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carmenized-onions · 11 days

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I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

“Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear fx

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teyvatdreams · 2 years

Text

helping them when they need it

incl. itto, xiao, kazuha, childe

warnings: mentions of injuries / cuts

a/n: childe’s is . kind of angsty ?? still has a little bit of reverse comfort. also takes place before he tries to destroy liyue <3

itto

you weren’t entirely sure why arataki itto ran to you when he had an allergy attack, but here he was, nearly hyperventilating at your doorstep.

“what happened?” you ask, putting your hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“beans,” he chokes out. “beans,” he repeats, coughing.

“we were getting food and there were beans hidden under his rice,” one of his gang members explains. “we told him to be careful but he was so hungry he took a bite without checking!”

“oh, jeez. come on,” you sigh, helping itto up. “could you guys give us some space?” you look to the three men standing behind itto.

they all nod. “we’ll stay out here if that’s what you need.”

you close your door and sit itto down. his eyes were filled with tears and he was coughing uncontrollably. “itto, you’ve gotta be more careful. this is the 2nd time this has happened in the past week,” you tell him. “at this rate, you’re gonna build an immunity to beans.”

itto rapidly shakes his head. “no way. never gonna happen,” he says with a strained voice.

“just sit here and calm down. you’re not gonna be able to get your breath back if you keep panicking,” you tell him. “do you want some water?”

itto quickly nods. you retrieve a glass of water for him and he slurps it down. “man, you really are a lifesaver,” he breathes. he already sounds better.

“are you gonna be okay? aren’t eating beans like, particularly bad for you? am i gonna have to rush you to a doctor?” you ask.

“slow down, slow down,” itto says between breaths. “i think i’ll be fine. might have to take it easy for the rest of the night, but i won’t die or anything. it was just one bean.” his face scrunches up. “so gross.”

you refill his glass of water, and he drinks it all in the blink of an eye. “d’you mind if i crash here for a bit?” he asks. “just a few hours, tops. i promise i’ll be gone before the sun sets.”

you nod. “that’s fine, i guess. what do you want me to tell the guys?”

“just tell ‘em to head home and that i’m taking a nap here. they’ll be outta your hair then.”

you did just that, and although hesitant, his gang members left. by the time you came back inside, itto was already fast asleep. you didn’t have to leave home, so you just went on with your day and kept an eye on itto.

the sun started to set and itto finally started stirring. “itto?” you ask quietly.

itto’s eyes flutter open and he rubs them before lifting his head. “oh man, how long have i been out?”

“three days,” you reply. “just kidding, it’s only been a few hours.” you quickly add on once you see the look of horror on itto’s face.

“not funny,” he mumbles, setting his head back down. “how am i still so exhausted?”

“well, you are extremely allergic to beans. ‘extremely’ almost doesn’t seem like a good enough word to describe how badly allergic you are,” you tell him. “just stay the night.”

“are you sure?” itto asks after a few moments of silence. “i mean, i’m sure i can make it home just fine. granny is probably worried about me,” he says.

“i understand that, but i don’t really think you’re in a condition to make that journey back to your granny right now. surely she’ll understand when you get back?“ you suggest.

“yeah, you’re probably right. she’d probably be mad at me for walking that much when i’m like this.” he says. he groans. “i need to go back to sleep. my head is killing me,”

“no worries. hopefully you’ll feel better in the morning.” you say.

“hey, (y/n), thanks for letting me stay here while i recover. i owe you big time.” itto says.

you chuckle. “don’t worry about it. you’re not in best itto condition, i can’t let you go around inazuma looking like that,”

he laughs. “yeah, thanks for — wait, what do you mean by that? how bad do i look?!?”

xiao

“he’s on the roof, as usual. i… don’t think he’s in the best condition. could you please check on him?”

verr goldet’s voice sounded more nervous than usual. as you made your way to the top of wangshu inn, you were just expecting to see xiao exhausted from conquering demons — it was a rare sight, but it did happen. you had never actually seen him physically hurt.

“xiao?” you ask, stepping onto the roof. you couldn’t see him. “xiao?” you repeat.

you hear something behind you. turning, you finally see xiao. you can tell by the way he’s standing that he’s in great pain — eyebrows furrowed, face contorted in a way that makes it only more obvious he’s trying to hide his pain. “you called?”

“verr goldet asked me to check on you… are you okay?” you ask, stepping closer.

xiao grunts. “i’m fine.”

it’s then when you notice his arms are cut, exposing dark gashes on his arm that are the complete opposite of a human’s flesh. gasping, you put a hand on his arm, making sure to be wary of his injury. “what happened?”

“i said i’m fine,” xiao gently moves away from your grasp. “it’s just a flesh wound…”

“it should still be cared for,” you tell him. “please let me look at it.”

xiao crossed his arms before sighing. “alright, fine.”

“i’ll be back in just a moment. don’t leave.”

you quickly go down the stairs of wangshu inn and retrieve a first aid kit. you’re back to the roof in no time and pleased to see that xiao hasn’t left. “sit,” you say, gently helping him sit down. you start to disinfect his cuts.

he doesn’t even flinch. he clears his throat. “…is it bad?”

you shake your head. “no. it isn’t deep enough to need stitches or anything,” you reply. “but whatever got you, got you pretty good.”

you bandage up his right arm and start cleaning the next. “where were you when i got here? verr goldet said you’d be on the roof.”

“i knew she’d send you after me,” he mumbles. “i didn’t want you to see me hurt.”

“why?” you ask. “it’s a good thing i did, right? you could get more hurt if you left these untreated.”

he shrugs. “i suppose you’re right.”

“if you didn’t want me to see you like this, then why did you still show up?” you ask.

“because you called out my name. and i promised i’d be there whenever you did.” xiao replies.

you finish bandaging him up. “you’re good at keeping promises,” you say, packing the first-aid kit up. “so promise me you won’t hesitate to ask me for help.”

xiao pauses for a moment before nodding slightly. when you start to descend the stairs to return the kit back to its place, you feel xiao’s eyes on you, watching intently. “i’m just putting the first-aid kit back,” you tell him. “i’ll be back. would you like me to get you some almond tofu from chef yanxiao?”

“okay,” he says, shoulder dropping in relief. “just… make it fast, please,”

kazuha

doing business on the docks of liyue, you had grown close to the captain of the crux, beidou. you were the first to welcome her back and the last to send her your regards and well wishes before she left. so when she returned to liyue after a trip to inazuma, she wasted no time to introduce you to kaedehara kazuha.

he was timid, only speaking to beidou, avoiding all eye contact with you — beidou told you once it was just you and her that he had been through a lot recently, fleeing from inazuma after witness his friend get slain.

before the pair left the dock, you called out his name.

“kazuha, if you ever need help, ask beidou where you can find me.”

it was just an offer; you couldn’t deny that his story pulled at your heartstrings a bit. he had gone through so much. losing a friend, fleeing your home nation, suddenly coming to a new nation you don’t know anything about. it was a lot.

a few weeks had passed since kazuha had arrived in liyue. you had only spoken to him once since beidou introduced you to him, but you saw him around the city a lot and would always wave or give him a friendly smile. it wasn’t until a stormy night that kazuha took up your offer of help.

you almost didn’t hear him knock on your door. it almost blended in with the pounding rain against your house. but you checked anyways, and you were greeted with a soaking wet kazuha at your doorstep.

you immediately pulled him inside, running to grab a towel to dry him off. he looked like he was soaked to the bone, his clothes were sopping wet and rain dripped from his hair. you wrapped the towel around him and sat him down.

“i tried to find shelter,” kazuha chuckles as he pulls the towel tighter around his body. “but as you can see, i failed.”

“it’s been raining for hours,” you say softly, throwing more wood in the fireplace nearby. “have you been in the rain this entire time?”

“not the entire time. i was in a cave when the rain started, but the wind started to blow the rain in. so i started to make my way here.” he explains. “it still took some time, though.”

“i’m glad you knew where i was. besides from me there’s only two other houses nearby, and i’m not sure they’d be as welcoming to a stranger.” you tell him.

“after we met a few weeks ago i asked beidou where i could find you if i needed it. since i’ve been here for some time now, i didn’t have any trouble finding you, luckily.” he replies. he sniffles, pushing his wet hair back.

“let me get you some food, you must be starving.” you say, pushing a chair closer to the fireplace. “sit here. get warmed up,” you help him stand and get him seated by the fire.

you quickly go to your kitchen to retrieve some soup you had made earlier while you rack your brain on what to do about his clothes. you had some old clothes you didn’t wear anymore that might fit him; he just needed something for the night. you left the kitchen to get kazuha some food in his stomach.

“here’s some soup,” you say. “you’ll have to change out of those clothes before you get sick, though,”

kazuha nods, taking the soup from your hands and sips it, sighing in relief at the warmth. “thank you for helping me,” he says. “i don’t think i realized how cold i was until i got here.”

“of course,” you reply. “there’s no way i’d leave you out there. let me get you those clothes now,” you go to your bedroom and find the clothes — looking at them now, they’d surely fit him.

when you return, kazuha had finished the soup and was standing by the fire. he had just finished drying his hair; it was out of it’s usual ponytail now. “i’m sorry for causing any—“

“shh,” you shush him. “it’s fine. i offered to help and now i’m helping.” you hand him the clothes.

his eyelids are heavy. he looks so exhausted he could fall asleep standing up.

“i can take you to my room and you can have my bed for the night.” you tell him.

kazuha shakes his head. “no. i can’t do that. i can just sleep out here on the floor.”

“kazuha—“

“i’ll be fine. i’m used to it. having a roof over my head is enough for me.” he says.

you listen to the rain outside for a few moments before nodding. “okay. you can put your clothes by the fire, hopefully they’ll be dried by morning.” you say. “are you sure you’ll be okay?”

kazuha smiles slightly, nodding. “yes. i can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done so far.”

“alright, then. i’ll see you in the morning.” you leave kazuha by himself and go to your own room. it takes you some time to shut your brain off and fall asleep, but you manage.

in the morning, you leave your room and see that kazuha has already woken up. he was back in his own clothes that had dried and had neatly folded yours and set it on the table.

“how are you feeling?” you ask.

“okay,” kazuha replies. “although… i can feel a cold coming on,” he sighs.

“well, you can always come back if you need to. a cold will definitely leave faster if you have proper shelter. i can also get you some medicine from dr. baizhu. i have to deliver something to him today anyways,” you tell him.

kazuha nods, grinning. “thank you.”

you quickly get ready and head towards the harbor with kazuha. the smell of rain still lingered in the air, children were jumping in the puddles left behind while the wild animals drank from them.

“i have to head to the crux,” kazuha says. “thank you again for all the help.”

“you’re welcome. feel free to come by anytime,” you tell him.

he nods, a soft smile on his face. “i’ll definitely consider it.”

childe

there had been a few times before when you had needed to patch up the mysterious man from snezhnaya — usually just a few cuts and bruises, but for a toy seller, he was getting hurt an awful lot.

so when he showed up on your doorstep, clothes tattered, covered in blood, you knew there was definitely something he wasn’t telling you. but that didn’t mean you were going to deny him help.

silence fills the room as you disinfect his cuts and clean the dirt off his skin. you noticed that body was basically covered in scars.

“you’ve definitely seen me in better shape,” childe finally says, voice strained. he’s still able to crack a smile.

you look to him. even though he’s smiling, you can sense some kind of hurt in his eyes. you quickly glance away. “i have.”

“i appreciate your help. i didn’t know who else to go to. the pharmacy is closed, and i’m not sure i’d get the same kind of help there as i will from you.” childe says.

you nod. “you made the right choice. so, what happened?” you ask.

the question makes childe shift uncomfortably in his spot. “i can tell you’re suspicious.”

“of course i am. am i supposed to think toy sellers get in fights like this?” you question. “either way, i don’t care. we’ve already established some kind of friendship, so…”

“it was never my plan to keep my real job hidden from you,” he admits. “but it would change your mind about me. and it felt kind of nice to have someone who didn’t know what i’m really in liyue for… but everyone figures it out somehow,” he says, chuckling.

“childe…” you say softly. “i’m still helping you. and i plan to do this whenever you need it.”

childe looks to you, with an almost confused and hurt expression on his face. “i’m not a good guy.”

“then i’ll pretend you’re a good guy.” you reply, pressing a bandage onto a cut on his shoulder. “if mr. zhongli trusts you, then surely you can’t be all that bad? i’m starting to get a feeling you don’t talk too highly of yourself.”

childe looks down at the floor. “okay. then we can pretend i’m just a toy seller.”

you pull childe’s sleeve back down to cover the bandage. “alright.”

childe stands up from his seat and heads to the door. “thank you again.”

“are you sure you want to leave? you must be exhausted. you’re already hurt and it’s dark outside. you should really—“

“i’ll be fine.” childe cuts you off. “i shouldn’t take up more of your time. you’ve already helped me this much.” he opens the front door. “i hope i’ll see you again soon.”

and then, he’s gone, leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #childe x reader #itto x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #childe fluff #itto fluff #xiao fluff #kazuha fluff #childe headcanons #itto headcanons #xiao headcanons #kazuha headcanons #childe imagines

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takecareluv · 2 years

Note

NO NO OKAY imagine being sent to the er (nothing crazy js like a little health scare) and vinnies holding ur hand thru it all and comforting you while you’re laying there as they do tests and shit :’) hurt/comfort has quickly become my new fav trope and it’s js eeeek idk there’s something ab it that makes my heart go BFKWBFKWNDKWNDJENS🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

a.n. i feel you omg, there’s something about someone taking care of you and being worried about you when your sick/hurt that’s just: 🥺🥺💕 i’m soft. u know? i do wanna say i know nothing about allergic reactions, how to use epipens or any of the procedures that medics/doctors do for it so i apologize if anything i described was inaccurate. i kind of just went off my basic knowledge so there’s most likely something wrong. but i hope you enjoy this !!! i love ur request ideas my darling <3

the sesame scare || vinnie hacker x reader

you were currently in the hype house kitchen, messing around with everyone while vinnie streamed in your bedroom upstairs.

thomas had another one of his weird snacks that he was forcing everyone to try for his youtube channel.

you laughed at everyone's disgusted reaction until the camera was finally pointed in your direction, everyone waiting for you to try the foreign candy. you struggled to come up with an excuse on the spot, "oh um, i'm good. i'm not really hungry."

"c'mon y/n/n, just a little bite. we all did it." mia reasoned in attempt to persuade you.

"fine," you groaned. "but if i throw up i am never forgiving you guys," you joked, everyone in the house knew how much of a fear you had of throwing up.

"you'll be okay, i promise." thomas hummed, handing you the bite sized candy.

you shoved it in your mouth, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible so you can go back up to your bedroom and cuddle with hera.

the snack tasted absolutely horrid, but that was the least of your worries at the moment. you were more concerned with the feeling of your throat closing up and chest tightening.

you brought you hand up to your neck as you choked, gasping for air. everyone around you was laughing because they thought you were just exaggerating your reaction to the nasty taste for the video.

you tried to tell them you weren't okay, but the words wouldn't come out. you couldn't breathe, let alone talk.

all that you could get out was a raspy "help" before falling to the ground.

"oh my god, is she okay? what happened?" mia gasped, running to your side.

thomas was just as worried, throwing his camera onto the table, he kneeled down next to you, checking that you were still in fact breathing. "i don't know, but go get vinnie. now!" he shouted.

you could hear all the commotion around you, but felt too weak to move or say anything. you wanted to so badly to tell them you needed your epipen and everything would be alright, but all that was coming out were small wheezes in place of words.

how could you be so stupid? you always liked to forget the fact that you had a food allergy, and now look at you. you felt so bad knowing how much you were probably worrying everyone, especially vinnie. he was always so protective over you, making sure to check over menus before he made reservations to be sure you could eat at the place. he always did so much to make sure you were okay and safe. now he leaves you alone for ten minutes, and you can't even take care of yourself? you were so mad at yourself.

you heard the heavy stomps of someone running down the stairs and into the kitchen, who you assumed to be vinnie. “what did you guys do?!” you could tell he was fuming. “baby, are you okay? can you hear me?” he asked, panicking.

he could feel your pulse so he still knew you were alive and breathing, which made him feel the slightest bit better. you tried to reach out to squeeze his hand so he knew you were still conscious, but he stood up before you could. “what happened? what were you guys doing when she passed out?”

“well, I was having everyone try this gross candy for my channel and she took a bite and then this happened.” thomas explained, still confused on what was going on.

“fuck. lemme see it,” he snatched the candy wrapper from thomas’s hand, reading over the ingredient list. “there’s sesame in this, dumbass. she’s allergic. call 911.” vinnie didn’t give anyone time to respond before he was sprinting out of the kitchen and up to your room to grab your epipen.

he ran back down the stairs just as fast, and was back at your side in no time. “okay baby, you're okay. you’re gonna be okay. this might hurt a little bit.” he pressed the tip against your thigh, trying his hardest not to shake as he injected the needle and held it in place.

vinnie heard sirens closely approaching and immediately told mia to open the gate for them. his heart was beating so fast, he was so worried.

he swiftly brought you into his arms, picking you up bridal style, and carrying you outside to where the paramedics had just pulled up.

he carefully laid you onto the stretcher they already had out for you, watching as the medics rushed to wheel you over to the back of the ambulance, guiding you into it. vinnie hopped in the back after one of the women gave him the okay to do so, and they were on their way to the hospital.

vinnie held your hand the entire ride as the paramedics did their job and didn’t let go until the doctors were wheeling you into a room he apparently was prohibited from. he decided against fighting them on it, knowing it wouldn’t do any good and just delay you getting the help you desperately needed.

instead, he plopped himself onto an uncomfortable chair closest to the door you just went through. his mind was running rampant. were you going to be okay? god, what if you weren’t, he couldn't lose you. he couldn’t help but blame himself. if only he was there, maybe he could've stopped you from eating it. or done something sooner. but no one could have known, i mean how many candy have sesame in them? maybe a lot and he was just stupid, god how could he be so stupid. he was streaming like an idiot while you were passed out.

“vincent hacker.” he quickly stood up at the sound of his name, racing over to the nurse who called him. “y/n is up and okay. we still have to run some tests that might take overnight but then she’ll be good to go. you can come back and sit with her, if you’d like?”

“yes, please. thank you.” he replied kindly, feeling a sense of relief wash over him from hearing that you would be okay.

the nurse prompted him to walk down the hall and to the last door on the right, room 222. he smiled at that, knowing you would explain to him that it was a sign your guardian angel was watching over you in there, making sure you were okay.

he proceeded down the end of the hall and into your room to see you laid out on the hospital bed, still looking a little out of it. he admired you from the doorway for a moment, how could someone still look so beautiful in a hospital gown after just having a serious medical emergency? he swore you were an angel.

you finally noticed him lurking and waved him into the room, “hey, bub. how you doing?” you quietly rasped out.

“i think i should be the one asking you that. how are you feeling, baby? you okay? god, you scared me half to death.” he rambled.

“calm down, vin. i’m okay, i promise. i'm sorry for scaring you, i should’ve been smarter and checked the ingredients since i didn’t know what i was eating. i just forget sometimes.”

“you have nothing to be sorry for, baby. you’re okay now and that’s all that matters. i just wish i would’ve been there with you, and then maybe it wouldn't have happened. i promise i’ll be there to protect you next time.”

you didn’t feel like talking anymore, you still were running low on energy. all you wanted was to cuddle with your favorite boy. you always felt nothing bad could happen when you were in his arms, you felt safe with him. “lay with me, please.” you begged.

“of course, baby. you let me know if I'm hurting you though or if you want me to move.” he slowly joined you on the bed that was a little two small for two people, but you made it work. anything to feel him again.

you soon fell asleep comfortably wrapped up in vinnie’s arms, and stayed like that for the remainder of the evening and into the following morning until all of the tests were complete.

vinnie was right by your side each time the nurses came in to check on you and run tests. he held your hand every time they had to draw blood, knowing how anxious you got from it. he kept reassuring you everything would be okay, and praised you for how well you were doing. “there you go, baby, good job. you did so good. only one more and we get to go home, mkay?”

once the last test was finished and the results came back perfect, the doctor cleared you.

vinnie helped you up and out the bed, handing you a big t-shirt of his to change into, along with a pair of shorts. he aided you in untying your gown and throwing on the shirt overtop, and even bent down to help put your shoes on and tie the laces.

your heart melted at how sweet he was with you. “thank you for taking such good care of me, bub. i truly don’t deserve you.”

“are you kidding? it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. i love you so much, baby girl. you know i'll do anything for you. you deserve the world and more.”

you leaned further into his side, pressing a kiss to his cheek, unable to find the words to express your thanks.

“are you hungry? we can go get you something to eat before we head home. just nothing we sesame, alright?”

#vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x you #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker

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student-in-nightraven · 1 year

Note

Oh ooo ok

So imagine Yuu/the reader has/had a twin back in their world that they havent talked about but miss dearly and they find comfort in being around the tweels

Eventually they confide this in Floyd and Jade and the two basically go "well I guess we have to adopt you now."

God I am a sucker for found family. Yk how it is.

So sorry for the late reply❗I was going through a huge burnout but not to fret I'm back! (Atleast I hope so) thank you for the request dear annon!!

Platonic

A fish of family

Having been in a whole other universe wasn't all just adventure and wonder, it also tugged you away from your family and friends such as being your twin, growing up with a twin always was exciting and never lonely, always having a friend close by but that all faded when you got transported to another universe, worse part was it being a school and you having to worry about schoolwork rather than how to get back to your world and to your family.

"____ come on were gonna be late and it's gonna be off with our heads so hurry up" ace called out standing next to deuce impatiently awaiting

"give me a minute to put the shoes on" you replied annoyed as you stood up ready to go.

Sure being in NRC wasn't boring, and luckily it helped to take your mind off of your twin so you would've have to grieve all the time. during your stay in NRC you came across the Tweels, 2 inhumanly tall clinically insane twins. Of course they gave you the goosebumps too but when they reminded you of you and your twin you couldn't help but let the worries fall away and form a small smile at the memories that flooded within you, you never told them, of course, there wasn't exactly a reason to but you did grow closer to them as they were too intrigued by your "not triggered by them" demeanour.

Floyd was drying glass clean with a cloth standing behind the counter with Jade, as he looked up he spotted you a smile formed on his face

"ahh look Jade it's shrimpyy" "oh? Indeed they are, good eye floyd", the taller eel put the glass down not paying attention to jade's comment started skipping towards your table.

You had decided to go to the mostro lounge to try and keep your mind off of your twin thinking being in that beautiful place would keep your worries away. As you sat down and absorbed the menu you saw a dish that looked like the one you and your twin used to enjoy, you grimaced and your eyebrows knitted at that "ughh great I thought I'd get away from the thoughts but it's just coming to me"

Flipping to the next page trying not to think about it, tho that failed as all you could do was think about the fun times you spent with your twin, tears started to form in your eyes as you got mad that you couldn't keep them in, soon you heard heavy footsteps approaching you to which you panicked trying to wipe the tears from your face as fast as possible

"Little shrimpp~ your backk how are you doing?" He asked as you tilted your head up to him forcing a smile, he's own smile faded at that as his eyes widened"Shrimpy are you crying?" "Huh? No I'm not I just have allergies you know how it is, I've been sneezing the whole day" you replied as to which he frowned "yeah you can trick your dumb friends with that but I can tell lies, i work with azul shrimp" you groaned and put your head on your arms,soon the other twin approached "What's going on here? Did you make the prefect cry Floyd?" Jade raised a brow to Floyd "Ehh? no! I just walked up to them and noticed they were cryin about something" he replied "a penny for your thoughts prefect?" "It's nothing just family stuff" "you have a kid?-" "NO OF COURSE NOT" you yelled at Floyd at that assumption, "*sigh* sorry for the outburst I'm just overwhelmed is all, really you should go back to your duties so that Azul won't rip his hair out again" you said chuckling a bit at the end, "Oh please we have plenty of time to spare, things do get quite boring and who's Azul if he doesn't lose it once in a while?" Jade said looking at his brother who smiled and nodded at you, you chuckled and jade and Floyd sat Infront of you "Now, do tell us what's troubling you prefect"

You told them about your twin and how it's been tough to keep remembering about the memories, to your surprise jade and Floyd listened and actually looked like they felt bad? Jade took your hand "I had no idea you had a twin, and I'm terribly sorry about your situation I can't imagine what it's like to be far from your twin"

"Yeah! I mean I get bored and ticked off when me and jade don't have classes with eachother more than twice so being far from your twin for more than thatm.m sheesh" he shivered and hugged your side

"thanks for understanding, really, I needed to get this out" you smiled, jade and Floyd shared a look then smiled "I see well then, me and Floyd have to go now, we'll see you soon, till tomorrow prefect" jade said as he got up waiting for Floyd, "see ya shrimpp" Floyd said as he waved he's hand.

You sat there deciding to order something and leave soon so you could sleep early.

The next day you were going to chemistry class but soon stopped when 2 tall eels stood in your way "oh hi guys" you looked up "hellp prefect/ahoy shrimp" "we got you something" jade said as he holded his hand out to Floyd, Floyd put a box in his palm and jade turned to you giving the box to you. "What's this?" You asked "open it and you'll see" jade answered smiling

You raised a brow and opened the box, in the box you saw one earring, similar to the one Floyd and jade wore. "Oh wow this is very generous of you but, why?" "You're part of the family now shrimp" Floyd said grinning "indeed,the earrings we wear symbolises family, and from now on you're part of it jade replied smiling at you with closed eyes. You started sniffing and you brought an arm up to hold the tears in

"shrimp? Why're you crying?" "Prefect, is everything alright" they asked worried

"actually it's better than okay, thank you both so much, this means a lot for me, thank you" you said smiling at them Floyd laughed out of happiness and squeezed you as jade hugged you as well "Hehe we have a triplet now Jade" "seems that we do Floyd"

The end

This was so adorable I can't🤧 literally thank you for this request it was amazing, have a good week dear annon 🫶

#twisted wonderland #platonic #floyd leech #jade leech #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #octavinelle #twst

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whoreforhorror · 2 years

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Hi wanted to request again, bc duh your writing is amazing, could you do one with a s/o with dyed hair (idc what color) and asthma (maybe allergies too :3) these are such random ass combos 😭

Again with Bo, Vincent and Brahms 😅

So glad you’re back! I saw this request come in when I was at work and couldn’t wait to get started. (It may or may not be 3:30 am but we’re going to ignore that <3) I will admit, it’s a random combo but I don’t care because you’re literally awesome!

Hope this gets close to what you wanted. I’ve got dyed hair so I can get pretty detailed with that but I don’t have any allergies or asthma so I was kind of just going off of what my friends experience.

Tw: mentions of panic attacks and asthma attacks, nothing too detailed.

Slashers with an S/O who has dyed hair, asthma, and allergies

Bo Sinclair

Bo would make fun of your dyed hair at first. He finds a way to make a joke about any color or pattern you’d dye, and would only really stop if you told him that the jokes upset you. He’ll still call you peacock every now and then.

It’ll always be a good time to surprise him with a new hair color out of the blue. Dye it while he’s working in town and bring him a beer. He’ll turn to grab it and freeze. You’ll get a response similar to “What the hell?” every. time. He’s always surprised no matter how much you do it. It’s hilarious and he’s also the only of the three Sinclair brothers to not get used to it.

He doesn’t think much about your asthma until your first asthma attack. Before, when you explained to him that you had asthma and had to use an inhaler, he’d respond with something like “Oh, alright.” and go about his day. As soon as you have an asthma attack though, he’s going to freak out. Please tell him how to help in advance or he’ll have a full-blown panic attack. I don’t know if you knew this or not but one person having an asthma attack while the other is having a panic attack is not the most productive situation for either of you.

He’ll worry about all of the dust outside, above all else. He’s going to keep a constant eye on anything that could turn into a dust storm and he’ll give you plenty of warning. He’ll give you face covers and masks if you’ll let him. He might actually dust from time to time if it would help with your asthma. Feel lucky and loved, because he hates doing housework.

Bo will want to have one of your inhalers on him at all times. Just in case. He’s a man that likes to be prepared and ready for any situation, and that doesn’t stop at your asthma. He’s not a big fan of surprises.

He’s going to make jokes about your allergies. “What, a little ___ is gonna kill ya?” “How’ve ya made it this far when a bit of ___ can take ya out?” Bo is an asshole above all else.

When he gets really, really mad, a thought will cross his mind to get whatever you're allergic to and distribute it around the house or places you spend time in. He’d shut it down pretty quickly in most cases. It’s his sure-fire, blinking, flashing, neon sign that he needs to calm down immediately. He never wants to hurt you when he’s anywhere close to the right state of mind.

He’ll also want to carry an EpiPen if that’s what you use. Just like the inhaler, he just wants to be prepared and would hate to be caught off guard.

If you have to go to the doctor for regular appointments because of your asthma or allergies, he’ll grumble and gripe about it but will basically plan a whole day out on the town. Brunch, dinner, shopping, dessert, maybe even a movie.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent loves the dyed hair! I mean, come on. He’s an artist. What else would you expect? Especially if you dye your hair vibrant colors, he loves to see what you choose and the process of applying it.

He wants to learn how to dye hair and do it for you. He sees that it’s occasionally a struggle for you and wants to help and make your life easier. He also just likes the artistic process and mixing colorful dyes to make cool colors.

If he ever finds out it’s a thing or your hair is already a buzzcut, he’s practically demanding you to let him dye patterns and pictures on your hair. Hell, even if your hair is longer he’ll want to do ombre and layers of color. He sees a new medium in your hair and would love to experiment if you’d let him!

He might dye a strip of his hair to match whatever your hair is at the time. When he’s thinking about you, he’ll play with that piece of hair. It’s like a promise ring to him so if you have enough hair dye for you, you better have enough for him as well!

Vincent is kind of worried about your asthma because of the less-than-clean state of the basement. It’s not like it’s uninhabitable but the heat, wax, and dust makes for air that doesn’t really count as fresh or clean. He’ll make sure you keep your inhaler on you at all times and will ask if he can get more to keep in places that you frequent.

With both allergies and asthma, Vincent will have you teach him what an attack or flare-up looks like and what he can do to help. He’ll listen intently as you tell him and it will run over the steps when he’s alone in his downtime.

He’s also worried about dust storms because Ambrose is a pretty desolate place with a lot of loose dirt. He’ll design different face coverings and work with you to make one that you like the most, is comfortable, and is effective and keeping you from filling your lungs with dirt.

He’s going to try and remove any allergens from the house and town if he can. He wants you to feel as comfortable as possible with him, and he doesn’t think you can do that if you’re always on your toes because of your allergies. If he can’t remove the allergen, he’ll at least try to find areas that have more than others and make them before telling you about them so you can avoid them.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms, in his ever shelter mind, doesn’t like that your hair is dyed at first. ESPECIALLY if it’s an unnatural color. He’d be very tempted to cut it off and he just might if you make him upset and go to bed while his irritation and anger fester.

He grows to like it eventually because it’s a part of you and he loves you. He’d love it if you let him watch how you dye your hair. He’d probably lose interest part way through but he’s still really happy that you included him.

Just make sure not to stain anything. He WILL throw a fit if anything is stained because of your hair dye.

Brahms would ask you about your inhaler, which leads to him finding out you have asthma. He doesn’t see any issue with it until you wind up in the walls. He probably took something of yours and wouldn’t give it back, leading to you having to get it on your own. You managed to get to his room before the dust took over and you had an asthma attack. Brahms would freak out. Fully. When all is said and done, he’ll ban you from the walls and will treat you like you’re made of glass for a long while after that.

He’s going to mass order inhalers and EpiPens and have one in every room in the house. Even the walls. He might even have a couple in each room.

He hates the idea of having to use an EpiPen on you because he doesn’t want to literally stab you but with some encouragement and reassurance that it’s necessary, he’ll be a bit more comfortable using it.

Similar to asthma, he doesn’t really get allergies until you have an allergy flare-up. If he can, he’ll take anything that triggers your allergies and hide it in the walls (which might actually make it worse if it’s something airborne, but he tried). If he can’t he’ll get really upset if you go near anything that could set off your allergies. Even if it’s something like eating peanuts, he’ll get really upset with you for even thinking about touching the peanut butter jar.

#bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #house of wax #brahms heelshire #brahms the boy #brahms heelsire x reader #slashers imagine #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #requests

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randoimago · 7 months

Text

Day 24 - Coffee Shop AU

Fandom: Persona 5

Character(s): Takuto Maruki

Type of Request: 31 Days of Oc-Trope-R

Note(s): I love and miss Maruki so much

"Shoot," Maruki mutters as the rain really picks up for the day. The forecast said maybe a light sprinkle so he didn't think his umbrella was necessary. He should've known better than to believe the weather report to be accurate.

And so he rushed through the rain to find a place to stay dry in. That led him to a small coffee shop. It was warm and smelled like baked goods and coffee beans. And the cute barista was staring at him as he got water everywhere.

"I am so sorry. I wasn't expecting the rain to pick up. I promise I'll be out as soon as it stops." Maruki is quick to apologize, before he hesitates and decides to add, "Of course, I can leave if I'm making too much of a mess."

Instead of being mad or scolding him for not having an umbrella, you just give a small smile as you go to grab a coffee cup. "What can I get you? It's on the house, I can't have you freezing on me." Maruki stares for a couple moments before giving a smile as he asks for a hot chocolate. As nice as coffee might be, he could use something a bit sweeter.

Maruki can't help but watch as you move. It seems a bit chaotic to him, but you look like you know what you're doing with preparing his drink. Maruki's gaze goes to the menu on the wall, wanting to buy something as if that'll make up for looking like a drowned rat. But he doesn't get to as you finish his hot chocolate and put a muffin on a little plate next to it.

"It's kind of you to make this for me, but I'm perfectly happy to pay you," Maruki tells you as he approaches the counter after making sure that he's not going to track too much water. He can't help but feel guilty at how sweet you're being.

"It's no worries. The weather forecast did say a light sprinkle. It's not your fault for getting caught in it," you reply and Maruki gives you another smile at your words. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and winces. "Careful, it's hot," you tease and Maruki chuckles.

"It tastes delicious," Maruki tells you before giving a sheepish smile. "But my tongue is also a bit burnt so maybe I should give it a couple minutes before giving my verdict." As if he would say it tastes like anything else. Instead, Maruki picks up the muffin to take a bite of.

"I debated between that one and banana nut, but I didn't want to accidentally kill you because you had a nut allergy I didn't know about," you tell him and Maruki smiles.

"Well, blueberry is a classic and it's delicious." The smile on your face warms Maruki up, although maybe that's just the hot chocolate that he's sipping.

There's some silence between you two and Maruki feels guilt when he does see you get a mop to clean his mess. You're quick to remind him that it's okay. You two talk some more about this and that, Maruki has a few questions about the cafe that you seem happy to answer.

And before he knows it, the rain starts to clear up. It hasn't completely stopped, but it's gotten to a point where he can actually see outside the windows of the cafe.

"I guess I should get going now, thank you again for being so hospitable," Maruki says and he realizes that he doesn't really want to leave just yet. So instead, he takes another glance to the menu. "Actually, before I go, could I buy one of those banana nut muffins?" He makes sure to emphasis the word 'buy' and you laugh as you get him the muffin.

Maruki pays and makes sure to eye your name tag, giving you another smile and a 'thank you' before he exits. He makes it a goal to become a regular at this cafe.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo

#randoimago 31 days of october #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 royal x reader #takuto maruki x reader #maruki x reader

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naivesilver · 8 months

Note

RIGHT. hello again. I am once again in your inbox :) how about 'would you stop with the worry - flurry?' or 'i care cause it’s not fair!' or 'oh , sweetie , what’s wrong?' from the EAH ask for Cedar? 🥰

HI I AM VERY LATE but. You know. Gretel duty called AHSKDGASKHDKGNADSC thank you, I hope you'll be able to forgive me 💗💗💗 also, I did try to come up with some ACTUAL EAH content, but the urge was too strong, so have a little Uncle Wick and Baby Cedar snippet again LMAO

Ever After High Quote Starters

"Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?"

People made of wood can't cry, so Cedar really isn't crying, no siree.

What she is doing, instead, is kicking the underside of her bed with her foot, so the thumping noise will drown the yelling coming from downstairs. She hasn't been very successful thus far - her father and grandfather are louder even than the obnoxious clacking of wood against wood, and keep getting worse as they go - but Cedar is determined to continue, if only for lack of anything better to do; she can't get tired, and she's scared of what might happen if she leaves the room, so kicking it is, for now.

Besides, she feels kind of safe, laying on the floor under the bed, as though she were being kept in a neat little box. There'll be some dust flakes clinging to her hair when she crawls out, maybe, but it's not like she gets allergies, and no one will think to look for her there, not until they've calmed down a bit.

Or at least, that's what she thought. The creaking of the door opening makes her freeze, her leg dropping as the two men's row gets louder for a moment before it's shut out again - Cedar would hold her breath if she had any, but as it is, she can only wait, wide-eyed, as a pair of legs approach the bed heavily and kneel down to check underneath.

That's when Uncle Wick's thin, long face pops into view, smiling broadly at her. "Hello, pretty girl. Mind if I join you?"

"No." It's the truth. Of course it's the truth. Cedar is always happy to see Uncle Wick. It's just that she wishes it were Dad instead, because it would mean that the fight is over and she can leave her hiding spot for good.

Still, Grandfather says she shouldn't look a gifted Pegasus in the mouth, so she simply watches as her father's best friend lays on his back and wriggles to fir next to her - he's fairy tall, Uncle Wick, which means his long legs are probably poking out from under the bed in a very silly way, but Cedar isn't really in the mood for laughing, right now. She reprises her kicking, instead, eyes fixed stubbornly on the bed-frame.

A hand comes up to rub at her head, mussing her curly hair. "What's wrong, sweetpea? They shout at you too?"

"No. They just said I should go to my room." Which is much, much worse, in her opinion. "But they're talking 'bout Raven. Raven is my friend. Why can't I listen too?"

"I don't know, kiddo. They told me to get out too." Uncle Wick sighs heavily, his voice growing wistful.

"Look, they're gonna tire themselves out at some point, okay? That's how it always goes. No clue what old Milton told them, but they can't be mad at him forever."

The problem is, Cedar isn't so sure they're mad at Headmaster Grimm and not, say, each other. She wasn't allowed to hear much of what they were saying, but she caught enough to worry - Raven's name came up, and her mother's, and something Grandfather had done, and then off she was, pressing her hands against her ears in an useless attempt to ignore them all.

She's supposed to go to this headmaster's school with Raven when she's older, so she can follow her destiny and become a real girl. Are they going to quarrel so loudly, too, when it's time? Is that why she was sent away, so they don't start fighting too soon? It doesn't make sense.

And what does the Evil Queen have to do with it, anyway? She's dead. Cedar and Raven were supposed to be playing in the workshop while their fathers talked about what would happen after, but they got distracted enough, what with all those somber, whispering adults. "Nothing bad's happened to Raven, right?"

"Course not, Cedar. She's doing just fine. Bet you can go visit her during the weekend, if you ask your dad."

That's something, at least. And yet, the relief is short-lived, for a moment later Pinocchio's voice raises even louder and angrier, so different from his customary soft tones. "Listen, I don't know what Grimm asked you to do, but don't tell me it's something good, because I won't hexing believe you, Father-"

Cedar shifts her position subtly, curling around the man's arm with an ear pressed against the sleeve of his jacket. "Can you tell me a story, Uncle Wick?"

"Sure." Uncle Wick sounds like he's smiling. Cedar is grateful for it, even though he must only be doing it to be brave, to keep her calm and distracted - maybe his voice will succeed where her foot failed, droning on and on until she can't hear anything else anymore. "Once upon a time, there was a very clever wooden girl-"

Cedar finds herself smiling back a bit, despite herself. She appreciates the effort, she really does, even if he's being silly. "That's not right. You always say the same thing."

"Yeah, 'cause all the stories I like to tell are true. Anyway, where was I- Once upon a time, there was a beautiful wooden girl, and she was the cleverest girl in all the realm..."

#lizardthelizard #ask meme #ever after high #eah #pinocchio #cedar wood #lampwickcore #fanfic #do you ever think about the fact that only about 4 people knew that raven's mom was alive?#and that one of them was the grandfather of one of her bffas????? who couldn't tell his granddaughter #bc she was CURSED TO SPILL SECRETS????#anyway I have great love for my rebel girls and their parents. they all deserved better smh

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the-bar-sinister · 23 days

Text

The Mechanics of Emotion (17440 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

Simon had spent the past year living like it was going to be his last year on earth– because it was. But now he is still alive, and there are questions unasked that demand answers. Just what is his relationship with the detective going to be going forward? And what complications of his own does Bobby Fulbright have up his sleeve?

Not to mention that there are two more members of the Phantom Organization who've been captured that Simon now needs to prosecute, and Athena must defend. Love and chaos in LA. In justice we trust– but who understands the mechanics of emotion?

December 27, 10:35 am

Simon and Athena had been poking around the so-called "Blackquill Manor" for the last half an hour.

The house was a bit of a mess– mostly from the various unused rooms having accumulated dust and cobwebs, save for the staple rooms of the ‘kitchen, living room, and bedroom’...as well as a room it seemed Aura set up as a home lab, complete with various robotics half completed on a worktable that looked like it’d seen it’s fair share of experiments pass it’s surface.

Athena had had a sneezing fit when she tried entering one of the bedrooms. Simon’s parents bedroom…and gotten a noseful of dust and negligence. She’d been surprised when Simon’s old room had been neat as a pin, and even MORE surprised when Aura’s room wasn’t a mad scientist’s rats nest, and more… elegantly comfortable.

It was clear that while it would make a pretty good living space for Simon– it’d be a bit of an ordeal to get it as clean as it should be.

“I guess she tended to get so wrapped up in her work that she kept forgetting to come home, or ah…to dust the rooms she didn’t think about.”

"Yes, it seems you were right to be dubious about my father's bed," Simon drawled as they made their way back to the living room.

“Yeahhhhh.” Athena grimaced as she sagged. “Don’t even wanna think about how many spiders may be in that thing.”

"Disgusting. The worst of it is that Aura will likely get cross with me if I decide to clean it up."

“You really think so?” Athena’s eyes widened. “Huh…I mean…yeah actually knowing Aura you’re probably not wrong about that. She’d either laugh at it triggering my allergies if I helped, or get pissed with you messing with it…”

She tugged at her hair. “but your room’s really clean, at least.”

"So I noticed." Simon crossed his arms, and glanced away. "My sister has clearly been taking care of it in my absence."

“She was hoping that she could save you before your execution.” Athena mused, thinking back over Aura’s furious defiance of fate. The desperation that led her to force a retrial no matter who may get hurt.

She couldn’t say she wouldn’t have gone that far herself if she’d somehow failed to become a lawyer in time.

"Well, I suppose she got her wish– devil's bargain that it was. I hope she's enjoying the fruits of her labor." Simon's smile twitched, and Athena could feel his apprehension. It was clear that the thoughts of his sister were difficult for him.

Athena reached out to put her hand on his arm.

“I don’t know…I.. I can’t bring myself to visit just yet. But Simon, if you’re not ready to talk about her, or if there’s something you’re worried about..”

He leaned a little into her touch, and sighed. "There's plenty that I'm worried about, I'm afraid, Athena. We both know it wouldn't do any good for me to try to hide that from you. I visited her this morning and I… said very little about the last week."

Athena felt a ping of nerves as she murmured “...Halblicht?”

She could imagine Aura’s reaction upon finding out, not only that the man who killed Athena’s mother was still alive, but was in some sort of ambiguous relationship with her brother…and that Simon had been lying about him for days.

It wasn’t only that– Athena had no idea if Aura even forgave her.

No, every detail of the past week was a time bomb waiting to go off in Aura Blackquill’s already tumultuous and volatile heart.

"Halblicht," Simon agreed with a leaden tone. "I can't imagine explaining it to her. Saying it to her face."

Simon's anxiety and sadness warred together in an emotion she didn't often feel from Simon– shame.

Athena’s own emotions were complicated– unsure and nervous about her own future, but she knew one thing.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed , Simon. ” She squeezed his arm. “I don’t know if she’ll understand. Probably not right away. But you don’t have to feel ashamed of your feelings about him. Aura…I care about her too…but her wounds of the heart aren’t healed and it means she’s prone to lashing out. That’s not a reflection on your feelings.”

Simon put his hand on her arm, and she could feel the tension running through him. "Whatever you say, and however right or wrong you may be– I still feel that shame. I don't know what might be able to abate it. But I will bear it for now, because well– "

Athena felt the pulse of joy from Simon's heart that could only be one thing. Love.

“Because you love him, Simon…” Athena gave him an outward smile. “I can tell.”

Her internal emotions had dulled to the low and quiet hum she was well used to, the bare flickers of personal anxiety and joy for Simon, and something unfamiliar and flickering

It’s no surprise he loves them. They’re charming, fascinating, kind even after everything, and provided comfort and affection during the worst time in Simon’s life. Even with the heartbreak and confusion, love bloomed easy enough. She quashed her anxieties, her selfish worries of ‘will I still fit’ in favor of nursing the quiet hum of joy to the surface and her smile.

“We’ll figure out what to do about Aura. I– I’ll do what I can.”

"Thank you, Athnea, I ah…" he trailed off and squeezed her hand. "I feel somewhat unworthy of your endless kindness."

Athena’s smile didn’t leave as she squeezed his hand tightly.

“Simon, come on. You know you’re not unworthy. You’ve got seven years of missed kindness to catch back up on, right?” She looked up at him “and I care about you, you know? I really do want you to be happy. No matter what.”

"I appreciate that, Athena. I–" he glanced away, though his hand didn't leave hers. "Why don't we find out if my sister has any bloody coffee in the kitchen, shall we? Instead of standing around in the living room like a pair of awkward lumps."

Athena squeezed his hand and started to drag him towards the kitchen. “Alright, alright…but if she doesn’t, I’ll buy us coffee on Mr. Wright’s dime as SOON as we leave, yeah?”

"Please do," he scowled, following her toward his old family kitchen. "But, it's not about the coffee in this case. It's about…"

His anxiety flashed bright in her mind.

Athena twitched, a physical reaction to a strong emotion that reverberated through her as she pushed the kitchen door open and stepped inside.

“...” she let him continue.

"About us, Athena. If you'd hear me out. Finish the conversation we were having in the car."

He didn't look at her, instead glancing around at the kitchen that must once have been familiar to him.

Athena took a deep, shaky breath , before she flashed her biggest smile.

“I’m ready to get back to that, yeah. I’ll hear you out. Do you need me to help you look around, or…or should I have a seat?”

"Why don't you help me if you don't mind? It's not as if I know my way around the kitchen any more,"

The kitchen was pin-neat, but absolutely filled with gadgets of all sorts…many of which looked like they’d never been used. Some kind of modified mixer sat quietly beside a spice cabinet fitted with a gauge displaying a temperature reading and some interface on one end of the countertop…and an absolutely ornate kitchen scale still bearing traces of flour from the last time it’d been used.

Athena wandered, trying to open the spice cabinet first before it beeped at her and she startled back .“Hah!?”

Immediately, Simon was there behind her to steady her before she could fall over. "Careful there. Or you're going to make a nasty mess on my sister's kitchen floor."

Athena’s heart beat quickly as she leaned back against him “but it yelled at me, Simon!”

She couldn’t help the indignant whine in her voice.

"And? I yell at you all the time!" He huffed, but she felt his amusement and could tell that behind her he was grinning that sly grin of his. He righted her on her feet and then released her. "Another funny surprise from my sister it seems."

Athena huffed. “I’m going to shake her when she’s out of prison. Shake her VERY MUCH for this.”

She had turned pink, and was brushing herself off when she looked up at it again. “Looks like you have to select what kind of spices you want…and it must unlock them? Is this thing temperature and air controlled?”

Simon observed the strange and elaborate cabinet configuration. "It would seem so. A nefarious barrier between ourselves and our goal."

“She really is kind of a cad, isn’t she?” Athena huffed. “At least it’s only a button press away.”

She reached up and cycled before she found something reading ‘coffees and tea’ and hit the green enter button.

Off to her left, one of the cabinet lights flicked green and clicked open with a hiss of air pressure.

Simon bustled over toward the lighted cabinets. "Ah, here we are, I suppose? And one of these gadgets ought to make coffee. Shame she doesn't have something simpler."

“I think she thinks it’s organized in her own mind! And it’s probably alright for keeping food fresh for longer, too…” She shook her head. “You’re a samurai with a sister who’s a technology obsessed sci-fi antagonist.”

"How miserably anime," he drawled. He got down the coffee, and went hunting for something resembling a coffee maker.

“You say that as if you hate anime, Simon.” Athena smiled at him as she trotted on his heels. “...and I know for a fact you’re kind of a huge nerd for it. I still gotta get you and Halblicht to sit down with me for …for..ah..”

She trailed off “Macross, Love across the universe…”

Next to the mixer there was a glass pitcher and some kind of gadget sat on top of it, perhaps her own take on an automatic coffee machine– with a twist. It didn’t look like it was going to explode if they used it.

Simon snorted as he looked over the gadgets poking at them with thinly veiled disdain.

"Get me some water, Athena," he harumphed. "I think this is the right machine. As for anime, I prefer live action dramas. But I'll admit I was intrigued by the one you were trying to show us."

He measured out coffee grounds, putting them in the filter and giving it a dubious look as he put it into place.

Athena was all but stopped as she went to go grab the water, when she noticed a switch on the machine. “Simon, it looks like it’s connected to the sink system.”

She leaned over and pushed the switch down.

A small arm popped up a moment later, and began to swirl around the pot at a slow and steady interval as hot water poured from somewhere below the machine and into the grounds.

It was some sort of automatic pour over machine.

“You were intrigued though, huh? It’s one of my favorites, you know.”

Simon stared at the machine in disbelief and betrayal. He shook his head and focused on Athena instead.

"One of your favorites, hmm? Well, I'll have to tolerate sitting through it for certain then."

Athena laughed, leaning on the counter as the machine went about its work .

“Geeze Simon, you must be a riot at parties. But if you’ll deign to sit through it…I think you’ll have fun."

Simon smirked and tapped his temple. "I wouldn't know, I haven't been to a party in a long time."

He watched as the machine squirted steaming coffee into a pair of mugs.

“We’ll have to hold one for you special then.” Athena walked over and dropped herself into one of the chairs.

Simon picked up the full mugs, and plopped gracelessly down into the chair right next to her. He handed her a cup of coffee.

"Are you trying to torment me, then?"

Athena grabbed the coffee with an impish wink. “Maybe a little bit. I’m allowed to have my fun after you kept me busy for 7 years trying to save your butt.”

"I suppose I can concede that– but I won't let you harass me uncontested. Consider yourself warned." He smirked over his coffee and took a long sip. "Hmm. Adequate."

“I’ve been warned , Mr. Blackquill.’ Athena took a sip of it as well. It, honestly was pretty good, but– she supposed Simon must have had some rigid standards when it came to coffee. “It’s pretty good?”

"It's acceptable. A bitter brew to accompany a bitter conversation, I suppose." He took another sip and looked over at her. "Would you like to start, or shall I?"

“Bitter conversation…” Athena’s smile faltered. “You should start, Simon. I’m likely to get tripped up trying to manage emotions and …and get nowhere fast.”

"Alright then, so be it." He took a deep breath, and turned toward her more fully, coffee in his hands. "Athena– for seven long years I lived among scoundrels and the condemned, as a man likewise condemned. As a scoundrel. Such was my company. The dregs of society. The ruffians and outcasts. Such things leave their mark– and I was not so noble a man to begin with."

His dark eyes stayed trained on her, watching her. His torrid emotions had become almost placid– not quiet, but harmonious. Inscrutable.

Athena nodded slowly. “...it’s only natural it’d leave a mark, Simon.”

She folded her hands around the coffee mug to stare him down. “Even if you didn’t commit the crime, socially speaking you were as much a criminal as the rest…”

"So I was. And so I am. I have known many kinds of scoundrels these last seven years. Walked among them. Learned their ways. Been changed by them. I strive to be a good man, Athena, but I am a ruffian."

Athena’s brow furrowed slightly as she listened. It was true, of course, he’d been learning from ‘scoundrels and ruffians’ as he put it for 7 years. Made friends with them, including some who’d stepped back into the people around her’s lives as their sentences abated…

It was only natural that it’d change him from the man she’d known growing up, into the man she faced in court….but… “...can I ask you something, Simon?”

"You may," he said evenly. "Though I have more to say."

He gestured for her to speak.

“No…” Athena held her hand up. “Go on. This can wait till I hear the rest.”

Are you trying to convince me that you’re somehow not ‘noble’ enough for me?

He took a breath. "Very well. Athena– you deserve a good man. You deserve a prince who will ride into the sunset with you on a white horse. You deserve a man who will devote his whole heart to you, and to no one else. But I am not that man. I am a ruffian. And I know the ways of ruffians."

I knew it. Her shoulders sagged, just the slightest as he continued and her eyes flicked down towards the table. He’s trying to convince me he’s not good enough. That I’m looking for…deserve…a prince to come riding to my rescue like we joked about that night. But I’m not like most people. My heart can’t…won’t…feel the same things they do in the same ways…and I don’t care if the rules of society say a pure and devoted prince is what I should somehow want. He’d changed since the UR-1 Incident…but did I ever make him think it was a bad thing outside his imprisonment? Between that…Europe’s scene…and the Wunder Bar and the Wright Anything Agency…why would I ever judge him for any of that?

His dark gaze swept over her as he spoke.

"I don't know if you want a ruffian, when you could have a prince. And I don't know what the hell my dear detective twins want. But if you want a ruffian, Athena, and if they're… amenable to such a thing… we could perhaps come to a rough arrangement. The three– four of us. It's no noble romance that you deserve. But that's all I have to offer you."

Athena startled as he continued, her mouth open to object before he’d continued. Her gaze softened, and she turned a surprised pink.

“....I don’t think I deserve a noble romance, Simon.” she said in a quiet and even voice, omitting any of her usual projection. She rubbed her arm, and gave him a small but genuine smile.

“And not because of self esteem. I was the one who came on the white horse, but I’m not a prince. I’m unusual– I’m difficult to understand, and I see things in ways most people don’t. I’m not …I’m not looking for a prince , or a noble romance. I’m looking for someone who cares about me, and I care for them back.” She turned a slight pink despite her subdued emotional state. “....and I did find that cramped bed in Cauli strangely comfortable.”

He lifted his chin, looking her over, and he reached out his free hand and touched her arm. "You said as much in the car. I wasn't sure if I was reading too much into your intentions when you said it, but– it's why I felt like I could say what I just did."

Athena’s eyes hesitantly met with his, and she placed her hand against his fingers with a quiet smile.

“I’m glad you could say it…and I mean it when I say I’m willing to try it, Simon. Coming to some kind of ‘rough arrangement’ if they’re amenable, I mean. I can’t promise I’ll be smooth or that I won’t falter here and there, I’m still learning a lot about how to process these sorts of feelings , but…”

Simon's fingers curled around her arm gently as she put her hand on his. "I don't think that I'm far ahead of you, admittedly."

She nodded, and leaned over the table. “We’re both learning, Mr. Halblicht is sure to be too– it’s likely to be messy, but I’m willing to try. You know my feelings for you, and I can assure you that..that I want this, if we’re all amenable to it.”

"The heart wants what the heart wants, I suppose," he said, looking off into the distance. He slipped his arm around her. "This is going to be messy, Athena, if it goes forward. We're likely going to hurt each other in unexpected ways. But I suppose I'm a selfish man in my way."

Athena leaned into his arm and nodded slowly.

“The heart wants what the heart wants. And I’m– I’m a little selfish myself. I don’t want to give up those moments of joy I started to find in Cauli, with you or with them.” She smiled wanly. “I’ll wade through any mess, or hurt, if it means a future where we can be a part of each other's lives. If we’re all amenable...”

"I'm supposed to meet up with Halblicht in a couple of hours or so," Simon murmured thoughtfully. "I suppose it will be a good idea to get the conversation out of the way."

Athena took a deep breath, and looped both her arms around him in a sudden gesture, leaning under his arm with a small smile

“It’s probably for the best. Like ripping a bandaid off. Can’t know how to move forward if we’re still in limbo, right?”

"No. And I've been in limbo for too long, Athena. Seven years too long. Do forgive me if it means that I rush forward."

Athena leaned up and kissed his cheek “I think we’ve all spent too long in limbo, Simon. I’m…I’m not exactly keen on waiting around cautiously either. So I’d say you’re more than forgiven already!”

"Thank you, Athena. And I'm sorry too, for all the ways in the future that I will surely hurt you, and let you down. I'm a humble man– I know it will happen."

Athena chuckled softly.

“It might. But life isn’t a fairy tale or a noble stage play. All that’s just part of life.” She poked his chest. “I’m sure to let you down , or even hurt you, sometimes too.”

Simon laughed incredulously. "I'm almost looking forward to it. A relationship, perhaps, is like a struggle in the courtroom. But– let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still have to take our case to Bobby and Robert."

Athena winked at him.

“We know a lot about struggling in the courtroom, Mr. Blackquill.” She rubbed her chin thoughtfully “...if we gotta take our case to them…should we prepare evidence?”

Simon gave her a dubious look and raised an eyebrow. "I'm curious just what you'll suggest we prepare."

“Well…if the things I’ve gleaned from the sorts of shows and comics Mr. Wright owns are true– a powerpoint or slideshow is traditional.”

Simon stared at her with increasing dumbfounded condescension. "Go on."

Athena shrunk down in her chair, and finally drank a sip of her cooling coffee.

“you…put…together a slideshow…of…uhm..” she murmured “pictures and pros and cons…” She took a longer sip of the coffee with a flush “OH! M ixtapes! Mixtapes are even more traditional! Mr. Wright even endorsed that one!”

"A mix tape. A slide-show. And what, pray tell Cykes-dono, do you suggest we include here? Go on. Give me an example of what the content of this would be."

Athena gave him an awkward smile, shrugging her shoulders with a grin “A song that makes you think of the three of us? To uh…really sell it as a polypossibility?”

Simon put his hand to his face, and dragged it down his cheek, staring at her in utter horror. "... yes I think Bobby would love that."

#cykesquill #phantomquill #blackbright #cykesbright #phantomcykes #phantomcykesquillbright #athena cykes #simon blackquill #bobby fulbright #ace attorney #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #poly ship #archive of our own #fic: the mechanics of emotion

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beautifulhigh · 1 year

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I have a question for you that I really hope you'll answer. But if you think it might start discourse you'd rather avoid, I understand if you ignore this.

So I love both OG and LS and I follow a bunch of popular blogs in both fandoms. but so many of those folks watch only one of the two shows and are pretty rude about the other one, by insulting cast members and making fun of even the popular well-received storylines. often they don't tag such posts in any particular way so there's no way to filter those out. I sent a few of them asks requesting if they'd tag such posts. Some agreed to but they haven't actually done it. I've seen you interact in a pretty friendly way with some of those accounts and I'm wondering, how do you do it? Everyone always says to unfollow but I genuinely don't want to miss out on the other posts these ppl share. I enjoy those other posts. It's just these particular posts that diss the shows that I want to avoid but can't. I've tried ignoring it, I've tried laughing it off, but I don't think I'm very good at managing my emotions because I always still end up feeling low and negative when I see such posts. How do you manage to interact with people with opinions you clearly don't share? I'd really appreciate any tips. I really don't want to withdraw from these two fandoms but I don't know how to remain while also maintaining a healthy emotional state.

Firstly, I'm sorry this has happened to you. I really am. And I want to stress that this reply is 100% around my experience and the way I have curated my fandom experience, and YMMV. I hope that it doesn't vary too much but this is how I deal with it. I'm going to tag a few people in this, people who I have on my dash, purely to illustrate the diversity and how you can approach things.

I'm also going to pre-empt things and say that if you read a line and you get mad at me for that one line, I want you to do two things. Firstly, I want you to go outside and touch grass. Secondly, I want you to maybe read the full thing and engage some level of critical thinking before you start yelling at me that I'm being inconsiderate because you have a grass allergy so how DARE I tell you to go touch grass?

Also, because I want this to have a bit of a reach and I know people do curate their dashes, I'm going to be a bit sneaky with how I refer to things to actively circumvent any filters. Should make sense what I'm actually referring to but if you're not sure then please ask.

Step one

Curate your experience. I mean this. One of the few joys of this hellsite is that you are in control over your dash. You can't control who people on your dash reblog but you can start with who is on your dash. If you don't want to block anyone then you can filter by blog names and install add ons like Tumblr Savior.

Step two

Remember why you're on this hellsite in the first place. Chances are it's for fandom purposes. And, given the premise of your ask, I'm going to focus on the TV element of it. So you're here because you like one or both of the weewoo shows and you want to share thoughts and ideas and reblogs of gif sets of people who are WAY too pretty to just be out there like normal people. And because we're hardwired that way, we want to seek connections with people. So we follow blogs and we talk to people and we have our mutuals and we message then and chat with them and we develop relationships with them because we all watch the same TV show.

But – and this is the point that I think a lot of fandom forgets. It's a fucking TV show. That's it. A silly little show which is 99% designed for entertainment and distraction. I am not ignoring the fact that there will be parts of both shows which have impact above and beyond the show, but Ryan Murphy et al did not set out to make shows with the primary goals of changing people's lives.

It is a TV show. It isn't actually life or death. So the first thing you need to ask yourself I have represented in a nice little flow chart with ALT text:

Negative and hateful ideas

Yes, it's a TV show. But that doesn't stop shitty people saying shitty things. I love that both OG and LS have a diverse cast. I love that both of them explore difficult issues such as addiction and a sense of self-worth. I love that both of them have characters who are tragedy magnets and are both dealing with an entire back story of guilt and grief and a sense of failure and so we are rooting for them to find the self-worth that we know they deserve. Is this Evan? Tyler Kennedy? Both of them? Maybe Eduado, or Carlos? Both captains have their tragedy stories.

But what I'm talking about here is people making comments that are, no matter your views or stances, way out of line. Be them about the characters or the actors, you know exactly the kind that I mean. Commenting on the ethnicity, gender, sexuality of characters/actors. Making statements about race or religion. The Big Stuff that most of us know is way out of line.

So if someone is hating on "Buddy" because one of them is of Latinex descent? Screw you, step on a Lego. If you're hating on "Tarlus" because both of the actors are queer? You can fuck right off now. If you dislike Hen's storylines because she's a proud, queer black woman? Sit on a spike. If you want Paul to shut up and go away because he's trans? Walk off a short pier.

If you wish Owen had less seggsy and screen time? You'll find friends in both camps! But that's about the character and the storytelling.

A good rule of thumb is: can it be changed? If no, don't be a bitch about it. Oliver can't change his birthmark, Alisha can't change her skin colour, Rafael can't change his sexuality, Brian can't change his gender identity.

But they could write "Buddy" as queer. They could write Owen not drooling over some woman. And so we are going to have and express opinions over this.

We know where those lines are and those are the ones we have to draw. We have to shut down those voices and make it clear that they are not welcome because a) we need to make sure there are more safe spaces than there aren't, and b) we need to send the message that this kind of hate isn't OK.

Now where fandom seems to have an issue is where it comes to different opinions. This is because we equate what we like with who we are, and for many people fandom is a part of their identity as a person. There are so many reasons for this – good and otherwise. You see yourself represented in the show, the characters. The storylines resonate with you. It got you through the worst time in your life. You met amazing people because of it. Fandom is a good thing, it truly is, and it exists BECAUSE people take shows and characters and storylines to heart.

So if you come at the fandom then it feels like you're under attack. But you're not. Have another flow chart, also with alt text.

And I'm going to tag my wonderful friend @capseycartwright in this because she hates LS with a passion. I would go so far as to say it's probably visceral? Still follow her, still love her, and I still read her "Buddy" fics because she's an amazing writer. And the reason for this is because there isn't a single comment she makes about LS that is personal or hateful or spiteful. She just doesn't like it.

Now even if she did make a post saying "anyone who watches LS is dumb" I'll still follow her. Because if I follow my flow chart, even though I would call her a friend and maybe say I know her? She's not someone I'm related to and I don't have to deal with her on the day to day. Also she's not saying "Jen is dumb for liking LS". Even if she was, still not related so whatevs.

I'm also going to tag @paperstorm who isn't an OG fan, doesn't watch it at all, isn't at all shy in expressing her opinions on anything. If OG stuff crosses her dash she doesn’t engage. [Edited to clarify]

Now when @capseycartwright makes a post about LS, one of two things happen. Most of the time I just keep on scrolling. She's expressing her opinion about a show she doesn't watch, doesn't like, and has picked up on something that she's commenting on. She's not saying anything awful that would be picked up on the first flow chart so why do I care? I'm not going to get her to change her mind and honestly? It doesn't matter if she does or she doesn't.

I may comment – like I did on her wedding post – if I feel I can offer something to help explain something. She posted about "Tarlus" not cancelling the wedding so, as someone who has watched the episodes and had the information, I pointed out that they were absolutely going to do that but even the grieving widow was all for them having it go ahead.

The trick here is to be respectful. If I come at her with "well ACTUALLY" then it's not going to work. I just dropped in, said my bit, then left. People are still going to think the wedding shouldn't have happened - hell, there's people in the LS fandom who feel like that.

Could it have been written differently? Yes. So opinions get to be had and respected so long as they're respectful, as per the first flow chart.

We can debate if they should have gotten married in the episode. I'm not debating their right to get married.

When @paperstorm responds to an OG ask about something, same principle. Is she being hateful? No. Can I add anything to help explain/clarify? If yes, do it then move on. [Edited for clarity]

Be the change etc etc

If I wanted to start a fight, I could drop into the tags "OMG Buddy/Tarlus is awful and the characters deserve so much better". And people who have made fandom a huge part of who they are will take that a lot more to heart than people who haven't. Only you know where you fall on that spectrum.

Most people are not going to change their minds. I'm not going to be able to convince @capseycartwright that Tarlus are endgame and get her signed up to the "Peaches and Cherries" crew. I'm not going to convince @paperstorm that the OG crew are a wonderful example of how the love of your found family can help you rebuild and find strength with your blood family. And neither of them are going to convince me to bail on the other show!

Fandom doesn't recruit through arguments. Fandom recruits through gif sets and fics and metas and all of the good stuff that comes out of enjoying a show. Fandom grows through people sharing their love of a show and the characters involved in it. It doesn't recruit and it doesn't grow through arguments.

So if people are saying stuff you don't agree with, so long as they are not hurting anyone? Let them. Why are you ruining your peace and your enjoyment yelling into the wind? If you don't follow them and you're only coming across them because they are tagging their hate so it shows in the tags, then realise they're doing it to get the reaction from you. I'm not letting that petty win so I will keep on scrolling. And if it's on my dash? Well then I will just check that they've not decided to indulge in some -ism statements, and then I will keep on scrolling.

Because fandom is supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be uplifting. And there is enough shit out there in the world right now without yucking someone else's yum. Even if you don't understand it. (I don't understand how anyone can eat mushrooms, but I'm not running around a restaurant knocking them off people's plates.)

We like different things. We like what others dislike. And there are so many ways for you to find room and balance those things in your life if you want to. If they don't want to then that's their issue, not yours. Think about the friends you have IRL – do you share every single interest with them? Some of my closest friends are huge Drag Race fans, but not once have I had an issue with them discussing it in our group chat or making plans which exclude me for them to go and see shows.

I don't care that @capseycartwright is a huge Buddy fan. She loves them, it brings her joy, and so I love that for her. I love that she has something in this world which brings her enjoyment, even if I don't share it.

I don't care that @paperstorm doesn't like OG, and I'm pretty certain she doesn't care that I do.

What I do care about is whether it matters in the grand scheme of things. And honestly? More of fandom doesn't matter in the Big Picture than does. It matters when we use it to do great things. It matters when it helps people feel seen and heard and represented. It doesn't matter when your ship isn't canon/gets married.

tl;dr – if people are being deliberately shitty then the block button is your friend. Otherwise, why does it matter if someone has a different opinion to you?

I know this has gotten stupid long, but I wanted to do it justice because you seem to be struggling with it. And if you ever want to talk to me off anon then please do.

#fandom talk #jen answers stuff #anonymous #not tagging shows or ships #because I don't want this caught in blacklists

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mjinzx · 2 years

Text

[11:15 AM] akaashi keiji

take me out next time.

wc: 1,060 | genre: fluff | fem! reader x akaashi keiji | cw: mentions of allergies, profanity, lewd jokes, 1st pov

[11:15 AM] akaashi keiji | bonus!

~~~

I didn’t know when it started.

At first, it was creepy. A pack of lollipops suddenly appearing inside my locker? Come on, it’s a locker for a reason, only I could unlock it, more so put stuff inside. It annoyed me, so much that I was a breath away from reporting it to the school.

But fate had a different storyline for me, and Mr. lollipop supplier (as i like to call it). Days of finding different flavored lollipops turned into weeks, and as time flew by, I grew out of my irritation. You could say that I got used to it, but never would I get used to the different notes I receive with the said sweets.

Usually, it would be the casual “good mornings” and “have a nice days”. Unknowingly, I would smile. No, more like a grin or a smirk. But I would never admit that it made me feel all giddy inside. Nope. Not ever!

Or so I thought.

It’s been two weeks since the whole set-up. I go to school, attend my morning class, go to my locker and find another pack of lollipops that I can add to my collection. I always wondered why mr. lollipop supplier decided that it would be lollipops. It could’ve been gummy bears, right? Maybe he had a special connection to the little suckers. I remember yesterday it was bubblegum, last week was peach-mango flavored, my favorite so far.

But today, bright red welcomes my eyes.

Cherry, huh? That’s too bad.

Now, don’t get me wrong! I appreciate it, of course. I would never complain about food, like ever. But the thing is, I am allergic to cherries. Yes, I get a really bad allergic reaction whenever I eat cherries, including artificial flavoring.

I didn’t want all of this to just go to waste, I’m not much of a waster, if that’s a word. So, like any normal human being, I decided to just give it to my friends! I kind of feel bad for not eating it, even though I shouldn’t because they came from a complete stranger/potential stalker, but we’re ignoring that part for obvious reasons. I don’t feel like having an allergy attack right now, not ever actually.

My thoughts were interrupted when someone came barging in.

Oh?

That’s not Suzuki sensei, rather it’s the class president.

Akaashi Keiji.

“Good morning. I apologize for the short notice, unfortunately, Suzuki sensei cannot attend math class today. Although, she did say to do an advance reading for today’s lesson. That’s all, thank you.” He said.

Queue the cheers from the students, looks like everyone’s happy about having no class, including me.

“Hey, let’s suck lollipops.” My friend told me, mimicking a sucking gesture, which honestly had a lewd look to it. Slightly baffled, I just nodded at her and laughed. Thus began their lollipop sucking, I just looked at them like they’re from another planet.

Looking back to the front of the room, I find Akaashi-san with a straight face. He’s always like that, has a poker-face with a monotonous voice, and he’s always speaking as if someone did a grave mistake to him. Like he’s mad or something, but maybe that’s just his way of speaking since he is the class president, to invoke authority, maybe? Bottom line is, he’s a scary guy.

While i was oceans deep in my thoughts, I didn’t realize that O was already staring at him, a bit too much. Noticing my rude behavior, he looked back at me and raised an eyebrow.

With my eyes widened and parted lips, I looked away.

Shit. That’s so embarrassing!

Was all i could think of. I assume he can see how flustered I am, as he was still staring at me. It was starting to get hot, like really hot. I’m not sure if that’s just me feeling flushed, or the AC is just busted. (maybe because blood is rushing thru my cheeks?!)

Saved by the bell. Students started getting out of the classroom, and so did I. I failed to notice the cheeky grins my friends gave me as they gor out of the classroom. Fumbling with my stuff, I quickly took my bag and headed out (tried to), still avoiding his gaze.

Just as i was about to go out—

“Hey, Y/N-san.”

Uh-oh.

Shit. This was not how I expected my morning to go.

I faced him, with a not-so-genuine smile on my face. “Akaashi-san! Is something the matter?” I responded. Politely, of course, shaking off the feeling of nervousness in my body.

“Forgive me. I was just wondering why you are not eating your usual lollipop just like every day?” He asked. (more like demanded but moving on)

Interesting.

How did he know that I eat lollipops every morning?

“Oh, that. Well, long-story-short, someone has been giving me a pack of lollipops every morning, today’s flavour was just not my cup of tea.” I chuckled.

“Oh… You don’t like cherries?”

Interesting, again.

I looked at him weirdly. First, he knew my usual get-up every morning, and now he knew the flavour of the lollipops?

“I’m sorry, but how did you know it was cherries?” Imagine me having the most confused face, like right now.

“Wait, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I’m the one who's been giving you packs of lollipops every morning. You didn’t know?”

I-

Blink. “I had no idea.” Blink.

“I thought you knew since your friends saw me putting the lollipops in your locker one time.”

Oh, screw them! “They never told me anything. but wait! Why are you doing it, though?” I asked. Hey, I didn’t want to assume, even though I kind of know the answer now.

“Isn’t it obvious? I like you, Y/N-san.” He said with such finality in his voice, his eyes lovingly gazing at me.

“And, I was hoping you’d want to go out with me. Do you?” He asked, watching me carefully.

Hell yeah, I do!!!

Yup, this was not how I expected my day to go. I like it, though.

“Of course! I’d love to go out with you.” I smiled, genuine this time.

“That’s… That’s great! Thank you, Y/N-san.” He smiled. No, he shyly smiled.

You can say that we just stared at each other’s eyes for a good 5 minutes. I don’t hate it, but I’m definitely not complaining.

a/n: no thoughts, just akaashi as class president (*_*)

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu timestamps #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi fluff #akaashi imagine #akaashi timestamp #akaashi x you #akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #mjinzx

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south-sea · 10 months

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PLEASE tell me more about your version of Mephiles. What does he like to do as a hobby? How often is Shadow involved in said hobbies? What's their relationship like? Are they friendly?

Even if your thoughts aren't complete you can give me the cliffnotes version please please please please

disclaimer: i am very ill thanks to a medication allergy mishap earlier today, so if this is more ramble-y than usual, i apologize! it has been a rough week health-wise, but for that same reason this couldn't have been better timed. silly guy mephiles is like 1/2 of what my brain is laser focused on rn to get me through it apparently. that said, this definitely got a bit longer than i expected,

that's the catch: they don't currently have hobbies (if you don't count being an eccentric goofball). at least, it's difficult to explore new ones on account of being physically tied to semi-modern shadow.

so i'll start there: their relationship is a tenuous one at best. semi-modern doesn't fully trust them. some part of him expects mephiles to slip back into old ways, or to find out they've just been faking the amnesia the whole time. standard tropey stuff like what happened with Mr. Tinker in IDW. and similarly, mephiles is in fact Not Faking It.

on the flipside, it's hard to tell if mephiles is actually bothered by this trend of distrust everyone seems to show them. outwardly, they just roll with/don't even acknowledge it. inwardly, one might be right to assume they've tethered themself to semi-modern's literal shadow specifically to ensure they have at least one guaranteed person to fall back on. people aren't exactly wrong to be cautious of them, either. they are uncanny and unsettling in every way. and when i said shadow's basically their hostage, i wasn't entirely joking.

but shadow's not stupid. mephiles may not remember being a god, but the entitlement and sense of constant attention is burned into their existence. while their methods are usually harmless and subtle if not just silly, they take what they want. shadow knows this, but he lets it slide because ultimately there's no harm being done, and at least this way, he's able to keep tabs on them more easily.

that said, i'd not say they're unfriendly with each other. shadow tolerates their antics, but not begrudgingly. he just thinks they're odd, and occasionally embarrassing. mephiles meanwhile is just having a grand ol' time, all the time. they don't push their luck with shadow and intentionally annoy him, but they generally do whatever, however they want to. even if on average they can't be farther away than four blocks or so, it's not uncommon for semi-modern to turn a corner and find them hosting a tea party with some stranger surrounded by a bunch of shadowy minions.

tea tends to be a recurring theme with them, if just because i'm pulling from various mephistopheles interpretations as inspiration, with a little bit of mad hatter/sheogorath thrown in for good measure. they're meant to be this wacky goofball on the surface, less because they're ~off their rocker~, and more because they're a timeless god that has no concept of/regard for what mortals consider "normal". underneath it, they're suppressing a desperate need/fear.

they want company. what's a good way to get company? you have one of your shadowy minions shepherd some unwitting soul toward a table you've just made out of thin air and serve them tea and snacks. nevermind that this poor person now probably feels pressured into staying put thanks to all the other minions circled around acting as butlers. sometimes it's a genuine attempt to connect to someone. sometimes they're just lying to themselves. they have company now; they're not letting go of it easily.

even then, they're not aggressive or intentionally threatening. it's spooky as hell, sure, and definitely manipulative, but if the person were to try to leave, mephiles would ultimately let them go if an insistent "stay, stay!" doesn't work. at that point they just return to shadow and sulk.

my absolute favorite thing about them is that more often than not, they really do mean well. their motivations might be terribly selfish, but they're not always aware of those motivations themself, so it's all done innocently. they say or do some truly unsettling things that come off as thinly-veiled threats, but in reality they're just being sincere in a blunt way. (which is not to say they're faultless; the whole "lowkey using shadow/holding him hostage" isn't exactly great and i'm not going to claim it is, even if things turn out alright.)

in any case, the two share a mind link of sorts. whether mephiles is physically in semi-modern's literal shadow, or blocks away, they're able to communicate more or less telepathically. oftentimes if shadow looks like he's spacing out or brooding more than usual, he's literally just talking to mephiles (and occasionally maria). i'd liken mephiles's approach to conversation in this way to a pleasantly annoying friend who texts you memes or random thoughts from out of nowhere.

and so, while shadow views their relationship with cautious neutrality if with a bit of stubbornly-ignored fondness, mephiles is a bit more attached, even if they don't consciously realize it. it's a bit like the very early dynamic between second chance shadow and metal; they're in contact a lot due to circumstance, and that naturally leads to the two warming up to each other over time. (they're not nearly as close, though, and likely never will be.)

should semi-modern be threatened in a way he can't get himself out of alone, mephiles is very likely to pop out of his literal shadow and assist in some way, if not teleport them both out to safety. i'd even go so far as to say they're a bit protective of him. they just don't realize that's the case until something's actively happening to warrant those protective feelings.

i actually intend to cook up a scenario like this to kickstart shadow's acceptance that mephiles is genuinely not malicious anymore, and for mephiles to come to terms with the fact they genuinely care about shadow as more than just "convenient company". and hopefully that will in turn lead to mephiles having a bit more freedom, where they start to branch out with physical copies/extensions of themself to explore different interests and the like.

i mentioned it in an earlier post, but future interests might look something like taking a more genuine approach to tea. even if they themself can't drink it, they can look into making their own unique blend based purely on the science(?) of it. how they approach interacting with people may also develop along with it, making things a lot less spooky and instead just kind of purely eccentric/left field.

they could take up acting, an instrument, generally anything related to the arts. hopefully not anything to do with high-stakes gambling like their namesake was so known for (though iirc theatre was also something associated with him, so i'm trying to strike a balance there, too).

something something, the parallels between shadow and mephiles both starting with a narrow view of the world and slowly exploring and coming to appreciate it on a wider scale

#sea answers #semi-modern au #i had a great time with this thank you anon mwah

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nvrcmplt · 4 months

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Theo regards the younger with a hint of a smile, hands rubbing at the nape of his neck. How does one get back in touch with the real world and have a conversation ? He isn't quite sure but Lance looks capable and that's all he needs. ❝ ━ Hey, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to make some money ? Nothing too harsh. I need a little help every now and then, in my home since I can't always remember to do things and you look pretty capable of carrying things. We can negotiate pay, and I can give you home cooked meals ? ❞ A second later, he shakes his hands out with a sheepish laugh, ❝ ━ I hope that's not too presumptuous, it's basically just some house chores, nothing funny, I promise. I really need the help...❞

Lance was sceptical, if his face, scrunched with squinting glower was to say anything. He wasn't sure if this guy knew how to talk to people with invitations to jobs, but that was it chief. The way he swung about sounded more like a sex-scam more than anything, and it was lucky for Theo to clear his own actions up because the heat on Lance's tongue was ready to consume the man in his sudden ire and embarrassment of a proposal out of the fucking blue… "Christ man…" He snorted, almost looking like he was about to spit ash from the fire in his lungs before he laughed it off with them. "That was a terrible pickup line if I ever heard one, glad it ain't that ya after. I was about ta break ya kneecaps." He shook his head, looking down at the paper in his hands. A flyer for work, printed off at the agency and handed over to Lance a few hours ago.

He wasn't sure what he was coming down with now but the sight of this guy spoke a bit to him. Lance wasn't any much better, let's be real, these were the last of his clean clothes, they had holes in the thigh and pockets. His jacket was Darc's a borrow - the only thing that hadn't looked like it's in need of a wash. His shirt was threadbare but clean! Still, it wasn't a lie to say Lance was a man that needed cash quick to get himself somewhere else in life. "The agency said ya had somethin' in terms of like… needs?" He wasn't sure what that meant, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be wiping asses, but to be told it was just chores moments ago, he hoped it was like allergy based or whatever.

"I mean, chores are mad easy for me. I ain't shy to clean up, and I'm way stronger than ya think I am." He wasn't going to say anything about his height, he knew he was short as shit, fed his muscles with the wrath of being closer to hell. "I mean, I won't say no but like - can I bring my room-mate? Safety and all that, cause ya look like a good guy but a house visit for shit like this? That's how idiots get killed and I ain't about that life." Just saying it nice and clear… "And the name's Lance - I'm… willin' to work for ya? If ya want me to still."

#intcritus #« ( Lance ) » Answers.

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frogsandfries · 7 months

Text

This has been weighing on me for

At least several days.

I had a dairy-heavy day recent-ish-ly, and then I noticed that I itched like I hadn't itched for months. My legs, especially the backs, where they'd been more enclosed, from the way I'd been sitting, itched like crazy and were covered in the worst hive/rash I've ever seen on my own skin. Like, normally, well, the new normal, is that my skin is dotted with little red hives. This time, the colors of my skin were reversed, and there were little spots and speckles of my base skin tone, but it was mostly flaming hive-red. Perhaps worse than my arms have ever looked since I got over covid and entered the post-covid phase.

I want to scream. I want to rage, but nothing I do will change this.

I still remember the zenith of my infection, feeling like my bronchioles had been iron-sealed and if I didn't fight for breath, to break up the shit in my chest, that was it.

We did everything we were told. We social distanced, we wore masks--properly. We kept our outings minimal.

And we both still. Fucking. Got. Covid.

And it has been wreaking fucking havoc on my body since and it's not fucking fair. I feel like I'm alone. No one else I know was impacted like this..... I'm mad as hell, but who even cares.... I could be dead. I could be Really Disabled (TM) by this......

Possibly the worst part is, all the resources say "months"....... I was struck with Covid in August of 2021......does that fucking sound like "months". This isn't fucking going away.

And I had no say over it. So much for the land of the fucking free. What fucking bullshit.

Well, I better talk to my doctor about getting an epi pen. After the other day with that allergic reaction to fucking seasoned chicken, and then this stupid fucking dairy rash. I'm not going to give up eating ice cream because it makes me itch like I've never experienced before. I already had to give up cow's milk on my cereal and fucking yogurt and cheese for the most part. What else am I going to have to fucking give up eating? Chicken?? Beef?? RiCe?!?!?

I will NOT.

Anyway, I'm just so fucking frustrated and upset and mad right now. It's been eating at me a bit. I can't talk to my dad because that person was rightfully relieved from my life...... I don't have any parents, I don't have any parental role models in my life...... I just feel like no one who's left would..........get it.....like I said, I don't know anyone else who's been impacted like this. It's not fucking fair.... Wasn't a kiwi allergy bad enough? Covid had to try to take away food that I shouldn't be eating just because I don't digest it very well, but literally cannot live without it as a part of my life? Why couldn't covid have taken foods I don't really eat anyway, like......I dunno, fucking marshmallows or hotdogs....

#covid #long covid #vent #rant

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 2 years

Text

What We Do - Part 6

Summary: Marc, Steven, and Jake are learning to live together. Old habits are hard to break and old lies are even harder to remove. Jake struggles to find his place.

Continuation of “What we see”. This is going to be a series.

Pairing: They're all friends here. And Layla saves the day.

Word count: 2521

Part one Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Part Four Here.

Part Five Here.

Part Six: A fun chapter of Jake introducing the family to his friends. One of Marc's secrets is found out in the process. Which leads to Jake's biggest secret being revealed.

--------

Jake stood outside of Gena’s diner. It had been a few days since his injury and they were healing nicely. Marc and Steven had left him alone for the most part, and Jake wasn’t sure if it was because Marc was still mad at him.

It was early morning now and he called into the dark. It was time to wake up. He felt like he owed them something. An apology perhaps. Or maybe he was just telling himself that this was what it was.

He frowned and turned to face a darkened window. He waited until his reflection blinked at him with confused eyes. “Morning.” Steven offered a small wave. “We aren’t stabbed again are we? Don’t feel stabbed. That’s a good sign. Right?”

Marc looked around from his vantage point then seemed to relax a little. “What are we doing here?”

“I want to let you into my world but…” He sighed. “I haven’t been a part of yours. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe it’s yours. I’m going to take the first step. Layla thinks we need to figure out how to share this life before we can have our own.”

Jake turned back to the diner and walked inside. “Morning Gena.” He tipped his hat back.

Gena grinned. “Mister Sunshine! Good to see you fully upright and coherent! Got a fresh pot here with your name on it.”

Jake moved to take his usual seat and glanced around. He was the first in as usual. “Fill ‘er up.” He tapped the empty mug in front of him.

She poured a cup and set his usual hot sauce bottle in front of him. “What’ll it be today? Eggs? Steak?”

Jake hesitated. “Do you have anything uh… Vegan?”

Gena blinked in surprise. “Vegan? Hmmm. Bringing me a challenge at long last.” She brought a small menu over and set it in front of him. “Haven’t dusted this off in a while, but I keep one of these around for people with dietary needs. Allergies and what not.”

Jake stared at the menu. It had ingredients listed for several items and special plate combos. “Excuse me a moment.” He tilted his hat down and muttered to himself. “Steven? Do you see anything you like?”

Steven came to the front and looked at the menu a moment then looked up at Gena with a large smile. “Wow I’ve never been in here before. If I’d known you had a special menu I’d have come in ages ago. Like something from an American picture, huh?”

Gena looked surprised for a moment then grinned and leaned against the counter. “Well you know, I am from America. Only fair that I get to take a little of home with me, huh? So are you the vegan? Sorry to say I’ve been helping to put steak and eggs in your body for a while now.”

Steven focused in on Gena and looked a bit startled. “I’m afraid I’m the only vegan here. I do have one request though… No bacon right? No pork?”

Gena thought for a moment. “No… Pretty sure he’s avoided that. Are you kosher?”

Steven sipped the coffee and reached for the creamer. “Yeah, a bit. A bit.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. We aren’t exactly kosher here. One cooktop, you see… But he’s usually the first one here. Which means that no other meat has touched the surface since it was last cleaned.” She shrugged. “Or I can just tell him to stick to the menu.”

Steven mulled it over. “It’s alright. He can have his meat. Not like Marc abides by it either.”

Gena pushed the packets of sugar towards Steven on a hunch. “Alright, Sunshine. So we have Jake and Marc. What does that make you?”

“Oh, my manners!” He waved lightly. “Steven Grant. I uh, well I’m out of the job right now. Misunderstanding at the museum. Marc still owes me for that one. I’m hoping to maybe get a new job soon. Not at the museum, of course. I don’t think they’d take me back after the bathroom incident.”

Gena nodded and watched him pour several packets of sugar into his coffee. “You know, Jake mentioned a little while back that he had brothers. Is Marc the difficult one?”

Steven pointed to the menu. “Peanut butter pancakes with a side of fruit please.” He sipped his coffee for a moment as if considering something. “He really said that? The brother thing, I mean. Not the Marc thing. Marc is very difficult on the best of days.”

“Steven.” Marc fronted and made a face at the coffee. “We talked about the sugar.”

Gena set a cup of fruit down before them and took a moment to look Marc over. “You must be the difficult one.” She nodded to herself and went to find her pancake mix. “You look like the difficult one. Reminds me of my youngest.”

“Funny.” Marc frowned and stared down at the fruit. He started to pick out the grapes, leaving the melon behind. “How long have you known Jake?”

“Couple of years now I think. He started coming around a little before that. Never said much more than his order. Kept to himself a lot back then. He came in early one morning and walked in on a couple of punks trying to rob me.” Gena frowned as she mixed the pancake batter. “He made very quick work of them. Might have saved my life. They didn’t seem the type to leave witnesses if you know what I mean.”

Marc took his cap off and set it on the counter next to the coffee. “Yeah? Did he… You know, leave a mess?”

“Heaven’s no.” Gena poured a few globs onto the cooktop. “Beat them senseless and kept them down until the police came. He’s been helping me since. Single mom with two boys, here. Sometimes I would bring them in with me and he’d talk to them. Told them stories and helped them with their homework. The oldest is going off to college now. I like to think Jake kept him on the right path. Fantastic tipper, by the way.”

Steven picked out a slice of melon and ate it happily. “See? He’s a good guy. Just a little shy is all.”

“I’d say he’s a fantastic guy.” Gena flipped the pancakes.

“I can forgive him for getting us stabbed. I’d say on a scale of stabbed to shot and dead, Marc is still leading for the worst day.” Steven sipped the coffee and gave Gena a cheeky grin.

“So how does the lovely Layla play into this?” She set the stack of pancakes in front of Steven with a side of peanut butter and a cup of syrup. “Not that it’s any of my business. She seemed like a fantastic woman. You should have seen her come blazing up to my place that night.”

“She’s my wife.” Marc huffed and stared down at the pancakes.

“She likes me more.” Steven smirked and started to fix the pancakes how he liked them.

“Jake likes her too.” Gena grinned, leaning on the counter as she watched Steven devour the pancakes. “Blushes every time I ask him about her.

They paused chewing and took a moment as Jake fronted. He made a face and swallowed the peanut butter and syrup soaked piece. “I’m not trying to steal her. She’s nice.”

Gena poured a new cup of coffee and set it down next to the sugar laden one. “Call it whatever you want to call it. I think she’d do you good, Mister Sunshine.”

Jake frowned to hide his blush and put his cap back on, pulling it down low as he drank from the fresh cup.

Gena moved to clean up the cooktop. “Thanks for bringing your brothers along this time. It’s good to see you’ve got more going on than your car. You should all come over for dinner some time. Maybe I can cook you all a proper meal and not this cholesterol ridden goop, huh?”

Jake glanced up then stared down into his cup for a moment. “I don’t think-”

“I’d love that!” Steven smiled up at Gena. “I’m sure we’d all love that! Uh. Maybe not just yet though. Someone still has social anxiety issues. It’s Jake. Jake doesn’t much like uh, being seen by other people. You know. Cause of the trauma.”

“Steven.” Marc sighed and put his face in his hands for a moment. “It’s taken us a while to sort things out between Steven and I. Jake is… We’re not yet on the same page.”

Gena nodded. “I’m going to be frank, I don’t understand any of this whatsoever, but I’m going to take you at your word. Just promise me that when you all do get on the same page that you let me cook something nice for you.”

Jake rolled his eyes and looked away, but his frown turned up at the corners. “Promise.”

The door behind them opened and Gena looked up. “Well if it isn’t my favorite golden boy. Come for your morning tea?” She fetched a cup and left the counter to bring it over to the newcomer.

Jake pulled out his wallet and tossed down several bills. He paused then added a few more for her trouble. He turned to leave then stopped.

Steven jolted forward. “Crawley?”

Crawley looked up from his booth in surprise. He grinned and held up his tea cup in greeting. “Morning. Uh… Would I be addressing Steven, Marc, or Jake on this occasion?”

–

Steven sat fuming at his desk. He was so mad that he couldn’t even focus on the words in the book he was pretending to read.

Jake did his best to hide the fact that he was more than a little amused. Marc sat in the furthest and dirtiest mirror in the flat. Any effort to come closer to the surface was met by Steven’s cold shoulder.

Marc tried again and this time Steven shut his book and marched over to the mirror. “I can’t believe you! All this time! I’m out there spouting my troubles to my only friend and you…You! You tell him to keep his yap shut! Using him as an informant! Spying on my life! He knew this whole time and you swore him to keep it secret! I’m out there having a mental breakdown and he can’t tell me a word of what he knows because you wouldn’t let him!”

Marc looked down, unable to meet Steven’s angry gaze. “Look… I met him once and we got to talking. He’s a good guy. I explained the situation and he agreed to-”

“To be your informant! You underhanded-” Steven turned his back and found Jake in the fish tank. “And you! How did he know you! Was he a double informant? Working for you too?”

Jake held up his hands. “Absolutely not. He kept a similar schedule to me. He was always at the diner in the morning drinking his tea. He probably knew my name because he asked Gena.”

“Right.” Steven gave him an apologetic look. “Saw your handsome mug and thought it was one of us probably. Put two and two together.”

Marc shot Jake an exasperated look. Jake shrugged and pretended to look at the fish.

Steven went back to his desk and sat down. “I can’t even talk to you right now.” He flipped open a book and stared down at it again.

Marc sighed and slowly rotated the book so that it was at least rightside up. “Steven, I’m sorry. I didn’t… I thought I was taking care of you. I’m an idiot, okay? Please don’t be mad.”

Steven huffed and grabbed a piece of paper. “I’m keeping tally.”

He wrote all their names at the top and made columns. Under Jake he wrote ‘Stabbed’. Under Marc he wrote ‘Spied on Steven.’ ‘We got shot’.

“I’d like to protest the shooting incident. That wasn’t exactly my fault. Harrow shot us and if anything, it brought us closer together thanks to the Duat.” Marc muttered.

Steven sighed and drew a line through it.

Jake immediately wrote under it ‘Left Jake in the sarcophagus’.

Steven gave Jake a sheepish look. “Well we didn’t exactly know it was you…”

Jake shrugged. “Still counts in my books.”

“This is stupid.” Marc went back to the mirror. “Put under Steven the time he kissed my wife even when I told him not to.”

“She wanted to kiss me first! And you got your revenge!” Steven protested.

“You forgot to buy toothpaste last time you were out.” Jake mumbled. “I gave you a list.”

“I…” Steven looked over at Jake. “Okay, I’ll take that one. I got distracted by the pens with the pyramids on them…”

“You also didn’t buy me the right hair gel.” Marc pointed out. “I told you which one and you put it back on the shelf.”

“Okay this was a bad idea!” Steven balled up the paper and threw it away. “I’m still cross with you.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Marc sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“But I forgive you. It was in the past and it was hard back then.” Steven sighed. “Anyone else have any ground breaking secrets they want to divulge? Now’s the time. Get it all out now and we won’t be angry. This is a free secret confession hour.”

“I asked the girl out.” Jake shrugged. “She was pretty and seemed to like you. I thought you could use a break.”

Steven looked up at Jake in shock. “Alright. That was a terrible move, but I forgive you. Don’t do it again.”

“I once worked a whole day for you at the shop and may have told Donna to stuff it where the sun don’t shine.” Marc crossed his arms.

Jake smirked. “I saw that one. She turned a horrible shade of red.”

Steven put his hand over his mouth to hide the smile. “Not cool.”

“I saved your ass in Dubai.” Jake looked at Marc. “If you don’t start checking your corners when you enter rooms I’m going to lose it.”

Marc frowned. “Dubai was a disaster. I think I was actively trying to get myself shot at that point. I suppose I owe you a thank you…”

“I crashed your car!” Steven slumped down on the desk. “I thought muscle memory was a thing and wanted to go for a little drive around the block. I hit the curb and panicked!”

Jake ran a hand through his hair slowly. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a crash, but I did wonder why my car was parked on the sidewalk…”

They were silent for a moment. Each one trying to decide what was worthy of a confession.

Jake fidgeted in his seat for a moment. “I… I was not released from my contract with Khonshu.”

“Well.” A deep voice filled the room. “Negotiations only included those that were present.” Khonshu appeared, crouched at a bookcase as he casually looked over the spines there. “And I was true to my word. I did release you both.”

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Fic #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #Steven Grant #Gena #Marc needs friends

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