphs, but the part about this movie that makes me the MOST mad the most pissed off is that it's actually a good fucking movie. James Gunn wrote two hilarious and entertaining movies that have become beloved in the popular culture for their successes in that arena, while at the same time pissing all over the core themes and messages of the franchise of which it was based, that of friendship.
TLDR; The Live Action Scooby Doo movies (written by James Gunn) are highly entertaining and fun pieces of media to watch, and are widely loved by the general public and looked at with fondness and nostalgia because of that. However, as a hardcore Scooby Doo fan (writing that phrase sounds so ridiculous but oh well) the existence of these movies and their impact on the popular culture can be extremely frustrating (despite any personal nostalgia said fan may have) due to their spreading of a misinformed picture of what "typical Scooby Doo" looks like. This picture is especially frustrating due to the fabrication or exaggeration of problems present in classic Scooby (such as sexism in regards to the girls), as well as giving more ammunition to other problems in Scooby fandom (such as oversexualization, and sexualization in general, which no one wants to see in regards to their children's cartoons, like HONESTLY.) Discussions of sexism and sexualization in Scooby (both of which ARE present and are issues, although not at their worst in WAY) can often lead to an overlooking of the issues that are very present and clear in WAY and have continued since then with far too little resistance (I'm 100% talking about the racism here) HOWEVER that topic deserves at least a dozen posts of its own that I am no way informed or qualified enough to even begin to think about writing. The Gunn Movies are frustrating to many longtime Scooby fans because of these reasons, but for me, and fellow Scrappy Doo fans there is also the added aspect of the demonization of Scrappy Doo in the live action movies and the affects that has had on the popular culture as well, making it uniquely inhospitable to like or enjoy the character of Scrappy. End post.
#that last sentence is such a weird tone jump btw but its because the topic flowed one way and i had to jump it back to a summary to actually#finish this monster of a post#SO anon i hope you're happy with this and this makes my opinion make some more sense. and you or anyone else is more than welcome to ask me#questions about anything i said here or my opinion on any and everything scooby related (and not) so if theres a specific aspect of this yo#would like expanded on i can definitely 100% do that for you or anyone who cares#also there are many complexities towards my feelings on these movies that i didnt get to hit on despite the monstrous size of this rant (il#check word count later but im not gonna fuck with it now because im terrified of deleting this post by accident) one of which is my lasting#fondness towards all of the actors in this movie. YES including freddie prinze jr. i may have major issues with his fred but hes also playe#characters i really really like. for example hes the va in this tv show i LOVE and havent watched in like 10 months despite the fact im on#the last season because freddie's character dies in like 7 episodes and i am NOT AT ALL emotionally prepared for that on any level because#that is my fictional father goddamnit!!!!!#also every buffy the vampire slayer gifset that crosses my dash gets me closer and closer to watching it because oh my god daphne!!!!! that#sarah michelle gellar thats daphne oh my god!!!! also i went and saw guardians of the galaxy 3 with my friend (despite not having seen a#marvel movie in 2+ years AND holding a grudge over james gunn's scooby doo crimes)[the things you do for {platonic} love amirite?]#and the title sequence SAID linda cardellini was in it and i got SO excited i was looking everywhere for her it was like wheres waldo in th#discount movie theatre FOR REAL and i just could NOT for the life of me find her (turns out she was VAing the ferret) so in a way linda mad#me cry with that role. whatever. istg i get so off topic i forget what i was even talking about but ANYWAYS <<<1 of my fave english words b#dubs (my favorite spanish word is el amanacer btw. it means sunrise. also burbujas because its bubbles and saying it sounds like bubbles#popping) BUT. AS I WAS SAYING. SEND ME ASKS IF YOU WANT SCOOBY DOO OPINIONS. DEAR GOD I GET SCATTERBRAINED SOMETIMES.#scooby doo#answered#anonymous#blah
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HOW HARD CAN IT BE?!
How hard can it be to not rejoice at human beings’ deaths and celebrate it like a fucking firework of tastelessness all over this blue hellsite?
And why am I following people who do this shit? Like, I consider myself halfway reasonable in my mutual choices, but EVERY DAMN TIME something like this happens, I have to go “Okay no, bye”, because even with my diagnosed severely limited empathy, I just - I can’t abide CELEBRATING OTHER HUMAN BEINGS’ DEATHS, and apparently lots of other people find it very cool indeed.
Sometimes I’m wondering if everyone has gone insane. Just. Dudes. GET A FUCKING GRIP!
#cato respondet#to their fucking dash#and the fucking nonsense on it#like#pls#i'm just#disappointed#idk#i GET IT#these people are stupid#and reckless#and most likely immoral#beause no way you get that rich#without it#still#THEY ARE HUMAN BEINGS#fuck this#and yes i have thought i hope somebody would die#but then i checked myself and went#actually no#that's not who i want to be#and that's the thing#YOU CAN DO BETTER#fucking do better#i'm not saint#but man!!!#oceangate
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i'm just giggling now, what a delightfully silly ask lmao
#it occurs to me after the fact that the question might have been aboutwhat the character would like eating more but like#fuck it we ball#salem set me up to yes and him and i know at least one mutual who's gonna be really fucking confused when they check their dash now#which i consider an absolute win
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