#i need the number of people in my office to drop by at least one very loud asshat blocking the coffee station
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Scherzo (a Barón Tovar Takes a Wife one-shot)
3.1K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader
Scherzo - a short composition – sometimes a movement from a larger work such as a symphony or a sonata
Summary: Your husband takes care of you when you get hurt during your travels.
Warnings: None! All fluff, though reader gets cheeky with her husband cause I mean, it's Pero? Protective!Pero, Soft Husband!Pero (I NEED HIM). A little bit of violence is described where reader gets physically hurt, nothing graphic.
A/N: This was written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge; please see #jettsflora&faunachallenge for all the other amazing works by some wonderful authors (I didn't do much with the meanings of the flowers, was just going for ✨vibes✨ - hope it's okay!). I tend to always miss my babies after I complete their series, and can't help but write little one-shots for them to see what they're up to. This is our Regency couple from Barón Tovar Takes a Wife, but you don't need to read it (although it would be cool if you did - I'm kind of proud of this one 😭) - just know our happy Barón and Baronesa are doing what they love the most, which is travelling on the high seas together.
Beautiful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰
Truth be told, Naples is not one of Pero’s favourite places to visit in Italy; the Barón much preferred the rolling vineyards of Tuscany or the cultural diversity of Milan. At least it will be a short stay, too short to even arrange for lodging in the city; it was much easier for everyone on the ship to remain staying in their onboard quarters while he oversaw some Royal fleet business with the Italians. It would be just three short weeks before they're set to raise the sails again, this time charting a course up the western Italian coast to the Civitavecchia Port of Rome. He realizes the last time the two of you were in Rome had been when you said your final goodbyes in his youth, parting ways and not meeting again for over ten years; Pero looks forward to strolling the cobblestone streets together once more, this time with you as his bride.
In the meantime, he would try to expedite the matter before him – if the Italian dignitary sitting across from him would acquiesce, perhaps he can still save enough of the day to take you to do some sightseeing before nightfall. Just as the stout man’s mustache twitches at something he’s read on the document Pero gave him, someone bursts into the office, violently banging open the door.
Recognizing one of his trusted footmen, Pero exclaims, “Miguel, could this wait? Signor Romano and I are in the middle of something.”
“No!” cries Miguel, alarmingly, “My apologies, Barón! It is the Baronesa...”
Pero reacts with blinding speed, his chair knocked to the ground from the force with which he stands, “What has happened?!”
“There was a commotion in the square, my lord. Your wife was hur-”
Pero is already out the door, running as fast as he can towards the city square where he knows you and your lady's maid, Lucia, had planned to do some exploring while he was away at meetings. Wind rushing past his ears, he can hear behind him the faint thundering footsteps of Miguel the footman trying to keep up with his master.
When he gets to the square, Pero is stunned to find it in a mild state of chaos – several shops have been vandalized and an overwhelming number people seem to be in a state of mild panic, crying. He scans the crowd and when he finally spots you, he nearly falls to his knees. You’re sitting on the ground next to Lucia who is crying loudly, comforting her the best you can; and while Lucia is clearly emotionally distraught, she appears to be physically unharmed - the same cannot be said for you. Your dress is torn in several places and covered in blood; whose blood Pero does not know, but he realizes, stomach dropping, that some of it at least must be yours when he sees the long bleeding cut down your left forearm. Your beautiful face has at least one messy scrape across your cheek that he can see even at this distance and your lip looks like it’s starting to discolour and swell.
You spot Pero when he is a but few steps away and instantly feel a wave of relief wash over you at the sight of your strong, handsome husband (though you do hate to see the look of panic and terror on his face). Dropping down to your side, Pero immediately cups your face in his warm, bear paw hands, careful not to disturb any of your injuries, “Dulce! How are you?”
You don’t want to tell Pero that your heart is still beating fast from how scared you had felt during the stampede, or how the cuts on your arm and face sting and that your sides and back have started to ache. You know that doing so will only make him feel worse - but you’ve never lied to your husband in all the years you’ve known him so you simply say, truthfully, “Better now that you’re here, Pero.” Melting into the soft tender kiss he presses to your mouth, you try not wince when his soft lips meet your bruised ones but fail miserably. Trying not to shatter in front of you when he hears your pained whimper, Pero wills himself to pull back with a silent reminder to handle you with more care; as he starts to check over your injuries, he asks delicately, “What happened, mi amor?”
One of the sailors who had joined the footmen in accompanying you and Lucia starts to explain before he’s silenced by a glowering look from your husband; Baronesa Tovar is not a woman who needs others to speak for her.
You give the poor sailor a reassuring smile before drawing Pero’s attention back to you and recount for him what happened in the square earlier. Noticing that the Barón's hands have been cold in the mornings as of late, you had headed out today with a mission to purchase your husband some gloves made with the fine leather craftsmanship that the Italians are known for. While admiring the buttery softness of a pair of large leather gloves handed to you by a lovely stall merchant, a fight had broken out across the square between a mob of over twenty large and angry Italian men. The fighting horde continued their bout while moving across the square, barreling into families and unsuspecting people just trying to go about their day. Caught unawares, the pedestrians scattered and ran panicked in an effort to get out the way of the oncoming melee. The fleeing crowd had ran in your direction and you and Lucia could not get out of the way fast enough – pushed down to the ground, in your attempt to shield Lucia as the two of you tried to crawl to the side of the street and away from the mob, your dress had been torn by the flurry of feet as runners stampeded, your body kicked more than once. At one point, someone had produced a pistol and shot at several buildings; and while that effectively ended the fight, several windows had shattered and some of the errant glass had fallen and cut your arm.
Pero feels absolutely sick at the picture his mind conjures of you being physically pushed and kicked, imagining how scared you must have been; he wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and comfort you, but without knowing the extent of your injuries, he settles for pressing his forehead to yours and whispering that everything will be okay now. You believe him.
With some difficulty, Pero helps you stand and brings you back to the ship; both of you agreeing that when the doctor is called, it should be to the safety and comfort of your own quarters. Though ever gentle with you, the fearsome scowl on Pero’s face clears a path from the square down to the docks – the deep furrow of his brow accentuating the faded scar over his left eye, as if to challenge anyone who would get between his wife and her safe haven. Calling out for medical supplies and hot water as soon as he’s onboard, Pero leads you to your chambers and sits you on your shared bed before falling to his knees in front of you. Slumping, tension in his strong frame finally dissolving, Pero lays his head in your lap and lets a few tears fall at the relief of finally getting you back home, safe. You stroke your husband’s soft curls lovingly, understanding all of him and letting his devotion wash over you - it brings you a calm that you haven’t felt for several hours now.
In silence, you let Pero tend to your cuts and scrapes, eyes never leaving his handsome face as you watch him concentrate on being gentle with his big, sometimes clumsy hands. Pero washes your face and hands, wiping away all evidence of the time you spent on the hard stone streets of the square, then takes care to thoroughly clean your injuries. When you hiss at the sting from the salve he applies to the cut on your arm, Pero murmurs, “Be good for me, Baronesa,” and distracts you momentarily from the pain with that sweet smile of his that he knows makes you melt.
Finally comes the point that Pero has been dreading; he undresses you carefully to tend to the injuries on your body, hoping none will be too serious. Once he has you stripped to the barest of your undergarments, he takes in the bruising that’s starting to show on your legs, hips and back and thinks he might cry again; his beautiful wife, so brave and strong – he cannot believe you sustained these injuries and still allowed him to move you about as he has without complaint. As if reading his mind, you run a finger through your husband’s scruff that you love so much and try to lighten his mood; nodding towards your discarded dress on the floor, you joke, “I do not think I will be wearing that dress again.”
Half serious, Pero replies, “I think I will bring it to the Polizia tomorrow, when I demand answers for how they allowed what happened in the square to transpire.”
“Pero.”
“Or we throw it over the side of the ship,” he shrugs, a little bit a light returning back to his eyes when he sees your good humour is unscathed; permitting himself to hold you close, Pero breathes his first calm breath since Miguel interrupted his meeting, inhaling your soft perfume. Seeing Pero in a better mood instantly lifts your spirits, and while in the safety of his loving arms, you give him a playful little wiggle and press your barely clad body to his.
“Dulce,” he warns, voice dipping low at your giggles. To show him it’s just a little bit of teasing, you straighten up immediately and allow Pero to run the warm cloth over your body and finish cleaning you up before dressing in your most modest nightgown without any more shenanigans.
The doctor who is called leaves a short while later, declaring that both you and Lucia will be fine and that a few weeks of lightened activity and rest should heal your injuries without issue. It’s not something you’re looking forward to, but you agree with Pero that for the remainder of your time in Naples, it would be better if you recovered from the safety of the ship.
For the first few days, you enjoy the calm and quiet of your vessel, many of the sailors and staff taking the opportunity to enjoy some leave while docked. But as the days go on, with Pero away for most of the day on business, you find yourself getting restless. You read your books and write your letters. You play your piano and even entreat Lucia and whomever remains onboard to play cards with you. From the ship’s deck you can still see much of the city, and even though you have no particular wish to return on this trip (your experience in the square still too fresh), it unfairly beckons to you like a siren. You’re bored. And despite loving your ship, you’re starting to feel cooped up.
Pero does his best each day to finish up his work as quickly as possible so he can return to you, enjoying the warmth of your company and checking for himself that you’re recovering properly. The Barón brings home delicious treats and pretty trinkets for his wife everyday, leaving no doubt that you’re ever on his mind even when apart. And while you love your husband dearly for his thoughtfulness, you cannot help, while enjoying his gifts from within the boundaries of a ship that once represented freedom to you, feeling a bit envious at being unable to go out and procure them for yourself. Pero can tell that you’re feeling a bit out of sorts, not your usual cheerful self; he so hates to see the wings of his pretty dove clipped – it saddens him just as much to see you try to hide your melancholy from him. And although he cannot agree to lift the current restrictions on your movements, he deeply wishes for a way to make your so-called confinement as pleasant as possible.
The morning that marks the start of your last week in Naples, you wake to an absolute ruckus coming from the ship deck; for a moment you feel a stab of fear, unused to such loud noises and voices without having been given some forewarning. You must still be feeling some effects of your recent scare, you think; upon listening a bit more carefully, you relax to the realization that the voices are primarily instructive and even calm. But it’s still much too early for this level of activity from the deck – the footsteps and voices you hear must be from at least double the amount of people you would normally expect to be up at this time of day. Also unusual is that you’ve woken up to an empty bed; every day following the incident in the square, you’ve woken up to your husband curled around you, arms and legs thrown over your body like protective amour. You don’t think you particularly like today’s change, but it makes sense – you can’t imagine whatever is going on outside to be taking place without your Pero’s permission. Not especially looking forward to another day of doing the same things again within the same confines of the ship, you lay in bed for a while longer, at least until the noises start to die down and your curiosity gets the better of you.
The sight that greets you as you open the door to the deck nearly knocks you off your feet. Somehow, it’s not a wooden ship’s deck that you’re now gazing upon, but a colourful and enchantingly idyllic scene, something that could have been painted by a great master of the arts. For a moment, you have to pinch yourself, is this a dream?
You step through the doorway from the ship’s hold into an ethereal garden – blooming flowers have overtaken every inch of the ship’s deck: thick braided garlands of roses, violets, and peonies wrap wondrously around every one of the ship’s railings, big bright pots of lilacs, azaleas and irises line the sides of the ship and surround a makeshift sitting area where some garden furniture you’ve never seen before has been arranged. Even the mast has been decorated to look like a spring maypole, intertwining vines of clematis and jasmine crisscross all the way down from the crow’s nest so tightly you can barely see any of the dark wood that normally centres your great vessel. Every bow is positively dripping with wisterias, reminding you for a moment of your beloved Bridgerton House. You walk slowly through the dreamlike scene, weaving between the lush plants and the fresh, bold flowers. Brushing your hand over the railing as you meander, your fingertips flutter at the soft feel of the blooming petals and your eyes brighten at the rainbow hues that paint every perimeter inch of the ship. Your nose breathes in the sweet and intoxicating floral scent that now dances lightly in the air. You close your eyes and inhale. Your eyes open again with a soft exhale. Repeat.
You’re turning around slowly, trying to take in the entirety of your magical surroundings when your eyes land on your beaming husband, standing like a handsome faerie king holding an exquisite bouquet of your favourite peonies in his hand, waiting for his pretty queen to take in all his hard work. Despite the residual pain you still feel a bit in your sides, you launch yourself into Pero’s arms, throwing your own around his neck and passionately press your lips to his. Mouth opening, you let Pero lick in and explore, before pulling yourself up onto your toes and suck on his tongue eagerly. Pero pulls you in tightly and when he feels your tongue stroke behind his teeth, lets loose a deep vibrating hum of want that reverberates through you, straight to your core. With a quick nibble to your bottom lip and a few chasing flutter kisses, Pero reluctantly pulls away; he’s sure there are curious eyes all over the ship deck, even if they are currently concealed by the splendid greenery that’s overtaken the space.
When he steps back look at you, the expression on your face almost gives Pero enough reason to throw modesty and decorum out the window, grab at your enticing curves and throw you down amidst the lush fauna he’s brought onto the ship to have his way with you. Almost. Your eyes shine bright and twinkle, there’s a fresh glow to your cheeks, and your smile is the widest that he’s seen in weeks: you’re alive again.
“Pero,” you cry in bliss, “what is all this?”
The Barón gently cradles your head in his hand and reverently strokes the soft hair of his beloved Baronesa, “Mi amor, I could tell that staying confined to the ship has not been agreeing with you. If you cannot go out to explore and play in the wide world, then I will do my best to bring the wide world to you. Now, instead of a cold, dreary ship deck, I hope you will enjoy the remainder of the week before we set sail in your own private garden.”
You could cry – what did you ever do to deserve the love and devotion of your perfect husband? He forever thinks of your comfort and the wellness of your heart – but he does so much more than just take care of you or do things that make you happy, he’s the reason for your joy, for your very being. You cannot stop murmuring, Thank you thank you thank you, into his chest as he holds you close, not only to him but for him.
The flowers last a week which is precisely how long you need them to last. During those final days before your fleet sets sail, you find yourself soothed every time you enter or sit in your personal secret garden; second, by the tranquility and peacefulness of your botanical hideaway, and first, by the knowledge that you have the love of the kindest, sweetest man on earth.
Leaning now along the once again bare wood railing, with the salty sea wind blowing through your hair, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. The patchy facial hair of your husband tickles your cheek as he presses a sweet kiss to your temple and whispers in your ear, “Happy to be on our way, Dulce?”
Turning in his arms, you snuggle into his safe hold; tucking yourself under his chin, you sigh into Pero’s neck, “Just happy, mi amor.”
#jettsflora&faunachallenge#pero tovar#regency!pero tovar#pero tovar fic#pero tovar fanfiction#bridgerton au#pero tovar series#pero tovar x you#pero tovar x f!reader#pero tovar x reader#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#no y/n
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I've been incredibly out of sorts this week...
I dislike this, I'm having to police my emotions to such a high degree 😡
And it's not just irritability, either. My emotions have been all over the place, hyper and happy and manic, next ready to snap at the slightest sound, then goofy again, before being very depressed. And on and on and on. 'Round and 'round we go, where we stop, heaven help us all.
#and there's so much noise to set me off in the office these days#I've got 3 drivers on modified duties in my office#one who's helping the Kid with pick up bookings#her customer service voice is like the receptionist from Office Space#so that's just not going to drove me up the wall#another who i have nothing for him to do#so he sits at the coffee station grunting every 5 seconds#at least when he's not arguing with people on his phone because they can't understand what he's saying in his nasally mumbling voice#dude! i know how to spell your name and even i can't get that from what saying#use the godsdamned nato phonetic alphabet saying the same easily misunderstood letter even when nicely enunciated over and over again while#getting progressively more pissed off and less intelligible doesn't work#and the third spends most of his time with his head is hands#then there's the faint sounds of F's podcasts distracting me#and the Kid bouncing his foot against the chair leg#then somebody will start scanning and somebody will use the xerox to scan a small forest of documents#and i am sitting there getting more and more overwhelmed with no way out#can't put in my earphones I'd just be pulling them out every 5 seconds to answer a phone or gate or something else#i need the number of people in my office to drop by at least one very loud asshat blocking the coffee station#he's the worst#and if i have to listen him repeatedly fail to voice dial a contact again while the phone is in his fucking hand 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬
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EPISODE 1: PILOT
WARNINGS: 18+, heavy drug usage (cocaine, weed, alcohol, etc), oral sex (R, E, D, A, ETC), tribbing, overdoses (reader), mentions of overdoses, angst, EVERYONE WILL BE IN COLLEGE AS EUPHORIA IS SET IN HIGHSCHOOL!, mentions of self harm, Jules will be transgender (same in the show, except sex won't be with her), shoplifting, mentions of death, NATE and his family will most likely be left out of this completely and set with new characters that are less toxic, dealer!ellie (sometimes), drug deals, swearing, less abusive relationships but still toxic, mentions of rehab, rehab (detox), death, degradation, toxic sex, rough sex, strap usage, strap sucking, mentioning of 9/11, lmk if I missed anything please!
a/n: this will be VERY similar to Euphoria, you will be RUE (Due to it being "your" story I will be writing it with 'I' as Rue talks). I just need to figure out where abby, dina, jesse, etc will fit into the story. I do know abby will be CAT very likely all the characters will be the exact same (besides from Nate and his parents) I've struggled with a few of the problems in Euphoria and I've written my own fic about MY addictions but I figured I'd do Euphoria too hehe, I will be removing the SA parts of the story because that's just something I don't want to have on my page. Please let me know if you want to be on the taglist whilst I actually have inspo to write :) 3.8K WORDS, spell checked and shit idk man it's like 4 hours past my bed time and 1am
I WILL BE MAKING A EUPHRIA PLAYLIST FOR EACH CHAPTER!
Taglist: @snowy-vee , @vqxen @pedropascalsbbg
PRESENT DAY
"I was once happy, content, sloshing around in my own private primordial pool." I am standing in front of hundreds of people who are here listening to my story—to say the very least, I was nervous. I always have been a fucking addict, and now I'm telling my story of how I recovered from this fucking disease that ruined my fucking life.
"Then one day, for reasons beyond my control, I was repeatedly crushed." I blink my eyes, looking at the floor, struggling to find the right words: "over and over by the cruel cervix of my mother, Grace."
"I put up a good fight, but I lost, for the first time, and definitely not my last... I was born three days after 9/11."
Memories flood back to when I could hear the TV going on the day I was born.
"I can hear you; I can hear you; the rest of the world hears you; and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon." The unknown man says on the TV that hearing the words "USA, USA!" being chanted over and over again made me cry as a baby. Those chants will forever haunt me.
"My mom and dad spent two days in the hospital, holding me under the soft glow of the television, watching the towers fall over and over again, until the feelings of grief gave way to numbness." I shift uncomfortably in the silence of the audience, glancing at my good friends Jesse and Ellie, who indicate for me to keep talking. A soft chuckle comes from my lips as I continue on with the story.
"And then," I take a deep breath, "without warning, we moved to a friendly neighborhood in the suburbs, to where a middle-class child, me to be exact, was looking up at the ceiling, counting those fucking numbers like I could fucking see them. Over and over again. 'thirteen... fourteen... fifteen... sixteen."
"My mother looked up at that ceiling like I was fucking crazy; the words she said echo through my dumb brain still: 'What are you looking at, y/n?'" "I kept counting, trying my hardest to ignore her. She said to me, 'y/n, look at me."
I chuckle. "I bet you all know where this is going. I kept counting, but from the start," and my smile dropped immediately.
"I remember breaking down and crying when my mother tried to snap me out of it. I wanted... I had nothing but to cry, so that's what I did. I sat in a doctor's office a few weeks later with my mother crying next to me as the doctor said I could be suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention deficit disorder, general anxiety disorder, and possible bipolar disorder." I put my hand up close to the mic to cup it. "But I was a little too young to tell," I said in a joking tone, cracking a laugh from the crowd. "Y'all get me; y'all fucking get me."
"With this being said, I was put on medication to treat half of the disorders I had, and to be honest, I don't remember much between the ages of 8 and 12. Just that the world moves fast and my brain moves so fucking slowly."
"I would sit my fucking ass in class every day and try my hardest to listen to what that fucking teacher was trying to teach, but sometimes I would focus on my breathing a little too hard. I'd die. That teacher held a bag to my mouth to calm my breathing, though it never really helped. I remember trying to outrun my anxiety every day, looking in the mirror and trying to push my stomach in so I wouldn't look "fat."
"I would constantly get messages from people telling me they wanted to kill me, drug me, make fun of me, and bully me. My mother knew something was up and constantly asked me what was wrong, but I always gave the same response: 'I'm just fucking exhausted."
AGE 19 (college years)
"You said the doctor was in our network. How could he suddenly be out of network?" I hear my mother say as I walk out of my room into the kitchen, "I can't afford it" Grace says.
"did you see the beauty queen who got acid thrown in her face?" My sister says as I begin to lean on the dinning room table. "Mm, what? No" I say, turning my attention to her and out of my trance. "it's pretty fucked up." She says holding up her phone. "Hey, Mom, you got any tampons?" I turned my head to face her as she looked at the documents in her hand, I knew full well I wasn't going to be getting tampons but she didn't need to know that shit.
"in my bathroom, under the sink." She replies back, I swiftly make my way to the bathroom.
I enter her bathroom and cough as I open her medicine cabinet to take a few of her Alprazolam (XANAX) pills.
I would do this countless times, and surprisingly at some point, you make a choice about who you are and what you want in life.
I pretend to flush the toilet and I look at the picture in my mother's bathroom- it had my dad and my Mom on it on their wedding day.
I look at myself in the mirror washing my hands and putting on sunglasses to hide my pupils that are almost as big as my actual eye itself- I get out of the bathroom to go back into the kitchen
"alright, Jayda, let's roll." I say to my sister as she looks at me and frowns, probably these fucking sunglasses.
"y/n, did you eat breakfast?" Grace says, moving the phone away from her mouth. "I had coffee!" I yell out, opening the front door and making my way out.
Jayda and I begin to walk down the sidewalk, she turns her attention onto me and asks what's with the sunglasses.
"what sunglasses?" I say and chuckle, Jayda laughs with me.
We both make our way to the bus and wait for it to arrive, once it arrives we get on the bus and make our way to the back of the bus.
I guess... I showed up one day, without a map or a compass... Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice. And I know it all may seem sad, but guess what? I didn't build this system nor did I fuck it up.
I was sitting at a party, with a galaxy book to my knees and a line of cocaine, holding the perfectly rolled 5 dollar bill that had been rolled by some rando.
I snort the line of cocaine and immediately felt the pain in my nose, moving my hand up to my nose and applying pressure to where it is painful, making my breathing hitch, then speeding up my breathing in order to get rid of the pain.
My pupils immediately shot big, looking around—everything felt good, my mind at ease and nothing to worry about. I sit up with the most unreal experience, an out-of-body feeling as I struggle to get up.
"y/n, you good?" My friend Ellie attempts to hold my shoulders to steady me as I wobble slightly, I giggle and smile at her, escaping her grasp. "I'm good!"
I walk past people- everything is in slow motion, my body feels slow, my mind feels slow, and suddenly I no longer feel as high- I find another unknown substance and waste no time snorting it, sitting down on the couch.
I sat back up from the couch I was sitting at, getting offered yet another line of cocaine. I snort that cocaine as well, that leaves it hard for me to breathe, every time I take a breathe out. It feels like I'm breathing out all the oxygen I have.
And then it happens. That moment when your breath starts to slow, and every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have. And everything stops: your heart, your lungs, then finally your brain. Then everything you feel, and wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks. And then suddenly... You give it air again, give it life again, and that's what leaves you needing more.
I smile at the figure I see besides me, her face is blurred but she's speaking to me, I feel scared. "I want to call an ambulance" I say in my mind, "but I don't wanna ruin everyone's time"
"dude get her fucking legs" I hear muffled voices, slowly waking up. It was Ellie and Jesse dragging my body to Ellie's bed, after I had passed out on the couch at that random frat party-
I stand in a church with my hands behind my back, looking up at the ceiling waiting to graduate from rehab. Slowly making my way up the steps, I look at the lady and give her a smile and a nod before exiting the building.
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Echoing in my mind over and over again as I make my way to Ellie's car.
"Hey!" I see Ellie running up to me. I drop my bags as she pulls me into a tight hug. I smiled at her shoulder. She squeals, letting go of me and looking at my face, pulling a hair strand behind my ear.
"I've missed you," she admits. "I've missed you too."
"What about we go back to mine and we can watch a movie?" Ellie suggests that, honestly, I wanted to get home and get out to my fucking dealer. I never had intentions of staying clean, but she didn't need to know.
"Uh yeah, sure," I say, quickly breaking myself out of my own stance. She helps me with my bag, and she puts it in Joel's old, beat-up truck, and I get into the front seat. "Everyone's missed you, dude, Abby, Dina, Jesse, and Maddie. Fucking everyone, dude."
I chuckle.
-
I cuddle up with Ellie in her dad's garage as we watch Jurassic Park. I'm on top of her, listening to her breathing—she's relaxed; she's always around me.
I find myself nuzzling into her neck. She moves her head to the side, so you have better access to her neck. I softly kiss her neck; she's always so soft.
Her eyes flutter shut as I start to suck on her neck, her hands finding their way to my ass, slowly rocking me back and forth to grind on her. Ellie let out a choked moan as she felt my clothed cunt rub against her clit.
"Y/N, fuck," she moans. I smile against her neck and make my way to Ellie's lips.
I kiss her slowly, but Ellie starts to become desperate, whining into my mouth as I refuse to give her what she wants. I move my hand underneath her hoodie to find her tits; of course she's not wearing a fucking bra or shirt under her jumper. It's Ellie.
"Wait," I say, pulling down her pants and boxers in one go. I look at her swollen cunt, slowly moving my head downward to lick up her slit, making my way to her clit.
She bucks her hips up into my tongue, I moan into her cunt, and she tangles her hand in my hair, slightly tugging upwards, making me groan loudly.
"S-sh-it," her voice is choked. "Fuck, just like that," she moans, rolling her eyes back, her toes curling in her socks. "Hmm? Feel good, baby?" I say to her, slowly lifting my head up, abandoning her swollen cunt.
"Fucking don't," she threatened, and I chuckled. I push my middle finger into her soaking pussy as I attach back to her clit; her breathing gets faster, and I feel her tighten around my fingers.
"F-FUCK!" She moans loudly, and I feel her pussy conract on my finger as she cums, her fingers tugging at my hair. "A bit loud, don't you think?" I tease after letting her ride out her orgasm, and I move up to kiss her sweaty forehead. "Shut up"
"got another in you?" I smirk, taking off my pants, t-shirt, and bra. Ellie takes off her jumper, leaving us both naked. I allow Ellie to get up and let her go on top of me.
Ellie aligns her clit up with mine and moans quickly, filling the room each time Ellie moves her hips. I start to dig your nails into Ellie's back, making her groan in pain.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ellie chants from the overstimulation. "C'mon, baby, I know—fuck, I know you can do it." I praise her as I feel a knot in my stomach, threatening to come undone.
Ellie moves her shoulder closer to my face. I take this as an opportunity to bite down on her shoulder, which makes her wince in pain.
"I'm going to fucking cum!" Ellie moans out. Hearing Ellie say this triggers my own orgasm, and we both cum together.
-
I sit up in bed watching Ellie sleep, and I take out my phone to look at the time.
4AM
"Fuck it," I think before opening Ellie's window slowly, climbing out her window, and making my way to my dealer's house.
-
"There's a new girl in town I think you're going to be friends with." I stand in front of my dealer, who's sitting down in his chair. "who?" I question.
"shit... I don't know, man. She came in yesterday lookin' all Sailor Moon and sh*t. I'm thinking to myself, "You look like somebody you would get along with."
"Ah, real nice, dude. Really nice, where's ash?"
"I thought you went to rehab?"
"Doesn't that mean I stayed sober?" I smiled, walking towards Ash's room with a smile. I opened his door to see him eating cereal. He puts down his bowl and looks at me.
"Shit, I thought your ass was dead."
"I thought you had Asperger's till I realized you're just a prick." I insult him. "This is a fickle industry. Y'all come and go." He chuckles.
I ask for what I want, and he hands it to me. "Sure, you don't want to try anything new?"
"Like, what?" I asked, pulling the hair out of my face.
"2-C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT." "I have no idea what the fuck you just said, Ash."
"Doesn't matter, dude, this sh*t. Is fucking lit?" He holds up a bag with two unknown pills. "It's a fast-acting psychedelic. I have some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual and shit, but still a sense of distortion... I don't know what's been blowing up in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck on it."
"okay, yeah." I say, putting all the baggies in my pocket, "That'll be 120."
"Fez said he'd spot me."
"Fezco, don't spot anybody."
"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him." I say, pointing the middle finger at him, opening his door, and leaving.
"Do you think my areolas look weird?" Dina says to Abby, "What the fuck, no?"
"Just the edges."
"Dina, they're fine," Abby says, taking a puff of the weed Cassie gives her.
"Fine, like, they're weird, kind of weird, or fine, like, nobody but me would ever notice what I would notice?"
"Fine, like, shut the fuck up, Dina," Cassie says, sitting up, grabbing her vape, and taking a puff. Dina scoffs, pulling up her t-shirt to cover her boobs.
"Hey ladies!" Jesse walks in. "Hey baby," Dina squeals, running to Jesse and hugging him. Abby cringes.
"Straight people, ew," she thinks to herself, looking at her phone. "Yo, you got out of rehab."
"Didn't she die?" Dina asks, and Abby shrugs.
"Yeah, I swear she died. I don't know, is Ellie coming to the party?" Jesse questions, to which Dina nods.
-
I get off my bike at home, slightly drugged up from the drugs I took earlier.
I walk into the house, softly shutting the door.
"Where were you?" My mother says, sitting at the table, Why the fuck is she up at 6 a.m.? You thought to yourself: "I went to eat," I lie. "What the fuck do you mean, you went to eat?"
"what?"
"what?" She mocks, "Don't walk away from me." She sits up from her seat, walking towards me as I walk towards my room. "You know what, y/n? I don't trust you."
"I don't know what you want me to say." It's true; I didn't know why she wanted me to say it. "I want you to tell me where you were," she says, walking quickly as I walk to my room.
"I just said I went to fucking eat!" I yell at her, "Don't you talk to me like that!" Grace says as I slam the door on her face. "Don't be slamming my doors around here."
"It was a fucking accident!" I yell out, holding my body in front of the door. "I don't care. You're not leaving this house until you take a drug test."
"I just peed!" I yell out, "Slam another door."
"Shit," I say, making my way to my bed, not knowing what to do. Every option I could do is unsafe as fuck.
Niacin, maybe. I don't know fuck, I think to myself, putting out my phone to look at the side effects.
Google
Side effects: skin flushing, extreme dizziness, vomiting, rapid heartbeat, and sometimes death.
Fuck, I can't.
"No drug site recommends doing this" I whisper to myself.
The other option is to get a non drug-addicted friend to do it for me.
About 20 minutes later, I show up at Dina's door, knocking.
"y/n!" Dina says, opening the door, smiling and hugging me, "I thought you died."
I laugh. "Can you do me a favor?" Uhm, I'm serious, bro."
"Sure, what is it, y/n?"
"Can you, uh, piss in this cup for me?" I whisper to her . "You're fucking with me, right?" She responds back, and I laugh and shrug.
Dina agrees to do it, and I enter her house to see Jesse and Abby.
"Sup Jesse," I say, fist bumping Jesse, then Abby.
"We thought you fucking died, bro. How was rehab?" Jesse says it with a genuine tone. "Yeah, it was good." I turn to Abby and ask, "How's football going?"
"Yeah, good. Thanks, uh, are you coming to that party tonight?" Abby asks, "Uhm, yeah, maybe."
"y/n" Dina grabs your attention, you move away from Jesse and Abby, and she swiftly hands you the bottle. "Here's that eyeliner."
"thank you"
-
I quietly climb through my window, grabbing my baggie of crushed cocaine, tipping some out onto my shelf, grabbing my 5 dollar note, rolling it up, and snorting a line.
"Argh," I groan, feeling it hit my nose. The same pain I've always experienced with snorting was still there—just muffled out. By this point, my nose was completely fucked, and I could hear the sound of the drugs eating away at my nose.
"Mom! I have to pee."
-
"I wish we could do this in a way that wasn't a complete invasion of my privacy." I say, cup in hand, struggling not to smile at her due to the drugs I had taken earlier on.
"Well, you lost your right to privacy after your overdose," your mom says, staring at you in the eyes.
"That was an accident." I smartly talk back, "Don't be flippy, y/n."
"Could you, at least?" Your mom turns around and says, "Thank you."
I sit down, and before "peeing" in the cup, I swiftly change it with Dina's urine as she talks. I wasn't listening to whatever the fuck she was saying... I was high as fuck, and I didn't care.
I gave her the urine sample, and she put the drug test in the container, and all of them came out negative. "I'm sorry for slamming the door earlier."
"it's okay. I forgive you. Come here." My mom says, pulling me in for a hug.
I guess... Like I said before, you get to choose who you want to be and how you want to be- the way the drugs cancelled out all my emotions was what I was looking for, no person, no nothing could compare to that feeling. Besides from drugs.
"I'm gonna stay at Dina's tonight" i say to which she agrees.
It's now 7PM, I don't know how the day went by so fast- but it did and it fucking sucked. I get a text from Ellie.
Ellie: Yo, noticed you left this morning you okay?
Me: yeah, I'm good bro. You alg?
Ellie: yep! Wanna come over tonight?
Dont have to if you wanna go to the party instead
Me: I'll come over around like 11?
I find myself making my way to the party that Jesse, Dina, and Abby are going to.
Jesse and Dina have fucked off somewhere else, probably making out or fucking, and you find yourself next to Abby.
"How was rehab, y/n?" She says, breaking the tension, although I can barely hear her over the music, "Yeah, it was good!" I yell over the music.
I stand up, looking for the bathroom in an attempt to snort more, but people were already in the bathroom. "Shit," I think to myself, not paying attention to where I'm walking, accidentally bumping into this lady.
"fuck!" I yell. Looking at her, she looks like the girl Faz mentioned. "Hey, sorry." I retrace my steps.
"You're good; I'm, uh, I'm Jules," she says, and I smile, holding out my hand to shake hers. She accepts and shakes my hand.
She's got one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen; her smile is so bright it could light up an entire dark room, filled with nothing but sadness.
"I'm y/n" I introduce myself, to which we exchange numbers, and I make my way to Ellie's place, feeling overwhelmed from the party.
I knock on her door for Joel to answer; my pupils are dilated, and obviously I've taken some sort of drug.
"y/n... Hey, Ellie's in her room." I smile stupidly. These fucking drugs, man, I can't stop smiling . I swiftly walk past Joel and see Ellie. I smile at her, and she smiles back. "Dude, are you high?" She scoffs, "I thought... I thought you quit."
"I'm not high, Ellie, mania." I giggle; she obviously doesn't want to assume, so she wants to give me the benefit of the doubt.
"Are you coming back to college this month?" She questions. "Yeah, probably." The truth was, I didn't want to. But I knew I probably had to.
I shall leave it at this due to how many words, etc. and idk if people will like this 😭😭
#ellie williams#the last of us#ellie imagine#ellie tlou#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x you#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie williams x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie x you#ellie x dina#tlou 2#tlou2#abby tlou#joel tlou#tlou#the last of us 2#abby x fem!reader#abby x you#abby x reader#abby x y/n#dina x ellie#dina x y/n#dina x you#dina x reader#dina x fem reader#ellie williams tlou#tlou ellie
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Part 2 now here
Okay to expand on this I just think: Steve who’s been in a couple of tv shows and is having a moment, famous offscreen for his hair and his charm and onscreen for his ability to find chemistry with anyone (and also, again, his hair).
And Eddie who is a complete unknown; he’s been in some stage productions and had the tiniest bit parts on TV but nobody’s ever, like, recognized him on the street.
Eddie auditions for a new HBO show. When his agent tells him that Steve Harrington is already attached Eddie is like cool, I’ll never get this part but the audition will be good practice so why not. They’re never gonna cast him. He’s sure he’s playing it too weird, and he hasn’t cut his hair (but he will when a part needs him to) but then he gets a callback. Twice.
And then he’s getting called in to do a chemistry test with some of the other actors. The show is like a modern Freaks and Geeks but with a slow burn murder mystery, and Eddie’s actually dead in the main timeline but about half the show is told in flashbacks so it’s a big part. When he meets Steve he doesn’t know what he’s expecting from the paparazzi darling but the guy is super genuine, makes Eddie feel way more comfortable than he has so far. They do their read together and Eddie is just thinking to himself like… damn, this guy really is good, because that felt crazy. He’s acted opposite some insanely talented people but it’s never been that easy. That must just be what it’s like working with Steve.
And now it’s dangerous because he really wants the part. He wants to stop bartending to make rent. He wants to be on this show, because the pages he’s seen are good, and he thinks he could really bring something to it. And because he wants to work with Steve. And even the rest of the cast, too, but—
The day Eddie gets the part he gets a text from a number he doesn't know. Hey man, really looking forward to working with you. And then, a few minutes later, It's Steve btw. He's smiling down at his phone so much that his agent, whose office he's in, is like "What, did you just score another life-changing opportunity I don't know about?" And Eddie is like "Nope, just the one, uh—it's just my uncle saying congrats. Anyway—"
They don't make him cut his hair. They don't tell him to stop playing it so weird. Everything goes so well that it feels fucking hard to believe, in fact, like he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There's one group of them playing seniors in high school, the main foursome of which is Eddie, Steve, and their two girl costars, Nancy and Robin. And then there's a younger group playing freshmen whose story intersects with theirs.
His and Steve's characters are set up as opposites, almost rivals, and at least at first, you're presumably supposed to wonder if it's Steve's rich, popular guy who's killed Eddie's character. Nobody in the cast knows the truth yet; the scripts get revealed to them as they're shooting them and they've been told the murderer won't even be revealed in the first season (so here's hoping they get renewed, because Eddie would really like to know who killed him—and he'd also like to keep making HBO money).
Their scenes are some of Eddie's favorites to film (although he also has a soft spot for the kids—especially Dustin who plays a hilarious and awesome nerd who does D&D with Eddie's DM). Eddie hopes his and Steve's stuff is working on whatever level they ultimately need it to work on—sometimes they do get notes that tell them to pull back or dig into something, to emphasize something else, so he has to trust that they're doing the right things.
They often film out of order so when they eventually film the scene where Eddie and Steve's characters have their first run-in at school, it's far from the first time they've shot together. They get all up in each other's faces in the scene, and they've run the lines, done a table read, but acting it out at full intensity is. A lot. Steve's character is mad because he thinks Eddie's character is trying to steal his girlfriend (really she was just buying drugs from him). The way Steve plays it is all simmering intensity, the threat of violence just under the surface, and this is where Eddie doesn't know if he's reading something into it that isn't there. Because for him, there's also another kind of tension between them. And he doesn't know if it's his real life bleeding into the character; if it's just how Steve can't help being with everyone; or if it's a legitimate part of the scripts that they're supposed to be picking up on and exploring. He doesn't even know if anybody else sees what he does. But they do their takes; nobody tells him he's doing something wrong. And after the director calls cut the first time, Steve winks at him. Just to cut the tension, Eddie thinks, maybe to make him smile, which it does. It's fun watching Steve work, watching him slip into and out of character. He's really easy to work with.
Sometimes they get together to run lines or talk motivation or whatever. “It's crazy, you know," Eddie tells Steve in his trailer one night. Steve's is bigger so all of them usually hang out here. They've been making each other laugh, shooting the shit about increasingly funny backstories for their characters, and Eddie feels high with it. "I mean, you know this is my first real show. It's like—" he gestures between them, trying to encompass everything that happens on-camera and all the fun of working on that off-camera. "I didn't know it would be like this."
"Oh—yeah, man," Steve says and laughs a little self-deprecatingly, running a hand through his hair. "But, I mean, for me, I've done a couple and, with our stuff—it’s never been like this with anyone else, either.”
It's going to be so hard, Eddie thinks, looking back at him, to not read into that more than he should.
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#actors au#if you have a good idea for their names on the show please speak right up i'm not sure what i'm feeling#would love to connect it to st somehow
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chapter six | didn’t i do it for you?
masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣
pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!richie jerimovich x fem!reader | platonic!natalie berzatto x fem!reader | platonic!neil fak x fem!reader
summary: carmy knows exactly what he wants regarding you, but past mistakes always come to rear their ugly heads
warning(s): angst | hurt slight comfort | slight fluff | semi-jealous carmy | mentions of substance abuse | mentions of overdose | mikey | mentions of suicide | implied miscarriage | language | self-destructive behavior | arguments | forced love confessions | carmy’s sad boi hours | actions having consequences | more barby lore | children | no use of y/n | afab reader |
wc: 10.9k
a/n: hi lovies, this chapter may be a bit heavier than previous ones so please take the warnings extra seriously. if you are triggered by any warning please do not read this chapter i’ll literally message you a summary of the chapter if you need it. i may have missed some warnings so if that’s the case i do apologize it was not intentional. lastly please remember YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA COSUMPTION….enjoy 🩵
“You know, I-I don’t think my family meant to ruin it or anything like that, you know.”
Carmy was trying to be better, to be more open. And it was easiest at these Al-Anon meetings, no one knew him, and no one had any expectations of him.
“I-I don’t think they did it on purpose,” his hand subconsciously raised to the chain securely tucked under his crew neck, rubbing the metal through the fabric.
“I don-it’s not fair to blame them for everything,” a sardonic huff of laughter escaped Carmy as he thought of the words he was going to say. “I uh…I had a friend once…a best friend.”
“She was the first thing in life that I felt belonged to me,” Carmy frowned, having trouble articulating what he wanted to say. “And not li- I didn’t own her or anything, but she was my friend because she chose to be, not because she knew me through Mikey.”
“And then I…I fucked that relationship up myself…uhh and as I sat there trying to think of what provided amusement or joy in my life…I just thought of my childhood spent with her…by my side.” He cleared his throat forcing himself to remember that he would probably never interact with any of these people outside of these meetings.
Carmy’s hand dropped from its place where his covered chain sat, now gripping the armchair. “She’s uh she’s back in my life now and I…I want those things with her again I…I want to fix things with her, be the person she believes I am.”
Sydney’s curiosity the other day gave Carmy a lot to think about. He was so accustomed to looking at the picture above his stove daily, that he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he invited Sydney over. Her curiosity was understandable, the interactions you and Carmy shared hadn’t been the warmest but that Polaroid would suggest otherwise.
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to be here.” Carmy sat straighter in his chair, if he could admit his wants albeit vaguely to a room of strangers, he could admit his feelings to you. “Thank you, guys. Thanks for letting me share.”
Then he saw you at the grocery store, comfortable in someone else’s arms. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he didn’t think he was. But reality slapped him in the face, so sure of himself that the two of you could pick up where you left off he didn’t stop to think that maybe you didn’t want that anymore.
And then like the idiot he was, he gave Claire your number. He wanted to believe it wasn’t on purpose, that he had memorized your number so well it was the first he thought of when asked.
Carmy left the meeting hoping Claire didn’t call the number he gave her, hoping that you would be open to rekindling whatever relationship was left between you two.
Your morning was off to a great start. Hayden surprised you with breakfast at the office and signed off on your article for The Bear as long as it didn’t get in the way of your work at The Tribune. The two of you even brainstormed the best way to go about telling the story.
Since your late-night grocery run with Hayden, the two of you had fallen back into the friendship you developed all those years ago. It felt good to be reconnected with him, and thankfully things weren’t awkward considering your past sexual history.
Neither of you admitted to it, but you both knew the opportunity to fall back into your old ways would soon present itself, you weren’t sure if it was an option you would take advantage of though. The two of you weren’t in college anymore and as pathetic as it sounded since your vulnerable conversation with Carmy the other day, your heart still held out hope that the two of you could build up the foundation for a romantic relationship.
Rounding the corner of Orleans Street you finally made it to your destination, happy to have taken in the fresh air mid-morning had to offer. You approached the door to the restaurant hoping someone would hear your knock and let you in.
You smiled as Sydney opened the door moving back to allow you in, you reached up to slide your headphones off as you greeted both her and Carmy.
“Good morning, is Nat in?” The text you received on the train ride over from the oldest Berzatto was pushed to the back of your mind until now.
The urgent ‘we need to talk,’ text had worried you at first, but you had rationalized that Nat could’ve been referring to anything.
“Uh yeah, she’s in the office.” You nodded at Syd giving her a small smile in thanks before turning to make your way to the back.
“Oh hey, do you like have a second or…” You stopped in your tracks turning back to face the two chefs looking between them curiously before nodding once more.
You smiled waiting for one of them to speak, “Uh yeah can we make this quick though I need to speak with Nat.” You did your best to sound nonchalant, the longer you stood out here the more your anxiety began to rise, mind racing with what Nat needed to speak with you about.
“Yeah yeah of course,” Sydney stepped away from the door moving near Carmy who had remained silent since your entrance. “We were thinking of sending Marcus to Copenhagen and I know you stayed there, not like in a weird way but because I read your articles you know.”
You nodded your head eyebrows raised as a signal for Sydney to continue. You did your best to ignore Carmy’s stare while Syd rambled on about their idea and how the trip would help to inspire Marcus.
“…So we were wondering if you had any suggestions?” Her raised eyebrows stared back at you.
“Sorry suggestions for what?” The confusion was easily readable on your face, Syd’s excitement at the prospect overwhelmed you.
You watched as the two chefs stared at you, Carmy’s signature blank stare and Syd’s slightly hurt reaction that you weren’t paying attention.
“Oh uh for accommodations…in Copenhagen.”
The question surprised you, eyes darting to Carmy before focusing back on Sydney. You knew Carmen spent time in Copenhagen, so the fact that they were asking you for suggestions seemed a bit redundant.
Albeit stunned by the questions you smiled moving towards where the two of them were sitting, memories of your month spent in Copenhagen playing in your mind like a movie. The trip was months before Mikey’s passing and now as you think about it, it felt like that was the last time you had fun, and lived life without the worry that so often filled you now.
A chuckle left your lips as you leaned against the counter looking from Syd to Carmy, “I uh I stayed with the chef I was profiling.” You bit your lip trying to contain the grin threatening to split your lips, “I still have his number I could call him if you want. He kind of owes me a favor anyway.”
Carmy’s arms fashioned themselves across his chest, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. There was so much he didn’t know about you including the fact that you had spent time in Europe with some mystery chef.
“Oh yeah? What uh-who was the chef you wrote about? Maybe I know him.” Carmy’s words surprised you, the look you exchanged with Sydney proved that he didn't come across as casual as he was trying to.
You raised from your position against the counter, “Chef Luca?” Your voice trailed off a bit before the smile you were trying to contain finally made its appearance, “He’s this amazing pastry chef, who’s so passionate about his craft it was like watching a master at work!”
Carmy watched as you gushed about his former colleague, annoyance clawing at his throat as he took notice of just how happy the memories made you.
“Luca even taught me how to make this crazy dessert he was still perfecting, I mean mine was nothing compared to his but it was honestly the most fun I’d had in so long.” You reminisced about your time spent with Luca, “Oh, and my peach cobbler? Yeah, he taught me the simple syr-.”
“No yeah, I’m familiar with him.” Both you and Sydney were pulled from your animated conversation; the tight smile on Carmy’s face alerted you of his irritation.
You nodded, feeling a little bad at your rambling, “Okay well I’ll just go see Nat now, let me know if you need me to make that call.” You drummed your hands against the counter before turning around to take your leave.
“Hey uh, Baby?” You turned your head before disappearing around the corner eyebrows raised as you looked at Carmy. “Do you think we could maybe talk later?” You watched as his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck.
Sydney watched the interaction play out between the two of you, a small smirk lining her lips as she watched how flustered Carmy got just by asking you a simple question.
Your lips tugged up into a small smile, “Sure thing Carm, I’ll come back when I’m done with Nat.”
Carmy was sure his heart was beating so loud Sydney could hear it, the nickname something he hadn’t heard spilled from your lips in so long. The small smile he briefly caught did wonders for his already lacking confidence, he was now sure more than ever that there was a chance to fix things with you.
You entered the office to see Natalie pouring over documents presumably to do with permits and money in regards to the restaurant. You took a step forward momentarily stopping at Nat’s voice.
“Close and lock the door behind you please,” The lack of eye contact was grating on your nerves, either Natalie was completely stressed about her role as project manager or you had yet again colossally fucked up.
You did as told not wanting to further irritate your very pregnant friend. The office was silent neither of you spoke up as Natalie finished looking over the latest paper she had picked up.
She looked exhausted and you felt horrible knowing you had potentially added more stress onto her already-loaded plate. Nat gave you a small smile though her eyes looked anything but happy.
“Cortez called me this morning,” Nat’s eyebrows raised as she pointedly stared at you. Your head fell back against the door a quiet ‘fuck’ mumbled into the air. “Said this was the third meeting you missed.”
Nat waited for you to return your attention to her, “I’m only going to ask you this once Baby, and I really need you to be honest with me.” Nat leaned forward in the chair, closing a bit of the space between you so you would hear her quiet voice, “Are you using again?”
You sighed leave it to Cortez to fucking snitch you out, you didn’t realize that being a snitch was a requirement if you were someone’s sponsor.
“Baby?” Your eyes connected with Nat’s the softness of her voice and the watery appearance in her eyes told you just how worried she was.
Your head shook back and forth rapidly as you raised your hand to massage your temples, “I’m not using Nat I promise. And I know that means jack shit coming from an addict but I promise I’m doing good.” You took a deep breath calming your budding agitation, you knew Nat was worried and it wasn’t her that you were annoyed at but yourself.
“I uh…I’ve been stuck on step eight since I joined this whole rebranding project, and I…I knew that Cortez would be persistent in me getting it done.” You grimaced at the fact that you had already missed three meetings, you hadn’t realized how far things had gotten, “It’s just things felt normal again and I guess I thought I could just pretend like everything was okay.”
Natalie nodded as she listened to your explanation, she hated it but there was always a part of her that would be apprehensive. She had seen the manipulation substance abuse breeds firsthand when she stayed with you in the hospital after your overdose, it hurt her to see you hurting. To sit back and watch as the withdrawal symptoms ate away at you as you would fiend for a fix that you took your pain out on her and Pete.
Nat quickly turned to where her purse was sitting pulling out a box the two of you were all too familiar with.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Your face scrunched up in anger, the emotion slowly residing as you watched Nat close her eyes and take a deep breath in. You felt like a complete asshole you knew Nat wasn’t doing this of her own volition and you had no one to blame but yourself for the predicament you were now in.
“Nat shit, I’m sorry you didn’t deserve that. But you really can’t expect me to take that here.” Your hand thrust out to the box that seemed to be taunting you.
“Baby you know the rules. I don’t like this as much anymore than you but when you just decide you don’t need to meet with your sponsor anymore, these are the measures we have to resort to.”
“Lead the way, Mom.” Natalie let out a small chuckle at your antics, thankful that you were being somewhat logical, “Wait is there a bag we can throw this away in, we can’t just leave the evidence in the bathroom.” The two of you turned to search through the office sure you would find a stray plastic bag lying somewhere.
You popped up, a plastic baggie securely in your grasp, “Does the toilet even work?” Nat shrugged, walking past you and making her way to the bathroom leaving you to follow behind.
“Aww yeah, party in the bathroom! Am I invited?” Nat stopped as Fak stood in front of the two of you hastily moving the bag behind her back doing her best to be inconspicuous.
“Sorry my love girls only, maybe next time,” Nat gave Fak a pat on the shoulder and her signature smile before maneuvering the two of you around him.
“Wait, is it that time of the month for us? Cause I think our cycles might be synced, I’ve been having the most insane cramps lately.” The words that left Fak’s mouth would never cease to surprise you.
“You know, I think you might be right Fak, my lower back has been killing me.” You indulged in Fak’s shenanigans, the man falling in line to walk with you as the two of you followed Natalie to the front.
Fak nodded along with you “No I’m like feeling it, should I invest in a heating pad?”
You snickered at Fak, “I usually just fill up a sock with rice and throw it in the microwave.” You shrugged like the conversation was a completely normal occurrence. “The first day is always the worst for me, my breasts get so tender.”
Fak raised his own hands to his chest cupping his pecs “Baby tell me about it, it’s just like one touch and I’m crying.” You could see Carmy’s confused look from your peripheral as your group finally made it to the bathroom.
“I could totally massage your breast Fak, but you would have to return the favor. It's only fair if you’re a part of the sisterhood.” You watched as Fak nodded his head rapidly, hands raising in the air and hovering in front of your breast.
“Wait, is this an actual thing?”
“Oh yeah me and Nat do it all the time, that’s actually why we’re going to the bathroom now.” Fak’s eyes darted to Nat before looking back at his hands inching closer to your breast.
“Wait no, I don’t want Carmy to be mad at me.” The two of you looked in Carmy’s direction, the man still watching just as confused as earlier.
You shrugged before turning back to Fak, “I can assure you Carmy would not give a single fuck if you touched my breast, Neil.”
The aforementioned man took in a gasp of breath before clearing his throat and slowly moving down the counter to get a better listen at what the hell the two of you were doing.
You, Nat, and Carmy waited to see what Fak’s next move would be, the smile raising to your face hard to keep under wraps, Fak was adorably easy to mess with.
Fak’s hands began to inch forward concentration clear as day on his face before a small shriek left his lips, “Baby I’m sorry, Carmy’s my best friend, I don’t think I can do this for you.”
You laughed at the disappointment in Fak’s voice, “Your loss babes, I know 16-year-old Fak would’ve killed for this moment.” Your hand raised to pat his cheek before you finally left his side and entered the bathroom as Nat held the door open for you.
“She was lying to you my love, we don’t massage each other's breasts.” With those last words, Nat shut the door on a disappointed Fak and a mildly annoyed Carmy.
Fak turned back to look at Carmy with an apology in his eyes, “I’m so sorry Carmy, teenage Fak was really fighting to come out right now but I know Baby’s your girl.”
Carmy frowned at Fak’s words, the irritation running through him at yours and Fak’s stupid antics. “She’s uh…she’s not my girl. Baby and I are just friends.”
Fak smiled widely in Carmy’s direction, “That’s great, you really should think about getting a girlfriend then, I just want you to be happy Carmy.” Fak began walking to the back to help move the appliances. Carmy let out a chuckle as he heard Fak mumble about missing his once-in-a-lifetime chance.
Carmy shook his head back and forth, having you back really was just like old times. He wouldn’t ever say anything out loud but Carmy was actually really glad he didn’t have to stand there and watch Fak fondle you.
“Pete said the two of you have a lunch date planned.” Your head shot up to Nat, the air had been a little stilted between the two of you since she had brandished the drug test.
A laugh bubbled out of you, “Doesn’t seem like the proper environment for a casual chat Nat.” You gestured to the dinghy bathroom you were in, emphasizing the urine sample sitting on the sink while the two of you awaited the results.
You watched the smile rise to Natalie’s lips, a somber look overcast on her face, “I’m not doing this because I want to Baby.” Nat’s voice took on a gravelly tone.
Natalie didn’t deserve this, she had already basically nursed you back to health once. And now here she and Pete were about to bring a life into this world, and here you were a grown adult still expecting everyone else to fix your problems. You knew Natalie didn’t need the stress and worry your life choices brought forth and if your overdose wasn’t a wake-up call enough, then Nat’s haggard appearance as you two stood in the bathroom sure was.
“I know and I apologize Nat. Really livin' up to my nickname aren’t I?” Nat chuckled listening to your apology. “There’s no excuse for my behavior. I know what’s expected of me I-”
Your words were cut off by the shrill ringing of your phone. The noise caused the two of you to jolt in the small bathroom. You quickly removed the device from your back pocket, it was a Chicago area code, but you already had everyone you knew here saved in your contacts.
“You gonna answer that?” Your eyes flashed to Nat, her eyebrows raised in question.
You took one last glance at the number trying to place it before clicking the power button and slipping it back into your pocket, “If it’s important they’ll leave a voicemail.”
“Anyway, I shouldn’t constantly depend on you to clean up my messes Nat, I don’t think I’ve been the best friend recently. And it should be you depending on me considering,” you waved your hand over her figure scared that if you spoke the word someone might hear. “I promise to do better Nat, I want to be around to help with the little gremlin.”
Nat raised her hand to wipe the few tears that were falling, making her way over to pull you into an embrace, “These damn hormones make me so emotional.”
You chuckled rubbing up and down Natalie’s back, “You’d be crying even if you weren’t compromised.”
The hug lasted up until the timer on Nat’s phone sounded, signaling the results were ready. The two of you pulled apart, with Nat sending you a reassuring smile.
It didn’t matter if you knew you hadn’t touched any substances since your hospitalization, you would always be nervous when it was time to read off the results. You waited with bated breath as Nat read over the testing stick, you would set up a meeting with Cortez as soon as you got the chance.
The sigh of relief Natalie let out stung you a bit, but you could understand her apprehension it wasn’t easy trusting a recovering addict.
“It’s negative Babes.” A sigh of relief left you.
A wide grin raising to your lips, “I told you so.” Nat rolled her eyes at the sing-song sound of your voice.
The two of you made quick work of cleaning up the bathroom, small talk about your future lunch with Pete floating around as you made sure all evidence was disposed of in the plastic bag.
Carmy watched as Sugar exited the bathroom the same drugstore bag from earlier in her hand. He sent a nod in her direction as she smiled at him before making her leave. Carmy was set to meet up with Syd in 30 minutes but he was hoping to speak with you before he took his leave, unsure if you would still be here later.
He returned his attention to the calendars with the timeline to open, checking off things that had already been taken care of and adding anything he wanted to double-check.
“You free to talk now, Carm?” He turned at the sound of your voice, a shy smile lining his cheeks as he took in the smile on your lips.
“Uh yeah, yeah if you’re free,” You nodded, coming to stand across from Carmy the old counter directly between you two.
Carmy’s eyes took in the sweater you were wearing, similar to the style in his but while his was a nice grey color, yours was a deep green. The familiarity of the crew neck finally dawned on him as he realized it was his crew neck you were wearing, the last time he saw it was the night he left you in his apartment all those months ago expecting to still see you there when he returned home.
It was silent as the two of you stared at each other, a giggle escaped your lips at the lost look on Carmy’s face. “What’d you wanna talk about Carmy?”
Carmy nodded trying to remove the memories from his mind, “I uh…I know I ruined our friendship and…and whatever was left of it.” He paused, eyes falling to the crew neck carefully wrapped around you, the memory of watching you get dressed after the shower you shared swimming around in his head, the extra pictures of the two of you tucked safely into his bedside drawer.
“Carm hey,” he watched as your knuckles knocked against the counter to bring him back to the present time.
“Yeah, I uh I just have a lot I think we should talk about Baby, and maybe the restaurant wasn’t the best place for it.” He reached up to scratch the back of his neck, nerves running haywire.
You nodded a serious look painted on your face, you were sure you knew what Carmen wanted to speak about but you also had secrets of your own you wanted to share with him.
“I…I want us to try and be friends again or at least be cordial with each other…if that’s not too much to ask.” Carmy huffs out a breath of laughter, eyes latching onto your figure in front of him.
He watches as you appear to be thinking, most likely retracing the path of your relationship through the years memories running through your head that he has absolutely no idea exists.
“Carmy, you’ve never not been my friend but a lot of your choices hurt m-.” Your phone rang again echoing off the walls in the front of the restaurant.
You gave Carmy a small smile before removing your phone, the number that’s calling you is the same one that called while you were in the bathroom with Nat earlier. You raise your finger to Carmy, gesturing that you need to take the call.
“Hello.” You wait as the other line stays quiet.
“Baby?”
You frown looking up at Carmy as he watches you hoping your call ends soon, “Uh I’m sorry who is this?”
“Oh, it’s me, uh…Claire. We lived down the street from each other as kids?” A gasp escaped your lips, surprised that she was calling you.
You move the phone from your mouth. Hand moving up to cover it as your eyes find Carmy’s “It’s Claire.” Your whisper takes a moment to register in his ears, too caught up in the bright smile on your face.
“Wow, it's so good to hear from you. Um, I hope I don’t sound rude but how exactly did you get my number?” You watched as Carmy ran a hand across his mouth, eyes wide your name slipped past his lips the dire need to get you off that call racing through him.
You held your finger up to him signaling to give you a moment, too wrapped up in miraculously connecting with an old friend.
“Oh um, this is going to sound weird. I uh…I ran into Carmy the other night at the grocery store and when I asked him for his number…this is the number he gave me.” You listened as Claire spoke, the smile quickly disappearing from your lips as your eyes found Carmy’s alarmed ones.
“Carmen gave you my number?” You watched the regret flash through his eyes.
“Mhm.”
“And claimed it was his?”
“Uh kinda yeah, it’s a bit weird but maybe he was just planning to call you or something.” A small laugh left your lips, if he hadn’t called you since he last saw you, you could bet he had no plans to ever call you.
“Yeah…fuckng bizarre.” You could feel the lump forming in your throat.
“Sorry if this is weird but do you think you could give me his number?” It felt like senior year all over again and you were the bridge between these two souls
An ironic smile rose to your lips as you stared directly at Carmy, the panic glaringly obvious in his eyes because he couldn’t hear Claire’s responses.
“Oh, Claire Bear I’m so sorry I haven’t spoken to Carmy in what’s it been?” You paused your glare on Carmy impenetrable.
“Five years, since high school graduation. I don’t even have his number.” The crack in your voice was evident to all who could hear, Carmy wished he could disappear at that moment.
“Oh no, is everything okay with you two?”
“You’re too sweet. You know how it is people change, they grow apart. I just think Carmy outgrew me.” It was becoming harder and harder to swallow your tears.
“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that Baby. But I heard you're back in Chicago, maybe we can catch up?”
“Claire I’d love that, hey before you go try Fak for Carmy’s number I’ve heard they’re extremely close now, have a great rest of your day!” You listened as Claire said her goodbyes quickly, hanging up and placing your phone back in its designated pocket.
It was silent as you raised your head to the ceiling, a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips as you felt the tears trace down your cheeks. You were getting fucking tired of crying.
“Baby hey, hey let me exp-,” Carmy’s pleas were cut short as both of your eyes shot to his now ringing phone on the counter. Neither of you needed to be a fucking genius to figure out who was ringing Carmy’s line.
“Answer quickly Carmen, your little girlfriend is calling.” You knew it was petty and you shouldn’t be upset with Claire for chasing after what she wanted, but for once you didn’t want to be the one fighting for scraps of Carmy’s affection.
You didn’t want to have to share.
His hand quickly shot out pressing the power button on the side silencing the ringing, taking the extra step and turning it face down as he watched you just stare at it.
“Baby I-,”
“Why are you the way you are?” You were tired of putting Carmy and his feelings ahead of yourself, tired of running yourself ragged to accommodate your feelings for a grown man who was too scared of the truth.
“I-” You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts. “I’m so hurt right now Carmen and I want to be angry, I want to be so fucking angry with you but I’m just hurt and exhausted, and I…I really don’t even want to waste my breath on you right now, but I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and I think I’m just done.” Carmy flinched at the sardonic laugh you let loose.
“It hurts Carmen…it hurts when the person you’ve been truly in love with for most of your life doesn’t even treat you like an option.” You ignored the sharp intake of breath that came from Carmen’s direction, surprised he even had the guts to listen to your rant.
The ringing in his ears along with your broken voice overwhelmed him.
“I have lived so much of my life for you and yeah I was stupid for that, but all I wanted was your happiness and all I wanted was happiness with you. I have given so much of myself to you Carmen I have lost pieces of u- of myself to you, Carmen.” The tears were raining down in full force.
It was one thing to cry when you were hurt but to cry out of anger and exhaustion would probably always be the worst feeling.
“All I wanted was for you to love me the way I loved you…the way I will continue loving you after today because the way I feel for you won’t just go away Carmen it will be stuck with me forever! What I lost to you will be stuck with me forever! And…and we spend this amazing weekend together and I accept that you can’t commit to me and I give you the benefit of the doubt because Mikey just died and you…fuck.” Your hand slammed against the counter top your thoughts all over the place.
“You take my number that you’ve had for a year and you give it to some girl that you had some stupid pathetic high school fucking crush on. I’m not even worth a fucking phone call to you Carmen! And I…I’m not even supposed to be here right now but you wouldn’t fucking know because your too much of a fucking coward to allow yourself to be loved to be happy!”
You could feel the oncoming migraine from how loud you were shouting, you did your best to ignore the gathering crowd, Nat and Richie at the forefront watching with worried glances, as Marcus Fak and the rest of the crew peaked through from the back.
A shuddering breath floated through your lips as you felt the lifetime of exhaustion catch up with you. “I almost gave you all of me Carmen. Please just leave me alone” The words escaped your throat in a hoarse whisper. You were so far gone that you couldn’t even see the look of heartbreak and despair marring Carmen’s features.
“Baby, hey!” Your eyes shot to Richie as he blocked your line of vision to Carmen's. Head shaking back and forth arms slowly reaching out before coming to rest on your biceps thumbs gently massaging into them. “Let’s take a break Baby calm down a bit yeah?” He nodded his head waiting for you to nod along before he led you to the back, making sure to block your view of Carmen.
You were shaking as the two of you made your way past Nat a whispered ‘I’m sorry’ leaving your lips as she was left to deal with the mess that was Carmy.
“Fuck!” The loud crashes of a heavy object slamming into the floor caused you to jump in Richie’s hold as he led you back into the office.
Little tremors shook through your body as Richie carefully guided you to sit in the lone office chair. Taking his position by your legs as he squatted in front of you, worry etched into his features at having never seen you react like that.
Your hands came to grip Richie's, the tear tracks on your face now dried, you were almost positive you had run out of tears to cry.
“I lost everything, Richie,” your voice was strained. “And I…I spared him because I knew he couldn’t handle it, you knew he couldn’t handle it…not after Mikey.”
Richie’s eyes squeezed closed as he raised your intertwined hands to his forehead, haunting memories of you forcing their way through. He dropped your hands delicately cupping your face to press a kiss on your forehead, “I know Baby.” The words were spoken softly against your skin.
The two of you sat in that position as you gained control of your ragged breathing.
“I’m a hypocrite, Rich,” you separated yourself from him, locking eyes. “I blamed Carmy for so much out there…but I’ve done something so unforgivable, I don’t think you’ll look at me the same.” You wanted to cry but the exhaustion ate away at you.
“Hey I’ve been through some shit Baby, we’ve been through some shit, nothing,” the firm grip on your chin reminded you of the lost soul who should’ve been in the room with you two. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Nothing you say will change how I look at you.”
It was always weird to see Richie serious and the voice of reason, not that he didn’t have his moments, but seeing Rich without his signature smile made it feel like you had stripped him of something so personal.
“How bout this, Sug or I take you before you beat Carmy’s ass,” the sentence drew a small laugh out of you. “And then I’ll come over when I’m done here, pick up some dinner and we’ll have one of those nights like we used to when…when Mikey was still here.” You nodded your head not having enough energy to produce words.
Richie patted your knee rising to his full height as he headed to check on Sug and his idiot of a fucking cousin. “Oh hey, I’ll have Eva tonight, you don’t mind do you? She’s constantly on my ass about seeing her auntie Bebe.” Richie stood in the now open doorway awaiting your answer.
Your immediate response was yes, but you had to consider Tiff, unsure if she wanted her daughter around you considering your newly acquired title as recovering addict.
“I’d like that a lot, but I-I think you should get Tiff’s permission to bring Eva around me.” You knew your suggestion might upset Richie but it was for the best, and you would call Tiff yourself just to double-check.
“Hey no none of that shit, she’s my fucking kid too Baby.” The defensive tone in his voice immediately caused you to close your eyes, hands moving to massage your temples.
“Richie please, I just need you to do this for me okay? This isn’t about your parenting skills, Rich.” Richie watched you for a minute, the exhaustion noticeable.
He nodded sending you one last somber look before making his exit keen on chewing his little fucking asshole cousin a new one.
Richie could feel his anger rising in him as he walked past Marcus and Fak as they worked to remove appliances from the kitchen. He quickly sauntered toward the whispers of Sugar and Carmy becoming clearer as he finally made it to the front of the restaurant.
The first thing his eyes took notice of was the destroyed cash register lying in the middle of the floor, debris from the relic scattered across the room. Richie stood there taking in the scene, the two Berzatto siblings' conversation coming to a halt as Richie blew out a whistle, walking around the mess slowly clapping.
“You’re a real fucking piece of work Cousin,” Richie’s hand shot out to point in Carmy’s direction the younger man looking disheveled, the frown on his face almost comical.
Natalie felt her shoulders tense; she had known these two long enough to know nothing good would come out of this interaction. The fact that you were in the middle of all this would make whatever happened right now all the worse.
There were two things in the world Richie didn’t play about, little Eva; and you.
“Richie I don’t need your fucking bullshit right now.” Carmy moved to walk around the counter, hands fumbling in his pocket to get his cigarettes out, his focus on the door he was trying to escape through.
“You’re a piece of shit cousin.” Richie’s hands shot out to grip the collar of Carmy’s crew neck, shoving him into the counter.
Natalie’s shocked gasp of Richie’s name did nothing to tear the men away from each other.
“Get the fuck outta my face, Richie.” The shorter man shoved the man standing in front of him.
A rueful smile raised to Richie’s lips “That girl has bent over backward for your conceited ass time and time again, and you go and ruin the only good fucking thing you have going for yourself.” Richie’s hand raised thumb and middle finger moving to flick Carmy between the brows.
“You’re the last person that gets to talk to me about fucking ruining good things in my life.” Carmy’s free hand moved to swat at Richie’s.
“That empty fucking head of yours is so far up your ass you can’t see what the fucks been in front of you this whole time.
“Yo fuck you, Richie!”
The two loud voices echoed throughout the restaurant as the angry men tried to outyell each other.
“No you fucking listen to me! You don’t know what the fuck that girls been through. Where the fuck were you when shit went down Carmen! Huh!” Richie shoved Carmy again, the anger he felt for you pouring through him.
“Why the fuck weren’t you there for her whe-.”
“Richie!” Natalie’s stern voice caused Richie to harness some of his anger. “No.” The subtle shake of her head stopped his sentence mid-thought.
“You’re worse than the shit on the bottom of my shoe, and you don’t deserve to touch one pretty little hair on that girl’s head. And if I ever have to listen to her cry over you, watch her hurt over you again, you’re gonna wish Mikey was still here to save your ass.” Richie’s hand shot out to slap against the side of Carmen’s head, “Fucking bum.”
He removed himself from Carmy’s space, hands immediately raising as he faced Nat’s exhausted stare. “Sug I’m sorry, but get Baby home will you? I gotta finish up shit round here.”
Richie left the two Berzatto siblings to stand in the now quiet front of the restaurant, the sooner he finished his shit here, the sooner he and Eva could spend the evening with you.
Natalie looked at her younger brother scared of how this sequence of events would affect him. She took a step forward hand reaching out to Carmy before dropping it, “Hey, you okay?” The two siblings stood in silence, one worried about the well-being of her remaining brother.
And the other was trying to collect his racing thoughts, too many zooming through for him to even land on one.
“Where are we with the permits?” To Carmy’s ears, it sounded like he was underwater, his voice muffled, barely loud enough to be heard.
“Carm-.” Nat’s words were cut off with no chance of consoling him.
“Just get her home Nat and get back to me on those permits please.” Natalie watched as Carmy collected his phone and jacket, an unfocused wave of his hand sent in her direction before making his way through the exit, disappearing to who knows where.
Natalie watched as the front door latched shut, she couldn’t help but feel guilty for pushing you into this environment. If she had just let you re-acclimate yourself on your own time, maybe this situation could’ve been avoided.
Her hand fell to her stomach, eyes following suit, “Welcome to the family little one.”
The sound of your doorbell constantly ringing tore your stare away from the bottle sitting on your coffee table. You sat still for a minute before remembering the plans you made with Richie earlier in the day, your eyes shooting to the bottle before you quickly moved to hide it behind one of the couch pillows.
Since Natalie dropped you off earlier you had gone back and forth with the idea of finally coming clean to Richie. Your decision was led by your emotions from earlier in the day, but after finding the bottle of champagne you received in The Tribune’s welcome basket shoved in the back of your pantry, you were sorely rethinking your decision.
You adjusted the pillow to disguise any misshapen lumps before hurrying to the door to greet your guest. Hoping the forced smile was enough you opened the door feeling the once-fake smile begin to settle into a genuine one as you took in the father-daughter duo on your porch.
“Auntie Bebe!” You laughed, a lump forming in your throat at how big the young girl seemed to have gotten.
“Little E is that you?” Eva giggled at the exaggerated gasp you let out before throwing herself against your legs squeezing you tight.
She unlatched herself from you before gripping your hand and moving into the house, “Daddy bought us pizza!”
“Hey, Eva take your shoes off.” Richie gave you a small smile as he scolded the little girl, her huff of annoyance not going unnoticed by the two of you.
Richie finally walked through the door shutting and locking it behind him staring at you as he waited for instructions, “Hey E go ahead to the living room and pick out something to watch okay? I’m gonna help your dad real quick.”
You were rewarded with her adorable smile as she ran in the direction you pointed her to. You turned back to Richie taking the two pizza boxes from his hand to allow him to remove his shoes and jacket.
The two of you made your way to the kitchen setting the boxes down on your island with a clear view of Eva scrolling through your tv. You maneuvered around the kitchen for plates before brandishing them to Richie, eyes caught on Eva’s small figure in your living room.
“She’s gotten so big,” the tears you thought had run out earlier were once again making their appearance.
Richie’s head turned to you, “Aww Baby look at you ready to cry and shit, you just saw her a year ago.”
You listened to Richie’s intoxicating laugh, trying your best to find the humor in his words. The notion was hard though when the last memory you could’ve had of the sweet little girl waiting for the two of you in the living room was holding her at a funeral that could have just as easily been yours.
“You coming Baby?” Richie’s raised brows were aimed at you, he had already made his way to the living room setting the smaller plate in front of Eva.
You cleared your throat nodding your head with a forced smile on your lips. It was settled, Richie had every right to know that there could have been a universe where he had to survive without Mikey and you.
Eva was cuddled into your side as your fingers stoked through her blonde locks, her smaller hand playing with the rings on your free hand. The two of you sat staring at the paused episode of ‘The Dragon Prince’ waiting for Richie to return from the bathroom.
Sitting with Eva in your living room made your heart heavy with what could’ve been. A small sad smile traced your lips as you leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the crown of her head.
Eva’s head turned to yours, her tongue poking out at you as you returned the gesture, the two of you going back and forth making silly faces at each other before she released a small yawn. You watched as her small hand rose to gently run her little fingers across the scars on your face.
“Auntie Bebe?” You made a small noise to let her know you were listening. “Are you going to die?”
Your brows pinched together, Eva’s hand prodded at the scar between your eyebrows that was now more prominent, “Hey hey, where is this coming from?”
Her hand lowered to her lap as she turned her attention back to your ring-clad hand. “Mommy said you were sick…like Uncle Mikey…and that you tried to be with him.”
The ache in your chest was instant, you knew Tiff had tried to explain why you hadn’t visited but you didn’t know Eva had such an understanding of everything.
She raised your hand so it was in front of the two of you, little fingers dancing across yours, “And Uncle Mikey left us 'cause he was sick and I don’t want you to leave to Bebe.”
“Little E, look at me,” you waited as she adjusted next to you small body, cuddling into you more as her face turned to you. “I was sick…just like Uncle Mikey, but I’m doing a lot better now. And I got hurt, that’s why I have these scars on my face but a lot of good people helped me, like Auntie Nat, and even your mom.”
You stopped allowing the child to digest your words, you were trying to explain things in the simplest terms, and the small girl next to you didn’t need to know any of the details. “As much as I miss Uncle Mikey I could never leave behind my Little E.”
Eva shrieked as you moved forward to tickle her doing your best to make a very tough conversation end on a light note for the sweet little girl who brought joy to your world.
“How about some ice cream, yeah?” You watched as the small girl nodded up and down excitedly, her arms coming up to wrap around your neck as she planted a small kiss on your cheek.
“I missed you, Auntie Bebe.”
Your hand reached out to ruffle the girl's hair, “I missed you too Little E.” She removed herself from around you laying across the empty couch cushions.
You let out a little laugh before grabbing the empty plates and moving to the kitchen to get Eva her ice cream. You jumped at the sight of Richie leaning against the island in your kitchen arms crossed against his chest.
“Why are you standing in my kitchen like a fucking weirdo Richie,” you laughed moving to place the plates in the sink before grabbing a bowl for the ice cream. “Eva’s okay to have ice cream right, I know it's a little late bu-”
“What the hell was Eva talking about Baby,” you looked over your shoulder Richie’s stern eyes focused on you eyes piercing through you as opposed to at you.
You sat the bowl and ice cream on the island before searching for your ice cream scooper, the silence droning on as you began scooping out ice cream for Eva.
“I fucked up Richie,” you finally looked up to Richie eyes wet with tears as you watched him tightly shut his eyes and begin shaking his head back and forth. Not prepared for what he was about to hear.
You quickly finished with ice cream, returning everything to its location and dropping the scoop in the sink before grabbing a spoon. You made your way to Eva sending her a small smile as you handed the bowl to her, “I need to talk to your daddy okay? Go ahead and finish watching without us mamas.” Your words went in one ear and out the other, her attention fully on the treat in her hands. You gave her one last smile before braving yourself for what the kitchen had in store for you.
“I uh…I was in a bad place after Chicago we had just buried Mikey and then…the hospital happened,” you stopped taking a deep breath to get through this conversation. “I should’ve come home Richie I-.” You couldn’t get the words out your throat felt like it was constricting. It felt as though if you tried confessing you would choke on the words before you could even come clean to Richie.
Richie sat next to you at your small circular dining table chair turned towards you, eyes flicking to Eva’s figure every few seconds to make sure she was okay. Richie wasn’t even sure he wanted you to continue, but a huge part of him needed to know what you went through, he thought he had already seen you at your lowest point but the gravity of your words assured him that was nothing compared to the confession you were about to lay at his feet.
“I overdosed Rich.” Richie froze having thought he hadn’t heard you correctly for a second but as he watched the despair take over your face, he knew he heard you right.
His hand came up to wipe across his mouth, the reality of your words barely setting in. “Baby no, no, no, no.” The laugh that accompanied his words morphed into a silent sob as he tucked his head into his hands.
You swallowed your cry fighting to escape as you turned to make sure Eva was still okay, a reprieve from the hard conversation you were having.
You moved from your chair standing in front of Richie so you could console him, his arms wrapped around your waist as his head settled against your stomach, the shaking of his body proof to you that cries were still wracking his body.
The silent sobs turned into quiet cries, his hands gripping the extra fabric of your shirt at the waist. Your tears could no longer be held back bending at the waist you rested your forehead against the back of Richie’s head.
While Richie was crying over the sister he almost lost; you cried over the lives you ruined.
“Auntie Bebe I finished my ice cream!” You took in a deep breath against Richie’s head moving your own from its previous position.
You moved to step out of Richie’s grip, his hands tightening around your shirt tears seeping through to dampen your skin. “I gotta help E, I promise I’ll be back Richie.”
The breath you took in choked you as you had to pry Richie’s clenched fingers out of the fabric of your shirt. You quickly wiped your cheeks before making your way over to Eva grabbing the bowl from her hands and sending her a forced smile.
“Can I spend the night Bebe?” The hope in her eyes made your chest heave.
“How about I call your mom tomorrow and we arrange something for another time, is that okay with you?” Your hands brushed across her forehead, clearing the hair from her face.
She pouted, sinking into the couch cushion, “E, hey you can come visit me whenever, but tonight just isn’t a good night for a sleepover.”
You watched as her eyes began to water, “But what if you try to leave again?” You hadn’t realized how intuitive children could be at times, you bent down to make yourself eye level with Eva.
“Listen, mamas, I’m just a phone call away okay? Anytime you’re scared I might be gone just ask your mom or dad to call me and I’ll answer every time, I promise.” Everyone knew making promises to children was a slippery slope, but you intended on keeping this promise with every ounce of your being, it was time for you to start taking some responsibility.
Eva nodded her head throwing her little arms around your neck and gracing you with a hug you weren’t aware you needed. You gave a small kiss to her temple before pulling away and setting the empty bowl on your coffee table.
“How about you lay down okay? Your dad and I might be awhile,” She nodded, moving and leaning against the pillow, her sudden weight revealing the champagne bottle you had hidden behind it, you quickly covered her with the throw blanket on your couch before picking up the bowl and bottle and making your way back to the kitchen.
You gently placed the bowl in the sink before making your way over to Richie whose head was still in his hands. His eyes found yours as he heard you take your seat, before skating across the unopened bottle you had set between the two of you.
“I’ve been sober for five months now,” watching Richie’s bloodshot eyes slowly blink at you as he drank your every word in felt like a knife being continuously shoved through your chest. “No drugs, no alcohol.” Your voice trailed off, this was the first time you had admitted your shortcomings by choice.
“Ho-How’d it happen?” Your eyes focused on Richie’s Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down, his face pinching together like asking that simple question was equivalent to swallowing glass.
“I uh don’t know the full story, just what the doctors told Nat and me,” you could see the hurt on his face that Nat was already privy to the information. “I didn’t tell her by choice, uh after my mom died my family kind of distanced themselves from me and so N-Nat became my power of attorney.”
He nodded his head, unfocused eyes floating around your kitchen, “Can you tell me?”
A tired sigh left you “Rich I don’t thi-,”
“I need to know Baby, please.” His hand shot out to grip yours, desperation you had never before seen seeping from his eyes.
You cleared your throat taking in a deep breath, “When I left Chicago, I just felt so…alone. It was like everywhere I looked there was either a reminder of Mikey or a reminder of…of what we lost.” Richie’s free hand returned to swipe across his mouth, eyes everywhere but you.
“The pills were prescription I…I can’t remember when I started taking them or when the dependency started but I-I know the alcohol started first. I deluded myself into thinking that I could do what Mikey couldn't…that I could numb the pain and function at the same time.
“It was like that for a while and then it just gradually got worse until I ended up hospitalized with no recollection of how I even got there and…and Natalie just crying and staring at me and the thing is I had heard those cries from her once before.” The same cries you listened to as she revealed Mikey’s fate to you.
“Um, the story is that I had been mixing drugs and alcohol which yeah I was. But that day I guess it finally went too far, for some reason I was trying to get to my patio and I guess I couldn’t figure out the door, I just…repeatedly threw myself into the glass until it shattered.” Your free hand moved unconsciously to pick at the scar lining the right side of your jaw, Richie’s hand quickly snatching it away urging you to continue your story.
“Wasn’t done yet though was I,” you looked at Richie expecting a chuckle out of him but the stoic look in his eyes told you he wasn’t in the mood for half-baked jokes. “I took two more pills and stumbled bloody through my apartment before making it out of my door and collapsing in a pool of my blood and vomit. A neighbor found me and called the ambulance.” You were glad you had no recollections of what would’ve been your final moments.
The silence in the kitchen was heavy, the words you had shared between the two of you more than anything Richie could have ever prepared himself for.
“Baby why…why didn’t you call me?” Richie’s hand covered his mouth in a fist as another cry escaped his lips wide teary eyes finally focused on yours.
“I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Richie could feel his heart breaking as he listened to the crack in your voice as you spoke, you had been so scared to disappoint him that you had hidden a part of yourself for him for so long.
“How long have you been in Chicago? You avoided Richie’s gaze, not brave enough to see the look of hurt and betrayal.
“I spent a month in Wisconsin at a treatment facility, I’ve been in Chicago since December.”
“And Tiff knew about this?”
“Yeah…uh she kind of forced it out of Natalie, I guess Eva kept asking about me.” You watched as Richie’s head slowly nodded as he carefully let your words play in his head.
Richie leaned forward in his chair, elbows coming to rest on his knees as his clasped hands rested against his mouth.
“I’m not disappointed in you Baby,” Richie’s eyes rose to yours. “But I’m real fuckin hurt and the shit you just laid on me was a lot to take in but I…I want to understand and I want to be here for you.”
The tears that had subsided were now back pouring down your face in droves, “I’m so sorry Richie, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I promise you I’m trying to be better, I will be better. I don’t think I'll get another shot at this after this one.”
Richie stood from his chair pulling you up with him, immediately tugging you into his chest hugging you tightly under the ambient kitchen lighting. He knew his hugs would never match up to Mikey’s, that his role in your life would never compare to Mikey's. But he loved you so much and learning that you had fallen victim to the same poison as Mikey made him feel like an utter failure.
Richie tilted his head down planting a kiss on the crown of your head, the saltiness of his tears passing over his lips.
What purpose did he have if he couldn’t even keep his last promise to Mikey?
Carmen’s day had come to an end hours ago but he just couldn’t get himself to fall asleep, all the words you had said to him playing over and over again in his head.
He had been so caught up in your argument that he blew his food-hopping plans off with Syd, and couldn’t even get himself to return any of the many missed phone calls he received from the number he knew to be Claire’s
Not that he even wanted to but he felt the girl deserved a proper explanation.
After leaving the restaurant and wandering the Chicago streets he found himself back where his life seemed to begin and end. Pouring what was left of him into helping the rest of the crew start the gut on the restaurant. He wasn’t proud that he let his emotions regarding your situation get the best of him, leading to an unnecessary and petty argument with Sydney. But he knew the two of them would work their issues out.
He couldn’t be sure that the same could be said for the two of you though.
The journal he had started a year ago sat open in his lap, the Polaroid he used to keep his place gently rested on his bedside table, the small lamp illuminated the two of you staring at each other eyes full of love as you wore matching smiles.
A teardrop landed on the ink-stained pages of his journal. The words he wanted to say to you easily poured out of him when he sat down to write to you. The journal began as a way for him to express what he felt for you, but as the months went on and the writing became a part of his routine they turned into letters to you he’d never have the guts to send.
His hand came up to swipe across his face before reaching for the pristine Polaroid and neatly tucking it between the designated pages. The journal was then safely placed in his bedside drawer. He knew he needed to give you space, he just wasn’t sure if there had ever been a future written in the stars for the two of you.
Picking up his phone he opened it to your newly saved contact, the need to hear your voice spilling more tears from his eyes. Your voice rang through his head as he thought about your words from earlier, Carmy couldn’t lie, he knew you loved him and had known for a while but hearing you say it aloud had finally awoken that part in him that would allow himself the pleasure of loving you back.
He couldn’t do it, couldn’t get himself to call you. A sob ripped through him as he locked his phone and set it down, the hope he had earlier to work things out with you was now gone, and he had no one left to blame but himself.
Carmy laid back in bed, eyes blankly staring at the ceiling, one arm bent at a right angle to support his head. He had really and truly ruined whatever relationship was left between you two.
Carmy’s hand dipped into the collar of his tank top, gripping the small pendant he found dangling from his chain after returning home from his shift the night you made your departure from his New York apartment.
His fingers had gotten used to tracing over the initial of your first name that he proudly wore around his neck. The closest thing he even had to you now.
Carmy’s eyes watered as he raised the initial pendant to his lips, a lingering kiss pressed into it, and a whispered “I love you,” filtered through the quiet of his room.
tag list: @saturnheart @r0s3mm @wheredidmycrowngo @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @gabbycoady13 @randomhoex @mattmurdocksstarlight @shinebright2000 @royalestrellas @jam1esl0v4 @globetrotter28 @dankfarrick29 @flowersgirl02 @beingalive1 @fairytale07 @smoooore @ghost-timelord @xxxstormyninixxx
so i’ve reached the limit of people i can mention in a single post, i apologize if you asked to be tagged and were left off it was not intentional. i’m gonna figure something out to try and fix this…sorry : (
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#the bear fic#the bear x reader#carmen berzatto angst#carmen berzatto x you#carmy the bear#all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] updates
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Can Anybody See Me? Part 2
Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.
Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.
Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)
Part 1
*
The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.
Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.
His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.
Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.
It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.
He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.
*
Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.
How was he going to do this?
And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.
Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.
But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?
Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.
Odd
1-History
3- Math
5- Chemistry
lunch
7- Baseball
Even
2-Swimming
4-English
6-Art
lunch
8-Basketball
Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.
Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.
Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.
The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.
*
At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.
“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.
Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”
Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”
Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”
“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.
Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”
“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”
“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.
“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.
“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”
“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.
Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”
Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”
Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”
Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”
Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”
Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21
Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites
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Redamancy: Chapter Two
Jasper Hale x Reader
Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?
Warnings: None
Notes: So sorry it took me more than a week to post, life kind of imploded and knocked me off the schedule I had planned. This chapter is honestly just filler so it can get to the good stuff… I plan to take this story all the way to Breaking Dawn at the very least. Thank you for all the love on the previous chapter!! Enjoy!
Word Count: 1695
Series Masterlist
• January 24th, 2005 • Forks High School •
Reader
Thankfully the first half of the day went rather uneventful, although I am disappointed I haven’t had a class with the handsome Jasper Hale yet. I did however, make friends with his adopted siblings Alice and Emmett Cullen. Both of which are gorgeous in their own right, but nowhere near as attractive as their blonde brother.
In English I sat in the unoccupied seat next to Alice Cullen, gratefully so. She seems like just the kind of friend a new girl needs in order to survive high school. I transferred to this place at such a horrible time in the year - almost at the end of my 11th grade. But after just a few minutes of knowing her, Alice caught me up on everything I missed. Turns out I’ve pretty much read everything they had covered this year and then some, fingers crossed that it continues to be a trend in most of my classes.
I learned that the boy walking with Jasper Hale this morning when I so rudely almost killed him with the door to the front office, is his adopted brother Emmett Cullen. A hulking mass of muscle, but a complete teddy bear, he kept me entertained for most of Trig. I can already tell that sitting in front of him was probably a bad move on my part for my academic career, but the guy is an absolute comedian.
Parting ways with Emmett after Math, I made my way to my locker. Digging the wrinkled combination paper out of my pocket, I was studying the numbers right when I bumped into a thin scrap of a girl with brown hair and an orange backpack. Immediately cursing myself I dropped to the ground to gather her notes before they could be stepped on by the stampede of people rushing to the cafeteria for lunch.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry! I-I just wasn’t paying attention, I was looking at my stupid locker combination and-“ I scrambled for excuses, word vomit spilling from my lips.
“Oh um, it’s okay! I’m not the most graceful person, so no worries.” An awkward pause, “Hey, you’re the new girl right?” She asked.
“Unfortunately.” I replied, looking up with a sad smile. I stuck out my hand to shake, “I’m Y/n Y/l/n, you are?”
“Bella Swan, former new girl I guess.” She responded as she lightly shook my hand. “You can sit with me during lunch if you want, maybe us gracefully-challenged should stick together.”
“Oh absolutely.” I chuckled a little, “I’ll grab my lunch from my locker and find you in there.”
“Cool, see you then.” She replied with a half-wave as she continued down the hallway to the cafeteria.
Jasper
One of the convenient things about being a vampire is that we really don’t necessarily need to breathe. In public places packed with humans, I can just hold my breath, but the challenge comes in making it still seem like I’m breathing.
Lost in my thoughts while Emmett and Rosalie drone on about plans after school, I spot the new girl - Y/n enter the cafeteria. I sit up straighter in my seat and observe her shamelessly as she walks unknowingly in my direction, switching paths as she spots the object of Edward’s latest desire: Isabella Swan. I spare a glance to my stoic adopted brother and see him rising from his seat, probably headed in the same direction as Y/n.
Walking up to the pair, I could tell his eyes were only on Isabella. Both girls stared up at him in awe, their emotions giving away that they were surprised to see him seeking them, or rather a certain one of them, out.
“Isabella-“ Edward started but was interrupted by Y/n.
“I’ll… go find us a seat.” Bella didn’t even spare her a glance as Y/n rushed away.
“Bro, you’re staring a little hard there, something catch your eye?” Emmett said, leaning over Rosalie to nudge my ribs. I turn to him and discreetly flash a crude gesture, causing him to chuckle. I love my brother, he just thrives on getting a rise out of me any chance he gets.
Alice smacks my shoulder, “You two behave, she’s shy and I’ll be upset if your rowdiness scares her off.” My adopted sister huffs in slight frustration at our antics.
“As if we need another human in our business.” Rosalie grumbles from her spot between myself and her mate. Crossing her arms, she stares daggers at the back of Edward’s head from where he’s talking to Bella Swan.
“Oh hush, I want more friends outside of you guys, plus Y/n is relatively safe. Cheer up Rose, I’ve already seen you get along with her rather nicely!” Alice fires back at Rose.
“I haven’t even met her yet-“ Rosalie leans forward to argue.
“But you will and you’ll love her, end of story.” Alice says matter-of-factly.
Rose leans back in her seat, huffing as Emmett pats her thigh. She swipes his hand away, not happy that he finds it amusing that she’ll have to deal with another one of her brother’s fixations on a human girl. It’s always so easy to read Rosalie’s emotions, she wears them so boldly and almost prefers to torture me with their intensity sometimes, as if to get her point across even more than her biting words.
I let out a sigh at their exchange concerning Y/n, she’s been here for half a day and already a hot topic for even us.
I’ve been in a trance pretty much since lunch, the two classes following it were uneventful allowing my thoughts to fill with day-dreams of the new girl.
Her hair, the way her oversized sweater hangs from her shoulders, her intoxicating scent…
The bell ending sixth period startles me from my reverie. This girl almost put a me-sized-dent in the door to the front office this morning and here I am obsessing over minuscule details after only seeing her twice.
I gather my notes and writing utensils before filing out of the door behind my fellow classmates. I slow my walk to the next class in hopes that I might catch a glimpse of her before the end of the day. I don’t even know her emotional signature yet like I do my adopted siblings, a handy ability I’ve managed to teach myself to find them in busy situations.
My search for Y/n comes up short, the hallways are mostly empty by the time the warning bell rings for the final instruction of the day. With a small huff I enter my seventh period class keeping my eyes on the floor as I make my way to my assigned seat.
“Glad you could make it in the nick of time, Mister Hale.” Mr. Ellis states rather loudly in an accusatory tone, raising an eyebrow as I sit and the final tardy bell rings.
An almost imperceptible gasp to my right keeps me from replying, I clamp my mouth shut and force myself not to meet the gaze I could feel boring into my back as flames begin to lick down my throat.
Wonderful, not only was I late enough to garner the attention of everyone in the room, but Y/n Y/l/n is in my history class and I can’t breathe for the next forty-four minutes.
• January 24th, 2005 • Home •
Reader
“How was school sweetheart?” My mother yells from the kitchen as I push open our front door, I swear that woman wastes no time when digging for information.
“Jeez, let me get in the door first!” I yell back with a light-hearted chuckle, setting my backpack on the ground by the couch just inside the living room.
“Sorry, I’m just excited to see how everything went.” Her voice is much closer this time and I turn to see her walking down the connecting hallway wiping her hands on a dish towel.
I flop onto my back on the couch as she leans over the back, folding her arms under her chest with an expectant look on her face ready for my response.
“Well, I don’t think it’ll be hard to catch up in-“ but my mom interrupts me excitedly.
“No, no, no! I need the good stuff! Did you make any friends? See any cute guys?” I could burst out laughing at the look on her face and the fact that she’s more concerned about my social life than my academics on the first day of school in a new town.
“Mom!” I drag the word out in exasperation as I smush a decorative pillow to my face to hide the slight heat in my cheeks.
“There’s a cute boy! I knew it!” She practically yells in victory, “tell me everything, baby girl!”
I pull the pillow down enough to reveal my eyes to her, “I almost killed him with a door.” I mumble in a rather sad tone.
“Oh dear God.” She immediately becomes serious, rounding the couch to push my legs off, forcing me upright so she can sit next to me, “it can’t be that bad!”
“I wasn’t looking while I pushed open the door to the front office and he barely caught it in time before it hit him square in the face!” I blurt out in a rush and drop the pillow to cover my face with my hands. “Definitely not the way to start off on the right foot.”
“Oh honey,” she tries to sooth me, guiding my hands away from my face and into her hold, “look at it this way - you’ve captured his attention in a way that’ll be memorable. Sure it isn’t without embarrassment, but now you’ve made a first impression he’ll never forget!”
“Yeah and I’ll probably never hear the end of it.” I mumble as I bury my face in her shoulder, sighing deeply. I hesitate, “We do have one class together.”
The gasp my mother lets out immediately sends me into a fit of giggles, forgetting all about my early morning embarrassment.
Next
#jasper hale x reader#twilight#jasper hale#jasper whitlock#jasper whitlock hale#twilight fanfiction#redamancy series#bless-my-demons#female reader insert#jasper hale fanfiction
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"Listen," Taako said, kicking his feet up on the Director's desk. "Cha'boy needs to live somewhere else."
"I'm… sorry?" the Director said. She looked like she had just woken up. Because she did. Whoops. The concept of time and Taako didn't really agree with each other. If the best time to get his thoughts out was six in the goddamn morning, then who was Taako to reject that? Not after he spent all night with motherfucks he has to dorm with.
"Cha'boy," Taako repeated, slowly. "Needs. To live. Somewhere else."
"Can I-" the Director sighed, dropping her face into her hands. She inhaled. Rubbed at her temples. Looked back up with an expression Taako could only describe as deep and utter regret. "Do I even want to know why?"
"No," Taako said. "But I got a list, so hang onto your hat. Number one-" he leaned back in the chair, teetering on the back legs. "-I need my beauty sleep."
"Don't we all," the Director asked, deadpan.
"You'll be fine," Taako said. "But this look takes work, compadre. Do you think I just wake up looking like this?" The Director opened her mouth. "Don't answer that." The Director shut her mouth. "But I doubt Magnus even knows what an inside voice is and Merle doesn't understand the concept of closing his fucking bedroom door and I am so, so close to committing even more crimes against death."
"Taako…"
"Two," Taako said, holding up two fingers. "Merle and Magnus both, objectively, smell awful. Have you stood near Merle recently, Director?"
"I… can't say I have," the Director said. There was a deep look of worry on her face now.
"Good," Taako said. "'Cus it's bad. I think he just eats deodorant instead of actually putting it on. And number three-"
Taako considered. Being tired of having to sneak his boyfriend around probably wasn't a good excuse, considering the Director didn't know that one, said boyfriend existed, and two, that he was even on the moon in the first place. Or knew the moon wasn't, y'know, the moon. But man, it felt bad to end his list on two. That was pathetic. He at least needed a three.
"Number three," Taako began again. "I deserve it."
"You deserve it," the Director repeated dryly.
"Sure as hell do," Taako said. "Like, you deal with a weapon of mass destruction several times and you don't even get a sweet room upgrade? Do you even have a retention plan, Director?"
Yes. Score one for Taako. He was so good at this.
"I like to think that the agreement of not dying from said weapon of mass destruction is some pretty good retention for most people," the Director said, which, yeah, fair.
"But I'm Taako," Taako said.
"Yeah," the Director said. "And it's five in the fucking morning, Taako. What the hell do you want me to do about it?"
"I'll take a new room," Taako said, crossing his legs in a different direction. The Director slid some documents away from his feet. "And maybe like, a raise. Sound good?"
"Hm," the Director said. She squinted at him. Taako dropped the chair back down to all four legs. After a moment, she cleared her throat. "What month is it?"
"May-ish," Taako said. "Y'know, around there."
"Around there," the Director said, nodding. "Come back to me, uh- let's- let's say after midsummer. And we'll see what we can do."
"After midsummer," Taako said echoed. "Need I remind you that last midsummer, the entire sky kinda like, got fucked up with a buncha eyes? Remember that? That was a thing that happened."
"Rest assured that they will be dealt with this year if they so choose to return," the Director said.
"Somehow that's not really reassuring me," Taako said.
"It's part of the retention plan," the Director said. "Now if you could please get the fuck out of my office, that would be stellar."
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Outside The Office Chapter Twenty Five
TW: Reader faces consequences of her self injurious actions.
I tiptoed over the metal pathway that guided people over Vox’s massive shark tanks. Part of me knew it was fully enclosed and totally safe. But the other part of me still feared falling in- the ending for that wouldn’t be pretty. Around me, screens lined the walls leading to his primary office. I stepped into the circular room.Only one chair sat smack in the middle- his.
“Welcome, welcome, reader,” Vox said as he turned his chair around. He clasped his hands together. “So glad you could make it.”
That unsettled feeling rushed through my gut. Vox knew, he had to. Otherwise what was this?
“I have something interesting to show you.” Vox said calmly as he stood up. “Com’here. Take a seat.”
I took a step back and he shook his head. I heard the metal of the door slide shut behind me.
Fuck.
“I mean, you could try to back out ,kid, but then I would have to go straight to Lucifer and Valentino and honestly, what would that get you?” Vox continued in a rather unbothered voice.
He had a point. Hesitantly, I took the proffered seat, half expecting to be strapped down like a horror movie. That didn’t happen, thankfully. Vox hit a button and all the screens but the biggest went black. Data flashed in front of me. Pulse rate. Respiration rate. Blood oxygen Level. Blood pressure. EKG chart. Temperature. Blood glucose level. Hydration level. Weight. A mix of numbers.
“See, what’s interesting about these numbers,” Vox said as his hands pressed heavily against my shoulder. “Is that they’re drastically different from just a few days ago.”
Another screen popped up. Higher numbers in some areas. Lower in the other.
I swallowed as I looked at the vital signs on the two screens. I decided at that moment that playing dumb was my best option.
“So? What am I looking at?” I asked. Even to me, my voice sounded shaky.
Vox had the nerve to chuckle. “Oh, princess, you know exactly what you’re looking at. But if we’re going to play that game, I have another video to show you. Several actually.”
Double fuck.
I watched the flash. One showed myself at the gym that morning, knelt over the garbage can. Another showed me tossing away breakfast. Another of me played quickly as I went through that morning’s routine, going to the gym, coming home, showering, Vox and I in the kitchen, talking. Me, scribbling in my notebook the day before, outlining my plan.
“You know what’s even stranger? I specifically asked you if you had eaten lunch and yet…I can’t find you doing so anywhere in the video. So either my technology is faulty, or you lied to me.” He leaned down closer, “And I promise you, my cameras aren't the issue.”
God fucking damn it.
Vox dropped the notebook into my lap. “Open in. Tell me where any why you think this little plan of yours is a good one. Come on, reader, I want to know.”
His voice was dark. Dangerous. Terrifying. This wasn’t my Vox, this was…Vox as an overlord. I swallowed. “Vox, this is the plan verbatim for new recruits, I used to do it to…”
“I know all that.” He waved his hand dismissively. “That data has been in my harddrive for years, that isn’t what I’m asking. I want to know why YOU thought it was a good idea to put YOURSELF through it, knowing that your powers are growing, knowing there is a difference- especially for you- between what you could do in heaven and hell, and probably most importantly, why you KNEW it was so terrible that you felt the need to hide it and yet, still did it anyway.”
I didn’t think I could feel any smaller. “I wanted to be stronger. I just, I knew you guys hate the way angels do things so I thought I just…”
“Would do it anyway?” He rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Kid, we despise how they act because what’s normal to you is incredibly cruel in actuality. You’re honestly lucky I paid attention because if you let this go longer, Valentino’s anger would be the least of your worries. Look how little it took to fuck up your vitals. A few days of stress induced vomiting and here we are.” His voice softened. “The question is now, how are we going to handle this? Because I won’t let you keep doing this to yourself.”
I looked at him in confusion. “Why are you asking me that? Aren't you just going to tell Valentino and Lucifer and let them handle it?”
He shrugged, “I mean, that’s an option you could choose. But I don’t think it needs to go that far, at least, not right now. So I’ll make a deal with you.”
I hesitated. “What kind of deal?”
He squeezed my shoulders. “The kind that doesn’t harm you. I need a few things if this is going to stay between us. I need you to eat. I need those vitals to improve. And I need to never, ever see you push yourself that hard ever again. You can work out in moderation, and eat healthy but you cannot break yourself time and time again. The next time it happens, I won’t be the only one who knows. Understood?”
I nodded in defeat. The crushing feeling of self loathing settled over me like a cloud of darkness. But another part of me, a very, very small part, was glad that I had been seen.
“Oh, and if your vitals don’t improve the deal is off. Lucifer will know and Valentino will know, and I’ll take you down to the hospital myself. And trust me, you won’t like what they do to you there.” His eye swirled for half a second and then he blinked. His tone lightened and he clasped one hand on my shoulder. “Let’s start with lunch, shall we?”
I glanced back at him in both disbelief and fear. “Wait a second. Let me get this straight- you’re keeping this between us? You’re not tattling on me?”
Vox shrugged. “I see no reason to make this a bigger deal than it needs to be. I sincerely don’t think any long term harm will come to you because I caught you so early. You’re not fighting me on it, you acknowledged the issue. You have to trust someone in here, sweetheart. And for whatever reason, you don’t feel yet that you can trust your boyfriend's reaction. So at the very least, trust mine.” He offered his hand and he pulled me to my feet. “Now come on, let’s get you back on the right track. I know a place that has the most amazing salads. And I have one of my employees building an appropriate, data driven workout plan that should get you where you want to be in a much healthier way.”
As I followed him out the door I wondered if this was what it felt like to have an older brother, or maybe a parent who cared enough to notice when things weren't quite right. And even moreso, who cared enough to listen and call me out on my bullshit when I backtracked. Whereas my father would have been thrilled I pushed myself that hard, Vox clearly wasn’t. But instead of the harsh punishments, he offered a compromise. He offered safety, and trust in a drastically different way than Valentino did.
Lunch alone with Vox further proved my point. True to his word, the restaurant he took me to did have the best salads, and after eating a sufficient amount, he walked me back to the apartment. Before he left, he handed me a thin file- the workout plan he promised.
“No one will be angry you’re trying to get stronger. But no one will stand for you to hurt yourself either,” he warned before embracing me in a hug. “It gets better, kid. You don’t have to be that perfect little angel ever again- you can let that go.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
Alone in the apartment, his words echoing in my mind, there was one lingering thing still bothering me. Valentino. Vox was right, I didn’t feel like I could tell him when this all began. Maybe part of me feared his punishment. No, that wasn’t what I was afraid of. I feared his rejection.
But the Vee’s were close. All it would take was one slip of a video from Vox to Valentino, or one accidental mention and all of this would come spilling out. Would his reaction be worse if he found I kept it from him longer than I already had? I decided I wouldn’t take that chance.
I stepped back into the elevator and hit the button to Valentino’s studio. I needed to do this now, while I had the nerve.
#valentino x reader#valentino x wife#the vees#valentino x you#hazbin fluff#vox x reader#valentino#hazbin hotel#the vees x reader#valentino hazbin hotel#vox hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#vox#hazbin vox#voxval#vees#vox the tv demon#vox hazbin x reader
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Deafening - Diavolo x Fallen Noble!MC
In which MC, a noble fallen from grace is engaged to the future Demon King. The slander they hear behind their back is loud, but the silence in their office from being too busy to see Diavolo is louder.
So… it’s been a while… 😭 I’m really sorry for not being more consistent. I’ve been really busy with school and been in a writing slump. I’ll be trying to post more once finals end, so I hope you enjoy!
Bags under their eyes, MC drags the pen across the paper. Their study was eerily quiet, as it was most of the time. MC didn’t know what was worse, their family accidentally blowing up the study or having to work endlessly in silence. Their lady in waiting claimed it was silence.
“Could you all resist the urge to blow up my private study every time I leave?” MC asked, wrinkles forming on their forehead, “Or at the very least, not have this occur every week?”
“Come now! Isn’t the silence working alone deafening?”
Such was true this time. The sound of their pen scratching the paper wasn’t enough for their head. Their study was filled with papers left and right. Documents lined their cupboards and dressers. Scattered around, there was an accessory left behind by the fifth born or a pen gifted by the eldest.
They missed the vibrant sound of laughter after they got electrocuted by a suspicious sticky note by their desk. They missed the gasps and hushed whispers (which turned into whisper shouts) after certain people dropped some documents.
They missed the prince’s arms around their shoulders at the end of the day, dragging them to bed. They were stuck in their room for the past couple days, focusing on the paperwork in front of them. A dispute of sorts between two powerful noble houses. One was a side-branch of Mephistopheles’ house and the other was a prominent figure in external Devildom affairs. Ugh, they’ve been at it for how long? Yet now, this problem has become a serious issue.
The noble in charge of external Devildom affairs has been withholding certain goods from the other house, causing throngs of issues. Conferences between both houses have been heated. Hell, even conferences not about either house or external issues in general have the two houses arguing. And who got the short end of the stick? The people who deal with the aftermath of a group of petty nobles.
Worst of all, no matter how much work MC does, how much effort they put in, it’s always ignored. They’re just the leftovers of the more important nobles or so they say. Neither house were all too happy with MC taking over their problem, which pissed off Diavolo more than he’d admit to any noble. In his words, ‘Why complain about a problem, then proceed to complain about a solution presented in your hands?’
What could MC do other than work harder? They needed their social position to improve, so whatever could they do? They didn’t even have a debutante ball like all nobles do during their first step into high society. They was invited to gatherings, only to listen to nobles ramble about Diavolo. It was tiring, but nothing could be done because of MC’s house circumstances. And it was something they never could have controlled and never can be fixed.
Another document done. Too many left to go. All the while the sounds of the castle being drowned out of the room with the soundproof door. They’ve been doing nothing but eating, working and sleeping for the past weeks. They barely have time to go to the House of Lamentation and it breaks their own heart.
Even Diavolo has been busy with the same problem. He’s been in his personal study, dealing with this, the exchange program and probably even more shit. And while MC does understand; they truly do, they wish the situation didn’t suck ass. The emptiness in the room was deafening on MC’s ears.
MC barely registered the sound of the door opening as they focused on their work. Calculate these numbers, write this down, feel a warm presence on your shoulder… wait what? The hand on their shoulder gripped tight enough to make MC’s shoulders relax, but not hurt them. They felt their will to keep working weaken and wither away as their fiance massages their stiff shoulders. If only their work wasn’t urgent.
Diavolo bends his head down into the crook of MC’s shoulder. “You should rest, my monarch.” He whispers into their ear. “You have been working for long hours for several days.”
“I can’t.” MC shakes their head, shrugging their shoulders away from Diavolo’s hands. “I need to fix this situation as soon as possible.”
Their head hurt, like a burning pit within the depths of their brain. It’s the stress, it’s usually stress. Back to back long work days take a toll on people, even on demons. It was an ache that doesn’t leave with sleep and stayed for a while. Ouch.
“Now, this work isn’t more important than your health…”
MC believes he’s still speaking. They thinks so at least. They can’t hear him, but they feels his mouth against their ear. They feel light. Their head feels light.
“...care…don’t…”
Hurts. Hurts too much. The headache hurts too much.
“M… MC!”
Lights dimmed then went black. MC felt their body fall forward, but some hands held them up.
…
The lights started to flicker in rays. Slowly the rays multiplied, leading way to MC’s surroundings. Their vision, at first blurry and gradually becoming clearer, depicts Diavolo looking horrified.
“Oh- thank goodness you’re awake MC! I’m.. so thankful…”
His last couple words came out hitched. He held MC’s upper body up beside him using his arm supporting the front of their shoulders. MC noted they was still on their chair, meaning they blacked out briefly. They leaned back.
“Careful now…” Diavolo gently reclined them, cupping the back of their head with his palm.
“Sorry, did I worry you?” MC asked, massaging their temples harshly. Their headache was a bit fainter, yet persistent. How irritating.
“Worry me- MC you just passed out! Surely you believe you need the rest now.” Diavolo firmly said. It was clearly a statement rather than an option.
“...no.”
“MC-”
“No, I need to finish this.”
Diavolo stands in between MC and their desk with his hands on their shoulders, looking into their eyes. “I understand you need to get it done. However, running yourself ragged like this-”
“Is a necessity.” MC cuts him off, trying to maneuver around him to reach their pen. However they was stopped by Diavolo taking their hands in his. It would have been a romantic gesture if tensions weren’t high. MC’s headache intensified, spinning and squeezing, clearly doing a number on them.
“Enough MC.” His voice was completely serious. To anyone who didn’t know him personally, it would have sounded menacing. “You shouldn’t work yourself to the bone.”
MC put their head down into their hands, trying to blunten the pain in their head. “But I need to.” They felt the stress getting into their head, seeping deep.
“You don’t need to-”
“YES I DO-” They had cut herself off with a sob. The pain, stress, work. It’s day in, day out torture that hurts. They took a breath, hiding their face with their hands away from Diavolo, “If I don’t, neither House will respect me nor my solution.” They tried taking more gasps of air, but it ended out as airy sobs. “Then I won’t be able to take a place by your side. My name is disgraced, but I won’t allow yours to be as well.”
Diavolo stood there, listening. He was silent, but heard them clearly. They needed to talk and he’s happy to listen. He kneeled in front of them, placing his hand on their knee. He squeezed their knee, comfortingly.
He only wished they’d brought this forward sooner.
“..What about this compromise? You go rest for now,” He held up a hand before they could interject, “and I’ll go over it myself at the end. This way, this will be your work, but pre-approved by me.”
MC pursed their lips. “...Wouldn’t that be more work for you?”
“If it’s your report, I know it’ll be interesting.” Diavolo laughed loudly.
At least the room wasn’t deafening anymore.
#obey me#om#obey me x mc#obey me x reader#obey me shall we date#obey me diavolo#obey me diavolo x mc#obey me diavolo x reader#obey me diavolo x you#lord diavolo#diavolo x mc#diavolo x reader#diavolo x y/n#obey me diavolo x gn!reader#obey me diavolo x gn!mc#obey me angst#obey me hurt/comfort#elise’s request
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From the Dining Table
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Author’s note: I feel like I should just leave the author’s note blank because there’s nothing I can do to make it better
Summary: “The love was there. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t save anyone. There were just too many forces against it. But it still matters that the love was there.” [4.5k]
Warnings: oh it’s so sad, mentions of bullying, hard conversations, goodbyes, June ruining everyone’s night yet again
Red Dirt Girl becomes the number one movie in America the first weekend it's in theatres. Box office numbers are insanely high, promising a high payout for everyone involved, and people are already talking about sweeping the competition during awards season. Peter sent flowers to your house to congratulate you, and you and Lilly are scheduled to do as much press together as possible before you leave for Ireland. It's the best-case scenario. So, why can't you let yourself feel good about it?
Instead of basking in your accomplishments and the pride you feel for this project or going out to celebrate on the clear Friday night that settled over LA, you're packing boxes. You're only taking the things you can't live without, but going through your stuff and deeming what you need and don't is exhausting. The rooms in your house feel especially empty as you silently walk around, thinking your way through the tasks. You consider calling Ryan or your mom to fill the eerie quiet but decide against it. You'll have to talk about Joel if you call either of them, and you don't think you're ready for that yet. So, you open your notes app and try to find the strength to do at least one thing on your list of boring, necessary things that need to get done.
Your to-do list feels never-ending and daunting every time you glance at it. You haven't even thought about finding another manager despite it being the most pressing issue besides your move. You'd been with Mel since you came to LA and thought she'd be your manager for at least another four or five years. She wasn't perfect, but she always made sure your name was being spoken in the important rooms and fought tooth and nail for you. She was ruthless on your behalf. She got you to where you are today. That's not nothing.
You sigh and pull your hair into a ponytail, debating on going through your books or closet, when a loud knock sounds from downstairs. To call it a knock is a little generous. It sounds like someone is pounding on your door, but you're not expecting anyone. You grab the baseball bat from your bedroom closet before walking down the stairs and approaching the front door. Your knuckles turn white around the grip as you peek through the peephole to see who could possibly be pounding on your door at nine pm. The second you figure out who it is, you drop the bat and scramble to open the door.
"Ellie?" You ask, cutting her off mid-raised fist. Her hair is in her face, and she's wearing her glasses, your porch light casting shadows over her eyes. A big backpack is slung over her big hoodie, and she looks distraught.
"My dad said I can still talk to you if I want. Is that true?" She asks breathlessly, and you look behind her to see if Joel or Sarah dropped her off but find nothing. You take a deep breath and nod.
"Come in," you say, opening the door wider for her to come in. She takes two long strides over your threshold and into your home while you wrack your brain about how to handle this. Is there a handbook out there for talking to your ex-boyfriend's daughter? "Please tell me you didn't ride your bike here."
"No, I took an Uber." She says nonchalantly as you follow her into your living room. You chuckle and turn to ask her if she wants water or a snack but stop yourself short when you finally get a look at her black eye.
"Oh, my God! What happened?"
"It's not a big deal." She says as you force her to sit at your dining table, put her backpack down, and carefully take her glasses off her face. She winces when you put your hand on her chin to turn her face so you can see her eye better. Under the glow of your kitchen lights, you find a swelling bruise on her jaw and a cut on her nose. How did you not see her injuries in the dark?
You rush around, gathering ice and a bandaid for her nose. She doesn't say anything as she sits there, looking pretty miserable, and your heart aches at the pout of her lips. You hand her an ice pack to hold to her head while you clean and bandage the cut across her nose. None of the bruises look especially scary, and despite a little blood staining her cheek, she's perfectly fine. You take out your phone flashlight and shine the light across her pupils, watching them dilate accordingly.
"Are you a nurse all of a sudden?" She asks, and you smile as you put your phone face down on the table in front of you.
"No, but I've played them enough on TV to know how to check for a concussion."
"Oh, is that the requirement?" She asks, and you hum. She fights a smile as she breaks eye contact with you to look down at her hands, which you notice are also bruised and cracked. "Dad told me you guys broke up." She says quietly. She looks so defeated with her slouched posture and nervous foot tapping. You know now is not a time to lie to her.
"Yeah, we did."
"Why?"
"It's complicated."
"That's exactly what Dad said," she says. The idea of you and Joel parroting each other from opposite sides of the city pulls all the air from you and leaves you floundering. "I'm not a kid. You can tell me what happened." And she's right. She's fourteen. She's old enough to understand how relationships work, but you don't know if it's your place to tell her what happened. You don't know what you're allowed to tell her. You don't know if you're overstepping or how to fix it if you are.
"Sometimes," you start uncertainly, hoping the words will find you along the way. "Sometimes, two people can really care about each other, but that doesn't mean they'll be together forever or even good for each other." You say, and she makes a face.
"That sucks."
"Yeah, it does," you sigh. "Now that I told you that, can you tell me why you're showing up at my doorstep at nine o'clock at night?" You change the subject, and she bites her bottom lip as her foot tapping speeds up.
"Dad and I got into a fight."
"Does it have anything to do with your shiner?" You ask, nodding in the direction of her black eye.
"He didn't even try to hear my side of the story!"
"Which is?" You ask, and she very quickly dives into a story of a kid who's been picking on her all year. She said she told Joel what was happening, and he said something about ignoring it or talking to the teacher, which wasn't working. Apparently, the kids' parents are some big-shot tech people the teachers don't like dealing with, so they were just gonna let him do whatever until the end of the school year. Today, he said something along the lines of Sarah's mom coming back and Ellie's mom never being able to.
"And I never even knew her! But that's still my fucking mom, and I know how sensitive Sarah is about Angela, and I just got so angry that I hit him. A lot." She says like she's waiting for you to argue with her, but you can't even imagine yelling at her after hearing that. You open your phone and open your notes app.
"What's your teacher's name?" You ask. She tells you, and you have to take several deep breaths to stop yourself from finding the teacher's phone number and calling him to ask him if he thinks it's acceptable for a student to taunt another student's dead mother. "I'll call the school on Monday, okay? That kind of behavior is disgusting, and you were justified in what you did." You say, grabbing her hand and squeezing. She nods and smiles softly as she looks at you, her dark brown eyes looking right through you.
"You know, I don't usually like most of the people my dad dates," she says. "But I really liked you." Her use of the past tense cuts deep inside you, and you swallow thickly.
"Yeah. I like you too," you smile. "But, just because your dad and I aren't together anymore doesn't mean we can't still hang out or talk. I still care about you and your sister, and I've got quite a few movies I still need to watch." You say, and she nods, but there's something sad in her movements. You wonder if Joel told the girls about Ireland and how they reacted. Even if he didn't, Ellie is smart. She sees the boxes in your living room and the stuff piled together. She knows something is happening. Something that will impede future movie nights and emergency visits in the middle of the night. She shifts in her seat and lets go of your hand to tug at her ponytail, effectively retracting from you.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Did you love my dad?" She asks, and you bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. You think about lying or just not answering her question altogether, but that's not fair. She opened up to you. She trusted you, and you know what it feels like to have that trust broken or not reciprocated. You stare into her eyes and try to not get emotional.
"Yeah, I did."
"Did you break up because of us?"
"Honey, no. No, not at all," you say, perching on the edge of your chair so your knees are touching. "Your dad and I... have very different lives and schedules, and we tried. We really, really tried, but I don't think the timing is right for us. I don't know if it'll ever be right for us, but you and your sister had nothing to do with why we broke up, okay?" You say, slouching a little to get in her eye line, and she nods. "When I found out about you guys, I wasn't scared or intimidated. I was excited because your dad only ever told me how beautiful, and brilliant, and amazing, and kind his daughters were, but when I met you, you exceeded all that. You and Sarah have become two of my favorite people on this planet, and there will never be a time when I don't cheer you guys on or want what's absolutely best for you. I mean, if I didn't like you, do you think I would've opened the door?" You ask, and she laughs. The sound makes you smile, and you put your hand on her knee.
"You, Ellie Miller, are going to do incredible things, and I can't wait to watch it."
"Thank you." She says softly, and you nod. There, in your kitchen, you share a quiet moment with Ellie where neither of you needs to say anything more. The love says everything you can't bring yourself to voice just yet. If you squint, you can imagine what her mother must've looked like. All big eyes and toothy grins and wavy hair. But even without any actual Miller DNA flowing through her veins, you see Joel, too. You see how he raises his eyebrows or can't hide what he's thinking to save his life. You see his smile. You see his kindness and anxiety. You see all the best parts of him. This time with her feels like a warm hug, as much as a goodbye. Nostalgic and sad and welcome all at the same time. You don't know when you'll be able to sit at a table with Ellie Miller and just stare at her again, but you know if you never see her again, you can count yourself lucky to have met such an amazing young woman. She must make her mom so proud.
"You know I have to call your dad to tell him you're here, right?" You ask quietly, and she nods. You sit there for another second before grabbing your phone and walking into the next room to call Joel. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at his contact information, a picture of him with his tongue out still set as his contact photo. You took it on Facetime when he was still in Texas. He was complaining about how his stomach hurt from eating too much barbeque, and he was pretending to be dead. Even after everything, it still makes you smile. You press the call button before you lose the courage to do so. He picks up on the second ring.
"Hey, I can't really talk right now. Ellie and I got into a fight, and she ran off, and I don't know what to do. Has she talked to you? Do you know where she might be?" He says quickly, sounding frantic as he shuffles with something on the other end.
"Yeah, she showed up on my doorstep about thirty minutes ago. She's fine. A little upset, but she's safe." You say and hear him sigh with relief.
"Thank God. Okay, I'm comin' to get her. Can you keep her there until I can get to your house?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," he says. Neither of you immediately ends the call, but you don't say anything either. You can hear him breathing and imagine him standing there, flush with worry, and grinding his teeth despite the number of times you've told him to stop. It's the closest you two have been in weeks. "I really fucked up." He finally says, and you take a breath.
"All the best parents do."
"Yeah?" He asks, that familiar lilt returning to his voice. Your heart squeezes, and you nod.
"Yeah. Reminds your kids that you're human too."
"I guess," he says. It's quiet for another five seconds before he clears his throat. "Thank you for takin' care of her."
"She's a good kid."
"Yeah, she is."
"I'll..." you start. You know you're talking in circles but don't want to get off the phone. He waits you out. "I'll see you soon." You finally say, and the phone moves against his ear.
"See you soon." He says, hesitating before ending the call. You exhale and stare at his contact photo for another second before locking your phone and walking back to the main living area. Ellie has moved from the dining room table to the couch, an old leather-bound book in her hands. You tilt your head to read the title. Much Ado About Nothing. One of your favorite Shakespeare plays that you never got to do. You perch on the edge of the couch near Ellie and smile when she puts her book down to look at you.
"That book looks older than you."
"That's 'cause it is. It was my dad's in high school." She says, and you look at her, confused.
"What?"
"Yeah. He said his music teacher bought it for him or something. Dad really liked him. Wrote his name down in the acknowledgments in his first album and everything." She shrugs like it's nothing. Suddenly, you're back in New York with Joel, his hand over your heart as he listens to you recite a centuries-old monologue.
"He told me he didn't study Shakespeare in school."
"He probably didn't want you to know he's a massive nerd. He loves it. He made us go to the Globe Theatre when we were in England. It was actually pretty cool," she yawns. "I'm tired. Can I go lay down in one of the beds until my dad gets here?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's fine. My room is up the stairs and to the left. I just got new pillows, so that'll probably be the most comfortable." You say, your brain still struggling to piece together what she just said. She yawns again and gives you a thumbs-up before standing with her book in hand and disappearing up the stairs.
Joel told you he didn't know anything about something you, apparently, both love. Why? Was he quizzing you? Was he trying to figure out if you actually know what you're talking about? Or was he trying to get another perspective? Did he pretend not to know so you could explain it to him in your own way? How the fuck did you not know? You want to call and ask him all these things, but you don't. You wait.
You rotate between anxiously pacing your living room, checking on Ellie (who's snoring in your bed with the book open next to her), organizing and reorganizing your stuff into boxes. Anything to keep your mind busy until Joel can get there. From the time you ended the call to when your front door opened and closed quietly, twenty minutes had passed, but it felt like a lifetime. Joel walks into the living room like it's his own house and smiles when he sees you, looking around the room for Ellie. He wearing his own glasses and a plain black shirt with jeans. The bags under his eyes are prominent, and his hair is messy. He looks exhausted.
"She went upstairs to lie down and fell asleep. I didn't want to wake her up." You answer his unspoken question, and he nods, his shoulders visibly dropping.
"No, that's okay. I'm glad she's gettin' some rest," he says, sighing deeply. "Did she tell you bout our fight?"
"A little bit, yeah," you say, and he grimaces. You glance between the place where you and Ellie were sitting and him. "Do you wanna sit?" You ask, and he nods. Carefully, without even grazing each other, you sit across from him and stare at him. You don't know what you're supposed to say. You don't know if you're supposed to say anything.
"You still doin' that movie with Pike?" He beats you to it, and you nod. There's no frustration or anger in his question, only curiosity.
"I leave for Ireland in two weeks."
"Ireland's beautiful."
"It is." You say, not sure how else to respond. He shifts in his seat and looks at his hands as he nervously taps a rhythm into your table.
"Thank you again for takin' her in and makin' sure she was safe. I really appreciate it." He says.
"I'm just happy she knew she could come here."
"Me too," he says. "Can we... do you wanna... I just need to say I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but I did, and I'm sorry. I should've been better and more honest and less of a dick. You didn't deserve that." He word vomits, and your fingers twitch to reach for his. You take a deep breath and stare at him, watching his emotions play out behind his glasses.
"Thank you for apologizing," you say. "And I'm sorry, too. For everything. I wish things could be different."
"We could start over. Maybe try again," he says, his voice sad like he's trying, but he knows your answer won't change. "I don't... I don't know how to do this. But I wanna learn. I wanna learn for you." His words cut straight through to your heart, and your eyes flutter shut. You pinch the inside of your thigh to stop tears from forming, and take a shaky breath. He doesn't rush you. When you open your eyes, he's staring at you like you hung the moon and the stars.
"Sarah's gonna need you as she figures her mom out. It's gonna be hard, and she loves you more than I've ever seen a teenage girl love her dad. Ellie's gonna feel out of place, and she's gonna need you too. It wouldn't be fair to any of you to add this," you gesture between the two of you. "To that mix. It'd be too much. None of us would feel good about it. We'd all walk away a little burned and lot pissed off. I don't want that for us." You say, and he nods.
"It's a nice dream." He says sadly.
"It is," you agree. "Can I ask you a question?"
"'Course."
"When did it stop being fake for you?" You ask. He shakes his head, and his Adam's apple bobs.
"It was never fake for me. It just took me a little longer to figure out," he says, and you pinch your thigh again. "What bout you?"
"Texas," you admit, only a little ashamed at how late your answer is in comparison. "When you called me every day from Texas. That's when it stopped being fake for me," a tear spills from your eye, and Joel wipes it away before you can. His thumb is warm and familiar, and you almost lean into his touch before it can disappear completely. "This sucks."
"Yeah, it does."
"Do I, at least, get to know what songs on the newest album are about me?" You joke, and he laughs. He presses his lips together and rests his head on his hand as he looks at you.
"All of 'em," he says. "All of 'em are about you. Bout meetin' you or the way you talk in your sleep, but a lot of 'em are about New York."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"That was a good time," you say. "Ellie, um... Ellie told me about your trip to the Globe Theatre. Told me all about how much her dad loves Shakespeare," he chuckles like a kid caught with candy, and you smile. "Why'd you tell me you didn't know anything about it?"
"I don't know," he shrugs. "I really don't. I was thinkin' bout it the other day, and I just remembered seein' how much you loved it. Your eyes got real wide, and you got so excited, and I just... wanted to hear you talk about it. I think I would've stayed there with you all day if I could've." He says. You have to look away from him to hide to tears pooling in your eyes.
This shouldn't be this hard. You're supposed to meet someone you love, and nothing else matters, and you get to be with that person forever. It's hard, but you get your whole lives to figure it out together. Who did you hurt in a past life that took this opportunity away? It's not fair. You want to rip the sky apart and scream at God and demand an explanation. You want someone to blame. You want more time. You want him, and not just the good parts that made you fall in love with him. You want the broken and ridged parts he's still hiding from you. You want the parts he hates. You want to lay them out on the table and show him you don't flinch when they catch the light.
He puts his hand on your shoulder as tears fall from your eyes, and you sniffle. His thumb presses soothingly into your skin, and you let him. You shouldn't, but you do. You don't fall into his arms and sob like you want to. No, just like every juncture of your life thus far, you let yourself cry quietly and without fuss because there are things to do. And when you're done, you turn to look at him and see tears staining his cheeks too. You cover his hand with yours and squeeze his fingers, and he takes a deep breath.
"What are we gonna do now?" He asks. You pull his hand off your shoulder and hold it in your lap, both your hands covering his large one. You smile through your tears and kiss the top of his hand.
"I'm gonna go to Ireland, and you're gonna release your album. It'll hit the top of the charts overnight, and people will be singing your praises from the rooftops and speculating on what different songs mean like they always do. I'll lie in interviews and say I haven't listened to it, but I will because it'll be yours. You and the girls and Tommy'll go on tour, and I'll be there filming, and we'll try to talk when we can, but our schedules will get in the way until we don't think about each other all the time. I'll probably lose my mind because it rains so much in Ireland, and you'll go from selling out stadiums to crying at Sarah's graduation. And we'll both work way more than we should. And life'll go on like we were never really here," you say. "And maybe one day, when we're in LA at the same time, and nothing is stopping us and our schedules align, we'll get a coffee. And we'll talk. And we'll try again." You wipe Joel's tears away and try to keep yourself from falling apart.
"I'll mark it on my calendar." He says, and you laugh. You squeeze his hand and nod.
"I'm counting on it, Miller."
You sit there for a few more minutes before you stand and hug him. It's quick. It has to be, but it's enough to settle your heart for a moment. Joel goes upstairs, scoops Ellie in his arms, and carefully carries her out to his car. He buckles her in and turns on the air conditioning so she doesn't get too hot in the California night. You stand outside, watching him be a dad, with your arms crossed over your chest. He shuts the door quietly and walks over to you.
"I hope you have a lot of fun in Ireland." He says sincerely.
"Thank you," you say. "I hope you have a great tour."
"Thanks," he nods. He looks over his shoulder to check on Ellie in the passenger seat before turning back to you. "I should get her home. She's had a long day."
"Of course."
"I'll, uh... I'll see you around, okay?" He asks, and your heart jumps to your throat.
"I'll see you around, Joel." With that, he walks to the driver's side door, and you walk back toward your house, the space between you growing and growing as you get further away. Your chest hurts, and you know you're gonna go inside to cry some more, but you don't turn around. Not until he calls your name.
"I love you," he says from where he's standing in front of his truck. "And I don't expect you to say anything or change your mind, but I wanted you to know. I love you." Your hands are shaking, and your throat feels like it's tightening, but you manage to give him a weak smile.
"I love you, too."
And then, he gets in his car and drives away with his daughter in the front seat. You go back to your empty house and your piles of stuff, and you cry, and in the back of your mind, you think, if I never speak to Joel Miller again, I think that's okay. I think it has to be.
#one for the money two for the show#rockstar!joel#the last of us#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#the last of us x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller the last of us#tlou au#the last of us au#I can’t believe I forgot my tags
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Low Days
I’ve changed my format and things around cause I like it better that way :D
I think I’ll keep this font for different One Shots like this and keep the normal one for Halstead sister one shots.
I think I’ll be able to finish the day I start it as well. And sorry if there’s horrible grammar I wrote this on my phone😭
Word count:
Summary: Your Matt’s sister and There’s a hostage situation in the hosue
Warnings: Guns, Hostage situation, mentions of Hospitals, Mentions of death, seizures Small Cursing ~and I think that’s all~
—————-———————————————————
Ever since you were young your older brother Matt has looked after you, along with the rest of the people at 51.
You never really minded staying at the house most of the day. Whenever you weren’t at school you were there and whenever you got off of school you were there.
Everyone spoiled you most of the time. Violet, Stella and Sylvie made sure to spend some girl time with you. Either going out for milkshakes or just talking about drama in or school or boys .And the others spent some time with you and they all were special to you in their own way.
Whenever the truck was gone Kelly, Herman or boden would watch you. If everyone had to go then they would take you with them and you would wait in the engine.
“Y/n have you done your homework?” Your brother said. “Yeah I emailed my teacher that I finished it.” You were gone for about a week due to being sick. It was late October and of course it’s flu season so you were bound to get it.
Just then Matt’s phone went off. “Hey y/n go get something to eat or drink your sugar is low” your brother said as his phone lit up with a notification. Yeah you had type 1 diabetes, you got diagnosed at 10 after your sugar had dropped dramatically while everyone was on call and they had found you in the truck practically life less.
“Alright I’ll be right back-“ About 10 guys barged into the station holding guns screaming at everyone who was in their sight.
“EVERYBODY DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW. GET RID PF EVERYTHING, PHONES, WATCHES,ANYTHING YOU HAVE IN YOUR POCKETS” one of guys he looked like the leader.
Matt dragged you to the ground and pushed you towards everyone else who was in the main area where the trucks were ~idk what it’s called~
“Hey you put give me your phone now.” One of the guys spat at you. You shook your head in fear. Before he could lunge at you Kelly got in front of you. “She has diabetes she needs her phone.” Kelly spoke. “Diabetes are the least of her worries now. Hand it over.” Kelly and Matt gave you a look. You slid your phone across the floor. Matt read your face and could see that you were worried. “I promise I’ll your glucose meter” Matt reassured you.
***
4 hours, you add the crew have been held hostage for 4 hours now. CPD has been trying to talk to the leader of this and he was finally arrested . The last number your blood sugar had been at was. 58 and you could tell it was dropping.
“Y/n I need you to stay awake for a little bit longer, okay?” Matt cooed. “Just a small nap” you leaned onto Kelly’s shoulder sleep pulling you in.
Sylvie had ran to your to your drawer that was in the office that contained all of your stuff and grabbed your glucagon and ran back to you.
“What’s her number?” Sylvie asked while opening the bright Red box. Kelly read your phone screen. “29 and it’s dropping.”
“Hey Y/n, I’m gonna test you alright?” Sylvie says. Before she could even test you, you started pulling away.
“She’s having a seizure, roll her on her side, Stella go get nasal spray from the cabinet inside the rig” Sylvie spoke fast and Stella nodded and ran quickly.
“You’re okay Y/n, you’re okay” Matt said.
“Does she need to go the hospital?” Jay walked over to everyone. “No, not unless her blood sugar goes down to where I can’t control it. Stella returned with the nasal spray and Sylvie sprayed it into your nose.
As you stopped seizing, Matt immediately went by your side “see you’re all good now, we’re gonna make you feel better, then we can go wherever you like you just have to stay with me” Matt said as he rubbed your back.
“Truck 81, Ambo 16. Reports of child stuck on roof”
“Go, I’ll watch after her with them” Jay was like your brother, whenever you couldn’t make it to the station after school because it was snowing or too cold, you would be at the district and hang out with everyone there. Jay would make sure he would give you food, get your homework done, and would make sure your sugar didn’t get to low or high”
Matt have instructions right beofre he wa about to leave “If her sugar drops to 50 or below again after giving her the Glucagon take her-“ “to the hospital and she has another seizure take her to the hospital and keep her in her side. I know the drill man, I got her” Jay had been through this about Three or two times. “Thanks Jay”
***
Your eyes flutter open but you shut them again because of the bright lights overhead. You soon adjusted to the light and realized you were on the couch in the break room. You looked around and saw Herman, Kelly and Jay talking together. What the hell happened?
“What the hell happened, where is everyone” You muttered. The three men immediately turned to you
“First of all language, second, your blood sugar dropped while we were in the whole hostage situation and you had a seizure” Kelly spoke
“What was it at?” You cried “29 was last I knew of” Jay picked his phone to see what your number were at now. “Atleast I got a new record” you dorsally celebrate. “I can see your humor hasn’t gone away” Herman laughed.
“Where’s Matt” Matt was usually with you after you had a low and you felt exhausted afterwards. “He’s on a call now everyone else should be back soon since it was something small”
“Can I have like pretzels or something I’m really hungry”You begged “you know the drill y/n you have to have something sweet that’s a drink or a snack.” Jay pointed out. “well can I have Gatorade?” Gatorade was your all time favorite when you were low. “we’re out of Gatorade, since we didn’t go grocery shopping last week. But you can have apple juice” Kelly compromised“well not my favorite but I’ll take it”You shrugged
Kelly walks over to the fridge and retrieves your juice and hands to you. “I almost just died can someone help me open this”
“First of all, don’t say that because of a Matt was around he would freak and yes we’ll help you open it.” Jay laughs as he takes the box from you.
“I’m gonna take a nap, I’m exhausted from today” You pulled the blanket you had on closer. “Wake me if someone brings me food,I love food”
“Yes princess Y/n”
Surprise y’all I posted, apologies for not posting last month. Now I can get onto requests and my other one shot that only need about 200 more words and it’ll post.
Thank you so much for read and I love y’all
-Lia
#chicago pd#halstead brothers#jay halstead#chicago#halstead sister#x reader#hospital mention tw#one chicago#will halstead#chicago med#chicago fire#illinois
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Filed Under: Work Orders
Words: 1,099
Summary: You're the best mechanic the GAR has, but sometimes that means that you're flooded with requests for repairs that are clearly not from combat, or at least not entirely from combat.
or alternatively: a collection of messages on your answering machine, that go a long way as evidence to support the argument that you deserved a raise.
Note: another work to add to filed under: the series! apparently i can only write a fic like this once every six months or so lol
ao3 link || clone troopers masterlist
A loud clang echoed through the room as you dropped your bag of tools on the floor, eyes bleary from waking up far too early. Long hours at unusual times were a given when you worked for the GAR, but that didn’t mean you ever really got used to it, even after the three days off you had just enjoyed. At least the work bays were quiet at this time of day, and you usually didn’t have to do much interacting with others until it was time for people to pick up their finished equipment. Droids would collect and deliver the ships and other apparatuses that needed fixing, and work orders were usually received through your datapad.
Sitting down at the slightly scratched chair at your desk, you saw the light on your communicator blinking, indicating that you had a few messages to listen to. Your office communicator was on a pathway that could be reached through simply contacting the main number for the GAR and pressing the correct buttons, but it wasn’t as common to see work orders being requested here rather than through your datapad. After the caf machine began to work its magic and you had a steaming mug of caffeine in front of you, it was time to see what was on your schedule for today.
you have *:･✧ eight ✧ ･:* new messages
“Hey, this is General Anakin Skywalker calling for the best mechanic in the galaxy!”
You paused the message and sighed, knowing that meant he needed something from you. And based on his overly chipper tone, the repairs would be intensive.
“I got the message from your datapad that you’re off for a few days, but when you get back I need a favor. It’s just a few dents and a broken blaster cannon, don’t worry too much, but we’ll be on Coruscant for a few rotations and I just wanted to see what you could do. Rex has sent an official work order to your datapad, just send a message to the Jedi Temple when it’s ready.”
*:･✧ ✧ ･:*
“What exactly am I supposed to say again?”
“Well, starting with your name would probably be a good idea.”
“Yeah that’s good.”
“And explaining that this needs to be done secretly, because Cody would kill us if he found out.”
“Definitely. Hi, my name is Boil and-”
“Wait, you were already on the call?”
“You watched me dial!”
Click.
After that played, you checked your datapad to see a communication that seemed to match the situation, and you just laughed at the plea to maintain complete secrecy.
*:･✧ ✧ ･:*
The next message started with a shout from the background.
“It’s kriffing COLD in here!”
“Be quiet Crosshair! I’m leaving a message for the repair department now.”
“It’s still going to be three rotations before we even get to Coruscant. We’ll be blocks of ice by then!”
Another voice called out from the background.
“Go look for some blankets and let Tech leave the communication message in peace!”
“Fine.”
“As you can probably tell, we’re calling because there’s an issue with our ship’s heating system. It’s an Omicron-class attack shuttle, and I believe that there must be some kind of slight leak preventing the heat from kicking in. More details will be sent with the droid when we drop off the ship.”
*:･✧ ✧ ･:*
“Hello, this is Sergeant Hound calling from the Coruscant Guard, I wanted to let you know that we’ll be dropping off one of the battalion’s speeder bikes within the next day or two. It’ll look really bad, so if you have to scrap it completely that should be fine, just don’t tell Fox. I crashed it when I saw a cute massif on the street and completely flew into a wall, but if anyone else asks, there was a accident on the lower levels and it was too dark to see anything when I was chasing down a death stick dealer.”
*:･✧ ✧ ･:*
“Now who are you calling?”
“Shhh, Fives, I’m on the phone with the maintenance number. If they can fix the general’s ships when he crashes them, this can’t be that big of a deal.”
“How are you going to explain the completely fried control board? Kix told us already that the GAR’s funneling all their money into new clones and can’t afford to replace landspeeders.”
“I’ll tell the truth, that it’s been acting strangely.”
“Yeah, after you spilled spotmelon juice all over it!”
“You were the one that knocked over the canteen!”
“Maybe we can blame it on the general, he’s already bringing his fighter down there after that last battle.”
“Yeah, maybe if we crash it into something first.”
*:･✧ ✧ ･:*
“Why did you call the GAR’s main line? I don’t think the people in payroll and budgeting will be able to help until we get the damage under control.”
“This is the maintenance department. Jesse says there’s someone there that fixes things all the time for them, like that time when Hardcase built a bomb in the Resolute’s refresher.”
“Sinker, that’s what you did!”
“No!”
“Maybe it’s not in the refresher, but-”
“I built a bomb out of the caf machine, it’s a completely different situation. And mine was accidental, I don’t think you can say the same thing about the 501st!”
Your mind wandered from the message as it was still being played from your machine, mentally making a note to get out all the safety equipment you thought you might need. If this is anything like the situation that was just referenced, you were going to need some high quality supplies.
*:･✧ ✧ ･:*
“Hi, my name is General Obi-Wan Kenobi. I know that General Skywalker is going to be dropping off a starship for you to take a look at within the next few rotations, and I wanted to ask if you had a moment to check over my ship too? I don’t know what Anakin has told you, but I’d be willing to bet that he undersold how bad it was. Look, don’t tell him that I told you, but I wouldn’t be surprised when it comes in totaled. I’m surprised he was even able to land that smoking heap of transparisteel. That aside, if you have time to look at mine just let me know, there’s nothing really specific I’m looking to fix but I would prefer to know if something was wrong before the next high stress situation. Thank you!”
you have *:･✧ zero ✧ ･:* new messages
You sighed, taking a huge sip from the caf in your hands and getting up from your desk. It looks like you had a lot of work to do.
- the end -
i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!
divider credit to djarrex - reblogged here
#filed under: the series#clone wars fanfiction#anakin skywalker#clone trooper waxer#clone trooper boil#tbb crosshair#tbb hunter#tbb tech#sergeant hound#arc trooper fives#arc trooper jesse#clone trooper sinker#clone trooper boost#obi wan kenobi#the clone wars#star wars fanfiction
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Uh-Oh
The human formerly known as Davce (The Human), currently running under the moniker of Phalanges Mittens, who was, for staffing purposes a two-meter-tall marsupial lizard of no particular gender paused and took a step back to look at the hardware that was causing issues.
Phalanges looked over at the equipment cart, repurposed to be the office of Cat Fantastic, a small, iguana-sized Atrix, and technically Phalanges spouse adjacent partner.
"Doing OK, Cat?" he asked and got a cheery "Graak" back.
Garfield, an actual Atrix looked amused and asked her little guy the same. "Doing Ok, Un-Named?" and got a "Grak?" from her natural pouch where her little guy was riding.
"Nobody asks me if I'm OK." said Dave The Human, an Adult female Tsin.
"Should have got yourself a Little Guy." Garfield told her good buddy cheerfully.
"Ugh. They're too big to fit in a pocket and besides my pet rat would get jealous." Dave stated, and checked, for the twentieth time, the schematics of the lump of scheming machinery.
"What about that dude who nearly ate number 43?" suggested Phalanges, shining a light behind the input pipes.
Dave tried to recall them "Oh yeah... nah, they're nice but a bit thirsty. I'm not planning on a family yet." she said. "I need someone who's less desperate to..." she looked around at the other four all of whom were legally Atrix, the least sexually oriented species known to breathe oxygen.
Even Phalanges, who's genetically human had never shown any interest in sex. "... less desperate." she said. "But I think I need someone who gets me on a more... Tsin level? No offence"
Everyone paused to consider this, apart from Un-Named Male who was asleep again.
Dave was a Big Female: The klunky translation of a concept for the Tsin gender of "The most female type of female", which culturally also carried the suggestion of being the sort of person who's in charge of everyone else: "She who shouts at everyone to clean their claws".
Tsin have at least four main genders. At least one gender is capable of swapping naturally. Dave's at the far end of the Tsin gender spectrum, biologically at least, and interpersonal relationships are complex when one's bestie girl-friend might spend too much time hanging out with you and accidentally swap to male.
On the other hand (of which, Dave has four) Dave's picked a male name from a species that has two broad categories for biological genders and still managed to make things weird.
Everyone took a moment to consider this as they stared at the hardware giving them issues.
The Waste Organic Matter/Biologicals from Living Environments Recycling unit was supposed to scavenge through any organic matter that ordinary people left behind, and crack the compounds down into base blocks that could then be used to build up any other chemicals or compounds via one of the bio-reactors. Soap for example.
On a space station, this sort stuff is considered useful, since nobody wants to be hip deep in garbage and leftover food.
"We need this thing's full name." said Phalanges thoughtfully.
"Wot?" said Dave and Garf did the rippling colour display that was equivalent.
"It's human hardware. It runs on human rules, so if we knew it's full name I could call it out and it'd know it was in trouble."
Dave and Garfield, who both had degrees in Human Stuff gave each other some pretty hilarious side eye.
Phalanges pulled up the pitch shifter for the rarely used translator, and said "Squeap sqk qk sqwp, what do you think you're doing?"
Dave, startled by the use of her real, full name dropped her tablet and cringed, scales all folding flat, and her big hands coming up over her head as she pulled her small hands out of her front pocket and covered her muzzle.
Garf stared in amusement, cheeks and forehead rippling opalescently. Cat Fantastic peered from the little office that Dave and Phalanges had built him. "Graak?"
"No it's not sorcery." said Phalanges.
"Could have fooled me." muttered Dave. "Gods of the place, I see what you mean. Don't do it again, I'd have to murder you and not eat you." she muttered shaking her scales back out and patting the air down one handed to show it was meant lightly.
"Graaaaak?" asked Cat.
"Tsin eat people they like or admire, if they can, when they die. It's respectful." explained Phalanges distractedly.
"'S right." agreed Dave. "For example I wouldn't take a single bite of this squeap machine."
Meanwhile Un-Named Male who'd been disturbed form his nap, reached out unseen by anyone but Garf and pointed at the fuse panel: The fuses were fine but the wiring harness connector had been pulled half out.
Garf looked around and pushed it back with a surreptitious claw...
"I have an idea." she announced.
Garf picked up Dave's Tablet and looked at it. Then she planted herself in front of it, crossed her arms, and said:
"Waste Organic Matter/Biologicals from Living Environments unit model Zero Romeo Indigo November Zero Charlie Oscar, serial number... five dash two dash one nine seven three, what do you think you're doing? We were relying on you to do your job. You need to take responsibility for your role on this station! I'm not angry, I'm just very disappointed"
And then clicked the reset button.
She stood there with Un-named Male's nose hanging out of her pouch, Phalanges, Dave and Cat staring in surprise: Of course the recycler clicked and powered up.
"Good." declared Garfield, who passed Dave his tablet back and grabbed her tool bag. "I'm on break!" she called as she swaggered off.
"How the hell did she...?" said Phalanges, and Dave shrugged.
"I guess it really does run on human rules." she said.
#Tsin#Atrix#Dave the Human#Phalanges Mitten#Cat Fantastic#Station Stories#Humans being weird little guys#humans are space orcs#when you see it...
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fic stats meme
tagged by no one
rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.
the most hits
Can I Borrow and Egg? (44,175 words) E
“Can I help you?” Derek really didn’t want to open the door, but the smell of the person on the other side was intriguing and he needed to know who it belonged to.
“Um sorry to bother you, but um do have an egg I can borrow” The guy was wearing fuzzy batman pajama pants and a red zip-up sweater zipped only halfway with no shirt underneath like he just threw it on to walk over here.
“Borrow?” Derek raised an eyebrow “Do you plan to return it?” he was trying really hard not to look at the small patch of chest hair that he desperately wanted to touch.
“Well no, I plan on buying more eggs when I get my Jeep working again then I’ll return an egg to you, not the exact one”
“Derek give the poor kid an egg” Laura yelled from inside the house
“I’m an adult” The guy called back “Not a kid”
second most kudos
Passing Notes (7,577 words) E
“And Stiles, as for the paper due next week, I don’t need to know about circumcision”
“Got it”
Stiles was going to have to drop that class now, even though, yes he did take it because he was bored and needed another credit and Professor Hale was one of the best-looking people he has ever seen, especially when he was wearing his black-rimmed glasses, and the way his long sleeves shirts were cuffed right below his elbow, “Enough of that” Stiles mumbled to himself after running into a plastic trash bin and almost falling over.
third most comments
"I didn’t know it was possible to fall in love with someone without even seeing their face" (33,755 words) E
Stiles didn’t like answering unknown numbers but he was bored and hoping to mess with a scammer. Turns out it was a wrong number, but he felt bad for the guy so we helped him with his computer.
He thought that was the end of it, but it turned into one of the best years of his life.
fourth most bookmarks
Coffee & Camo (17,219 words) E
Stiles owns a coffee shop and has a crush on his regular customer. but then the customer stops coming in and Stiles has no idea what happened until he gets a letter in the mail from Sergeant Derek Hale.
fifth most words
Trying to See Through the Rain Coming Down (32,376 words) E
“I need to file a missing person report”
“Okay” Stiles didn’t look up from his book, just grabbed one of the papers off the shelf behind him and handed to the man “Fill this out and I’ll get an officer to come out and talk to you”
“You’re not even going to look up? My sister is missing and you’re just going to keep reading your stupid book” he yanked the book out of Stiles’ hand and threw it across the precinct almost hitting the Sheriff who had come out of his office to see what the yelling was about.
“Sorry” Stiles stood up “It’s just that”
“Can I help you?” His dad asked trying to diffuse the situation before Stiles was the next thing thrown across the room
“I’m in town visiting my sister and she went to the grocery store Friday afternoon and never came back, she isn’t answering her phone and I can’t find her anywhere”
Or the one where Laura dies and Derek is left to take care of her twins with the help of an officer and a newly bitten werewolf.
fic with the least words
Donuts (1,552 words) E
Stiles got an idea while out getting his morning coffee.
tagging: @theinternetisfulloftrash, @just-another-busy-fangirl @7thleveldown, @evanesdust, @phantomlove908, @theboboshow @teacupghost5
and anyone who wants to share
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Broken World: Chapter Six
Next Morning
I helped anyone who needed help the next morning. I took notice right away that the women did most of it. The cooking and washing of clothes, taking care of the kids, was all the women's responsibility. I helped take the clothes down to the lake to be washed and was about to help wash them when Shane called for me. "Hey, yn!" I smiled at Andrea and excused myself to go over and see what he wanted.
"Wanna come with me to do a sweep?" He asked. I raised an eyebrow in question. "A sweep? Of the perimeter?" He nodded his head. "Yeah, just to make sure there aren't any walkers roaming around. Makes everyone feel safer." I hummed and looked back at the women behind me, washing clothes, talking and laughing together. I wasn't much for girl talk or being in groups. When I looked back at Shane, he averted his eyes right away and cleared his throat.
"No. I'm going to stay here and help those women over there since none of you men seem to know how to wash your own fucking clothes. That's the role here, right? Women do all the work while the men sit on their asses." I saw his jaw tick and his curled into fists. "Is that everything Office Walsh?" I looked him in the eye, daring him to say something. He just sniffed, turned around, and walked back up the bank to the camp.
Later on in the day, after I helped the girls with the wash and got to know them more, he stopped me and asked if we could talk. I agreed and followed him to where the cars were sitting. "I want to apologize if we have given you a bad impression of us. Look, the women here don't know how to protect themselves. They don't know how to shoot a gun. Andrea acts like she does, but she doesn't know how to properly use the gun she has. They rely on us to protect them. Me, Dale, Jim, Morales, and two who are out hunting are the ones who know how to properly use a gun."
"So why don't you teach them how to protect themselves?" I asked. "They're too scared. They know if they do get into trouble that they need to go for the head. When they go out into the woods, they know to stay in the perimeter we set and to carry a knife at least. Someone is always keeping watch at all times."
I hummed, "Well, they should still be taught how to protect themselves a little better. But you're the boss so…" I pushed past him and back up to the camp to help get dinner cooking. It wasn't that late in the day, maybe only three or so, but it took a while to gather fresh ingredients, stuff that was safe to eat that we found in the forest. And then the fact we had to cook on an open fire and the number of people we had to feed, it would take a while until it was done.
I was sitting talking to Amy, she was a little younger than I was, she had just graduated college when everything happened. Her and Andrea were going on a road trip to have some sister time together when Dale found them on the side of the road. Their car had broken down on the side of the road when Dale came along and saved them from a group of walkers.
Everyone stopped what they were doing when there was a sudden rustling in the woods. The kids stopped playing, running to their mothers, and hiding behind them. I stood up from where I had been sitting and looked over at Shane. He had his shotgun in hand, and I pulled my own gun from the holster on my belt. More rustling came before two people, men, walked out carrying a string of squirrels each. My jaw dropped at who I was looking at.
"Holy shit! Would you look at that little brother, it's the bitch who put me behind bars!" I looked at Merle fucking Dixon with a glare. Everyone had backed up into a group and watched us. "Merle, I see you're still alive. I thought you would have overdosed by now or gotten yourself killed." He walked towards me and as he did I caught Daryl's eye. He looked at me with shock before it turned into hatred. Merle got in my face, "you little cunt, I outta kill you!" I pushed him back, "back off Merle."
"Or what…" he looked down at my badge and scoffed. "Detective." He turned to Daryl and scoffed out a laugh. "You believe this, little brother? Your little girlfriend here is a detective now." He turned to look at Daryl, but he had walked away to start on the squirrels he had. Merle turned back to me. He went to poke a finger in my chest, but I grabbed his wrist, twisted it behind his back, and kicked the back of his knees, making him drop to the ground.
"If you ever try to put your hands on me again, Dixon, I will not be afraid to feed you to the fucking walkers. Honestly, I'm surprised these nice people have agreed to let you join their group. I'm sure by now they all know what a racist, sexist, drug addict scumbag. Do they know that you were a suspect in a murder case? Hmm?" I looked at the group, the woman had shocked looks on their faces, pushing the children further behind them.
"Do maybe the charges of sexual assault, public indecency, armed robbery, car theft, drug, and DUI charges you have? No? Yeah, I didn't think so. I'm sure they know you're an asshole, but I don't know what kind of person you really are." He tried to get out of my hold, and I twisted his arm more. "They let you in because you have the skills to hunt, which means that helps fee's people. But I'm not afraid to bet that your plan when you came by these nice people was to rob them blind overnight." I let go of him, pushing him forward into the dirt.
Shane looked at me with his brows raised, "You will know each other?" He asked. "You could say that, yeah. We all lived in the same town. Haven't seen them in years, though. The Dixon family doesn't have a good reputation. They were really tight with the police in town. Isn't that right, Daryl?! I'm just some pig!" Did I have a lot of hate and hurt in my heart right now at Daryl cutting me off the way he did? Yes. One hundred percent absolutely yes!
#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl dixon#the walking dead fic#the walking dead daryl#twd fanfiction#twd fic#twd#twd x reader#twd tdog#twd andrea#dale horvath#carol petelier#sophia peletier#rick grimes#carl grimes#lori grimes#shane walsh#glenn rhee#maggie greene#beth greene#hershel greene#merle dixon#michonne
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