#my family already makes me believe it was my fault I didn’t need this today I just I can’t fuck up this job I can’t
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Rant
#i fucked up at work#like I know my boss was pissed because I had to take a week off because of Corona but like it’s the end of the month and we are swamped with#work and I made a mistake with my calculations and no one noticed until I high off my mind at 8 am bc of medicine#told her and she was pissed and I understand it’s my fault like I shouldn’t have made my calculations that way without consulting her and I#had a panic attack and nearly bawled#and then now one of my coworkers calls me to check up on me bless her heart and she said she heard our boss call me and how angry she was#and she said it was no an excuse for her because it was wrong for her to belite me on the phone but like#I wish she hadn’t told me that? bc now I know my boss was angry the whole day and probably told the other coworkers or#get angry with them and I cannot help but feel guilty and cry and get anxiety attacks all over again because I can’t fuck yo this job#i need this job I like this job I get PAID as I deserve and I can’t lose that I can’t go back to earn 5 dollars every two hours I can’t#i can’t lose this job and I can’t stop hyperventilating and it’s my fault and I don’t know what to do I just can’t concentrate on anything#it’s not my fault I got covid it’s not I wear my mask always I barely take it off to drink water but I still got it and it’s not my fault#my family already makes me believe it was my fault I didn’t need this today I just I can’t fuck up this job I can’t
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Steddie Notes BONUS PART
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)
Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).
The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.
March 28, 1986
God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe.
You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault.
I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.
Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you.
March 29, 1986
Hey Eds
You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.
I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.
You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up.
Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.
March 30, 1986
Made it through a second night, babe.
I hope you wake up soon.
Miss you like crazy.
I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time.
The thing is.
The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this.
And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?
I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together.
Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.
March 31, 1986
You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers.
Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.
April 7, 1987
I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
September 18, 2015
It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.
Still pisses him off, though.
Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover.
He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.
Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.
What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:
“I fucking hate this class.”
“Tell me about it.”
“trig. You?”
“Algebra 2 :(”
A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.
“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”
“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”
“What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?”
“If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.”
“Eddie…I think I really like you
You’re my favorite person in the entire world
Some days you’re the only thing I can think about
I want to wake up in bed with you everyday
I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you
Do you like me? Yes or No”
“What are you doing about Hellfire?”
“Huh?”
“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”
“He made his choice.”
“You ever been in love?”
No, but I think I’m falling”
“I love you, Eddie”
All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.
There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad.
Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.
Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead.
In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:
“Eddie,
Will you marry me?”
“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor.
He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.
“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?”
Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”
Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”
Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”
Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol.
They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”
Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.”
“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.
“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”
“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”
“Where we going?”
“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”
“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”
“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.”
Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.
“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.”
He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.
"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."
Edited: check out the full version on ao3!
This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜
@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro
@fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr0 @yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcann @charlies-candid-corner@perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace
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@trainchomp @anaibis
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie notes#THE END#the last part#epilogue#note passing#first anniversary#steve writes to eddie in the hospital#adult steddie#proposal#they're dads#they have twins#max was their surrogate#fluff#domestic fluff#future steddie#steve makes eddie a scrapbook of their relationship#romance#happily ever after#the own the hideout#and steve is a middle school guidance counselor
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'Maid' in Heaven | Hiccup x Reader | Part 6
Pairings: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x fem!servant!reader
Chapter Content/Warnings: minor angst and fluff
Summary: After a hostile raid from The Hairy Hooligan Tribe, you were captured and forced into indentured servitude at a young age. Luckily, the God’s had blessed you to be the household thrall of the Haddock family; to serve your kind young Lord, Hiccup ‘Horrendous’ Haddock III. Oh Thor, what to do?
an: thank you for waiting! unfortunately, due to linking my ao3 on my master post, tumblr has hid all the linked parts before this + my masterlist (sad face). please click on the 'maid in heaven' tag for previous chapters, or view the pinned masterlist post on my blog.
again, thank you to anyone whose taken the time to read, comment, like, and reblog! they make me so happy and motivated. any love is much appreciated.
There was a great discussion had within the Haddock residence later that evening. Supper was served at the single table, near to the crackling fire, and blazing with conversation about various topics. The first one attended to was the matter related to the unmissed trial of your questionable innocence. From the guilt that hung like a grey cloud above your head, Stoick sought to investigate the actual truth of the matter.
Hiccup spoke on your behalf. There were some truths, possible half-truths, and perhaps a frilly white lie in between. Whether Stoick believed the lipped wit of his son or not made no difference. The Chief’s admonishing response showed a mind already made. And the folk lesson long prevailed: it paid very little to argue with stone.
“I can’t have any more mishaps, regardless of whose fault,” Stoick said with a fistful of torn meat. “Our people are on edge, and for well enough reasons. And I’m not about to let one loose sheep, or another, cause further unrest. Do you both understand?”
From your standing spot at the end of the table, a cinch of fault tightened your waistline. You bobbed your head and, with fingers coiled around the handle of a water pitcher, mouthed the word with a strained breath. Your attention crossed the table, catching your young Lord’s pinched features of rebellious reluctance. When your gaze met, you angled a chin and spoke through batted lashes for him to oblige. The request sent his eyes rolling backwards. Luckily, you didn’t need to pray for his life. To your relief, his father was too preoccupied with his plate to notice.
“Understood,” he said, and took a reproachful sip of his drink. You assumed he’d done so to keep him from taking back the word.
“Good,” Stoick said with a satisfied grumble. “Tomorrow you’ll join me to pay a visit to the farmsteads. We’ll be needing a count of all the livestock and expected yield of crops before Winter. Consider the numbers for rationing. Always best to prepare for the worst.”
“Sure, doomsday prepping sounds like fun,” he said with a lop-sided pin of his lips. “But I was thinking, after we’re done counting with our fingers and toes, you’d talk with me and Gobber. We have some ideas to export new saddles.”
Stoick nodded and spoke in a tone of allowance rather than agreement. “Time will be made tomorrow, then.”
The table quieted to small-talk, clinking tableware, and requests for another pour from your pitcher. When Stoick finished, he wiped his mouth clean with his fingers, and announced his retirement for the night. When the mass of his form disappeared beyond the aching stairs, you fetched yourself to attend the mess.
“Let me help you,” he said, taking a few hurried bites and tossing the cooked tail end of his fish to Toothless. He barely swallowed when he stood. “I just finished.”
“Although I’m grateful for your offer, I must decline you,” you said and seized his plate before he could. “You’ve done enough for me today, Lord Haddock. I’m sure the least I can do in return is my own job.”
“I don’t think there should be a limit for helping anyone,” he said rationally, “unless you think I’m wrong?”
“I think you’ll end up causing more trouble for yourself,” you punctuated your words with the lift of your nose. “Make no mistake. The road to Hel is paved with good-intentions. I don’t wish for you to end up there, of all people.”
He chuckled with a shake of his head. “Does that mean I’ll be in trouble with you?”
“Not me.” You wiggled a finger in front of your nose. “But your father—no, worse yet—an entire village. I'm afraid your father's right. The scorn of a single man is enough to give courage to his like-minded neighbors.”
“If anything else happens, I’ll take care of it,” he said indulgently.
“That is exactly my point. I don’t want for something else to happen, and for you to have to do anything about it. You’ve worked too hard for your good reputation to be ruined. How could I ever sleep at night, knowing I should be the reason to have it questioned?”
“You like to worry more about my reputation than I do. At the end of the day, I just do what I think is right. Even if that means upsetting a few people who probably don't agree with me. Besides,” he fought to dismiss the quarrel with a boyish grin. “I’ve heard Hel has nice warm weather all year round. Wouldn’t mind paying a visit sometime. And who knows? Maybe I’ll be Chief there instead.”
“There you go again with your jests,” you muttered, digging your nails into the dish. “Ignoring every bit of my concerns for you. But what does what I think matter? I suppose it doesn’t. I’m only a servant, after all. Nothing about me deserves a second thought of consideration.”
“Come on, it’s not like that,” his eyes softened, cupping your tense hands.
The agonizing brush of his touch loosened your hold on the clay dish. It collided with the wood below, breaking into unmendable parts at your feet. You paled, bending to clean up your recklessness. Your Lord motioned to join and you thrusted a curt hand to stop him. “Don’t—” you choked on the shame. “Please, my Lord. This… this is all I have. If you respect me at all, then you’ll let me do it myself.”
“I’m sorry.” With pained regard, he placed a single broken chip in your palm and rose to take his leave. “I won’t bother you anymore.”
He swept up the stairs, beckoning Toothless to follow. When the door of his bedchamber closed, you shut your eyes against a wave of remorse. Gods, you wished it would drown you. Perhaps then, the regret would no longer be tangible. You drew in a quivered breath, wishing to pick up more than the shattered fragments of a mere plate.
When morning came, you stood beside yourself, looking solemnly at the same dress and apron spread out on your cot. The same dull white smock, same plain brown kirtle, and the same serviceable apron. Stiff and ugly, you thought. All these same things punctuated how perfectly unpleasant you were on the inside. The display of your behavior the prior evening brought a taste of black licorice, which not even lye soap could rinse from your mouth. For your Lord’s sake, it would’ve served him to cut out your tongue with one of the sharper pieces of platter.
Even if deserved, there was never a sliver of imagination to conjure this—his kindness made no room for unbearable thoughts.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
When the morning chores were completed without a word and, without complaint, you set off to the docks. With your new piece in tow, you trailed down the trodden path to a landscape filled with thatched roofs, until the hill steeped with long fisherman houses laden with crates of tackle and bait.
“My, my, little miss! Seems fate and fortune have brought us to trade once again.” Johann raised his hands to indulge the sky, descending the boat ramp. “I take it you’re faring well, even after yesterday’s dire tribulations. Oh, you should have been there to witness it—Master Hiccup was positively vexed when he landed on my ship and requested for my immediate aid. Why, I had never seen him in such a state! Made me believe ‘twas a matter of life and death. Thank the stars it was not the latter of the two.”
This information did you no favors. It further troubled your features, tense and painted with dismal lines of fault. When strings of thankfulness for his help sprang from your lips, they resonated more as apologies. “I’m sorry—truly, I am. I hate to be more trouble than I’m worth.”
“Now, now, my dear. Let’s not sit idle in the past and wallow in it like a cold bath,” he dismissed it, beckoning you closer with his hands. “Let’s get on with business, shall we?”
“Of course.” You swallowed the hot lump in your throat, extending your tapestry.
“Absolutely remarkable,” Johann yammered on when he took the fabric. He twiddled with the coins in his hands before giving them to you. “This reminds me! Oh, you must listen to this. Whilst journeying from one trading dock to another, I came upon the most curious and wealthy buyer. So enraptured by your work, they were compelled for me to have a good word with you. They have offered quite an exuberant amount of coin for a commissioned piece, should you accept.”
“May I ask who this person is?”
“The buyer has chosen to remain anonymous for the time being. I’m a respectable tradesman, and not inclined to give out customer details should it be personally requested of me not to do so. I assure you, I have a keen eye for scoundrels. This buyer is anything but.”
“It sounds like a gracious opportunity,” you trailed off, fiddling with the scant coins in your apron pocket. With someone of your luck, or rather misfortune, certain things were too good to be true. “May I think it over?”
“By all means,” Johann said. “We’ll remain in touch. I shall send a letter by mail tomorrow and eagerly wait for your response.”
A response would have to wait. Your mind wandered to the more pressing matters of keeping yourself in your young master’s good graces. How could you think of anything else when your conscience pricked at you insistently? There was only one remedy for this, and it was a whimsied gesture from childhood—surely, he would remember the meaning.
Picking up your feet, you scampered upward from the spindly dirt paths to pebbled roads. With allowance in hand, you passed through the open market, pinching your way to purchase the sweetest apple from a cart. You paid no mind to a flock of young women whispering curiously about you. The business of gossip would exist whether or not you gave credit to it. There wasn’t a need to give the webs spinning from their mouths any attention. You imagined being a curious fly was very tiresome.
You came up to the Blacksmith, clanking with sounds of clashing metal, and pluming with smoke from the forge. From the open stall window, you rapped against the wood. When nothing but hammer to iron responded, you insisted with more egregious thumping. “Get outta the way, Grump!” A guttural curse or two struck the air. After a stumbling moment, Gobber’s rotund frame hobbled to view.
“Quit ye’r knockin’, I’ll be right there.” Gobber poked his eyebrows up at your small face peeking through the window. He cleared the indignation from his throat. “Sorry, lass. Didn’t expect ye’w of all people to stop by. What can I do for ya’h?”
With a woeful face, you placed the apple on the counter.
“The ol’ apology apple, eh?” He said with a scratch of his furrowed brow. “Can’t say I understand it myself, but the two of ye’w always had a way of managing. I’ll be sure ta’h give it to the lad when I see ‘em.”
“Thank you ever so much.” You dipped your chin, turning to take leave.
“Hiccup’ll forgive ya’h,” he called out with sympathy. “Always does.”
Hope fluttered your heart, and you thanked the man twice over.
Whisking back to the Haddock Residence, you took out your nerves in the form of extra sweeping and dusting. You did so until you were choking on the splinters raised from the floorboards. With your habit of carrying on with meaningless distractions, you hadn’t noticed the afternoon light spilling from the open window. You lamented on the time and hurried to simmer a pot of stew over the kindling hearth.
A wind danced inside, grazing the back of your neck. A delicate reminder to shut the window before the cool of night waltzed in unannounced.
You turned and spotted a sheen of red gleaming by sunset hue on the sill. When you went to greet it, you picked up the plump portion of a half eaten apple. You pressed a smile to the remaining flesh of it. Taking your own bite, you sighed against the burst of sweetness. The taste of licorice no longer soured your lips.
You leaned into the cheerful air, enriched with slopes of green and spiced with a dusky glow. And as if the breeze could carry words, you spoke:
“I’m glad we’re still friends.”
Reconciliation was a word you hadn’t thought of tasting so sweet.
#hiccup x reader#httyd#how to train your dragon#hiccup horrendous haddock lll#httyd fanfiction#httyd rtte#fanfiction#y/n#hiccup httyd#httyd x reader#maid in heaven
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Last Chance
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Felix Volturi x SwanReader(slight)
A/N: this is for all of you girlies always asking me for swan reader insert. This is the first and last swan insert because I don’t like Bella.
The Fictober prompt today was “Adaptable, I like that.” I know it’s coming out a little past the due date but I will have a long headcanon to make up for it 🤍
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
“I cannot believe you dragged me into this.”
“You could have stayed home. I needed Bella.”
“If you had kept your mouth shut any maybe minded your own damn business this wouldn’t be an issue.” You spat back.
“Y/n it’s fine.” Bella squeezed your hand, “not like we had much choice anyway.” She mumbled under her breath. You were proud of the progress your sister made. It had been a long winter, but thanks to Jacob you had been able to get her to start being happy again. And of course Alice had to come and ruin everything. As much as she hated you, you both knew she wouldn’t push you too far. At least Bella hadn’t seemed too happy to see her old friend either, to both your and Alice’s surprise. She had left you and Jacob in the truck ready to scream at whoever dared to be waiting in our home.
The guilt trip happened after you and Jacob followed her in. Alice explained that she saw her cliff jumping, which yeah not her best move. You knew about the hallucinations that still popped up every now and then, she told you that she was trying to finally get it to go away. Be able to live her life without having to worry about Edward lingering over her. You left a note to your dad saying you were taking a road trip to lift up Bella’s spirit. Charlie loved the improvement but he trusted you, especially when you had helped Bella so much already. Stupid Alice. Stupid Cullens.
You and Bella sat together on the plane ride over, much Alice’s annoyance. You knew why she didn’t fight you too much, the secret had been eating at you since Bella came to Forks. Why Edward made sure to stay away as much as possible, complain as he might he relied on his gift for everything. And you…you alone threatened the very nature of his being. He claimed he was a protector of the family but you knew better. He heard your thoughts and ran.
“Bella?”
“Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“What’s wrong?”
You started choking up, “you remember when you woke up at the hospital? After the whole James thing?”
“…yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I shouldn’t have let you go to that stupid game by yourself.”
“It’s not your fault y/n. I shouldn’t have gone without you.”
“Yeah but… I wasn’t allowed.”
“I thought—you said you hated baseball.”
You shook your head “No the day before. When we went to the cullens… They had told us Alice can see the futures…”
“Yeah?”
“Well when you and Edward left I asked Jasper and Alice about their gifts, and Alice was like ‘I bet I can tell you exactly who you’ll go to prom with and what you’ll wear. As of right now you want to go to school for—‘ and it freaked me out because I don’t want to know my future. I asked her not to tell me.”
You still remember everything about that day. How everyone had kept their distance but began as Alice blinked in confusion. Her tilted as she stared you down. Her anxiety must have been high because Jasper began worrying asking her what was wrong, seeming rather frantic himself.
‘I—nothing. I just…I think I need a moment.’ She disappeared with Jasper following a second later. Carlisle said that her visions sometimes are more like puzzles and it takes time to figure them out. You had nodded feeling uncomfortable at the small talk until Edward and Bella returned. When he began glaring at you the second he walked in you begged Bella to go home. You remember her panic at the desperation in your voice but she agreed and the two of you were dropped off. Edwards icy glare never left you. You felt it until you closed the door behind you.
The two of you weren’t supposed to meet his family until the game, but because Bella wanted you to go with her. The next morning Bella was working on cleaning out her truck, you had been reading and were about to go help her when Edward and Alice appeared in your room. You had already warned Edward you would scream if he came in yours and Bella room again after she told you he watched her sleep. He had threatened you then and you warned him you would eat him out to Bella and she would never think of him the same. He played it off then, you had told her if anything happens to you at night or she finds you somewhere then it was Edward. She had assured you he would never hurt you but she gave him an earful over it apparently. He’s apparently never had the upper hand because he’s hated you since. Alice immediately began saying that you three need to talk in private.
‘Give me back my visions!’ Alice yelled as quietly as she could.
‘What are you talking about??’
She crossed her arms and looked at Edward, ‘she has no idea Alice.’
‘Well she needs to figure it out.’
‘And you two need to tell me what’s going on before I yell for Bella.’ They acted as if you weren’t in the room, and in your own home? You were furious.
‘You know we are more than able to stop you.’
‘Edward I don’t have my gift and even I can see how badly that would turn out for us. Think about Carlisle.’
He must agreed because a small growl seemed to emit from his throat, he cleared before talking to you in saccharine tone, ‘Y/n. We need you to stay here for the baseball game today. I need to be able to protect our family and you possibly getting rid of my gift could hurt everyone.’
‘Please. The only ones who protect your family are Emmett and Jasper. I wish you didn’t have your gift either. Maybe then you’d be able to figure out how to actually interact with people.’
His eyes grew wide, and he got dangerously close to you. ‘Take. It. Back. Take it back NOW!’
‘Hey Bells?’ You said as loud as you could. She opened the door downstairs a few seconds later
‘Y/n, did you call me?’
Edward looked as if he could have kill right then. But he took a few steps back, ‘yeah just wondering if you still needed help. I got caught up in the book I was reading.’
‘Yeah sure that’d be great! I’ll meet you out here.’
‘Guess this conversation is over.’
Alice and Edward looked at eachother. Alice glared at you, ‘Don’t ruin Bella’s fun today. Let her enjoy the game, okay?’
Something about the way she said made it sound like a threat to Bella. And no matter how much you had a distaste for Edward he’d been nothing but respectful to her. At least that’s what she had told you. You worried about your sister, you had been separated since you were little. If anything happened to her—
Bella took your story in silence. “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“I should have listened to you from the beginning. I thought it was my fault when he left.” She not her lip and shook her head, “You and Jake were right. But I’m not letting him get off easy. We’re going to save him because he deserves to live with whatever guilt he has.”
You hugged your sister. You forgot how much of a fighter she was at times. She had been so determined to save you she was ready to run to Florida scream at Charlie. You had managed to get her to calm down enough to explain. Edward appeared in your room and said if they had their gift they may be more able to help. You saw Alice outside waiting for the couple she’s the only one .you thought could help. You made Bella apologize and told her you would come up with an excuse for Charlie. This time you left a note for Charlie saying that you and Bella needed to take a breather from the accident and took a road trip up down the coast. You knew he wouldn’t be happy but he knew you were trying to keep Bella’s spirit up. Jacob had only helped the two of you.
“So…y/n did Edward ever get his gift back?”
“Yeah, while you were in the hospital he basically begged me to give it back. I gave it back once everyone got together after you got better.” You didn’t mention that this was after you had a breakdown when Bella was on the run and told Rosalie and Esme what had happened with Edward. Rosalie had told you Esme and Carlisle gave him a stern talking to. And apparently it had changed their view as favorite child. You had made sure to try and give his gift back after Esme had talked to Carlisle. Apparently it worked because it looked like he had seen a ghost.
“Should I take it back again?”
“Can you do it from here?”
“No but when I see him maybe.”
“What about Alice?”
“I never tried to take her gift away on purpose. I should have though because then we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Bella chuckled before getting a serious look on her face
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to but he showed up the second I went outside and invited you out to baseball. Then you got hurt and I was going to tell you then but you kept saying how he saved you and you were so happy. And then after our birthday you were panicking and I didn’t know if you candle anything else. And I’m sure you know why you didn’t say anything after they left.”
“I get it but what about when we were with Jacob and found out about why they didn’t like the cullens.”
“Honestly…I just wanted you to realize they weren’t as nice as they seemed on your own and you told me about hearing him. I didn’t think you were over him.”
“To be honest I don’t think I was at first. But after a while I think it was more of him scolding me like a child. He never took me seriously. And I started looking for the adrenaline rushes to spite him. And they did make me happy.” Bella shrugged and the two of you leaned against each other and fell asleep until you landed in Italy.
The three of you sped off in a sports car Alice decided to “borrow.” She had tried to explain herself to Bella but she just looked out the window. You finally arrived at the festival the town of Volterra was having. You hated running but you also had to make sure Bella didn’t fall before she made it to Edward and crack her skull open.
You both saw him at the same time. You tried to make your “gift” work. Once you figured out you could mess with Edward you would often try to stop his mind reading during lunch. You thought it was a fair deal since he was the reason your sister broke her leg. You hoped this would work. Maybe get him to notice something was weird while Bella.
He seemed to falter a little bit.
Edward, you idiot she’s alive. Look up!
Bella a managed to stop in front of the fountain. God you hoped she wouldn’t make a scene. The whole point was Edward didn’t show himself to the crowd. You bought the two of you enough time to get his attention. He took a step back, and the two of you ran up to him. You looked around, a little girl was staring at the three of you. You were sure you had seen the tiniest bit of reflect when you saw Edward and you wonder how much she saw. You didn’t have much time to question before Edward dragged you and Bella into the alley.
He cupped Bella’s face but she moved his hands away, “you were going to kill yourself?”
“Bella I can’t live without you.” He sounded pained she was surprised
“Didn’t you leave her in the middle of the woods?”
“I was trying to save her.” He snarled at you
“Great way of showing she almost died. again. Thanks to you. If it hadnt been for Sam who knows what would have happened.” You made sure to think of Bella being carried to your house
“Bella. Why didn’t you return home?”
“Are you serious right now?” Bella asked, he opened his mouth to say something before his head turned down to look at two dark figures heading your way. Suddenly his voice changed into the annoying fake politeness he treated everyone else with.
“Greetings, gentlemen. I don’t think I’ll be requiring your services today. I would appreciate it very much, however, if you would send my thanks to your masters.”
God his tone was so condescending, it was clear that neither fell for it. The taller of the two spoke, “Shall we take this to a more appropriate venue?”
“I don’t believe that will be necessary.” His cool tone was now, gone and replaced with an icy retort, “I know your instructions, Felix. I haven’t broken any rules.” Suddenly you were furious again. You wished that he couldn’t use his gift again. And instantly his anger was directed at you
“What are you doing??”
“Keeping your mouth shut. They obviously aren’t asking. So lets just go and get this over with so no one gets into any trouble. Yeah?” The tall one, Felix tilted his head. Seeming somewhat amused at the scolding you gave Edward. Not that you could see much at this distance
The shorter one chuckled and came close enough to see his face, “Felix merely meant to point out the proximity of the sun. Shall we seek better cover?”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Bella, go with Y/n. Why dont you two enjoy the festival.
“No. Bring the girls.”
“I dont think so.” Edward looked like he was ready to attack but if your history lesson with Carlisle served you, he didn’t stand a chance. He honestly looked like Alice would be able to take him. You were so tired at this point.
“For Gods sake. Edward you look like your about to crumble into dust. You’re not winning any fights. Bella?” You offered her your hand, “Come on, we knew the risks.” Bella grabbed your hand and you waited for the two men to show you the way. Edward sulked behind you. After a couple minutes Alice glided in.
“You don’t mind if I join, right boys?” The two continued to walk, with you and Bella close behind.
Alice caught Edward up on Bellas life. Her reasonings for cliff jumping. Not that it was any of his business. Your group ran into another much smaller vampire, but by the way everyone reacted you could tell she must have been powerful. They called her Jane, Bella squeezed your hand. A silent exchange passed between the two of you as you saw her disappear into what seemed to be a storm drain. You squeezed it back letting her know it would be okay. Alice went first, I suppose to catch our fall. Bella went first. You hesitated only because it was Alice that was going to catch you. Felix suddenly went down before you, I guess since Bella was down there, there was no reason for Edward to leave. They’d probably find him anyway.
Demetri gestured for you to follow, you called out into the darkness “You’re going to catch me right?”
“Dont trust me y/n?” Alice joked
“No.” You were most definitely not joking.
You heard a chuckle then Felix’s voice, “I’ll make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
Good enough for you, you jumped down preparing for a much harder impact. Felix caught you and gently began to place you down. He leant forward as he let your feet hit the ground, “Adaptable. I like that.” He whispered
You found yourself chuckling, “wouldnt want to break anything too close to this many vampires, right?”
“SUre.” he smirked. You went to grab Bellas hand again, you could barely see her in the darkness but you felt like she was raising her brow at you, questioning what she just heard. You simply shrugged and waited for Edward, and then the other vampire, Demetri to join you. Immediately the light was gone and there was no way you would be able to see anything. Edward offered to guide Bella but she pulled away again. You heard some kind of sigh before your other hand was placed in the crook of someones arms. Felix. You felt your face get hot and you hoped their eyesight wasnt good enough to see the redness surely creeping up on your face. You found yourself disappointed when you reached the hallway and the lighting was bright enough for you to see again.
The only time Bella talked to Edward was about the secretary you passed on your way to the most spectacular looking room youd ever seen. You knew it was called the throne room but the name didnt justify the grandeur of the architecture, not just in this room but the main building you had walked through. You felt as if you had gone on a very private tour you would never be able to afford. Everything was slowed down. You barely registered anything anyone was saying, if you were going to die at least this was a pretty place to do so. You felt the need to curtsy once in front of the three leaders of Volterra. The leaders of their kind. You slightly bowed your head as they eyed you. You realized the people who had come to collect you had gone and taken their place in respective areas of the room. You and Bella clung to each other as the one you would find to be Aro began to speak, you continued to dissociate until you heard your sisters name.
...
“And Alice, Bella, and Y/n too!” This is a happy surprise! Wonderful! I do love a happy ending.”
You zoned out again as he began to praise Alice. Ugh, it was her fault we were in this mess to begin with. You found yourself staring at Edward, he was becoming more and more frantic as he realized his “gift” hadnt returned. Aro eventually asked to read his mind. Only then realizing what I had done. You debated doing the same to him but you felt eerily calm. This man was of no threat to you.
“Interesting. A girl who is immune to your powers Edward. And another who seems to be able to take them away.” This got the attention of Caius. Who suddenly seemed interested.
“May I?” He asked Bella. She held her hand out and Aro laughed as he found he could not read her mind either, he turned his attention towards you and you simply outstretched your hand. “Interesting, truly fascinating. A first. I wonder if your abilities are immune to our other talents.”
He called for Jane, Jane glared at Bella but Edward tried to be a hero and doubled over in pain. Once Edward was subdued she looked at Bella again. Nothing. You could tell she was upset, she was young no more than 11 it seemed and it was clear she wanted Aro’s approval. She looked at you. You begged whoever was out there for her gift to not work. You were lucky, so very lucky. Aro placated the child and asked Edward and ALice if they would like to stay in Volterra. They promptly declined when he turned to you and Bella, you were both stunned. Caius said the Cullens had broken the law, humans are not supposed to know about them and he was right, Edward made it clear everyday how he hated what he was and would never wish the same on Bella. We had no choice, either we turn or we die. Alice offered to change Bella but you both put together that this did not include you. You squeezed her hand before stepping forward.
“I’ll join. I just--our father...is there anyway you all could stage an accident. If he thinks we ran away he will never stop looking.”
“Y/n!”
“Bell you’re free to make your own choices. But I’m not ready to die because your boyfriend is an idiot.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” she grumbled, then she straightened and walked next to you and placed her hand in yours. “I’ll stay with my sister.”
“Bella. You dont know what youre doing.”
Bella began shaking, all the sadness she had felt for those first few, terrible months had turned to anger once you and Jacob began bringing her out of her shell again. She was done listening to him, “You lost the right to worry about me when you left me for dead in the woods. I’m staying.”
“How exciting!” Aro clapped, “Felix, would you take Bella and y/n to the room next to Heidi’s? She’s about to come and we wouldn’t want to make a bad first impression on our guests.”
Felix nodded and walked you two out of the rom. You looked back at Edward who was still clenching his fists. You hope neither of them ever got their gift back. He apologized before grabbing both of you and dashing to where you were to stay until they were done feeding. Apparently Carlisle was on his way as word of this whole debacle was just reaching him. You both cried. Realizing your life was over and you hadn’t even had a chance to say goodbye to your dad. Bella continued to apologize saying she should have let Edward go through with it and you apologizing for giving in so quickly. You tried to recount the events of today.
“I didn’t think I had any feelings left for him.” Bella said quietly after the two of you had been sitting alone for some time.
“I’m sure you had a lot left to say to him. It makes sense.”
“Should I have let that Felix guy-“
“No. Empathy is not something to apologize for.”
“Speaking of. Anything you want to tell me?” She offered you a smile so genuine it almost made you cry again.
“He seems nice.”
“Sureee.” You smacked her arm and after a bit more talking about the chances of what would happen to you now that you were here. It didn’t take long for the two of you fell asleep. You woke up to the knocking first
Aro and two women walked in together. Bella woke up slowly but quickly sat up when she realized what was happening. “Already?”
“Not to worry, we won’t turn you for a while until you are ready. This is my wife Sulpicia and this is my sister Athenadora, Caiuss wife.”
“Nice to meet you.” You both kept your head down. Aro explained he would try and change us around 25. Which meant you would be changing first. Renee had chosen Bella because she wasn’t in her terrible threes when she left. You had around 5 years left.Bella had 8. Bell tried to insist she would rather get it out of the way now but you begged her to wait until she was at least 21. Aro laughed at your bickering. Sulpicia and Athenadora explained how Heidi would help the two of you settle in. Get clothes, books, decor for the room. Supposedly she had a real knack for it. They also told you that while you would be sleeping together for the first few nights you would each have supérate rooms until the both of you had changed. Athenadora insisted that you two get separate rooms that connect together so you could continue to hang out as sisters. This made Bella tear up, you were both expecting to be painfully changed and now everyone had been nothing but kind. You wondered if Rdward had actually met Aro or anyone in the volturi. Temporary pajamas were brought by Heidi and Bella collapsed immediately. You were too excited to sleep and found yourself pacing in the room wondering what you were going to have to do, you were going to need to know who you could talk with. You were going to need support. Felix and Demetri seemed nice. Your thoughts lingered on Celis and you felt the corners of your lips perk up. You jumped at the knocking at your door.
“Hello, y/n are you getting settled?” Felix. You rubbed your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming
“Uhm hi Felix. It’s okay for I suppose.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“Not really…”
“Hmm that won’t do.”
“No?”
He shook his head, “would you like a tour?”
You looked behind you at your sleeping sister, more at peace than she had been in a long time. You didn’t have to worry about her falling backwards anymore, you wanted to be happy too. You looked back up at Felix and looped your arm in his, “I would love a tour.”
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
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Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 13
Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: Jessica Anderson is Elvis Presley's assistant and after months of working together, slowly something sparks between them. Friendship? Or is it more? [ Fem!Reader ]
Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+), Slowburn
|| Word Count: 6,336
Author's Note: I kind of had writer's block but for some reason I was able to write 4,000 words today. I hope this chapter was worth the wait!
Masterlist
Don't You Kiss Me Once or Twice - Chapter 13
Jess’ POV
I felt something gently tug at my hair then slowly I heard Elvis’ soulful voice, singing “Now or Never” softly. I wanted to keep my eyes shut forever but I had no idea where I was and what was going on. My eyes slowly fluttered open, I blinked quickly trying to adjust to the light. I was in a hospital room. I closed my eyes again, squeezing them tightly.
“Are you gonna wake up, sweet girl?” Elvis said.
“I’ve been awake for a while.” I croaked, my voice sounding very scratchy. I needed to clear my throat and drink water.
I looked up at him, tilting my head back because he was standing behind me. He looked at me with wide blue eyes, filled with shock and relief.
He then proceeded to let me know what happened which jogged my memory and I remembered exactly what happened. He then exploded and started yelling at me. I gulped, playing with the cup in my hands.
“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t be yelling at you. It wasn’t your fault.” He said, his voice wavering. He quickly turned and faced the door but I could already see the tears in his eyes. I wanted to climb out of bed and pull him into my arms to hug him tightly.
“Elvis.” I sighed.
“I-I need to call the nurse or the doctor, or something.” He mumbled and walked out of the room.
Elvis came back with the doctors and nurses but kept quiet and stood in the corner. He didn't speak to me at all but kept staring at me with wide eyes like he couldn’t believe I was sitting on the bed and talking back to the doctors, answering their questions to make sure my memory was in tact.
Everyone visited the next day, my family, the mafia and their wives, Janice and Matt.
“Hey.” I smiled softly when I was Matt.
“Hi.” He breathed “How are you?”
“Good, just feeling a bit dizzy and I have a bit of a headache.” I replied.
He sat down at the chair that was next to my bed. No one was at my room at that point and Elvis seemed to have just disappeared the moment my family came in, I didn’t really see him or talk to him after he exploded. I really wanted to, I wanted him to be here. Actually scratch that, I wanted to be home. I hate hospitals.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” He smiled, grabbing my hand.
I squeezed his hand “Thank you.”
“I bet Elvis is feeling so guilty.” Matt chuckled.
“W-why would he feel guilty?” I asked him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Well because it was his fault this happened.” Matt shrugged.
I frowned and pulled my hand out of his grip “No. It wasn’t his fault.”
I don’t know why I felt so offended and angry that he was blaming Elvis for this stupid accident fully knowing it was my fault.
“Baby-” Matt started. For some reason I cringed when he called me that, I hated it. It didn’t feel right.
“No, it wasn’t his fault. It was mine, I wasn’t listening to his instructions and accidents happen.”
“Okay, I didn’t mean anything by it.” He replied “He’s just too cocky for his own good, thinking he could teach you how to ride a horse having no prior experience to teaching horse riding.”
I felt anger bubble up the surface “He’s not cocky. It was sweet. He does things with intention, knowing how much I wanted to learn how to ride a horse. I’m sorry Matt, I’m really not feeling well.” I said, clenching my jaw. I hated him talking about Elvis and I hated that he was placing a big amount of blame on Elvis’ shoulders.
“Jess-“ Matt started again looking at me with a confused look on his face.
“I think she said she’s not feeling well.” Elvis said, standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face as he glared Matt down.
Matt sighed and ran a hand through his hair “Okay.” He stood up then leaned down to kiss me, I turned my head to the side letting him kiss my cheek instead. We kissed once, how does he think it’s okay for him to kiss me now? We didn’t make anything official. I didn’t want Elvis to see that.
“Are you okay?” Elvis asked, leaning on the frame of the door after Matt left.
“Yeah.” I sighed “Are you?” I asked him because he was acting strange.
“You’re the one in a hospital bed, not me doll.” He chuckled, his smile not reaching his eyes. He seemed upset about something.
“Why are you all the way for there? I won’t bite.” I chuckled. Elvis rolled his eyes and walked closer to the bed.
“I just think you’ll drop back into a coma once you close your eyes.” Elvis whispered, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. He then cupped my cheek and rubbed his thumb back and forth, he frowned, biting his lower lip “You really scared the crap outta me Jess.” He whispered.
I gulped, his eyes were very intensely staring into my eyes “I know. I’m sorry.” I replied, reaching up and cupping his hand that was on my cheek to squeeze it reassuringly.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” He whispered then slowly leaned down to kiss my lips. My eyes fluttered closed, I stretched my neck up to be able to reach his lips.
Someone cleared their throat causing Elvis to jerk back when our lips were a few inches from one another. My eyes snapped open and I saw the doctor standing by the door.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” He smiled, walking in.
Elvis and I both shook our heads “no”, both flushing in embarrassment. My heart was beating out of my chest, I wanted to kiss his lips so bad. I cursed the doctor in my head for having the worst timing.
The doctor gave me some medication for the headaches and dizziness that I was feeling and told me they might release me tomorrow, hopefully.
“Have you slept at all?” I asked Elvis, looking at him more clearly now. I could see the tired bags under his eyes and his bloodshot blue eyes. His side burns slightly outgrown from his usual length. He looked worse than I did and I was the one who just woke up from a coma not 24 hours ago.
“Don’t you worry about me doll. Worry about your self, you still have a bad concussion.” He frowned.
“Elvis, please tell me you went home and slept.” I frowned, I didn’t want him to run himself haggard “Elvis.” I repeated when he didn't answer.
“Jess, just drop it please.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair.
“Elvis, please go home and get some sleep. I’m fine, nothing is going to happen in the few hours when you’re asleep.”
“I can go home once you’re home.” He replied.
“Wait, you didn't go home at all?” I asked him. Was he by my side the entire time I was in the hospital? He just never went home?
“Go to sleep Jess.” He grumbled.
“Go home, Elvis. Please. I’m surrounded by doctors and nurses, I’m in the best place for any emergency.” His eyes widened when I said emergency “Which there won’t be because I’m okay and nothing is going to happen.” I quickly said to ease him.
“You promise?” He whispered, biting down on his lower lip. At that moment he looked like a small, scared little boy and he needed reassurance. It broke my heart to see him looking scared and worried that something might happen to me.
I reached my hand out to him, he stepped forward and grabbed my hand “I promise nothing is going to happen.” I squeezed his hand “Go home.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes “Fine. Go to sleep.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on my forehead.
After he left it was easy to fall asleep since I was still feeling hazy and tired. Also, visiting hours were over so I didn’t have to be up and pretend I was okay, it was hard having a conversation with a really bad headache and all I wanted to do was shut my eyes.
“Is she asleep?” Elvis whispered. I frowned and slowly opened my eyes glancing at the clock at my bedside, its been an hour since I fell asleep.
“Yes, Mr. Presley.” The nurse replied.
I turned to the other side to see Elvis standing by the window of my room, by the nurses’ station.
“You didn't leave?” I asked loudly. Elvis turned to look at me through the window with wide eyes when he suddenly dropped to the ground and out of sight.
“I saw you!” I chuckled.
“No you didn’t! I’m not here!” He called out “You’re supposed to be asleep!” He jumped up and walked into my room.
“And you were supposed to be at home.” I pointed out.
“How about we pretend like I left and went home and you slept.” He gave me his famous boyish grin.
“The thing is I actually went to sleep and slept for an hour. What were you doing in that hour?” I asked him.
“I was sitting outside your room.” He said smiling sheepishly.
“You need sleep.” I frowned.
“Don’t worry about me Jess.” He rolled his eyes.
“I’ll stop worrying once you sleep.”
I sighed and scooted from the middle of the bed to the right “There isn't much space but you could sleep on my bed next to me.”
“Jess, no.” He shook his head “The bed is tiny and you actually need to sleep so that we can get the hell outta this hospital.”
“Hey I’m giving you a compromise here or I could call security and have you escorted out.”
“Are you threatening me?” He gasped mockingly “Jeez doll if you wanted to cuddle so bad you could’ve just asked.” He rolled his eyes with a grin on his face. I rolled my eyes at him and lifted the covers for him. He removed his shoes and got under the covers. I had to place my shoulder over his since the bed was very small.
“Lie on my chest.” He whispered when I turned and gave him my back. I rolled back and slid slightly down, placing my head on his chest. He sighed and wrapped his arm around me.
“What the fuck are we doing?” I whispered, throwing an arm over his waist.
What were we doing? Cuddling like a couple when we’re the furthest thing from being a couple. Nevertheless, it felt so right to be in his arms. As if his arms were meant to hold me, my head perfectly rested on his chest, his heart pounding loudly under my cheek. His scent fully engulfing my senses, slowly it was becoming my favorite smell. Could we just lay here forever and pretend we’re a regular old couple cuddling in bed instead of the terrible reality that we are never going to be that couple or a couple in general. My heart raced at the thought of being with Elvis. Forbidden love crush.
“Now you’re questioning this. Shhh, go to sleep.” Elvis said and placed his hand over my eyes, making me close them “Why are your feet so cold?” He frowned when my foot touched his.
I looked up at him and shoved my feet under his legs to get my feet warm making him chuckle “I don't know. That's your job now.”
“What’s my job?” He asked looking down at me and running his hands through my hair.
“To keep me warm.”
“Fine, I’ll take that job.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes.
“Good night.” I reached up and kissed his jaw.
He frowned “Good night.”
I laid my head back on his chest and closed my eyes, feeling his heart pound faster.
For some reason I couldn't sleep until I heard Elvis’ breathing change. I opened my eyes and looked up at him to see his mouth slightly open. Really I knew why I couldn’t sleep I had to make sure he fell asleep, I was then able to quickly fall asleep right after. I hated seeing him so tired especially knowing that this was his break, he was overworked as is, this was his time to wind down and relax not stay up for three days in a row.
I sighed, cuddling closer to my pillow feeling well rested. I felt someone play with the end of my hair, my eyes fluttered open.
“Hey sweet girl.” Elvis muttered, smiling down at me.
Oh, my pillow wasn't a pillow. It was Elvis. For a split second I forgot we were sleeping together in a hospital bed.
I looked up at him and smiled back “Hey.”
“How’d you sleep?” He asked.
“Great.” I sighed and closed my eyes again, cuddling back again against his chest. He chuckled, his chest rumbling under my cheek.
“I’m happy.”
“What about you?” I asked him, opening my eyes to look at him.
“Amazing.” He sighed, his eyes shinning brightly. I openly stared at him, taking in his bright blue eyes and handsome face. He looked well rested, the bags under his eyes no longer evident, the lines of worry that he supported no longer there “I always sleep the best when you’re around.”
I sucked in an audible breath, my heart clutching in my chest.
“I’m glad, Elvis.” I gulped not knowing how to respond.
We stared at each other.
“You’re doing it again.” He whispered.
“What?” I whispered, not breaking eye contact.
“You’re looking at me with those green eyes.” He sighed “Those green eyes-“ He trailed, cupping my cheek.
“Well what do we have here?”
We both turned our heads towards the door, Grace standing leaning against the door frame with a smirk on her face and a bouquet of tulips in her hand.
Elvis and I both groaned, knowing we will not hear the end of it. I turned and buried my face into the crook of Elvis’ neck.
“Am I interrupting something, looooovers?” Grace teased, walking into the room.
“Nope.” Elvis replied.
I pushed myself off of Elvis, allowing him to shuffle out of bed.
“I knew something was up with you two!”
“Nothing is up, Grace.” I replied as Elvis plopped down on the chair next to my bed to put on his shoes.
“Jess, I know you better than anyone else!” Grace narrowed her eyes, pointing at me.
“I know Jess better than you.” Elvis narrowed his eyes at Grace, challenging her.
“Nu huh.” Grace placed her hands on her hips, keeping her eyes on Elvis.
“Oh really, then what are Jess’ favorite flowers?” Elvis crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair.
“Tulips, duuuh.” Grace grinned, placing the bouquet on one of the tables.
Elvis made a buzzer sound using his mouth “Wrong! They’re sunflowers!”
Grace gasped and they both turned to look at me, waiting for conformation.
“They’re…. sunflowers.” I answered, grinning at Elvis.
“Yes!” Elvis jumped, throwing his fist up in the air in victory.
“Tulips are a close second.” I smiled sheepishly at Grace who pouted.
“I’m gonna brush my teeth.” Elvis said and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
“You two would make cute babies.” Grace grinned.
“Grace!” I laughed “Stop!”
“What! You two are like the hottest people on the planet!”
“She’s right, you know.” Elvis sang, swimming the door open “We owe it to the world to make good looking babies.” He winked at me.
I could feel the heart running up my neck to my cheeks “You two are so annoying.” I sat at the edge of the bed and swung my legs, placing my feet on the ground. I gripped the edge of the bed and slowly stood up, my knees wobbling slightly. It was easier to stand on them today, yesterday was hard because I hadn’t moved my feet for days.
“Wow!” Elvis said and jogged over to me, taking my hand in his “Let me help you.”
“It’s okay, I got this.” I said and pulled my hand from his grip. I wanted to try standing on my own. I was able to get to the bathroom but it took me twice as long as the average person and Elvis and Grace hovering over me incase I needed support.
The doctor later gave me the all clear to go home with some medication.
“Wow no one showed up to see me leave the hospital?” I pouted as Elvis and Red walked me to the car.
“I guess you’re not that important to them.” Red joked, chuckling.
“Hey!” I smacked his arm.
“I’m really glad you’re okay Jess. The guys were a mess when they found out.” Red replied.
“I think just about all of them cried.” Elvis chuckled.
“I can’t imagine any of you guys crying. Aww Red!” I grinned and threw my arm over his shoulders, pulling him in for a side hug. Red laughed and squeezed my waist.
“We’ll be extra careful next time.” I ducked into the car, Elvis and Red getting in the front with Red in the driver’s side.
“Ha ha ha.” Elvis laughed sarcastically “Very funny. There won’t be a next time.”
“Nooo, it was just a hiccup.” I frowned, Red started driving off the hospital’s lot.
“Yeah a hiccup that almost cost you your life, Jess.” Elvis clenched his jaw, getting agitated.
“You’re exaggerating.” I argued.
“Don’t start, Jess.”
“We’re just gonna give up just because I fell, a lot of people fall.”
Elvis chuckled darkly, no humor behind his voice “You weren’t there. I mean you were but you were unconscious and you weren't waking up. Do you know how scary that was, seeing you lying there lifeless the only sign that you were actually alive was your pulse. You’re never going near a horse again, end of story.”
I remained quiet instead turning to look out of the window. I had to think of this from Elvis’ perspective which I failed to do. For me it was easy, I fell off but it happens and thank god I’m okay with close to no repercussions. However, I realized it was probably traumatizing for Elvis to see me like that and having to wait by my bedside for three days having no idea when or if I was going to wake up. Even then there was the potential of the fall affecting my legs, my memory etc.
The sun was setting and almost completely gone when we got to Graceland. Elvis opened the car door for me and helped me out by holding my hand.
“Thanks.” I gave him a small smile. He still looked mad at me but still managed to return my smile with a timid one.
“Uh there’s something in the backyard I want you to see.” Elvis lead me towards the back of the house instead up the steps that lead to the house itself.
“Oh.” I gave him a confused look but followed his and Red’s lead with Elvis’ hand on the small of my back. His fingers emitting heat up my back. I’ll never get used to his touch, they always left me feeling too warm.
“Surprise!” Everyone yelled once we rounded the corner.
I gasped, a grin spreading on my face as I took in my loved ones, my entire family, the mafia members and their wives. They all stood in cowboy and cowgirl outfits, a huge dance floor installed in the middle, big banners that say “Welcome back Jess!” and big balloons.
“I don’t know if this was a good idea given that you're still not well but I thought you’d like a night of line dancing.” Elvis said, keeping his hand on my back as he looked down at me.
I grinned and looked up at him, shaking my head “No, no. This-this is amazing, Elvis. I-I don’t know how to thank you, seriously.” I smiled at him. He smiled back softly, we stared into each other’s eyes, his blue eyes shinning with something I couldn't decipher until I was pulled into my dad’s arms. I laughed and threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. Everyone slowly crowded us, pulling me into a hug and patting my back.
Thank god my mother decided to pack me a dress for when I got home or I would’ve really been underdressed not that anyone would’ve cared.
“Come on let’s line dance!” Joe shouted.
“Wow!” Elvis pulled on my arm “I don’t think you can.”
I pouted “Yeah, I can barely walk. It’s okay I’ll sit this one out, you guys go ahead!”
Everyone groaned in response but still lined up to dance. Elvis stayed standing next to me.
“Go, join them.” I nudged him, bumping my hip to his.
“Nah.” He shook his head “Not really feeling it.”
They started dancing, I felt slightly sad that I couldn’t join in. I could feel Elvis’ eyes on me.
He groaned “God you’re making me feel really guilty doll.”
“Why?” I chuckled.
“Because, it was my idea. I completely forgot you could barely walk.” He said smacking his forehead.
“It’s fine.” I laughed.
“Wait! Stop the music!” Elvis yelled. Red ran forward and stopped the music, everyone stopping mid dance “We’re joining in!”
Everyone cheered.
“What- Elvis I can’t.” I shook my head, my legs still felt wobbly.
“I got an idea, follow my lead.” He said, taking my hand in his as he pulled me towards the middle of the dance floor “Okay, put your arm around my shoulders. I’ll hold you up, it’s gonna be hard to keep up but it could work.” Elvis shrugged. I grinned, standing beside him. I threw my arm around his shoulders, his arm wrapping around my waist, taking most of my weight off of my feet. The music started back up again. We tried doing the steps, we ended up being too slow, laughing at each other as we kept messing up. I loved Elvis’ hiccup laugh it made my heart soar. I missed his laugh, I felt like I haven't heard his genuine laugh in such a long time. I giggled when Elvis tripped on his feet almost throwing the both of us to the ground.
“Woah!” He laughed loudly. I giggled, gripping his shoulder tightly.
“Okay maybe this wasn’t the best idea!” Elvis shouted of the music.
“No it wasn’t!” I laughed “But its way more fun!”
Elvis laughed and planted a kiss to the side of my head.
I side hugged Elvis, my arm still swung around his shoulders when the song ended. Everyone was clapping and cheering once the song was over.
“You two would make an adorable couple.” My mom said to Elvis.
“Mom.” I widened my eyes at her, dropping my arm from Elvis’ shoulders.
“Couldn’t agree more, convince your daughter for me please?” Elvis gave my mom a devastating grin, knowing what that grin does to women.
I gaped, turning to look at Elvis. What the hell did that mean?
“I’m kidding!” Elvis laughed seeing the look I gave him.
“Stop playing games, Elvis.” Mom giggled, her cheeks turning red at the smile Elvis gave her. She slapped his shoulder while batting her eyelashes at Elvis. It was my turn to now gape at her, what the hell was she doing? Was she flirting with Elvis?
“Dad! Come take your wife please!” I called out, Elvis bursting out in laughter.
“Oh god.” I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment as dad pulled mom away for a dance.
“Was your mom flirting with me?” Elvis grinned.
“I am so sorry Elvis.”
Elvis shook his head with a smile on his face “It’s okay, I’ve been told I’m great with the older ladies.”
“Ha ha ha.” I laughed sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him.
He dropped his smile, his eyes darkening. He dipped his head “Are you jealous Jess?” He whispered. The mood shifted from playful to intense. I gulped, the look in his eyes made my mouth go dry and heat to unfurl inside me, traveling down my body.
“I- no.”
His smirk slowly stretched across his devastatingly handsome face “Are you flustered?”
I frowned, trying not to show him that I was actually getting flustered. He slowly leaned in whispering in my ear “If you want me to satisfy you, all you have to do is ask honey.”
I bit my lips harshly, keeping my moan from coming out as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. His musk does something to me, his closeness is driving me crazy.
“Cat’s got your tongue?” He whispered, pulling back to look at me but remaining super close our noses almost touching.
I breathed heavily, my chest heaving. I wanted him. He licked his lower lip, his tongue slowly darting out and running on his lower lip.
“Jess!” Grace called.
Elvis growled, his jaw clenching as he pulled back.
“Yeah?” My response came out airy and out of breath as if I had just ran a mile.
“I got your cowboy hat!” She said, moving through the people still on the dance floor.
I smiled as she placed my hat on my head.
“Cute!” Grace grinned.
“You look so cute in a cowboy hat!” I told her.
“Not really my speed but anything for you.” She replied. I turned to Elvis to see him gulp, all humor and intensity gone from his eyes instead replaced by alarm. His eyes wide with fear.
“Are you okay?” I frowned, stepping forward to him.
“Uh ye-yes. I-I’m fine. I have to go. Look after her Grace?” He spoke very quickly, taking off before Grace had the chance to respond.
“What’s up with him?” Grace asked, both of us look at Elvis walking away.
“I have no idea. He was fine a second ago.” I frowned, confusion etched on my face.
I headed over to the drinks table with Grace, grabbing a bottle of water and some chips. We talked for a bit but I kept looking for Elvis, he hadn’t come back yet and its been 10 minutes.
“Let’s go look for him.” Grace said, pulling me out of my daze.
“I-I’m sorry Grace.”
“It’s okay, let’s go look for him. He looked scared for some reason.”
Grace saw the look he had on his face too? So I wasn't just dreaming that?
Grace and I walked around, we went into the house. She checked upstairs while I checked the living room and kitchen.
“I don’t think he’s in the house.” Grace said walking down the stairs.
“You think he would leave the party?”
“No but where would he be? To clear his head or something.” Grace asked.
“He likes siting by the piano but he’s not here. Maybe by the pool, the only place he wouldn't be interrupted besides his room.” I said. We walked out and towards the pool, passing by the party. I could see from afar that the lights by the pool were off but still I felt like he could be there. As we walked closer I could see his figure sitting by the pool, his feet dipped into the water.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Grace squeezed my arm and walked off once she spotted Elvis.
“Hey.” I said softly once I was within hearing range.
He cleared his throat, quickly wiping at his face. Was he crying?
“Hey.” He whispered.
I reached down and untied my shoes, shoving my socks in my shoes and throwing them to the side. I took a seat next to him, dipping my feet into the cool pool water.
“Where’d you go?”
“Just-“ he sighed “Needed a break.”
“Why, what happened?” I asked, pushing him to tell what was going on inside his head.
“I really don't wanna talk right now Jess.” He replied, staring straight ahead.
“If you need someone to talk you, you could always talk to me.” I said, looking at him while he stared ahead.
“I can’t-“ He sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. I remained quiet, giving him time. He then slowly turned and looked at me, he grimaced staring at my hat “Will you please take off that damn hat?”
“I thought you liked me in a cowboy hat.” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“I-I do.” He sighed “But that hat. I hate it.” He whispered, his eyes darting from the hat to my eyes “Sorry, it’s just.” He gulped “When I saw you wearing it, it brought me back to that day.”
My heart stopped for a second. I completely forgot I was wearing this exact cowboy hat the day I fell off the horse.
“I don’t know why I reacted that way. It’s stupid, go back to the party Jess.” He turned away from me, looking down at his feet in the water.
“No, hey.” I placed my hand on his thigh and squeezed it gently “It’s not stupid. Sometimes our bodies just react, I get it. I’ll get rid of the hat if you want.” I smiled “But its the only cowboy hat I have.”
He chuckled, shaking his head “I’ll get you a thousand others. In every color if you want.”
I chuckled “Deal.” I said, taking my hat off and throwing it next to me.
“Let’s go back to the party?” I asked him.
“Yeah. You go ahead, I’ll sit here a bit.” He replied.
“Okay. I’ll wait for you by the drinks table.” I leaned forward, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Are you not tired?” He asked once I got my feet out of the water and stood up “You’ve had a long day.”
“I am but I feel bad ditching the party.”
He frowned “No, you should go get some sleep. No one is gonna care, they know you’re tired and still not feeling a hundred percent.”
“It’s fine. I can sleep later.” I shook my head.
Elvis got up “Let me take you to your room. Come on.” He said grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the house. Our shoes and my cowboy hat remained on the floor next to the pool.
I yawned as he walked hand in hand to the house. He walked me down the stairs to my room “Are you hungry?” He asked, stopping in front of my door.
“No, I’m just really sleepy.” I replied.
“Okay. You know what, maybe you should sleep upstairs in my room. That way I can check up on you if you need anything.” He said and started to pull me away from my room. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
“No, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I shook my head.
“Are you sure?” He frowned.
“Yes.” I smiled squeezing his hand.
“Okay.” He sighed “Good night.” He leaned forward, planting a kiss on the corner of my mouth. I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips so close to mine.
“Good night.” I replied and walked into my room, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the door and sighed. That was way too much stimulation for one day.
I was happy to be home. I was in a coma for three days and awake for two which equates to five days away from the comfort of my bed and bathroom. However, I was extremely grateful that it was only five days and not more. I went to bed after showering and getting dressed in a silk tank top and shorts pajama set.
I woke up feeling thirsty, opening my eyes I felt something stuck to my back. Looking down at my waist and saw an arm wrapped around my waist. My eyes widened, slowly lifting my head off the pillow and turning my head back to see Elvis asleep next to me, cuddled into me with his arm around my waist and his face buried into the back of my neck, my hair pushed to the side, sprawled over the pillow.
When did he come into my room? Why is he in my bed? Was he worried about me?
I didn't want to move incase I woke him up so I decided to ignore my thirst closing my eyes instead. Enjoying having his arms wrapped around me. I looked at the arm clock before shutting my eyes it was five in the morning. Both of us could use a little more sleep.
I went back to sleep, waking up a few hours later to an empty bed. Did I dream Elvis asleep next to me? No, the pillow next to mine was used, I don't really move around when I’m asleep. Plus, I could smell his scent on the pillow. Maybe its for the best he left before I woke up. I was feeling way more refreshed today, the dizziness from the past two days gone and it was easier to walk on my own. My legs only wobbled when I used the stairs.
The entire day I was ignored by Elvis or I would get one worded responses and it was starting to get on my nerves. He’s been so up and down, his emotions all over the place. One minute he’s cracking jokes, the next he’s angry. Now he’s ignoring me.
“Why are you ignoring me?” I asked walking into the TV room. He was on his own watching TV.
“I-I’m not.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the TV.
“Elvis.” I clenched my jaw “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” He got up, shutting the TV and went to walk out of the room but I sidestepped him, placing my body in front of the doorway so that he couldn't leave.
“Is this about last night? Because you slept in my bed?”
His cheeks flushed, crimson red “You know about that?” He mumbled.
“Yeah, I woke up in the middle of the night and you were asleep next to me.” I replied.
“I-I’m sorry, doll.” He said scratching the back of his neck “I just couldn't sleep and I was worried that you’d wake up and need something.”
My heart swelled, I was right. He was worried about me.
“Is that why you’re ignoring me?”
“I’m not ignoring you. Now can you please move?”
“No, you’re ignoring me.” I said, placing my hands on my waist.
“Okay, maybe I am!” He yelled.
“Okay, I wanna know why.”
“Because! It’s my fault!” He yelled “It’s my fault you're in this situation! It’s my fault you fell of the horse! I was careless and I should’ve never taken you out to the stables! And you should stay away from me!” He growled.
“Is that what this is all about? Elvis. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault, honey.” I said looking at him with wide eyes “It was an accident, please don’t blame yourself. It’s not going to help with anything.”
“You don't understand Jess.” His voice cracked, his eyes filling with unshed tears “You did not see what I saw. The way your head pounded on the sand, I wish you screamed, I wish you did something because the moment you hit the ground you were gone. It scared me to death, I felt like I was gonna get a heart attack at that moment. You-you were on the ground and you-you weren't waking up baby.” He said, tears streaming down his face as he openly cried for the first time in front of me. I've never seen him cry before, my heart broke seeing those tears in his beautiful ocean blue eyes. The tears making them seem even bluer that they originally are.
I gulped and cupped his cheeks, wiping his tears as they came down “Elvis, please. Don’t do that. What you did that day meant the world to me honey. It was my dream to be riding a horse and you gave me that. If anything it was my fault, I didn’t listen to your instructions and pushed you to do something you knew I wasn't ready for.”
He reached up and rubbed my forearms, tears still streaming down his face.
“I shouldn’t have listened to you, I should’ve know better but you do something to me Jess. I can never say no to you.” He whispered.
All logic was thrown out of the window. My eyes darted to his lips, I quickly leaned forward and smashed my lips on his. He moaned, kissing me back. His hands cupping my cheeks as he deepened the kiss. He bit down on my lips asking for entrance. I moaned, opening my mouth. Our tongues fighting for dominance.
“Fuck baby.” He said over my lips, pulling away slightly to breathe then smashed his lips back on mine passionately.
“Elvis.” I moaned when he thrusted his pelvis to mine, feeling his hard on against my leg “I need you.”
He groaned “Jess. Jess. You don’t know how much I want you. I need you honey”
“Then take me.” I panted, pulling away from him. He grinned down at me. I was out of breath then I felt the whole world spin. I gasped, grabbing on Elvis’ arm.
“Woah, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, worry etched on his face. His eyes darting between mine. I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping Elvis tightly.
“I-I don’t know. I feel dizzy.”
“Come on, sit down.” Elvis said and pulled me to the couch “Let me get you some water, lie down.”
I lied down placing my feet up on the couch as Elvis quickly jogged up the stairs to the kitchen to get me some water. I don't know what happened, I was feeling better earlier but my dizziness came back and at the worst time.
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Any day...
Book: Open Heart (Post Series)
Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey) Feat: Bryce Lahela
Rating: Teen
Category: Fluff
Summary: Casey & Tobias share a simple morning as they wait for their first baby's arrival, which is only a short time away.
Words: 797
A/N: ME: Work on your WIPs only. You have a zillion WIPs out there. ALSO ME: OMG, My pretend people's baby is going to be born a week from today! I need to write something about this! And here we are. lol | @aprilchallenge - Family, Love, Kiss
It was 7:00 AM on an unseasonably warm Boston morning; the mercury was already reaching the low seventies. If these were normal times, Casey would have blamed the heat for waking her at such an ungodly hour on a day she didn’t have to work. But that wasn’t what had her stirring today, and normal… that was about to take on new meaning. She wrapped one arm protectively around her belly as the other pushed against her bolster pillow for support.
“There,” she gasped with relief, reminding herself that, very soon, getting out of bed would no longer require a plan of action.
She wondered where her husband was for a moment, but then the scent of butter and cinnamon filled her senses, and it seemed to elicit a kick from the alien that had invaded her body. With a soft chuckle, she lovingly rubbed the spot that had just been pummeled.
“So, do you like French toast too, little one?” she asked. “I figure you’re going to either love it or hate it since Mommy’s eaten so much these past few months. I’m sure Daddy’s sick of making it, even if he won’t admit it.”
She cautiously descended the stairs, startling her husband, who was preparing a breakfast tray in the kitchen.
“Case!” He blurted. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“You expect me to stay up there when it smells this good down here?” She winked. “Do you even know me, sir?”
Tobias tilted his head with a smirk. He found her utterly adorable, even when he was about to give her a tongue-lashing.
“I was about to bring it up to you, wise ass. Now, you’re a brilliant doctor, Casey. So what part of bed rest did you not understand?”
“I’m an exceptional doctor! So outstanding that I know bed rest is a relative term, dear.” She plopped into a chair at their kitchen table, motioning for Tobias to bring her the delectable breakfast he had prepared. “And you know that, too. The doctor said partial bedrest, not all day, every day.”
With a sigh, Tobias placed the breakfast before her, “You can’t fault me for looking out for you and our baby.”
After he sat beside her, she gently touched his wrist to reassure him. “I know. And you know I won’t do anything to endanger us either.”
“I know,” he squeezed her hand with a grin.
“I can’t believe I’m on bed rest!” Casey pouted. “I wasn’t planning on this. Then again,” she chuckled. “We hadn’t planned any of this, did we?”
“No, we didn’t. Just like you and I meeting was unplanned, what did that card I gave you on the night of our elopement say?”
“You’re the best thing I never planned,” Casey beamed.
“That’s right. Life happens, but we’ll face it together. I don’t love you being on bed rest, but everything else has been pretty awesome.” He bent over and kissed Casey’s belly, then moved up to tenderly kiss her lips. “I know you’ve got to keep her cooking in there a little longer, but I really can’t wait to meet her.”
“She’s going to keep us on our toes,” Casey smiled, nuzzling her head into Tobias’s shoulder.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he simpered. “We’re going to be all right, you know.”
Casey looked up at him with joyful eyes, more at peace than he had seen in her in some time. “I know,” she said confidently. “It’s you and me.”
“Do you think the baby will wait until her due date?” She asked.
“If she’s as impatient as her Mom and Dad, not a chance. That reminds me, I have to talk to Bryce. He’s starting the birth date pool at work. They won’t let me bet because I have insider knowledge. Can you imagine the audacity?”
“And he wonders why he’s not Godfather?” Casey laughed.
“Yeah, but we should make him Godfather for number two. You know, to make up for you destroying his washing machine.”
“Me!” Casey hollered. “If I remember correctly, you were at least fifty-percent responsible for that, Dr. Carrick.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “but it was fun, and he did get a new washer out of the deal.”
“That he did,” Casey nodded.
“Now let’s finish your breakfast before it gets cold, then back to bed, or I’m calling your doctor to rat you out.”
“Ugh, you would,” she teased, shoveling the last of the French toast into her mouth. “You know, we’re going to be OK, T.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, taking the time to enjoy the simple perfection of it all.
“I know,” he said, kissing her forehead. “In fact, we’re going to be better than OK. We’re going to be amazing.”
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#open heart fanfic#choices fanfic#open heart choices#choices open heart#open heart#tobias carrick#tobias carrick x mc#tobias x casey
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Hello Dear Skippy !
I loved your old people post ! Today is my birthday - I am officially 63 yrs old. I say officially because for some reason for most all of last year I thought I was 63 and then someone would correct me and remind me I was 62.
I haven't agonized about getting older since my late 40s.. firmly believing it is a true blessing to get older because so many wonderful people are not given that chance. I will admit that I continued to color my medium to dark brown hair with blonde highlights until last March, I wish I had stopped sooner because now I have a few thick bands of my natural color bordered by areas streaked white and gray from about my ears back . Around my face, I have almost all white for my bangs left of my center part and on the right side my bangs are streaks of white, gray and my natural color and my hair from eye level down framing my face is whitish/blonde. I love mother nature's color choices better than anything applied at the salon !
At some point over the last couple of years, I have let go of a lot of the trivial issues that used to worry me. I do worry about ageing ... not getting older but ageing and how quickly 20 years can fly by - I would be 83. I worry about who will look after my daughter with CRPS and how my youngest is only 28 yrs old and how much I hope I am still around when he turns 60. That leads me to worrying about how much care I might need at 95 and then I tell myself to stop counting down the future and enjoy the moments I have now.
You are aware that sometimes my life gets very busy and often stressful with 5 kids and 4 grandchildren and extended family.. and I get tired and moan about needing some "me" time but I cherish every minute of it. Every day, I am here to be a mom, grandma, sister, cousin, aunt and friend is a cherished gift.
Truth be told - these days my most worrying thought of the day is trying to decide if I want to lose 10 lbs to better fit into my clothes or gain 10 lbs to better fit into my wrinkles.. lolol
A Very Happy Birthday to you my dear friend! I do understand losing or gaining a yr or two, now and then. I do it myself. I have to consciously tell myself how old I am.
Yes, you are so right, Mother Nature does amazing things with our hair. I did have Covid hair like the other anon mentioned. Then when I could get it coloured again, I went and had it done. It seemed to take forever, and then I decided I had no patience to sit in the chair. So stopped. I do get a “spit and shine” (as I call it).
Worrying about loved ones when we are gone. You know, I remember talking with my dad about that. He told me this…”when I am gone to heaven, God will make sure to keep things running down here for you”. Life will keep going when I am gone. God will have everything already figured out for everyone”.
I can remember asking my mom once in awhile….”what will I do when you are gone?”…..she would say..”you will be ok”. When she was in the hospital dying, one night I asked her “what will I do when you are gone.?” She said “I don’t know”. Well, when she said that I froze, it seriously scared me. Then I realized she didn’t know. She couldn’t know. Only God knew what I would do without her. After she passed, I felt her with me…I still do. My sister told me to “always remember whose daughter I am, because that is what will keep me going”. We can’t spend time worrying about our loved ones after we are gone. If we do that, it will take away the real pleasure we have with them. Fear of the unknown is sneaky. It can overtake us and paralyze us….we have to let it go, we have trust that God will take care of them, as he took care of us when we have lost our parents. It will be ok.
I don’t spend anytime worrying about clothes….if they don’t fit…it is the dryer’s fault. Wrinkles? No, I don’t do wrinkles. If you believe they exist…they will show up! They don’t exist in my mind. Not allowed! Love and hugs to you! Happy Birthday!
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Scrawled on the first blank page of a stolen spellbook:
Day 1:
Already working on a way to get you back; some rich old lady knows a way to get the magic we’re gonna need. She reminds me of that shitty “migration and language” professor you had, so you can imagine how much fun dealing with her has been.Met a weirdo in a mask who you’re gonna hate, and a little illiterate wizard who’s gonna give you a heart attack. Also been dealing with the burgermeister’s swaggering little attack dog, and you know how I prefer to deal with guys like that. I’d say you’ll hate him too, but I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna have the chance to meet him. Shame.
Stupid how quick I forgot how to not miss you. I hated you for decades, and having you back for a week was enough to ruin all that hard work. Really appreciate that, Hugh.
Day 2:
Almost died today. Figured you’d want to know, so you can yell at me about it later. In fairness, it was because I was trying to be a good person. I could have just taken Kai and left, but I didn’t.…thought about doing it, though.
Didn’t fucking matter in the end, but I guess I wanted you to know that too. That I tried to do the right thing.
Anyway. Ireena’s dead. Turns out vampires here only know one trick; pick a fight nobody wants, kill one person, and leave.
Izek’s(1) dead too though at least, so let’s count our victories where we find them.
And then. And fucking then. That rich old bitch who’s supposed to help me get you back? Decided that our deal is off, because she got Strahd to do her dirty work for her. And then she had the fucking audacity to lock me up in her stupid, ugly house. I’m writing this now to keep from going to town with my crowbar in here until something happens. You’ll have to excuse me if my handwriting is shit right now; I’m fucking furious.
…I can’t believe this smug, entitled dickhead is keeping me from spending the night with you.
…I’m gonna pry up a floorboard and take a shit down there.
(1)Sorry. Izek is the ‘swaggering little attack dog’ from before. Dropped his name with a lot of confidence there before remembering I’d given exactly zero context. Thank god I had so fucking long to sit and proofread this thing tonight!
Day 3
Got screwed over for having a shred of empathy for someone who just lost someone they cared about. Started to forget that I’m the only one here who gives a shit about saving you but don’t worry: I got a swift kick-in-the-dick reminder and now my head’s back on straight. Not making that mistake again.
Strahd showed up in Vallaki which, I cannot stress enough, is not my fault. Not for lack of trying! But I didn’t get to help kill the burgermeister or hand over the anti-vampire bones. This mess is deeply, entirely, not my fault.
Anyway. He made it clear that he calls the shots there now, and you know what? Say what you will about the guy, but he knows how to make a fucking entrance and command a crowd. I bet his Lang201 students never fall asleep during his lectures.
At least one good thing came of today: got to see one of the consorts(2) beat to shit and left to die. Other than that we picked up another stray (this one had a huge book of Barovian history; you know I started tearing through it immediately), fought some fucked up werewolves, and… oh yeah! Got backed into a corner and forced to waste a day helping out this random family and their vineyard, instead of going to Krezek after dropping Uke off. Like we had planned. Like I said, kick-in-the-dick reminder.
I don’t care what anyone has to say about it; I’m going to Krezk. Alone, if it comes to it. I’m not chasing after some fucking- gem, or whatever. They can figure it out on their own.
(2)Not Antonio. The one who killed Ireena, who I would have loved for you to meet. God, that would have been great.
…great for me, that is. You would have hated her. And I would have loved that.
Day 4
I won’t admit that it was a fun fight. You’re going to be the only person who ever reads these, but I still won’t give them that satisfaction. As far as they get to know, I was mad to be forced to go and grumpy the whole time I was there. And to be clear; I was. Mad about it, that is. But it’s…fine. Because I’m so fucking nice, I’ll be the bigger person and let it go. We’re heading to Krezk in the morning, so at least we’re back on track.
Oh by the way, I took Dylan to get a tattoo for her last birthday. She said she wasn’t gonna tell you until she moved out, but she told me I could tell you if we ever spent twenty minutes together without fighting. She was obviously joking, but here we are. We’re well past twenty minutes, I think.
It’s a little rainbow beetle on her bicep. It’s pretty cute, I think she did the sketch herself. She handled the whole thing like a champ.
Day 5
Spent most of today traveling to Krezk. Spent the rest of the day in Krezk. Great stuff.
Going to see the Abbot tomorrow. Supposedly he's the guy that can fix you, and I’m gonna knock him around until he does. See you soon, hopefully. I’m getting bored of journaling.
Day 6
Fuck them. Fucking spineless, brainless, self-righteous cowards. Sanctimonious hypocrites. Bastards.
I don’t answer to them. If they think that I’m going to bow down and let them rip this chance away from me without fighting back, they got another fucking think coming.
I’m not leaving Krezk without you. And I’ll burn the bridges I have to to make it happen.
forget he exists when you look away stay focused
writing in notebook. about us? followed us
[The writing is jumbled, scattered and hard to read]
puts thoughts in your head
Forget he exists when you look away
[Crosswritten with the previous line, illegible]
trades in secrets? knowledge? have to assume he takes it. BAD IDEA
Day 7
I didn’t write that.
No. Obviously I did. I hacked through my t’s at that annoying angle I picked up from you, and looped the l’s together in that way I picked up to annoy you. No one else has breathed on this thing in the last week. Obviously, I wrote it.
But I don’t remember doing it.
Am I going
Alright, alright. No point freaking out about it; let’s take it one step at a time. Way I see it, there’s three explanations:
Someone took and wrote in your spellbook since the last time I opened it, which was earlier this afternoon (found your weird Elder Tongue transcription by the way. You’re gonna be so mad if I crack it without you)
I’m not I’m starting to My mind isn’t reliable. Unlikely.
I wrote it, I’m right, and there’s a creepy little pervert skulking around the shadows.
Number one’s impossible, the only time your spellbook isn’t in my holster is if I’m writing in it. Leaves two and three, and between one where I’m losing my mind and I’m not, well. If there’s one brain I trust, it’s mine.
Day 8
You’ll never guess who showed his stupid, ugly face again.
Mhm. That’s right.
Y’know, I’ve been thinking about it the last few days, what I’d do when we ran into him again. I thought I might try to play it cool, not give him the satisfaction of having got to me. Get in some quips about not having to pay alimony anymore, or about getting full custody of the kids. I don’t know. But when I saw him, I just- I saw red. I didn’t hear a word out of his mouth, I just. I just shot him. And hit him. Over and over and it felt
Did it feel good? We didn’t kill him. I don’t think we came close. He almost killed Zavisza. Would have too, if Strahd hadn’t shown up to monologue at us again. He wants one of our tagalongs (both of them, technically, I guess. We gotta stop taking in strays) and instead of just letting him have the guy he wants (So sorry to see you go! Best of luck! We’ll miss you! Etc.) our stupid, self-important paladin and his dumbass little savior complex—
I can’t even put how stupid it is into words. Thank fuck I’m lucky enough that you’re going to be unlucky enough to have to sit through it with me. You’ll see. You’ll be just as annoyed as I am.
But. Apparently, there’s a scroll of Raise Dead in the ruins of a swamp town south of Vallaki. This is it, Hugh. This is- It has to be. It has to be. We’re going to go to this stupid swamp, we’re going to find this woman and take her scroll, and I’m gonna fix you.
See you soon.
Day 9
Another travel day. You should be proud of how responsible I was, even with Flips trying his hardest to get us killed by goading us on into the swamp tonight. We’re camping out here on the edge, and we’ll head in fresh in the morning. If nothing else goes wrong (one can dream), I’ll get my hands on that scroll and have you back tomorrow.
And, well. When something does go wrong, let’s at least hope it’s a quick detour. Because otherwise, we’re going back to Plan D(3).
(3)The “D” is for “De-face”, of course. Look, it made me laugh. You can lecture me about that joke being in poor taste tomorrow.
Day 10
Berez is, uh. Was, I guess. Berez was
It was a shitshow. Who cares.
Almost got myself hanged when we went back to
I mean. Who fucking cares.
Hugh, I’m scared. Terrified. Everything has gone wrong every step of the way to get you back, and this is going to be the same. Borris was dead when we got here, the scroll was gone. Who’s to even say it’ll actually be in this stupid tower when we get there? What if someone else has used it? Burned it? What if it doesn’t work, if resurrection just doesn’t work here? What if it does work but you come back wrong? Hurt? Broken? A rat?? What if this was all for nothing?
If I keep saying “tomorrow”, eventually I’ll be right.
#when your wife is killed in front of you and you're handling it soooo so well. ahah#ransom kitwell#cos2#mine#word count: 1792#me tossing this bit out the window now that allie is back and i don't have her spellbook anymore: Good riddance!!!
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Only a few people can understand that visceral disgust when you're looking at a person who's meant to mean you well and all you can see reflected in their eyes is the epitome of evil. If they could tear me apart and build me to be an exact replica of them, they would. If they could feed me acid day in and day out until nothing that makes me me remains, they would. If they could kill me and blame it on me and get away with it, they would. But of course, they hide their intentions behind well-meaning words and snide comments about how if only i changed one tiny thing, I would be worth more (it is never just one tiny thing) (and it is never just one tiny thing)
Like i am a commodity, and perhaps to them I am. To them who only see me as a tool that costs to maintain and doesn't give them enough value back, I am a dangerous thing to have. My words and my behaviour and my thoughts are much too ugly. They speak of a person they did not have a hand in moulding. In forcing into their fold. They see a stranger. Or worse. They see my mother in my stead. So they make sure to say how much I look like them. How if it were not for them I would not be half the person I am today. If one did not know them, one would believe they mean well. I know them. I know them well. If they could bill me for everything they’ve ever done for me, they would.
To feed me and to give me a place to sleep these four days proves too steep of a price so they must see a return and they must see one quickly. To see their only relative in so long, in ten years! It's only a reason to attack. Since they have to buy me a meal and since I'm not paying them to stay over in a stale bedroom with dusty decor, with claustrophobia inducing suffocation, then that means that I have to pretend to be their perfect replica. But my glasses are wrong you see I look so much nicer without them. I need to start wearing contacts. But my voice is too loud, why do I need to raise it? Why am I so annoyed? Why am I so neurotic? This is all my mother's fault. She poisoned me against them, yet why is it that they continously fill my blood with shit? Why is it that now that I am an adult and can see the situation clearly, they are even worse than what my mother shielded me from?
I went on vacation to visit a friend and then to be kind, to be polite and well behaved I only made the mistake of telling you. So you invited me to come, and I took you up on it, not thinking that every waking second would be an attack or a battle of some kind. Against enemies who, to be fair, have not changed at all since I was a child. Who, to be fair, still think I am that same child.
My friends made me sick. It wasn’t their words. The train to them made me sick. It wasn't their hate wrapped up in sarcasm. All intellectuals use sarcasm, of course, didn’t I know? But family is supposed to be kind. Where is your kindness, intellectual? Must my body resort to fever just so I can sleep and not listen to you? Must the only times you show concern be when I may die.
It keeps rising. It doesn't go lower. They don't mention the hospital or the doctor, because it might go down and it might not be another unecessary cost.
And the fever doesn't break and I keep hoping it'll last throughout the night and throughout the day and just so I don't have to hear them. That they can't infect me with their words, if they’ve already succeeded with their illness. And they are ill, because I saw a whole dresser shelf lined top to bottom left to right with medicine packages. But when it's time for them to give you medicine to lower your fever they deliberate, they debate, they all but fight between themselves because they have so few packages of the stuff. Can they waste it on you?
So you say, just barely, just hoping to survive one more night with them, hoping that your fever will break and you can go on your plane home: I'll pay for it. I'll give you money. Just get me meds.
Oh, they take such offence. Because you read them to filth. You know they would charge you the stale air they have if they could, but they are prisoners of politeness just as much as you are. So it is a crime and an insult to ask for someone to go buy you meds. They will buy it. They will give me everything they have.
The fever breaks after days. I am leaving tomorrow morning.
They are pretending to be sick now. That i have infected them. Yet you remember while you were sick how delighted they were that your plans changed. You had some friends you wanted to see in their city also. But you couldn't on account of dying. So they smirk and they laugh and they tease with words that sound so putridly villainous and cliche you think a child has written them: You wanted to see your little friends? You wanted to go out and have fun on the town? Well, you can't :) You're stuck here now, hee hee.
As if it's their greatest wish materialized. As if spending time with them 24/7 is what they crave. To hollow me out into a husk to burrow deep inside me and puppeter me. To steal my strength and my youth.
The fever breaks and I see them.
My lungs still wheeze. My strength is not yet back.
You have not had a problem with your lungs in ten years. The doctor is baffled as he conducts tests to check for covid and it's negative. Your blood is fine. Perfect. Your lungs are not well. Have you had problems with them in the past?
Only as a child, you answer. And what a surprise that is. That you were always at your weakest when they were around.
Cutting them off had been the smartest thing you'd done. Why did you come back? What possessed you to think that it was smart?
Oh. You think. Ten years had passed. I am an adult, perhaps they will see it as such, too. And we can mend our ways.
It's a victory to survive and to leave. Not really.
I have not won, but I have survived against your greatest attempts to kill me. I have left and I am home and I will never let you in. I will never file my teeth down for your benefit when your teeth remain, broken off because you are sick, you are decaying, you are old , sharp in my lungs. If you had only had more time with me, perhaps you would have even found my heart and you would have struck.
But I am home now. I am away. You send me messages telling me you miss me already. I am covered in sweat and blood and my lungs wheeze. And you say you miss me. But be sure, I am no longer the child who believes you. And i am no longer the adult that forgot what you were capable of.
I do not miss you.
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I wrote a post recently about how, the more I get into live stand-up comedy, the more the contrived nature of TV comedy bothers me. It’s not that I didn’t see it before, it just didn’t seem like a problem, until I started hearing comedy shows that were entirely written by the person performing them and had those as a basis for comparison. It makes some of the stuff I used to like a bit harder to listen to, now.
I’ve been re-watching some old episodes of The Mash Report/Late Night Mash lately, and interestingly, I’ve found that hasn’t happened with that.
It’s sometimes a bit awkward and stilted when Nish is reading an autocue, because someone reading an autocue is always a bit awkward. But it’s not that bad. Normally on TV, when one comedian laughs really hard at another comedian’s joke, I think 1) I’ve heard that comedian make that joke on other panel shows before, you’ve definitely heard it before too, and 2) even if you hadn’t heard it before, you would have heard it in rehearsal, right? You can’t be surprised at what happens in a show that you rehearsed before filming it.
But when Nish corpses, I do tend to believe him. Because I’m pretty sure Nish Kumar’s just like that. Doesn’t matter if he heard the joke in rehearsal already. Nish Kumar finds everything funny, and will let you know that. I think there might have been a time when I thought Nish was maybe, slightly, occasionally playing up his loud and generous laughter for attention on TV. But I’m now pretty convinced it’s real, more so than most of what you’ll see on TV. If he’s faking that, it’s a very successful long con, he has committed to the bit hard.
Anyway, I re-watched Late Night Mash s01e04 today, and God that show was good. Here are some clips of it that feature three comedians whom I now very much like as stand-ups: Olga Koch (I’ve heard four of her stand-up hours in the last couple of weeks, enjoyed all of them, have quickly become a fan), Ahir Shah (winner of the award for best Edinburgh show of 2023, I’ve heard quite a few 2023 Edinburgh shows and agree with the judges’ pick, as well as having a huge soft spot for his 2019 show because 1) I really enjoyed watching it, and 2) it’s what convinced me to go back on anxiety meds so I do briefly think of him every night when I take a cocktail of pills), and Nish Kumar (eighth wonder of the world, based on some of the stand-up he’s been trying out lately he’s got a good shot at my favourite stand-up hour of 2024). None of them came across on this show as too manufactured, as something I can’t enjoy because they’re more contrived than they are in stand-up. I think The Mash Report(/Late Night Mash) was doing something well, in letting their actual talent come through.
youtube
Olga's segment had a lot of stuff from her actual stand-up show in that year, presented in a way that I thought, if anything, worked even better than it did in her filmed special.
And as for Ahir’s bits, I’d like to say – aw, it’s okay, Ahir, in a couple of years you won’t be able to do jokes about whether it’s the government’s fault that you’re single, because you’ll do a beautiful emotionally moving stand-up show that involves discussing your upcoming marriage (a marriage that I believe happened within the last couple of weeks, so good for him, try to keep any cheating on her to fewer than three years, Ahir, because some people have disappointed me lately and I need to be able to believe in something).
To be fair, the part in that clip about how he likes the idea of being a dad but would really rather be an uncle due to less commitment, was a less good version of the quote from the end of his 2019 Edinburgh show: “All I want from life is to be sat in a room with a glass of wine and a book and a fire, and I have a family but they’re not there.” I really recommend watching the stand-up special that closes with that line (Ahir Shah’s Dots, 2019 Edinburgh show filmed in 2021, that show also has the pearl of wisdom that going off anti-depressants “is a pro-depressant” and might be worth reversing) a month or so after breaking up with your girlfriend because you had a crisis of mental health and realized you love having people in your life but struggle with the actual ordeal of tolerating other people’s actual presence for long periods of time. Solid thing to watch at that point. It’ll fuck you up.
Anyway, how did I get onto this subject? I’m doing fine, definitely not getting a second wave of sadness about a breakup that I really had gotten mostly over but it was a year ago this month and the things that the weather is doing are reminding me of what happened last year during this month when the weather did the same thing. Definitely not making it so an innocent post about The Mash Report has somehow found its way onto that subject. It’s fine.
The point is The Mash Report was a good show. I’ve checked, I’ve watched all the other ones, and that one was good. I’ve been listening to a lot of Alan Partridge lately, and recently heard him say he’s sorry to leave the BBC now (in Big Beacon, an audiobook that was published in late 2023), since it’s only just becoming the way he likes it, with lots of conservatives (I think the character meant it with a small C, the authors clearly meant it with a capital C) in executive roles. It was, to be honest, a bit of a clunky moment in an overall great body of writing. A moment that felt a little more like the authors using the character as a mouthpiece, than something he’d genuinely say (not that that doesn’t line up with Alan Partridge’s established worldview, it just didn’t sound like how he’d put it). However, those authors definitely had a point. Fuck the people who canceled this show. (And Dave, to be fair the above clips are from Late Night Mash and it was actually Dave that canceled that, after the BBC canceled The Mash Report and then Dave gave it two Late Night Mash seasons before putting getting rid of it for real, but still fuck them.)
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Bad Things Happen Bingo: Distress Call
TW: Domestic violence, victim blaming for the same, implied self-injury, family death and abandonment, abusive employment relationship.
*****
Voicemail from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 05-25-2026 at 20:23 MST:
“Hi Dad. I know you won’t get this, but. Sometimes I’m glad this voicemail is still up. Pretty dumb, huh? Anyways. Things are going really well here. The Director’s already promoting me to Lead Technician! He might even be having me write part of his next paper for a journal. Man, I’d love to see the look on my teachers’ faces now. Fuck those guys, right? The experiments can be pretty intense, but I’m managing. It’s all gonna make things better for everyone in the end, right? Anyways. Talk to you — well. I’ll call again soon. I. I miss you. Bye.”
—
Text message exchange between ALICIA JACOBSON and BARCLAY FLETCHER on 09-21-2026 between 17:15 and 17:35 MST:
“Hi! You on your way?”
“sorry can’t make it running behind with work”
“You said that the last time too”
“Look I was hoping to talk to you about this today so I’ll just say it here”
“Maybe it’s none of my business but I read that paper you wrote and”
“Did you really test that on PEOPLE???”
“you’re right it really isn’t your business”
“I’m worried about you”
“well don’t be”
“You’re not like this”
“i’m not like i was in school you mean”
“good”
“i was headed nowhere before the director picked me”
“That’s not true”
“anyway i’ve got a meeting with him now gotta go”
“give me a call when you’re not going to lecture me”
“Look if you ever need help getting out, just let me know, okay???”
“I’ll always be here for you if you need me”
“Love you”
—
Voicemail from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 01-14-2027 at 19:55 MST:
“Hey, um, Dad… [Yawn.] It’s been a while. But I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference, right? Ha… It’s been kind of rough. Not — nothing I can’t handle, I mean. Just, one of those things downstairs went and bit me the other day. Can you believe that? It just fucking bit me. Don’t worry, I taught it a lesson. The bite still hurts like hell, though. Eh, I’ll deal. I’m going to present at this big genetics conference next week about the paper I just finished. My name was even on it! Pretty cool, huh? Anyway, if I do well, I’m hoping the Director will cut me some slack over the whole… I won’t get into it. But then, if you could really hear this, maybe you’d have some advice. Anyway. Bye for now.”
—
from BARCLAY FLETCHER to ALICIA JACOBSON on 10-28-2027 at 14:33 MST:
“hey sorry for falling off the face of the earth”
“can we tlak”
“* talk (haven’t slept in 4 days now haha)”
“look i can’t talk about it here but its kind of important”
—
Call from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 10-28-2027 at 23:46 MST:
I’m sorry, the voicemail box for the person you’re calling is currently full. Please try again later.
“…Fuck.”
—
Voicemail from BARCLAY FLETCHER to MELISSA BENNETT on 11-14-2027 at 20:01 MST:
“Hey Mom? So… It’s been a while. I know... I know it didn’t go great last time. But could you maybe give me a call? I. I need to talk about something. After the stuff you told me about last time, I just hoped you might know what to do. If I’m blowing this out of proportion, or… I just need to talk, okay?! I know you’re mad at Dad, but he’s dead, and it’s not my fucking fault if he did the kind of things you said. I was a kid. So maybe cut me some slack and give me a chance. Please. Or don’t, I guess. Love you. Bye.”
—
Text message exchange between MELISSA BENNETT and BARCLAY FLETCHER on 11-14-2027 between 20:05 and 20:11 MST:
“Don’t call me again.”
“are you kidding”
“you couldn’t even work up the guts to “ —
Your message could not be sent.
“seriously?”
Your message could not be sent.
“you said all this stuff about dad, abuse this cheating that, acting like you’re better or whatever. guess what though you’re not”
Your message could not be sent.
“good people don’t give up on their kids”
Your message could not be sent.
“you know what, maybe dad did hit you. can’t blame him”
Your message could not be sent.
“fucking bitch”
Your message could not be sent.
—
Messages from BARCLAY FLETCHER to ALICIA JACOBSON on 11-14-2027 at 20:15-20:17 MST:
“so it’s like that then”
“‘oh I’ll always be there barclay if you need out of there just call me barclay barclay please let me help~’”
“guess that was all bullshit”
“so bye”
—
Message from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 12-25-2027 at 21:21-21:23 MST:
“hey dad I tried calling a while back but your vm box is full (my fault haha)”
This number is out of service.
“guess this is really it huh”
This number is out of service.
“love you”
This number is out of service.
—
Draft message from BARCLAY FLETCHER to MELISSA BENNETT, last modified on 12-31-2027 at 21:55 MST:
“you’re probably not going to get this but I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it I just get stressed out and it makes me say some stupid shit and okay wow when I say it like that I wouldn’t talk to me either so nevermind”
—
“Clay?”
Barclay didn’t move from his position of being slumped forward in his seat as he clutched the phone in his shaking hand. The Director’s voice was kind, concerned even, but Barclay didn’t want his mentor seeing him like this, and he didn’t trust his voice not to break if he said anything.
He startled when a stray tear drop hit the screen with an audible plop.
“Clay, what’s wrong? Here, let me see,” Richardson insisted, pulling the phone from his hand.
Barclay didn’t resist.
“Oh, Clay…” the Director said as he scrolled through his texts, his voice filled with concern. Or disappointment. “I hate seeing you hurt yourself like this.”
Barclay ducked his head and shoved his hands under his armpits, hoping the Director wouldn’t ask to see his wrists. “It’s fine, sir. Really,” he muttered.
The Director stopped scrolling at a certain point, and for a second he scowled down at his protegé.
Barclay closed in on himself further, bracing for the worst.
The Director’s expression softened. “I can’t let you keep doing this,” he said in a firm but gentle tone, pocketing the phone. “You deserve better that to have such unreliable people in your life.”
“But…!” Barclay protested, jerking his head up to look at the Director with wide eyes.
The Director cocked an eyebrow in warning, though his kind smile remained unchanged.
“O-of course. Thank you, sir,” Barclay quickly corrected himself, looking back down with a tense smile.
He should be happy. The Director, at least, was still there for him, no matter how many times he’d screwed up. So the rest of it… it was all worth it, right?
—
Messages from ALICIA JACOBSON to BARCLAY FLETCHER on 06-17-2028 at 16:42 MST:
“OMG I’m so sorry. Are you OK???”
“I just saw this”
“A lot of stuff happened. I had to get a new phone. I’ll tell you all about it”
“Whenever you want to talk”
“My offer still stands by the way”
“Barclay???”
“I don’t know if you’re getting these, but please be OK. Love you lots”
This number is out of service.
*****
Director David Richardson and Alicia Jacobson are @skinofafish’s characters. Barclay Fletcher, Jason Fletcher, and Melissa Bennett are my characters.
#bad things happen bingo#creepy whumper#distress call#Barclay Fletcher#Director David Richardson#whump writing#The Enclave#tw domestic violence#tw victim blaming#tw self injury#tw abusive work environment
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Rotten Judgement – On foreshadowing (II)
Following our series of hints in the narration, and to celebrate the new chapter, today I’m going to talk about:
The foreshadowing about Eren’s marriage proposal to Mikasa when he was 17, and his rejection.
The marriage topic was something I had had in mind until “I did not live until today”. The proto-idea of my first fic included a scene like this—the character of “Eren” knocking on “Mikasa”’s door to confess—so I was really up to writing this upgraded scene. However, as one of my goals was to dose the information, I had to make it clear from the beginning, but not too clear so that when it came to chapter 11, it would still surprise the reader.
Given, I still think that if this had been a novel and was read all together, the hints would have been clearer (maybe!) and with retrospect, I would have had to make it even clearer so that the readers would remember these hints. But I didn’t, so here I am, reminiscing.
Eren’s first rejection
To introduce Eren’s complex guilt about bullying Mikasa and also trying to protect her, it was crucial that he’d have to reject her. That way, Mikasa could have some pent-up anger towards him, and then his confession would be misunderstood by her—she would be thinking, “Is he confessing because he feels sorry for me?” But in reality, Eren was proposing because he always loved her, but he was late.
Eren’s rejection is first introduced in one of the first paragraphs of the story, from Armin’s pov: “One would be pretty stupid to reject her, and Armin knows just the guy.” After that, when Eren and Mikasa meet in Chapter 2, Eren’s motivation, guilt and sadness are already set very straight-forward: “to get to the third date before thinking what it would have been if he had not been a prick, if he had not been so late.”
In Chapter 4 we even get much more information about Mikasa’s confession and how it happened: “he could have never imagined that he would hurt her so deeply —that he would say no and she would run down the stairs from the rooftop; that he would mouth the joke and would see how her eyes watered. […] all puddle, all guilt, and, above all, all Mikasa.”
But after Eren’s rejection comes Mikasa’s anger and hate, and it was important to introduce this too so that the reader would know that Mikasa held a grudge against him. I decided to do that from Eren’s POV, because even if Mikasa thought about the moment she confessed, that confession towards Eren was overwritten by the bullying after, Armin’s experience and the proposal three years after: “She humiliated him in front of everyone, that wrench —with that beautiful, gentle smile of hers. He hates her. Eren definitely hates her-who-must-not-be-named.” [Chapter 1] Eren needs to believe that Mikasa hated him because of the rejection, and not because of the bullying, because he doesn’t want to come to terms with what he did. If he does, then it crumbles him, because he acknowledges how bad he hurt Mikasa—much further than a simple rejection: “he remembers himself being the victim of that hate, never quite believing that it had come to this, even if he had every hint that of course—it was my fault, it was my fault—she would break his heart at his turn.” [Chapter 5]
The topic of “providing”
One of the toxic ideologies of Eren is that the husband needs to provide for the wife and family. That comes from Grisha’s beliefs, and it completely sets the mood for his love for Mikasa. Since he’s little, Eren knows that Mikasa is poor: when he proposes to adopt her to Carla and Grisha back in chapter 3, they tell him that she’s not an object to keep, so Eren knows that he has to work harder to keep Mikasa in his life. When he elaborates his—childish, yes—plan to protect her from Floch by hurting her, he only has in mind Mikasa’s protection and providing:
“(Grisha) It’s in our blood to provide for someone, Eren.” […] Eren doesn’t believe in providing, in marriage—that he has long forgotten these are his solutions because he thought so hard once that they were, he ended up broken. […] He could tell Grisha that he got onto his knees some years ago. He could tell Grisha that Mikasa is back.” [Chapter 10]
The topic of providing is understood differently by both of them. While for Mikasa, providing means mostly economically, Eren understands providing as something whole. Back in chapter 4, we see how Eren is a care-giver and we get a first glimpse of the scene of the orphanage: “Or the way his smile tilts every time he can provide for someone —being it helping Connie with a massage […] and then the stairs changing, morphing in the dream into some porch stairs, in which Mikasa is standing above him, looking at him with tear-streaked cheeks, and Eren is crying, and they are both three years older than they were in that dream, young, utopian, and she says, You’re quite late, now, Eren.”
Also in chapter 4, before that paragraph, Levi acknowledges Mikasa’s problem with providing: “’You have a problem with providing, Mikasa’, he chooses to say, instead of berating her further. She blushes, tries to hide her face in her exposed neck. ‘You don’t like depending on people, and that’s why you’ve been heartbroken.’
She merely whispers: ‘So you know.’”
This “So you know” is emphatic because Mikasa is referring to Eren’s proposal. Levi knows it—he was their homeroom teacher after all—so it’s the first hint about the conflict of providing.
However, Eren and Mikasa don’t acknowledge this problem together until chapter 7. In part, it is because if they speak about providing, they need to tackle the proposal (which we’ll talk about in just a second), but also because Mikasa has grown and realized that Eren’s wishes, even thought not really respectful of what she was, came from the best of him. As they drink beer after Marco’s funeral, though, the truth spills out when talking about how Eren had to take care about Carla economically after she was diagnosed by breast-cancer:
“When he looks at her, Mikasa’s gaze is beaming under the brewery lights, as if she had fallen into a realization. Maybe she has, Eren thinks, and her cheeks are blushed as she whispers: ‘You did what you had to do to provide.’
He merely says: ‘I would never stop providing for the ones I love.’”
Eren is smooth, but he’s basically confessing in here. Mikasa is too clever to ignore it, so that’s why she grows defensive about it and they begin the “famous” rant about this being Eren’s redemption story.
The proposal—sacred matrimony
If you’ve reread some passages of Rotten Judgement, you’d have known that the topic of marriage (they ironically call it: sacred matrimony) appears quite early in the story. In fact, we have the first mention of marriage already in Chapter 2, before Eren meets Mikasa 10 years after: “He has never even believed in sacred matrimony. Of course, the girl is not here, and it’s alright, it’s not a big deal, he tells himself, it’s not like I was to marry her. Then the mind goes back in time, to a promise.” Aha, my friends: we kinda knew that Eren thought about Mikasa romantically enough to promise her to marry her. The first thing we read after they see each other for the first time in years is: “They could have remembered the time when they were eight, or the time when they were eighteen —the first words they said to each other, sweet and toothy; the last words they said to each other, crying and angry”. So, we know that the first words were when they were little, and the last ones were a disaster.
I decided to introduce Eren’s beliefs after that. In chapter 3 we go back to the past for the first time, and we realize that little Eren wants to marry Mikasa. He talks about it with Carla, but because of Carla’s traumas and her relationship with Grisha, she takes away Eren’s romantic beliefs from it when Eren asks what marriage is:
“‘A contract’, Carla looked at his son, eager to know, curious as always, as she turned off the faucet, ‘is a document that you sign. It’s binding. Do you know what binding means?’ Eren shook his head no. ‘Binding means that there’s no going back. Once you sign it, there’s no saying, I don’t want her anymore. You won’t be happy that way if you’re bound to someone whom you do not like. Do you understand?’
Eren nodded. Then, the fire burnt in his eyes as he looked at his mom and said: ‘But what’s the issue, mom? I will always want to be bound to Mikasa.’” This is one of the first clear foreshadowings about the proposal.
But if he read further in the chapter, which is called “The contract”, we get to the party where Historia and Jean make Eren and Mikasa sign a contract saying that they won’t make war: “Historia and Jean watch Eren and Mikasa with avid eyes. They watch how their eyes meet, how their eyes skim over the paper, come back to their orbs, blush. They bite their lips, scrunch their noses, and want to get over with it. They take their gaze away from each other as if it burned.” In Eren and Mikasa’s reaction, they are acknowledging what a contract means and how the proposal went, even if they don’t say it: they feel ashamed, almost disgusted by it.
Yet: they think the same thing. They understand marriage as the same thing—a contract, providing, almost devoid of romantic love. Because they don’t understand marriage as an effort, only as a saving mechanism, they don’t think marriage can last, because it will make you responsible and miserable. The others (and, so, the reader) realize that something is wrong with Mikasa and Eren and marriage in chapter 4, when Mikasa confesses the reason why it didn’t work with Tetsuki:
‘“He wanted to marry, and I didn’t.”
The truth of it still catches Eren’s breath.
[…] “Well, Sasha, I don’t believe in sacred matrimony.”’
The fact that Eren is listening to the conversation, and how the reader reads into Eren’s reaction, is primordial here: I gave it to the pacing so that the reader follows the same hints as the friends, so when Sasha marvels saying that Eren says the same about marriage, the reader also is reminded of that (since Ymir says it about Eren in chapter 2!), but when placed in that conversation, there’s an “ah-effect” (hopefully).
Mikasa reminisces the proposal quite early, too. In chapter 5, we have the scene playing again but from her POV: “For his lips on hers—demanding, forceful, salted with tears. She has always wanted it so much—but has forbidden her to think about it during those ten years. Moving on implied not thinking about Eren.” After that, she confesses to Armin that even if she was in love with Eren at the time, love was impossible: “’Well’, she says, now bitterly, ‘not all those relationships end up with love, neither.’ Armin knows that in her downcast smile, there are some green eyes.”
The duality in here is that the reader can think that she’s talking about her rejection in the rooftop, but really, she’s talking about how their relationship ended. Furthermore, her guilt is something that also stains all of the narration, because it’s not as easy as “Eren was the bad one, and Mikasa the good one”. This is definitely something that I don’t like in stories: I believe I do my best when I portray the grey of the characters, and how everyone moves according to their mistakes and their interests.
So, having Mikasa also feel guilt towards Eren put another layer in the narration, because it made her feelings much more complex: she can’t forget him for the hurt he did to her, but also feels compelled to know that she hurt him in the same way by rejecting his marriage proposal.
Although we know why Mikasa rejected the proposal in chapter 13 (she couldn’t stand Eren’s pity), it is already in chapter 10 that we get Mikasa’s truth about how she feels towards the whole ordeal, even before we know, a chapter after, that Eren proposed:
“‘It’s just so shameful, to accept that I hurt him. I’m not sure how we can fix the damage we made’, she exhales. […] ‘But, sometimes, as we’re together, Levi—I don’t know, sometimes, he makes me wonder if I ever really wanted to leave him.’”
***
Next, and to finish off the series, we will talk about Mikasa’s voice. I am still very happy about chapter 13 (I feel like it’s one of the best chapters I have ever written…) so I want to talk to you about how I had to introduce the problem with the voice very early on. If you reread the first or second chapter and find the first time Mikasa’s voice appears, you’ll get a very delicious cookie! (hehe, kidding).
Thank you for reading. Rotten Judgement chapter 14 will be up tomorrow <3
—Hera
#writerblr#writing#writers on tumblr#creative writing#writing community#writersociety#writer problems#writers of tumblr#writing life#aot fanfiction#eremika#eren jaeger#mikasa ackerman#attack on titan#rotten judgement fanfiction
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Whumptober #12
Day 12 - Mass Effect - Insomnia
*
The Citadel was never truly quiet, but it certainly slowed its pace at night.
Shepard walked slowly past all too familiar shops and apartments, mindlessly lapping the areas open to the public. He slowed as he neared the food joint where he and Kaidan had solidified their relationship, lingering there longer than he had anywhere else that night.
Kaidan. Kaidan had nearly died for this mission already. And it was only going to get more dangerous from here.
Shepard shook himself and got walking again. Kaidan was a soldier; he knew the risks and he took them willingly. Shepard would not dishonor him by babying him.
He thought of Ashley. She had been one of the earliest casualties of this whole mess, and she didn’t even know just how much her brave sacrifice truly meant.
How many more would have to die? How many more friends would Shepard have to leave behind?
Could he even be objective anymore as a leader? If he had to make the choice between Ashley and Kaidan today, would he be certain he’d made it logically instead of emotionally? He was certain he’d made the best, most logical call he could back then. But these days, he just wasn’t sure he was capable of that anymore. His crew had become his family.
He could lose all of them.
And it could be his fault.
“Pretty late for a stroll, Shep.”
He jumped a little, cursing himself for letting his guard drop. Then he cursed himself more for even caring that Garrus had snuck up on him.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Shepard said as Garrus fell into pace next to him. “You?”
“Sleepless shore leave is no fun,” Garrus agreed. “Mind some company?”
“Be my guest,” Shepard said.
They walked in companionable silence for a while. Finally, Garrus broke it.
“What’s on your mind? And don’t bother bullshitting me. We could all be dead tomorrow, so might as well get it off your chest,” Garrus said.
Shepard wrestled with himself for a moment, torn between finally being honest and keeping it inside to remain the stoic leader he needed to be. In the end, he couldn’t help himself. Garrus was his best friend; he wouldn’t judge Shepard.
“I can’t stop thinking of all the ways it could go wrong. All the ways it has,” he admitted.
“We knew what we signed up for. If we didn’t want to risk our lives, we probably shouldn’t have agreed to help you fight creatures called ‘Reapers’,” he said.
Shepard shook his head. “I just don’t know if I’m fit for it anymore, Garrus. I’ve rarely doubted my calls before. I’m starting to.”
“Don’t,” Garrus said firmly. “Your calls are the reason we’ve gotten this far.”
“I had us working for a terrorist organization.”
“Well, we all make mistakes.” He nudged Shepard playfully. “Shepard, if you hadn’t done that, imagine how many more colonies would’ve been attacked. You did what you had to do, whatever it took, and then turned yourself in after. You accepted the consequences because you knew you’d done the right thing. I was with you; I promise it was the best call in a bad situation.”
Shepard ran a hand over his head. “I can’t sleep anymore. I overthink all night. The stress of this whole thing has given me insomnia. As if I need more time to overthink.”
“Shepard, we’ll all follow you into hell. We know you’ll make the right calls. You always have before.” Garrus looked up at the darkened sky above them. “I’ve never met anyone so sure of himself. It’s not for nothing. You do what needs to be done and preserve what life you can along the way. You’re a good man, and a great leader. But don’t let that go to your head.”
Shepard nearly smiled at that. “Thanks, Garrus.”
They fell back into that companionable silence. The thought of ever losing Garrus was just one more stresser, though. Garrus had been his best friend for a long time, the two clicking as soon as they met. Garrus had always supported Shepard and believed in him.
No. No, Shepard had to be confident. He would do the best he could and do whatever he could to get all of his friends out alive and take down the Reapers.
He just hoped he was good enough in the end.
#whumptober2023#no.12#insomnia#mass effect#fic writing#commander shepard#garrus vakarian#jtdoeswhumptober
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Pastor Adam Davis’ Journal (2023)
1: Today, I convinced another family to sell their home to the mayor’s development project. It wasn’t easy, but I reminded them that what my brother Michael plans for Millhaven is all in God’s plan. Them sacrificing a little for the greater good is what God would want. And besides, after the town is revitalized we’ll attract more wealthy residents who can donate to the church. I didn’t mention that to them though.
2: I had a meeting with Michael regarding the plans of the new megachurch. He’s promised to make it the biggest and most impressive church in the state. I can already envision the headlines: ‘Millhaven’s Pastor Leads Charge to Build Largest Church in Oregon.’
3: I approached Barbara today after Sunday service. She’s one of the few holdouts that won’t sell her property to Michael. I tried to convince her again, but she wouldn’t budge. It’s frustrating because I know his plans are what’s best for Millhaven. But I guess not everyone sees it that way. Maybe I’ll have to pray for her to see the light.
4: I can’t believe how much money the congregation has tithed already. Thanks to my persuasive sermons, even those who don’t have much are willing to give. My lifestyle isn’t cheap, and I need to continue to live comfortably so I can be a better pastor and inspire others. One day I’ll be a televangelist. The world will know my name.
5: I can sense the tension in the air every time I stand at the pulpit lately. Barbara is becoming more about her opposition to the mayor’s plans and is trying to turn the town against me. They all fail to see that our town must grow and evolve in order to attract new people and opportunities. Despite my efforts to explain this to them, they remain stubbornly resistant.
6: And then there’s the matter of the church, I know that tearing down the old building and replacing it with a new, modern one will be a huge undertaking, but it’s necessary if we want to keep up with the times.
7: It’s not easy being the pastor of the only church in town. I’m caught between my duty to my congregation and the loyalty of my brother. But I know what we’re doing is right. Millhaven needs to change. And if Barbara and her little group can’t see that, then they’re just standing in the way of progress.
8: The end times are here. A new plague is in the modern world: LHV. Maybe this is the moment when God will reveal himself to us, he’ll take the faithful up to heaven and leave the sinners to face the apocalypse. I’ve been preaching about the rapture for years, preparing the congregation. I fear I don’t know where I stand in God’s eyes. I’ve asked for forgiveness. I’m trying to do right by letting members into the church that seek refuge. I’ve got canned goods from the church’s food donations and we have armed security.
9: Michael is nowhere to be found. He’s attending some conference on the other side of the country. I can’t help but feel a mix of emotions, anger for him not being here to help me guide these people, and worry for his safety. I hope he’s okay out there, I’ve been praying for him.
10: I can’t help but feel like the outbreak is all my fault. God is punishing me for my sins and my family’s past. The mill, the gentrification. It was all for our personal gain. I’ve led the people astray, and now we are all paying the price. Every night, I pray for forgiveness and hope that somehow, someway, God will save us from this nightmare. It’s like the devil himself has taken over the world.
11: Many more people have come seeking shelter. It’s overwhelming. This situation is getting dire. We’re running low on food on water. I had to start rationing out supplies, but I fear it won’t be enough. I’ve tried to convince the people to just pray and have faith, but some are starting to lose hope.
12: I’ve been struggling with myself. I can’t help but feel guilty for hoarding some of the supplies for myself. I know it’s selfish, but I’m the leader. I have to stay strong to guide these people.
13: I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been hearing the cries of hungry children and it’s tearing me apart. I have to do something. I’m going to distribute the remaining supplies to the people. Maybe it’s not too late to make things right.
14: Today, even more people arrived at the church seeking shelter, but we simply didn’t have the capacity or resources to accommodate them all. It was heartbreaking to turn them away, but the safety of those already inside was my top priority. The refugees are upset with me, especially after I had to refuse families with young children.
15: Things have turned quickly. Those who once looked up to me are now against me. A man tried to attack me. He wasn’t one of the demons, he was just hungry and angry with me. An armed guard shot him. This made the other refugees panic. I knew they would all turn on me soon. I had to make the tough decision and order them all to leave. I said the guards would use force if they didn’t comply. It wasn’t safe to keep them here, I couldn’t risk my own survival.
16: I feel terrible about what happened. I was scared and only prioritized my own safety. I’m trying to be a better man, but I mess up every time. The demons attacked the people. It’s not entirely my fault that they got them: they should have been more careful and not gone against me. Still, it’s hard to shake off the guilt. I’m a pastor; I’m supposed to help people in need, not turn them away to their deaths. I hope I can be forgiven.
17: It’s hard to put into words the level of guilt and shame that has consumed me. I feel as everything I’ve done, every decision I have made, has been a mistake. I led the people of Millhaven astray, I allowed my brother to continue his unethical plans, and worst of all, I turned away the people seeking refuge in our church. I knew deep down would never make it out alive.
18: The guilt of my actions has become too much to bear. I can’t even bring myself to look at my own reflection in the mirror anymore. I’m a selfish, self conflicting hypocrite. I’ve made a decision, I can no longer live with the weight of my mistakes. I hope God forgives me. I’m sorry to those I’ve hurt, to those I’ve turned away, and to those whose lives have been lost because of me. This is my final entry. Goodbye. - Pastor Adam Davis
stray note, church basement:
As I write this, I can hear Pastor Davis preaching about how we must “sacrifice" for the greater good. But it's clear that his definition of “greater good" only applies to himself. He hoards the food and water while the rest of us go hungry. The children cry themselves to sleep every night. I hope the soldiers can clear the area, we all need to leave before we starve to death.
#he keeps writing about how much millhaven needs to change#because he’s trying to convince himself#that what him and his brother are doing is justified#suicide tw#millhaven journals
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I can’t deny the fact that everything in my life that’s fucked up that a part of it it’s my fault I gotta admit that but damn I never meant bad towards no one in my life I never asked nor deserved to be traumatized the way I was in my life wtf and now i feel so lost feels like god abandoned me I’ve made so many stupid decisions listening to others cause I’ve felt so paranoid all my life making wrong choices that led my family to where they are now not knowing that’s how they ended up in the same situation now here I am broken in so many different ways it hurts so bad to want someone you know you once had and can’t believe I let my trauma make decisions that cause her to distance herself from me and I miss the connection we have and if I would of just focused on getting more situated in my life & never let other people opinions comments and thought get a reaction and work on to stop giving everyone I come across a back and fourth energy I wouldn’t be in these situations today it hurts that I gotta love her from a distance and that things could never go back to the way they was because her family would be concerned for her safety and by all means have every right after I fucked up choking her cause I couldn’t handle her walking out the door on me because i didn’t want her to leave me when I should of been a man and stood by decision and just let her eventually we would have work things out but I let myself get out of control just to I could have control but all I got was someone who loved me dearly and forgave after I said I wouldn’t do it again and did unthinkable again and broke her trust more than just going to go try to talk to a random hook I broke her trust to make her feel that the man she lays down with would never be the same person to lay a hand after her after all her past trauma I broke that promise and even tho we got on good term after the damage at that point would cause her to run from me little by little and i didn’t want her to hate me so i broke up with her because i didn’t want to be her trauma I wanted to be her love but i got traumas that hasn’t been resolved and it’s because I haven’t done what i needed to do for myself spending my things on money on things i already have enough of honestly can’t even vent without someone trying to tell me something about myself that’s why I keep my thoughts and feelings so isolated but look where that’s got me here venting among myself because I can’t handle in internal pain cause by everything that’s happen in the past and right now & scared that if anyone saw me like this I’ll just be judge sent to the hospital or told about someone who got it worse well it’s hard to consider others pain when u gettin pain given to u day by day by your family your job and the so called friends who could have in your circle that say they there for you but with all that comes with some much stuff that they selfishly put you through just to prove a friendship that eventually fails in the end I can’t help to feel bitter about everything that’s happened in these last four years I lost the love of my life I got betrayed by so called best friends credit went to shit had to move back in my house because of a biomass hick who thought he knew my own grandmother better than I did when she is the person who cause me all this pain from the start I suffer PTSD From that day I got assaulted by the cops in Long Island and I’m stuck in a job that constantly harasses me but it’s so good cause it’s federal yeah okay complete bullshit on probation and can’t even travel to see my dad and he misses me so much I feel like I’ve just failed myself and everyone around me idk how to feel anymore all I know I don’t want to feel this numb and dead inside I feel like I’m living just to stay alive not to enjoy life and do great things I just feel like I’m here waiting until that day I hit the ground I’m just pray and wish my life could get better but I honestly just lost all hope in that ever being a real thing
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Have An Evil Day
No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’
Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.
But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.
I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.
I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.
I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.
We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.
I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.
And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.
“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”
He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.
“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”
He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”
“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.
“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”
“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”
He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”
“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”
He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.
About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”
Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”
“Biohazard.”
“Oh. Class three?”
“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”
He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”
“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”
He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”
I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.
We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.
I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)
By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.
“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”
“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”
“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”
“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.
“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”
“Sir, I know you’re not – “
“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”
I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”
Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”
Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”
I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”
“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”
I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”
“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”
“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.
“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”
Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”
“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”
I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.
It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.
“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”
Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”
Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”
“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”
“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”
Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”
“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”
He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”
“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”
He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”
“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.
I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”
“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”
Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”
Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.
She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”
Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”
“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”
He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”
“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”
Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”
“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”
“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.
“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”
He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”
“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”
He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”
“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”
Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”
“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”
Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”
“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”
He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”
We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”
He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”
“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”
“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”
“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”
“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”
“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”
“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”
His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”
There was a long pause.
“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.
“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”
We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”
“You want me to join the bad guys?”
“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”
“That’s a regular concern?”
“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”
“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”
“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “
Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”
“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.
“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”
Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.
Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.
But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.
Have an evil day!
#welcome to Evil Mart#good is not just good#evil is not just evil#people are complicated#and so is retail#tw graphic#tw gore#tw violence#tw murder#it's a supervillain story#supervillain shit happens#you are now warned
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