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changetyre · 5 months ago

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Big Sister Ⓢ

SUMMARY: Max and y/n navigate through telling Lea she'll be a big sister and meeting Ivy. Part of Verstappen Family verse

WARNINGS: None? Pregnancy, Birth.

A/N: *Requested

"Lea baby can you come here a second?" You sat down with your husband on the couch in the living room where your daughter happily played on the carpet.

"You start." Max quickly whispered.

You both had been discussing for a while how you were going to tell Lea she was a big sister, it seemed like the news couldn't come at a worse time since Lea was having a faze of being extremely possessive of her parents, and even watching Max play with other drivers kids made her sob in anger.

So the thought of telling Lea she would now have to permanently share her parents for the rest of her life didn't seem like the best news to tell her.

"Mommy come play?" Lea whined instead of listening.

"Lea please come here we can play in a second," Max repeated firmly.

Lea knew this meant it was a last warning for her to listen and reluctantly got up to go to her parents.

"Papa up." Lea tapped Max's lap.

Max picked his daughter up before setting her down on his lap facing the both of them.

"So Lea, Papa, and I have some news to share with you okay?" You watched as your daughter nodded fiddling with her dad's fingers obviously oblivious to what was to come.

"Lea you know how much we love you right?" Max asked his daughter.

"More than life!" Lea cheered happily used to hearing it from you both.

"Exactly and you know nothing will ever change how much we love you right? Because you'll always be my baby Lea." You added.

Lea nodded still keeping her gaze down to her fiddling hands.

"Okay, you can tell us how you feel about it Lea but there's no need for you to throw a tantrum okay?" Max asked his daughter who nodded once again.

"Okay Lea mommy is pregnant okay...which means you're gonna be a big sister soon." You laid it all out.

Both you and Max held your breaths expecting a big reaction from your daughter...she continued fiddling with her dad's fingers and Max was about to ask if she had even heard before Lea shrugged. "Okay." she simply said.

Both you and Max shared a look of uncertainty, she didn't look either angry or happy, she was just...indifferent.

"Lea, do you understand there will be some changes soon?" Max asked his daughter.

"Yeah, uhm but Papa I want to keep my cars...I can share dolls but not cars." Lea casually chatted with her dad.

"uh yeah okay." Max was unsure of how to reply. "That's okay I think baby won't be able to play until she's a little older but thank you for sharing your dolls." Max looked at you as if asking for some guidance to which you shrugged.

You both had prepared for any big reaction but had no idea what to do with this calmness.

"Okay...good job Mommy." Lea placed a kiss on your cheek before hopping down from her father's lap. "Can I go play now?" Lea asked to which you both nodded unsure of what else to say.

____________________

"Max" You shook Max awake after spending the last hour walking around in pain and timing your contractions, figuring out if it was finally time or not but once it got too painful to move you knew it was time to wake up your husband.

"y/n?" Max muttered sleepily.

"Max it's time." You voiced the seriousness of the situation.

"Mhm, it's time." Max readjusted his sleeping position before settling to sleep again. You looked at your husband confused before he jumped out of bed. "OMG IT'S TIME?!" He asked loudly now wide awake as he faced you and placed a hand on your stomach watching you groan in pain at another contraction.

"Shush you're gonna wake Lea, Let's go...I texted the boys, Lando should be here any minute." You told Max as he rushed to get some sweats and a hoodie on. You had made a plan that once it was time you'd let Daniel and Lando know so that they could stay with Lea while you and Max headed to the hospital.

Max ran to grab your hospital bags before rushing to grab the car keys and a other few things before helping you into some more comfortable clothes all while reminding you to do the breathing techniques you'd learnt.

As if on queue Lando rushed in with his emergency keys. "Lea is asleep we're headed out now." Max kept his voice down.

"Okay, good luck, text me." Lando hugged his friend and then placed a quick kiss on your cheek before you both headed out.

Once at the hospital thankfully everything was quick and straightforward, unlike your first pregnancy where the birth took a little longer than you would've liked. It only took a few hours before you and Max were holding your newborn baby girl in your arms.

"She's so perfect." you sniffled as you looked down at your baby girl who took hold of your finger with her tiny hand.

"She really is." Max wiped his own tears, it always amazed Max how he felt like he physically had no more love to give between his wife and daughter but looking at his newborn it was like his love expanded a thousandfold.

Max was distracted by the sound of his phone ringing looking down and seeing a FaceTime call from Lando.

"Hey is everything okay?" Max answered worried about how his now older daughter might be coping now that she should be waking up.

"Yeah, Lea wants to know her mommy is okay, I tried to distract her but she won't eat breakfast unless she knows her mom is fine," Lando explained as Max heard his daughter crying in the background.

Max looked at you asking for your permission, you quickly nodded and Max brought the phone towards you being careful not to show your bare chest. "Hey." Lando gasped in awe seeing the newborn in your arms.

He almost got too distracted before remembering he was meant to pass the phone to Lea. Walking towards her he pointed the screen to a crying Lea who quickly calmed at seeing her mom with her new baby sister.

"Lea baby meet Ivy." You spoke softly to your daughter.

Lea was entranced by the baby in your arms. "Hi Ivy...I'm Lea your big sister." Lea spoke softly matching your tone.

Ivy cooed making your heart swell at your two daughters communicating. "I think she wants to meet you, baby." You smiled. "Are you okay my darling? We'll be home soon okay." You reassured Lea.

"I'm okay mommy, Danny said he'd bring me doughnuts." Lea smiled brightly, Max couldn't help but laugh at his best friend's behavior knowing it was always a danger to leave Lea alone with her godfather.

"Of course, he will..." you laughed too. "Lando?"

"Yep." Lando popped back on the screen immediately smiling down at a now happy and calm Lea.

"Max wants to ask you something." You winked before gesturing for Max to turn the phone back around.

"Hey, man...uh." Max scratched the back of his neck nervously never really being good with sentiments. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to be Ivy's godfather?" Max asked his friend a decision that seemed obvious to you when you first realized the connection Lando had with Lea and how easily you would trust him with her life just like Daniel.

"Uh-" It was hard to gouge Lando's reaction without seeing his face. "Yeah, man...I'd love to." your heart swelled again at hearing Lando unable to hide his shaky voice as he began crying.

"Unco Wando!" You heard Lea's concerned voice calling for him.

"I'm okay baby, it's happy tears," Lando reassured her.

"Papa bring momma and baby sis home soon!" Lea called for her dad.

"I will Lea...I promise you I will." Max felt like his heart could burst surrounded by the people he loved the most.

______

"And this is Chals caw, and this is Danny's caw, OH OH this is Papa's caw!" You watched with pride as Lea showed her baby sister her toys despite the fact Ivy's eyes were shut and she was fast asleep in her baby rocking chair.

"I love you." Your husband whispered in your ear as he walked behind you wrapping his arms around you being careful not to squeeze.

"I love you more...and I love them like I never knew I could love before." You leaned your head back on his shoulder as you both just took in how gentle Lea was being with her sister.

"She's going to be such a good big sister." Max smiled.

"She already is." you acknowledged.

"What are we gonna do about him?" Max asked as you both turned to a snoring Lando on the couch.

"Give him a break my love he's barely slept a blink in 2 days worrying about us and looking after Lea." You felt bad for the young man.

"hmm...he really does love us doesn't he?" Despite struggling with verbally expressing love Max knew Lando was indispensable in his life.

"He's family." You watched as your husband laid a blanket over him.

"Yep...he's family." he laughed before joining his two daughters in whatever game Lea had made up for them.

#f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1fic #formula 1 #verstappen family #lea verstappen #ivy verstappen #max verstappen x reader #lando norris #daniel ricciardo

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saveyourblood · 3 months ago

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Pretty Boy - Ch 1 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you're an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them. Originally posted to AO3

Chapter Summary: Your new(ish) co-worker has a special talent: getting on your nerves.

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Swearing (if that even counts).

You’re ending the first half of your 24-hour shift the same way you always do—dinner with the team. Well, at least that’s how you try to end the first half of your shift. Of course, that’s also assuming that both the fire and medical teams are actually at the station and not on a call.

All things considered, this probably only happens once a week, if that.

When it works out, though, it’s a good time. You already spend a lot of time in the rig with Hen and Chim, being an advanced paramedic and all. When it comes to the firefighters, though, you aren’t as well-versed, so it’s nice to have a weekly ‘getting to know you’ session. It seems like these days, it’s a 50/50 shot if they’ll make it to next week's dinner.

The firefighting crew at the 118 is a revolving door of macho men. When you first started, it was Chim, Tommy, and Sal. Chim became a paramedic, so he didn’t exactly ‘leave.’ Sal got relieved of duty, so he didn’t really have a choice. Tommy left, but for something better. Maybe it isn’t so much the job that makes people leave; maybe being a firefighter at the 118 is a stepping stone for bigger and better things.

There is one firefighter that, if he left, you wouldn’t be heartbroken. In fact, it would probably make your shifts a whole lot better.

Evan Buckley, aka ‘Buck.’ God, even thinking his name makes you want to gag a little.

He’s a decent kid, but he’s just that: a kid. He’s a Probie; he’s only been on the job for about 4 months, and no one would assume otherwise. His heart is in the right place, but his brain hasn’t caught up yet. You’re starting to fear it never will.

“I know exactly what that polite, distant smile means: she’s bored,” Chim says as he leans over the counter, pulling you right out of your thoughts and back into reality. “This woman is so far out of my league, but she’s once-in-a-lifetime… I can’t let her go.”

“Lots of fish in the sea,” Bobby, your captain, chimes in. He leans over to pull something out of the oven.

“Not with the bait he’s using,” Hen remarks as she walks by. Her arms are full of dishes to set the table with.

“Amen, sister,” you agree, hot on her heels. She gives you a small smile and hands you the plates, which you accept with a smile of your own.

“Cruel, but true,” Chim sighs. “I met her on this new dating site, just for cops and firefighters, RomancingTheUniform.com. She’s an adrenaline junkie, so foreplay is me telling her stories about running into burning buildings and jumping into icy lakes and…”

“I’m sorry, wait,” Hen interrupts, “remind me: when was the last time you ran into or jumped over anything?”

“...I embellish a little.”

“Oh, noted.”

“So is she a cop or a firefighter?” You ask.

Chim gives you a look. “Why would she be?”

“Well, you said the website is for cops and firefighters,” you repeat. “Doesn’t that make her a cop or a firefighter?”

“Okay, it’s not just cops and firefighters,” Chim cedes, “it’s also for people that want to date cops and firefighters.”

“Ohhh,” you smile, “so cops, firefighters, and badge bunnies. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m telling you, the uniform is a major aphrodisiac,” Chim continues as he brings a salad to the table.

“Yeah, hence the term ‘badge bunny,’” you remark.

The conversation is interrupted by one of the engines backing into the station. You probably should have noticed it was gone, but frankly, as long as your rig is in the bay safe and sound, you don’t care what the meatheads are up to.

Speaking of meatheads…

“Oh good, PB is back,” you remark sarcastically.

‘PB’, aka ‘pretty boy,’ aka Buck. You started calling him Pretty Boy his first day, and over the months, you shortened it. He jogs his way up the stairs and dips a finger in the communal spaghetti bowl. You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee.

“Wash your hands!” Hen scolds as she pulls the bowl out of his reach.

“What if there’d been a call?” Bobby asks as he brings the last dishes to the table.

“I was in the neighborhood!” Buck defends himself. He takes one of the plates from Bobby’s grasp, but instead of passing it around like a normal person, he starts eating the food off the plate with his dirty hands. Sometimes, you wondered if he was raised by a pack of stray dogs.

Bobby starts lecturing Buck, and you smirk with a little satisfaction. Bobby’s going to write him up, and truthfully? It’s a long time coming.

“First infraction, two more, and you’re out,” Bobby says as he steals back the plate. “Wash your hands.”

“You know, you're not helping him by going easy on him,” Chim says once Buck is out of earshot.

“He just needs a little direction,” Bobby replies.

“I’ll remind you of that when he gets us killed,” you mumble.

The alarm bells start to sound through the station. Everyone groans, including yourself. So much for dinner.

Chim decided to catch a ride with the boys in the truck, so that leaves you and Hen in the rig.

“I’m sorry, dispatch,” you say into the radio, “118 RA responding: did you say the baby is in the wall?”

“10-4, 118,” the dispatcher responds. “Caller reports hearing a baby crying in his walls.”

“Copy that, 118 RA clear,” you say before hanging the radio back up. “Well, this will be fun.”

“You think you can play nice with Buck?” Hen asks, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, I’m always nice,” you reply.

“Not to him!” She laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t see you roll your eyes the second he got back to the station.”

“I can play nice and still think he’s a raging idiot,” you defend. “Besides, since when are you his biggest fan?”

“Trust me, I’m not,” Hen chuckles. “And I love you, but you don’t know how to play nice.”

“Why be the bigger person when you can be the bigger problem?”

That remark gets a full belly laugh out of Hen. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Hen parks the rig behind the engine in front. The boys come pouring out immediately, grabbing various tools and equipment. You make your way to the back of the ambulance, tossing Hen her med bag before picking up your own.

You follow the rest of the crew upstairs, and before you know it, the five of you are standing in some random guy’s apartment, listening for something that probably isn’t real.

“Look, I'm telling you, I heard a baby crying,” the man says. “Someone flushed a baby down the toilet.”

Hen picks up a bong off the counter and gives the man a look.

“I’m not high.”

You both raise your eyebrows.

“Okay, I’m pretty high, but it’s Sativa,” he says. “It makes you happy. It doesn’t make you hallucinate.”

“It could’ve been a rat,” Chim shrugs. “Sometimes rats get stuck in the walls.”

You frown. At the end of his sentence, you swore you heard a cooing sound.

“Shh,” you say to everyone, walking over to the bathroom. “Did you guys hear that?”

They're hot on your heels, watching as you take your stethoscope from around your neck and put it into your ears. You place the bell on the wall and wait. When you hear nothing, you begin rapping your knuckles on the tile until you do. Once again, it’s a faint cooing sound, not unlike a baby.

You then knock your knuckles on the wall until you hear a hollow sound. You take a marker from your pants pocket and mark an ‘x’ over it, knowing the space behind it is hollow. You take the stethoscope out from your ears.

“We need to open up this wall,” you say, pointing to the ‘x.’

“No, we’re being punked,” Chim disagrees. “It’s a tape recorder or something.”

“Maybe not,” Hen says, stepping forward. “Maybe a mother gives birth on the toilet and flushes it.”

“Okay, first of all, that's awful,” Chim says. “Second, do you know how pipes work?”

“If the baby is premature, its bones can bend and compress like sponges,” Bobby mentions. “We need to get in there.”

“Stand back, I got this!” Buck says, swinging his fire axe over his shoulder.

He runs up towards the wall with full intentions of swinging. Hen and Chim move out of the way and shout while Bobby tries to grab him. Ultimately, you’re the one to stop him, and you do it by placing both hands on the axe.

“Hey! Did you even stop to consider that you might hit a baby?!” You shout, adrenaline pumping through your bloodstream.

Buck just stares at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” you spat, pushing the axe out of the way.

“Buck, go get the saw,” Bobby directs.

“Try to find some common sense while you’re down there,” you call after Buck as he walks out.

“Nice catch,” Bobby says, looking at you.

“How nice of me to save the baby from one of the LAFD’s finest first responders,” you reply bitterly.

You can’t help but look at Hen, who quickly looks away. Her avoidance gives you a small sense of victory because this? This shit right here? This is why you can’t play nice with Buck. His head is screwed on backward, and it can get people killed. Playing nice isn’t going to fix that.

Thankfully, Bobby takes the saw from Buck once he brings it up. He makes a few small cuts in the wall before he and the other boys are pulling at the drywall. They quickly expose a massive pipe running behind the toilet.

“That thing is huge,” you remark to Hen.

“It probably connects a bunch of the toilets in the units above this one,” Hen returned.

“So… even with the water turned off…” you start, a sense of dread filling your stomach.

“If someone above us flushes the toilet, it could drown the baby,” Hen finishes. Almost before she finishes the sentence, she’s running into the hall, yelling for people not to flush their toilets. The boys make a few cuts into the pipe, and in no time, they’re taking it to the floor.

“Guys, I can see the head,” you say, joining them on the floor.

They make a few more cuts until the pipe is one straight segment.

“Get the head out,” Chim instructs.

“Yeah, you gotta push from below,” Buck chimes in.

You try that, but the baby isn’t moving. You look to the corner, then at Buck.

“Bring me the defibrillator,” you instruct clearly.

Buck scrambles over, picking up the case.

“Just the lube, Buck,” you rephrase, but he’s already coming back with the whole thing.

“Take it, take it,” Buck says, passing it off to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh before grabbing the lube out and tossing the rest of it to the side. You pour some lube on the baby’s head, then down by its feet.

“Work that in,” you tell Chim.

You move your index finger around the circumference of the pipe, brushing the baby’s legs with lubricant as you do so. Then, you gently apply pressure to its feet, and slowly, you can feel it move forward.

“This is gonna be a scoop and run,” you mumble.

“Hen, get the ambulance ready,” Bobby tells her. You’re not sure when she got back, but when you look up again, she’s gone again.

Slowly, the baby’s head emerges from the pipe, and the rest of her body follows.

“She’s not breathing,” you quickly note, “starting CPR.”

You place your index and middle finger in the center of the baby’s chest and press down fast and hard. “Looks like her airway’s obstructed.”

“Buck, get the bulb syringe,” Chim demands. A few seconds pass. “Buck, come on!”

“I’m coming!” Buck barks back, clearly in a panic.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you say quietly as you continue compressions. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Buck returns with the bulb syringe and uses it, but it doesn’t help.

“Dammit,” you curse. “You’ll have to try a blind finger sweep.”

Buck looks at you, then Chimney, then the baby, then back at you. “Me?”

“You gotta learn somehow,” you remark. “It’s easy: just turn her head to the side, curl your pinkie, and see if you can scoop anything out.”

Buck is hesitant initially, but he eventually does as you tell him. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to clear the obstruction, and the baby begins crying. Everyone laughs with relief.

“Let’s get her wrapped up,” you say, reaching for a towel.

The four of you rush down the hall, you with the baby in your arms. The pit in your stomach returns.

“No one held the elevator?!” you yell.

“Dammit,” Chim curses.

“Give her to me,” Buck says, nodding to the stairs.

You stare at him.

“Come on, I’m twice as fast,” Buck pleads.

“Screw this up, and I’ll kill you,” you threaten before carefully handing her over.

Buck takes off down the stairs, but you follow after. There’s only so much that can happen in a few flights of stairs, but you aren’t willing to risk it.

“I got you,” Buck says to the baby, “you’ll be okay.”

A faint smile crosses your face. Maybe Buck isn’t so terrible after all.

“Come on, move it!” Buck shouts as you both make it out of the lobby and out to the rig.

You climb into the ambulance with him, but before either of you can even sit down, you hear someone yelling to wait. It’s not just anyone: it’s LAPD Sergeant Grant, or as you’ve heard Hen calls her, Athena.

“Wait, is that the mother?” Buck says, looking at the young woman with blood-stained pants in someone’s arms. “Yo, screw her! Look what she did!”

Never mind. Buck is still terrible.

“Sit down and shut up!” You yell at Buck. “This is not your call! She is a child, and she’s bleeding out!”

“Look what she did!” Buck repeated.

“Come on, let’s get her up here,” you say to Athena and the man carrying the young girl, disregarding Buck’s protests.

Bobby and Chim made it down, so they help haul the young girl up into the rig. Chim stays at the head while Bobby sits next to Buck, the spot you were about to sit in mere moments ago.

“If this baby dies, it’s on you,” Buck says, staring at Athena.

“Stop talking, Evan,” you snap as someone closes the ambulance doors.

Using his actual name seems to shut him up.

“What’s your name, honey?” You ask the baby’s mother as you cut away her shirt to place EKG leads.

“Marika,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, Marika, but you just have to keep breathing for me, okay?” you say. “My friend Howie is going to start an IV so we can give you fluids and medication. You’re bleeding a lot, so I have to do what’s called a fundal exam, okay? I have to press on your stomach to make sure your uterus is contracting back down normally.”

She stares at you, eyes filled with tears, before eventually nodding.

Using one hand to stabilize over the pubis, you begin pressing down the other into Marika’s stomach, a few fingerbreadths below her belly button. She lets out a few whimpers. You don’t feel the fundus, or the top of the uterus, like you should.

“Marika, you’re bleeding a lot because your uterus isn’t contracting. I have to make it contract by doing a fundal massage. It won’t feel that good, but it could save your life.”

Once again, Marika looks at you before nodding. This time, she closes her eyes.

Using firm and consistent pressure, you push one hand down where the fundus should be and make small circles. Marika lets out a few more cries of pain. You notice that, after a few minutes, the bleeding starts to slow, and her uterus firms up beneath your hands.

“Hospital ETA 5 minutes, hang in,” Hen chimes in from the ambulance's cab.

“Something’s wrong,” Buck says, staring at the baby in his arms.

You quickly move over to him. “Put her in your lap so I can see.”

Buck listens, moving away the towel so you can look at the baby. She’s cyanosed around the lips. You flip open a compartment and pull out the neonatal ambu bag. You hand it to Bobby, and you don’t even have to tell him to start bagging.

“I’m so sorry,” Marika says. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Bobby squeezes the bag every other second, delivering a breath to the baby. Her color is starting to look better, but she isn’t very responsive.

“Here, let me try something,” you say.

You gently pick up the baby and set it on Marika’s bare chest. After a few moments, the baby begins to move and cry out.

“Oh my god, why did that work?” Marika asks, wrapping her hands around her baby.

“Skin-to-skin can help babies regulate bodily functions, like temperature and breathing,” you reply as you place a towel over them.

You look over to the men sitting next to you. Bobby gives you a nod, and Buck avoids eye contact, but you can tell that he’s pissed. Fuck him, he doesn’t know his head from his ass anyways.

Once the rig pulls into the ambulance bay, you and Chim help the ER staff get the gurney out of the ambulance. Bobby and Buck follow suit, only Buck tries to follow them into the hospital. Bobby stops him before he does.

Bobby gives Buck some lecture about how we did our jobs, and now it’s their turn; it’s the speech every overly excited first responder gets at least once at the start of their career.

A cop car pulls up, and Athena comes out. She clearly found the person she was looking for, because she starts yelling at Buck.

“You do not get to choose who lives and who dies,” she lectures.

“Really? Because I was under the impression that kind of was my job,” Buck retorts.

You could seriously slap him.

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby,” Athena continues yelling, pointing a finger at the hospital. “You’re gonna get someone killed.”

“Well, maybe, but not today,” Buck says with a cocky head tilt.

You laugh humorlessly. “You know what, Pretty Boy?” you say, turning to Buck.

Fuck it. Bobby won’t put him in his place, and Athena isn’t allowed to, so you take matters into your own hands, literally.

Before you even fully comprehend what you’re doing, you’re wrapping a hand around Buck’s throat and pushing him against the ambulance. You aren’t choking him, but you don’t move your hand because keeping it there is your only leverage.

“I’m getting real tired of this tough guy bullshit,” you growl, your face only an inch from his. He’s quite a bit taller than you, but when you bounced him off the rig, his footing faltered, so he’s crouched at your eye level. “You wanna get real, Evan? You didn’t do a goddamn thing today except get in the way. While we were busy saving lives, you were shitting your pants and dropping the ball, not exactly what a tough guy is supposed to do.”

“Okay, enough,” Bobby says, trying to break it up. You’re far from finished, though.

You move your hand from his neck, but only so you can point it in his face. “You aren’t a god — you don’t decide who lives! You didn’t even save a life today: we did, because you kept fucking up. And if you keep fucking up like you did today, you definitely will kill someone, and your little jokes and midday booty calls and your shitty little grin won’t change that!”

Bobby ends up physically pulling you away while Athena makes some room between the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to arrest her or something?” Buck says, rubbing his neck. “She assaulted me!”

“She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Athena counters. “I promise you, Buckley, the next time you screw up? It’ll be your last.”

Athena casts Bobby a glance before she walks away.

“You,” Bobby says, looking at Buck, “in the truck. Now.”

You start to walk over to the passenger’s side of the cab when Bobby calls after you.

“I want you in my office the second we get back,” He orders.

You clench your jaw. “Yes Captain.”

Ch 2

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #911 show #911 on abc #911 reader insert #evan buckley/reader #eddie diaz x reader #no use of y/n #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to soulmates #i can write

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padfootagain · 6 months ago

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Love in Verses (I)

Chapter 1 : ‘And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately’

Hi, everyone!!! I’m so glad to finally start posting this series! I know I’ve been talking about it for a while, and I thank all of you for being interested and even excited about it! I hope you won’t be disappointed!

The first chapters will set the plot into motion, of course, we need to get the story going!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3502

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Orange

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange— The size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave— They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list And enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I’m glad I exist.

Wendy Cope, The Orange and Other Poems, 2023

There was sunshine upon the Liffey that morning. A scent of new beginnings in the air, a whisk of excitement in the breeze.

You took a deep breath before entering the college grounds. This was what you had worked so hard for, for so long…

You were finally working in a university, you were a researcher, you would be teaching to younger generations about your passion. And every time you thought about that truth, that new reality, your heart made a happy jump, and a grin formed on your lips.

You were there. At long last. You had a teaching position, you had money for your research, and you had this at Trinity College, no less.

For now, there were no students, the grounds were empty, filled with nothing but old stones, bending trees and sunlight. The year had not begun yet, it was still the early days of August, filled with warm weather, summer storms and a tinge of sun here and there. It seemed that your first day was one of those sunny, warm days that felt too much like vacation time to work. A good omen, if you had ever seen one. A good omen for your life that seemed to fall perfectly into place these days. Professionally, you were achieving your goal today, with this position in the best university in Ireland. Your family was proud, and so were you. And on a personal point of view, you were engaged, to be married to a successful man. You glimpsed at the diamond on your finger. You didn’t have a date for the wedding yet, but you were aiming for spring of the coming year. Frank had proposed during the summer, while you were on a trip for your vacation in Wales. You smiled at the memory. You were lucky this year, your life was perfect, or at least, successful. You were ticking all the right boxes. What else could you ask for?

You walked between the still frames of Edmund Burke and Oliver Goldsmith, stepping finally on the grounds of Trinity College. And you took a deep breath as you stepped into the entrance hall, crossing the building to reach the first courtyard hidden inside. You gathered your thoughts, tried to slow down your beating heart that was pounding with nerves and excitement.

You were to meet one of the fellows of your department, Professor O’Connell. You had never met the woman, but she seemed kind enough on the phone, if strict in her tone. You checked your watch, but you were still seven minutes early. At least, you would not make a bad first impression because you were late…

You hurried under the archway at the centre of the yard, glancing at the forbidden green grass on both sides, and the tall buildings that surrounded it. You tried to calm yourself, thinking that you were an assistant professor already, even if this was your first stable job, that you knew what you were doing, that the papers you had already published were proof of your academic success and your worth as a researcher. You could do this. You could do this…

You walked towards the English department with hesitant steps, trying to follow directions on the various signs scattered across the grounds. A fifty-something woman waved at you from afar though, she seemed to be waiting in front of a building. You smiled, hurried towards her, hoping that you were not mistaken and that she was, indeed, the woman you were looking for…

“Y/N Y/L/N?” she asked, and you nodded your head with a grin.

“Yes! Professor O’Connell, I assume?” you answered, offering her your open hand, which she took with a smile.

“Oh, Lydia is more than enough. How are you?”

“Grand… grand…”

“Welcome to Trinity, I guess. I’ll guide you for a quick visit of our building, and then leave you in the competent hands of our HR department for you to sign off some paperwork. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

She guided you across the large stone building in which you would be working from now on. You easily got lost in the maze of corridors, staircases and halls you were crossing. Still, she showed you the cafeteria in which you were introduced to a few of your new colleagues, some of the classrooms, and finally she guided you to the HR, where a middle-aged woman gave you some paperwork to sign.

Lydia was waiting outside, ready to guide you to your office. A new maze of corridors opened before your feet, but you said nothing, figured that you would eventually get used to it. You took a turn to the right to another corridor, headed straight for the door a few steps ahead. Wooden, with two plaques fixed on its surface.

Dr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne

Dr. Y/N Y/LN

Your heart skipped a few beats at the sight of your name there, engraved in copper.

“You’ll be sharing your office with another of our assistant professors,” Lydia explained. “Andrew arrived last year, he’s working mostly on 20th century literature… but I’ll let him talk your ears off about his research.”

She knocked, didn’t wait for a response before opening the door.

The office was tiny, to say the least, but it was enough for the two desks and chairs set there, a wardrobe and a few shelves. There was a poster of Johnny Cash on one of the empty spots on the white walls, and a large window facing the door, behind one of the desks. The other desk was set on the left-side of the room, a tinier window behind it.

A man was sitting in the chair behind the desk in front of the larger window, and he looked up as the door opened and Lydia walked in, you following close behind.

“Good morning, Andrew,” Lydia greeted her colleague with a smile. “This is Y/N, our new assistant professor, who’s going to share your office this year.”

Andrew’s eyebrows arched slightly, although he still gave you a warm but shy smile, standing in a hurry. You couldn’t help your surprise as he stood up, towering you with an intimidating height. He seemed to have long hair, that he had tied in a bun. You studied his features, something kind and gentle made his hazel eyes shine, a short beard coloured his cheeks. He readjusted his glasses, as he quickly stepped around his desk. He was wearing a black turtleneck and dark jeans, there was a brown jacket thrown on the back of his chair.

You looked up at him as his smile widened just a little, still polite but with an extra-touch of kindness now. His body was intimidating though, and the fact that he was handsome wasn’t helping. He bent to avoid the lamp that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Of course! Erm… hi, nice to meet you,” he greeted you, offering you his open palm, avoiding eye-contact. You weren’t expecting how soft his voice was, how quiet his tone sounded. If his height gave something intimidating to his appearance, his voice countered that feeling, and you immediately felt more at ease.

“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you too, Andrew!”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to settle,” said Lydia, addressing you. “My office is down the corridor, if you need anything. But I’m sure Andrew can help you with the rest. The HR gave you everything you needed to access a computer?”

“Yes, I’ve got everything.”

“Good. Settle this morning, we’ll have a talk about your research this afternoon. The meeting for the upcoming year and classes is set later this week, you’ll get all the information you need for your teaching then.”

“Alright, thank you so much.”

She gave you a bright smile, before walking out of the room.

You were left alone with Andrew, who gave you another shy smile, rubbing at his palms.

“Erm… right… obviously, there is a large selection of desks you can choose from in this room,” he joked, his tone still stern, and you noticed how he was biting the inside of his cheek.

But you laughed good-heartedly at his joke, and he raised his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hmm… I guess I’ll take this beauty over there,” you said, dropping your bag on your desk.

“Good choice,” he nodded, fleeing your gaze again. “Erm… I’ve emptied a couple of shelves over there for you too, and made some room in the wardrobe as well.”

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him and caught his eyes again, noticed their pretty hazel shade.

You turned on your computer, looked through your papers for the password that had been given to you so you could log in.

“So… what’s your research about?” he asked, a little awkward, shifting his weight while burying his hands in his pockets.

You noticed how he was bending his head and shoulders a little, as if to look smaller than he was.

“I work on feminism and the use of the female gaze in literature, as opposed to the male gaze.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you noticed how his gaze lit up with interest.

“Oh… that’s so interesting!”

You were surprised by the earnestness in his tone. The academic world was a particularly misogynistic one, after all. Most men in your field were enemies rather than allies.

“Yeah… I… I think so too,” you smiled, cursing yourself for your naïve answer. “I mean… If I chose to work on that, it means that I’m interested in it, but…”

He chuckled, the sound as quiet as his voice. You were still surprised by it, by the contrast it offered to his intimidating stature.

“Totally, yeah…”

“What about you?”

“20th century literature… mostly modernism and contemporary poetry. So… Lots of Joyce, Woolfe, Heaney and the likes.”

“Nice! That sounds interesting.”

“I mean… I teach a lot about modernism, but my research is more focused on poetry, especially poets who are currently writing.”

“That’s pretty rare, to have scholars studying contemporary art, instead of… dead people.”

You both chuckled at that.

“Yeah… but I… I mean… I value a lot the political weight of art, so… I find it more interesting to study something that talks about our current problems, rather than the problems from… four centuries ago or something...”

“Can’t argue with that,” you nodded.

You exchanged a smile, noticed that Andrew was relaxing as well by now.

“Erm… I’ll let you settle down, but… tell me if you need anything. Oh, and…”

Andrew nodded towards an empty frame tugged away against the wall, in a corner of the room.

“There’s an empty spot on the wall, feel free to hang something you like in it. As long as it’s decent enough.”

“Oh… I will refrain from a poster of my naked celebrity crush then,” you joked, making Andrew laugh again.

“Please, refrain. Although, I will accept your latest pagan ritual to summon Chtulhu or something…”

He tensed again, bit the inside of his cheek, as if he regretted his joke, but you laughed, and he seemed a little surprised by it.

“Dully noted… so, I can bring my pentagrams at work?”

His smile widened.

“Feel free to do so. I can produce the goat for the sacrificial ritual, if you need.”

You chuckled again, and Andrew bent his head, but you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed.

“Right, sorry for the weird humour,” he apologised anyway, and walked back to his desk. “Tell me if you need help with anything. I have a couple of things to take care of, but I can show you around if you need.”

“Okay, thank you! Yeah, that would be grand! And no need to apologise, I have a rather dark humour too.”

You exchanged a smile, before both of you would focus on your computers. You managed to log into almost everything, started to create documents and files for your research, downloaded a few articles that you needed to read this week.

It was almost noon when Andrew looked up from his screen again.

“Erm… is everything alright for you?” asked Andrew, his voice still as quiet.

“Yeah… erm… I just can’t log into something.”

Andrew stood up, bent to avoid the lamp again.

“Can I take a look?” he asked softly, and he walked around your desk when you nodded.

He helped you log into the software you needed, showed you a couple of things that you would need to use often.

“Would you like to get lunch?” he asked you with a timid smile.

You answered with a bright smile.

“Yeah, sure!”

“Did you bring some food?”

“Erm… no…”

“That’s fine, no worries,” he chuckled at your sudden hesitation. “We have a cafeteria in our building, for the staff. But it’s more suited for a coffee break than anything else. You can’t buy food there, except for a few snacks from a vending machine. There’s an electric kettle, a coffee machine… there’s a microwave and fridge too, if you… like… want to bring your own food. But nothing to make proper food. We can go to the cafeteria on the campus, though.”

“Okay, that would be nice! Are you waiting for anyone else for lunch?”

But Andrew shook his head.

“Most people in the department are gone to a conference in Cork for three days,” he explained.

“How come you didn’t go?”

But Andrew merely shrugged.

“I wasn’t invited to be a speaker, and to be honest, it was mostly about subjects I’m not particularly interested in. Besides, someone had to stay behind to keep the new lecturer company,” he smiled with a tinge of mischief, and you liked the sight.

He waited for you to gather your things, and you walked together out of the building. Andrew showed you around the campus a little bit, mainly the library and a couple of buildings where you could be asked to teach. You followed him to the cafeteria as well.

“Do you eat here often?” you asked, as you took a look at the food that was available that day.

“When I can. It’s not bad. But students come here too, so you should come only if you can avoid the worst of the crowd. As this year hasn’t started yet, we’re in the clear for a few more weeks.”

You ordered a sandwich, while Andrew bought a salad, and you walked together to one of the many empty tables.

“Lydia told me it was your first job as a professor?” asked Andrew, before sipping on a glass of water.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve obviously been teaching and working in research for a while, but it’s my first year since I got that title,” you answered with a smile.

“Have you talked about your classes with Lydia yet?”

“No, not too much. I should be able to create a couple of lectures based on my research, but for the more… general stuff, nothing.”

Andrew nodded.

“Yeah, you might inherit some of the classes no one really wants to do, as you’re the newbie.”

“Did it happen that way for you?”

Andrew nodded again, but shrugged right after, swallowing a mouthful of salad.

“I mean, you’ll stay in something you’re used to, don’t worry. But a lot of people are holding the classes they enjoy teaching. You’ll have a limited choice in your field.”

“Any class that you’re hoping to drop?”

“One of them is bound to religion and religious references. I should be able to pass it to someone else this year. We’re exchanging. I’ll get a class on Yeats instead, which is much more in my area of expertise… and interests.”

“Not a religious guy, are you?”

He chuckled.

“Not really, no.”

He didn’t elaborate on the subject, and you didn’t want to push him, happy enough that your colleague and office-roommate was talking to you and acting with benevolence.

“Where did you teach before Trinity?” you asked instead, changing subject.

“Cork for a while, but my partner works in Dublin so I really wanted to move back on the west coast. And then I had the opportunity to come to Trinity last year, when I got the rank of assistant professor, so I didn’t really hesitate. What about you?”

“I taught for a while in Belfast, and they offered me a job when I became assistant professor. But I really wanted to teach at Trinity, so I applied and… got the job! My fiancé is working about halfway between Belfast and Dublin anyway, so it didn’t change much on his side.”

Andrew nodded.

“Relationships can be tricky with academic jobs, especially with how few the teaching positions can be.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.”

You had gotten a yoghurt for dessert, and Andrew some dry fruits. He handed you the packet, a questioning rise of his eyebrow as a silent enquiry. You smiled, opened your hand and he poured some fruits in your palm.

“Anyway, I hope you’ll get interesting classes, and especially that you can teach about your research. Aside from being interesting for you, I think it’s important to develop what you’re working on in our field.”

You smiled, and he seemed to notice, giving you an awkward smile of his own in exchange.

“Thanks. I think so too.”

“But I have a more important question to tackle.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“What poster are you going to put in that empty frame?”

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I have no idea,” you admitted.

“Well, think about it. The decoration of our office is at stake, that’s serious business.”

“Of course, of course. Definitely my number one priority.”

“Good, it should be. My Qi is very sensitive to that kind of stuff.”

You both laughed, and you felt yourself relax again.

You had a good feeling about Andrew, about your shared office, about your new job, about this whole life that was ahead of you.

The world was smiling to you, even the weather was on your side. What could possibly go wrong?

You were so excited to go home and tell everything to your fiancé. Frank got home before you did, you lingered a little longer than anticipated because you asked Andrew questions about how the university worked, the power dynamic in the department, the people you should avoid and those who were nice to talk to. And you wanted to tell Frank about Andrew too. You were so relieved that the colleague sharing your office was nice, kind even.

When you stepped inside, Frank was watching TV. He had ordered some takeaway, and was eating in front of a stupid show that was on, more focused on his phone than on the tv anyway. He jumped when you entered, put his phone away in a hurry.

“Hey, babe!” you greeted him with a grin, bending to kiss him as he sat on the couch.

“Hi! I ordered food for tonight,” he said, nodding towards the Indian food that was scattered across the coffee table.

“Nice!”

“You’re home late.”

You grinned, nodding your head.

“It went amazing!” you jumped up and down excitedly. “First, a senior professor, Lydia, came to pick me up and showed me around. She seems very strict, but nice as well. Apparently, as long as you do your job well, she’ll be on your side. I went to the HR to sign some papers, and…”

You noticed that Frank wasn’t paying too much attention anymore, so you rushed your explanation.

“Anyway, I’ve met a few colleagues, and especially Andrew! We’re sharing an office. He’s been of great help throughout the day, and he’s very sweet! Which is surprising given that he is quite literally a giant!”

“You’re sharing your office?”

“Yes!”

“With a guy?”

“Yes. His name is Andrew! He’s been teaching at Trinity for a year.”

You noticed the way Frank refrained from making a comment, knowing you would call him out for being jealous. You refrained a sigh.

“He lives near Dublin with his partner too. He’s specialised in poetry.”

Frank seemed to relax, and you struggled not to be annoyed by his reaction.

“It’s grand that your first day went fine, babe,” Frank gave you an earnest smile.

“I’m just so relieved that the guy sharing an office with me is not some… misogynistic gobshite. I mean, I don’t know Andrew very much, but he seemed to be more on the feminist side of the spectrum, so I’m sure we’ll be able to get along.”

“That’s nice.”

He didn’t ask any further question but he was still looking at you. You sat down next to him, and he handed you some food he had ordered for you. It wasn’t your favourite, but you liked it.

He opened his arm for you to settle against his shoulder, and you happily obliged. You thought about all the details you wanted to say, but knew would bore him. You chose another question instead.

“What are you watching?”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier professor!AU #hozier au #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier imagine #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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lilacxquartz · 1 month ago

Note

Do you ever think Nanami could be a good yandere?

technically speaking, i believe that everyone can be a good yandere given that yandere/being sick in love, can be fleshed out by exaggerating their existing traits. so… the answer is yes. :)

content warning: yandere talks below—

nanami on the surface is a stoic, yet calm and kind man. he’s caring, protective and sensible. if he were to find himself as the yandere in a relationship or in pursuit of one, i believe that these traits when tweaked correctly, could make him into a believable yandere.

as for what type? i’m thinking perhaps a protective yandere, i do write darker imagines, but i don’t headcanon him as being potentially toxic. this is just my opinion, though!

some things that come to mind include:

• nanami would likely exhibit interest by showing concern for you should you be putting yourself through unnecessary stress or danger; normal on the surface, but a yandere is often extreme, so he would take it upon himself to try and eliminate those factors.

• nanami would present himself as someone loyal and consistent in your life. being a hardworking person who takes his interests to heart, he would retain his position in your life no matter what happens, so you come to associate him with always being there for you.

• nanami would remember the little things you do, perhaps keeping trinkets or a log of every time that you did something kind or notable. being a yandere, he would go over this nightly, obsessing over just how perfect you were in his mind.

• nanami would also notice the little things about you, that nobody else does. he knows you the best, after all, no matter what anyone else claims. it would be subtle things, too, like your expressions in reaction to certain things or if you were feeling off, likely knowing the cause as to why.

• nanami would socially engineer you. he worked a normal office salary man job for a while before he returned to jujutsu society, so he became well versed in networking. he’d figure out everything he needs to know about you, adjusting himself to match your wants and needs.

thinking darker though, what could he possibly do to become a more problematic yandere? nanami as a character definitely wouldn’t, but we’re exaggerating him.

• let’s think back to how he would eliminate the stress factors for you—would he kill for you? i’d think so. he’s a sorcerer, so it wouldn’t be something he’s not done before, at least with living things. cursed spirits aren’t too different to stalkers or those with ill intentions.

• would he abduct you to keep you safe? potentially. he would do it subtly though, like insisting that you were in danger and inform you that something happened, so going back home is not advised. he’d accommodate you so well, though. he knows everything about you, after all, so you wouldn’t even want to leave.

• nanami would likely see himself as the only suitable candidate for your affections, so while he allows you to date perhaps, he would slowly eliminate the competition, leaving you thinking that everyone else had ghosted you. unintentional of course, but in a darker imagine, why wouldn’t he jump the opportunity to comfort you?

so yeah, i feel like he has good potential with being a certain type of yandere, since yandere doesn’t always necessarily mean dark romance. if this is a subject you would like to see explored in a one shot or similar, let me know! <3

#asks #jjk #yandere nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #cw yandere #yandere headcanons

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g1rlken · 8 months ago

Text

┏ 𝐅𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬�� 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ┐

part1 part 2. Alex turner x fem!actress reader

series list

summary: Alex knows how to hold a grudge, moving on from a break up? What a foreign concept!

word count: 2.5k+

—

The cold of the grassland with its cutting pink winter wasn’t as cold as Alex. Grudge was an understatement, but to an extent it was valid. That’s what y/n thought and considered. After an ugly parting and hurt that she inflicted upon him she took accountability in accepting his harsh behavior. It wasn’t harsh per se it was just a lot of nothings. Harsh nothings. She tried to avoid it as much as he tried to avoid her but working together just made it worse. An exhibit about to follow as y/n, against her better judgement tried to join a conversation.

She felt invited enough to do so as Richard greeted her with an obnoxiously cheerful “good morning!” amidst his ongoing conversation with Alex. Choosing to ignore Alex’s evident indifference he waved her over “y/n!”

“Morning” she greeted in general to the both of them timidly looking at Alex to see if he would react with as much as a nod of acknowledgement but it was worse well, he didn’t even look in her direction even though she was right there.

“Yeah no you can go about it however you like…” Alex briefed to Richard about their conversation continuing it as if y/n hadn’t been invited to the conversation and she was just standing there dumbfounded.

“I was just telling him about making some changes in the camera operation, you know wide angle or zooming in from the writer’s perspective if he’d like it.” Richard filled in y/n on the context of the conversation since alex was rather rude about it. He definitely took a note of that.

“Right” y/n nodded attentively, playing it cool that it didn’t bother how Alex was acting. It had been just a week since the shoot began, dismissing her hi’s in the hotel lobby, scoffing or rolling her eyes at her in casual conversations, making it hugely evident how much he disliked being in her radius. It was all remotely digestive she was prepared for such spitefulness but instead of removing himself from the situation he was just giving her a hard time. It was getting increasingly embarrassing in front of the whole crew.

“For the second verse, before it begins we were thinking of adding a god’s eye shot-” Richard said showing y/n the script in his hands as he looked at alex, trying to make her feel inclusive to the conversation.

“What’s a god’s eye shot?” Alex asked stopping Richard midway.

“You don’t know what’s a god’s eye shot?” Richard asked having a bit of Hollywood condescension in his tone having worked cameras and directions for most of his career he considered it a common knowledge for most. Clearly not the songwriter.

Jumping in to save Alex having to fall small against Richard patronizing him y/n answered “Its basically like an aerial shot of a camera zooming out. Its also called a bird’s eye shot. It’s a perspective to make the watcher-“ Y/n tried to explain it to him casually as if it wasn’t a big deal that he didn’t know that.

Alex interrupted her almost immediately, “Sounds fine.” He replied to Richard as if he was the one who just explained him about the shot and not y/n. Disregarding her helpful set of tone as well like he truly couldn’t care less.

“Are you sure?” Richard asked to confirm he wasn’t just trying to cut the conversation short to spite y/n.

“Look mate, this is your job. Making the song is my job, this music video is your job.” Alex explained assertively as he crossed his arms. Y/n nodded as if he was talking to her, her nonchalance irritated him very much. “I wouldn’t like it if you told me how to make a song” he said and for the first time through this entire interaction he looked at y/n, “you know like in any relationship, you wouldn’t like if you were told what you felt, if you were told what’s hurting what’s not. You’d want to decide that for yourself no?” he had a piercing gaze, entitled even, towards y/n as he talked to her through Richard. “So I wouldn’t want to tell you how to do your job…do what you feel right.” He said to Richard patting his shoulder as he exited leaving both y/n and Richard speechless.

As Alex left with his last word y/n was left looking down at the grass as if it were the most interesting thing. Somewhat with shame too, through Alex’s scold like bitter conversation. “He’s clearly not over it.” Richard remarked hugging his clipboard.

Scoffing y/n looked up and watched Alex leave, “Yeah…this is such bullshit.” She said averting her gaze back to Richard to not risk being caught looking at Alex for long. “didn’t your PR team think this through, we’re not even together anymore this would look so awful.”

“Any publicity is good publicity for them” Richard explained with a shrug, “and originally Alex did want you for the music video so there’s that…” trailing off.

“That’s six months ago.” Y/n said her voice laced with slight agitation after and through that interaction. Referring to the timeline of before their breakup. ‘Originally’ like how Richard said Alex wanted her for the music video. She had stopped working for her projects for two months since the Emmy fiasco. Alex had assigned her to work with his team for the music video, back then before the album was out. Alex wanted to help her through it, he wanted her to resume acting through a comfortable setting if he would be on set with her it would be the best way for her to ease back into her job. Ironically enough after all this time, his presence was making being on set insufferable for her.

“No” Richard shook his head, confused how she didn’t know so far “Even after that.” He told her unsure if being subjected to tell her this would help her somehow. “Since you two broke this song is like writer’s heaven for him right? So he said and I quote, ‘She is the devil of my writer’s heaven so why not.’ But he was subtle with it.”

“wait what?” y/n asked wide eyed and really surprised he would say that “He called me the devil?!” sometimes she wondered if she was pre-existingly scared of confrontations or was growing to scared of them but she could not find it in herself to go graceful about this newfound information.

“Not figuratively.” Richard defended the bluntness of how he relayed that onto her.

“The devil though? He called me that?” She asked not being over the insult used as an adverb. Emphasizing on ‘that’ as her eyes widened in horror, more and more she contemplated that word.

“Look that’s besides the point…” Richard trailed off in a comforting way to tell her otherwise “he wanted you here even after the break up and is now acting passive aggressive to you?”

“Maybe he hasn’t had closure” y/n said crossing her arms, tightening them around her with her jacket to withstand the cold wind. Given how awful she felt around him in addition to the devil comment she hadn’t had closure herself.

“I don’t think so, he is growing way too friendly with literally every woman you see with him. Just in six months.” Richard, said with a dramatic scoff, undoubtedly on y/n’s side through the vague black and white of their break up.

“is he now?” She asked raising a brow, growing increasingly uncomfortable at the validness of Alex’s grudge. If he had it in himself to move on as such why was he being such a passive aggressive jerk to her. The newfound confusion was quick to crumble itself as she recalled his crying face from the night of their break up. “You know its fine, he’s supposed to move on…I’ve done so too.”

“If you say so.”

The whole day grew worse with zero productiveness, getting all ready for the shot, preparing the shot itself was such a hustle in itself. A heavy downpour caused the production for that day to shut down altogether. The sun was below horizon way earlier than city sunset timings. Tidying herself out of her character clothes and makeup after spending almost the entire day in them, only to do nothing, y/n was in her car in her usual off screen attire again. Overwhelmed with the day’s outcome and all the thoughts which had hours worth of free time to marinate into depressive keep-you-up-at-night ones. Sighing she leant on the steering wheel with her head on her forearm relaxing before the godawful snow covered road back to the hotel. By mistake she must have had reverse gear set, in an already spinning life she didn’t notice her car pull back. Until a small thud into the car behind her in the parking lot she came back to her senses and quickly pulled breaks. No alarm went off so she thought it must be a curb, regardless she never parked that gracefully so she was used to hitting curbs. “Are you out of your mind?!” a voice called out to make her conclude otherwise about the curb. She barely heard it within closed windows but she would recognize that voice anywhere.

With a deep breath she unbuckled herself and got out of her car to see Alex standing between her car and the one behind which she victimized with a supposed hit. “Sorry, hey, my bad” she apologized immediately. Contrary to new York set of driving skills, the city makes you master in road rage. But this was Alex and she was clearly not in his good graces to begin with.

“You park like a maniac that was diabolical-” he began with furrowed brows and a very intimidating agitation laced in his tone. He knew the context of her poor parking skills beforehand so he accusatory, precisely right.

“I wasn’t parking, I was getting out.” She replied, guilt in her tone even though she wanted to be stern.

“After hitting another car?” He asked with a scoff as he crossed his arm. The generally calm, the awfully chill Alex Turner was all of a sudden very concerned about a half empty parking lot.

“No-there was no alarm I thought it was a curb.” She said, pulling her arms closer to herself because it was too cold without her sweater she removed inside the car.

“Now you cant tell the difference between a curb and a car and you’re out there on the road?” he spoke bitterly, puprosley showing her down.

Y/n felt guilty as she rooted-ly did so around him ever since their breakup. She allotted this agency to let him be bitter to her because of that but as of now, he was being unreasonably petty “Hey I have a valid driving llicense, I don’t need you to police me on it.”

“Sure my lady, why don’t you go out on the road and grace us peasants-“

”Don’t be so melodramatic there’s barely a scratch on your car!” She exclaimed with a huff as she looked over at the front truck to cross check.

“A fender bender is a big deal and this is your fault, what if I was in it?” Alex inquired shaking her head as he leant back on the car, wanting to appear rather authoritative.

“Fine” she sighed realising this was going nowhere progressive “I’ll just pay for the damages. How does that sound?”

“Oh?” He snickered in a harsh way looking to the side and then back at him, “oh you’ll pay for the damages, will you?” The irony wasn’t lost on either of them but he was just overdoing it a bit. “That’s shocking, you generally prefer to run when you mess up.”

“Alex just because I tolerate you on set, my workspace, doesn’t mean you can constantly berate me.” She said, genuinely disheartened he would bring up everything to the same thing over and over again.

“Tolerate?” He gasped softly for dramatic effect “You tolerate me, y/n? After everything you’re seriously going to stand there tell me that?”

“Breaking up with you is not a crime Alex.” Y/n said as her face fell that they were here bickering again. There was a much more graceful way to go about this than constantly talk down to her on set, she let it be given she was here for work but he was going out of his way to be unpleasant. In the hotel lobby, by the vending machine, blocking her supposedly favourite drink and he knew it was her favourite: damn a two year blissful relationships. “Spilling coffee on my shoes, getting the intern to send me the wrong schedule and I know you added those coloured pods to my white shirt laundry.” She hasn’t even been here a week but Alex had created absolute havoc misusing their shared hotel space privileges.

“Whatever the fuck you’re on about” he said disregarding and denying what she was accusing him of, he had done it but it wasn’t anywhere major nor significantly hurtful how she hurt him and so far he had been the bigger person. “You think you’re so important in my life that I would do all that? You think I have all that time, y/n?” He quite literally did have all that time. He wasn’t even needed to make the music video he just came because he wished to do so and the studio could most definitely not refuse him if he wanted to be present for the shoot of a song he made.

“You’re a bully.” Y/n said after much thought to come up with a conventional yet witty insult, that was the best she could do.

“I’m a bully?” Alex repeated, just expectedly surprised how surface level childish that comment was. She was growing on his nerves throughout this interaction and he could tell she felt cold, his muscle memory being taking off his jacket for her, that thought brought a bittersweet nostalgia as much as irritation. He hated that he could just tell she was cold, he had grown to hate her even but not unlearn her, “you are so pointless…go on inside princess you’d probably freeze out here” he scoffed and turned around.

As did y/n thinking that leaving faster than him was some kind of a heavy blow because she couldn’t have the last word. The blow did hit her eventually as she was in the silence of her car again, he’d known her like the back of his hand and that’s all they’ll be now. To know somebody as truly as she let him know her, a big piece of him was out of herself as long as he knew her but that’s all they would ever be now. Just pointless details of being so close to someone once ages ago. Maybe that’s how he thought of her now and she didn’t blame him.

She ran, she blew it. But it did change the fact that it was difficult to stomach his harshness. Alex, whose gentle affections was all she knew. Her Alex who changed the door from its hinges to a new one till three in the morning because she mentioned it irked her how the door closed, that Alex was slamming the door of his life on her face. Having to get used to his indifference, it hurt more than leaving perhaps because leaving was always easier.

Tags: @sagegreensimmr @indierockgirrl @turnersverse @ladydraculasthings @libertyybellls @kelizai @bewr0210

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK PLS PLS PLS DRINK WATER ILY

Also if you want to be added to the tag list let me know :)

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x reader fluff #alex turner x you #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x famous reader #alex turner x reader angst #alex turner imagine

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melbatron5000 · 8 months ago

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Minisode connections, again

I'm working on decoding the chiastic structure of Good Omens season 2. It's taking a long time because there's a bunch of crap going on -- not the least of which is I think I found two different structures, so that's fun -- also, I have to work and do human stuff, so I can't just sit around working on Good Omens all day, every day.

But something I noticed while counting beats to find the middle (middleS, plural, but that's another meta):

It's already been pointed out by others that the magic act in the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters minisode echoes the Big Break Up and Kiss scene -- which it certainly does.

But the Restoring Job's Kids to Life in Front of a Bunch of Angels scene also echoes both of those scenes.

First and foremost, they are all around sixty beats long. (About the same rate as a resting human heartbeat, interestingly. What else is 60 beats per minute, I wonder?)

Second, in each scene, something (someone) signals the start of it. In Job, the angels applaud just before Aziraphale enters late. In 1941, Mrs. H tells Aziraphale to get on with it. In the Kiss scene, the Metatron tells Aziraphale to go and tell his friend the good news.

In all three scenes, Aziraphale enters stage right and turns to his left.

In Job, Crowley murmurs to Sitis, "trust me." In 1941, Aziraphale mouths to Crowley, "trust me." I think in the Kiss scene, "trust me" is more implied by both of them. It starts out murmured, then gets mouthed, and by the end, is unspoken entirely.

In all three scenes, Aziraphale explains to Crowley what needs to happen. "It would be really helpful if you were an expert on human births. Gabriel here witnessed the first human birth." "Aim for my mouth, shoot past my ear." "He said I could appoint you as an angel."

In all three scenes, Crowley takes a shot and Aziraphale backs him up. Job: "Reach into his robes and pull out three ribs." *Aziraphale miracles the kids into kids again.* 1941: *Shoots the gun at Aziraphale* *Aziraphale catches the bullet* *Kisses Aziraphale to give him the records from Heaven.* "I forgive you."

All three scenes end with Aziraphale having successfully fooled his audience.

Now, I already figured out that the scenes that are supposed to parallel the Resurrectionists minisode are missing. Even Crowley knows they're missing. Time has jumped forward past some important events. I don't know what was supposed to happen to echo Resurrectionists, but something is, and it's gone. I think it matters, though. Otherwise, why would we have this:

All three minisodes on the matchbox. The box itself is from the Resurrectionists pub, it has a verse from Job on it, and the verse is 41:19 -- or, if you reverse the numbers Verlan style (which is like Pig Latin, but what they do in France -- thank you @noneorother!) 1941. I strongly suspect the verse itself may very well have to do with the missing scenes that should mirror the Resurrectionists minisode.

But I wonder why Job, 1941, and the Kiss all line up and echo each other, while the Resurrectionists is the odd one out. I feel like whatever scenes have been jumped over probably line up with something big and important that happens elsewhere in the story. Threes are very important in storytelling, a rule that should never be bent or broken. I really wonder HOW the missing scenes got jumped over -- did God do it? Did Aziraphale or Crowley do something which caused it? Given how Crowley reacts to it happening, I would say if so it was inadvertent. Is time out of whack for some reason? It keeps jumping forward, why is that? Did someone else force them past the missing scenes? Ugh, I don't know.

Several people have pointed out to me now that the 1941 minisode has a lot of wedding night symbolism in it, and I see that the Job minisode has a lot of first date symbolism in it, too! Ha! Including Crowley and Aziraphale out in the desert by themselves when they encounter Job talking to God -- what the heck were they doing out there? Making out, maybe? Is that why Aziraphale comes rushing in through the door late when the other angels arrive? Busy smooching your new crush, Aziraphale? The Kiss scene seems to be a divorce, but it's actually a long-married couple who can read each other like a book being forced apart.

So if Job is a first date, and 1941 is a wedding, and the Kiss is a (forced) divorce, what is the Resurrectionists? What comes between a first date and a wedding? Traditionally, in love stories, a break-up has to come between those things. But other than Crowley being dragged back to Hell and forcing them separate, and then their argument over the holy water when he comes back, I'm not sure I see Resurrectionists as representing a break up. Does it? Maybe . . . ? And maybe more important, what comes after a wedding but before a divorce? Would we say kids? Mundanity and boredom? Infidelity? Given that it's a forced divorce, I wouldn't say those last two things. But kids then? What else could it be? Hmm.

Does the Resurrectionists minisode and whatever its missing echo is have to do with that progression in a relationship? Or given that Job, 1941, and the Kiss all echo beautifully and Resurrectionists does not, is that something outside their relationship and the progression of it?

Anyhow. More investigative work to be done here.

In between doing alive human stuff, I'm on the case.

#good omens 2 #crowley #good omens meta #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens analysis #aziracrow #good omens fan theory #good omens job #good omens thoughts #good omens 1941 #ineffable divorce #the big damn kiss #good omens minisodes

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 1 year ago

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Heyo! I was wondering if you knew many steter/sterek prison aus? I'm not well versed in ao3 filtering yet, thanks! 😊

Sure.

Those Hidden Places by Mimiminaj

(1/1 I 18,799 I Explicit I Sterek)

He doesn’t belong here.

It’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind as he watches the new inmates spill into the cafeteria. The kid stays close to the wall, eyes scanning all the exits and skimming over the tables. If he’s trying to get a barring for his surroundings he’s doing a shit job of it, something made completely evident as Lewis shoulders him from behind and the kid almost jumps to flatten himself against the wall.

Stiles is the new inmate at Derek's prison. He really didn't expect to fall in love with the mouthy little brat.

Sixteen Years In Hell by gaydestiny

(7/7 I 23,914 I Explicit I Sterek)

So this was finally it. He was being escorted by an armed guard through a pair of double doors and into actual prison. Where he would be sharing living quarters with convicted killers, probably. Stiles may have been a bit of a badass in his own right, but he was still just a 16 year old kid, he used to be an honor student for fuck's sake, how was he supposed to deal with this?

Never Cage A Rabid Wolf by tty9

(26/26 I 49,734 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles is sent to prison, and gets assigned to a cell with-

“Hale?!” Scott gasped as his gaze followed Stiles’s. “You got Derek Hale?! Oh boy, man, good luck with that buddy, that guy is a psycho!” His voice had become worryingly high pitched. Stiles’s heart started thumping in his chest, and he swore it actually skipped a beat when Hale looked up at them, his eyes searing into Stiles’s who quickly dropped his head. His beef (or was it pork?) slop suddenly looked very interesting.

Could Frame Thy Mortal by orphan_account

(15/15 I 42,271 I Explicit I Steter)

"It’s normal. Spending every waking second watching Hale is normal. In many ways, Hale is his whole universe: tracking his movements, waiting for what he does next, wondering what he’s thinking. The only outside stimulation he gets otherwise is the shower visits, and even then it’s only when Chris is the one taking him that he gets any engagement.

Stiles knows Hale like he knows the water pipe. The sixty two bars that line the side of their cage. Like the minute of cold water that hits Stiles’ skin before the heat finally comes in the shower block. "

Held in an Argent facility, never knowing who he can trust, Stiles pays for his survival with the only currency he has.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #criminal!derek #criminal!stiles #anon #steter #peter hale #rape

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livwritesstuff · 1 year ago

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Absolutely obsessed with your steddie dad’s verse!!! Everything about it is just so good, thanks for sharing!

I love Moe, Robbie and Hazel, and I can’t get this idea out of my head that probably doesn’t fit the vision of this verse at ALL but hear me out. What if one day all the upside down stuff became public knowledge? Somehow documents get leaked, someone talks, idk. And it’s suddenly all over the news. Would be so interesting to see how Steve and Eddie would react to this and how they’d talk to their kids (who just found out about their parents saving the world from the news) about it 👀

So here’s the thing:

Realistically, I don’t think the story would ever get fully leaked, for two reasons (probably more, actually, but two primary reasons).

It makes the U.S. government look terrible, and they do a good enough job of that publically to afford any more hits to their rep so they keep that shit on lock

Nobody would believe it. Maybe there are whispers about the truth of what happened to Hawkins, Indiana in the 80s, but the second the words “monsters” and “superpowers” get thrown in there, nobody buys it. That’s why the cover stories work.

What I absolutely think would happen is ✨conspiracy theories✨

Like, come 2014 there’s a rising interest in true crime and conspiracy theories and some enthusiasts stumble upon the story. A few devoted folks pull a Murray and start building a timeline and they quickly realize that there are some pretty serious holes in the narrative. It kind of takes off from there.

Robbie is Eddie’s daughter through and through, so she’s totally into that kind of stuff. Steve and Eddie have always been relatively upfront about what happened to them in Hawkins (relatively, in that they have the “here’s what you’ll find if you google your dads” conversation with an extensive Q+A, but to avoid dumping trauma on their kids they stay light on the details), so she’s more intrigued than surprised when not only is she suggested a YouTube video about her dads’ hometown, but the video also mentions both of them by name.

Here’s the problem – like most conspiracy theories, it's true that some pretty damning evidence has been uncovered that the government probably didn’t want circulating. However the story is still missing key details in a way that makes the resounding conclusion this close to the truth, but not quite there.

Hence, this conversation Robbie has with her dads after she watches the video:

“So is it true that Uncle Will was abducted by aliens?”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“Are people saying it’s aliens? It wasn’t aliens.”

“Was he though?”

“Uh…kind of. I guess.”

“Is it true the government put a fake body in the lake and pretended it was him and then when Will came back they had to pretend it was another kid?”

“Yep.”

“That’s fucked up. Is it true that Russia used a mall in Hawkins to build a secret lab?” Robbie asks.

“Yes.”

“Is it true they were doing research on the aliens and then one of them escaped and that’s why the mall got destroyed.”

“Not even close.”

“How did the mall get destroyed then?”

“Bunch of people got possessed by a shadow monster and he made them eat chemicals until they exploded and reformed as this giant mass thing that cornered us in the mall. We attacked it with fireworks. I wasn’t there for most of that, though. Just the end.”

“Whatever,” Robbie rolls her eyes, fully convinced that her dad is bullshitting her, “Is it true the Hawkins earthquakes were actually the aliens invading.”

“No – yes…kind of? Not earthquakes. Not aliens.”

“I mean…technically they kind of were aliens ,” Eddie jumps in, “Technically anything from a land foreign to yours is an alien.”

“They weren’t aliens,” Steve insists, “They were monsters. They were big and gray and their faces opened up and they had all these rows of teeth like sharks.”

“Sounds like an alien to me,” Robbie replies.

“Monsters.”

“Is it true Dad was attacked by them and he almost died and you saved him, Pop?”

“Yes, indeed,” Eddie says proudly before Steve can respond, “He’s quite the hero, don’t you think?”

“In space?”

“Nope. In an evil alternate dimension, and he dragged me all the way out through the portal and everything.”

Robbie rolls her eyes again, “Nevermind, you guys are useless. You’d think you weren’t even there.”

Steve sighs, “God, I wish that were true.”

In terms of how Steve and Eddie respond to the story gaining some attention from the general public, they do family viewings of the conspiracy videos made about the situation and make fun of the incorrect narratives. Their daughters fully do not grasp that their dads are telling the truth because, again, the truth does not seem real.

#*john mulaney voice* eh none of us really know our fathers #i could say so much more about this but i didn’t want this post to get bogged down sooo #lmk if you want more I guess #fun fact: my *redacted relative* worked on the Isabella Stewart Gardener robbery case #which i didn’t know until i watched the buzzfeed unsolved video about it and saw a picture of them #so in other words…this could totally play out like this #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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fountainpenguin · 2 months ago

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"I was given a name before I was given blood (like you were given your faith before there was made a god...)" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic update today!

Frayed Knots - Chapter 41

"Mounting Pressure"

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

☁️ Cloudlands AU

🦇 Ridwork Guide || Chapter Recaps

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

“Juandissimo is very calm, mature, and reasonable,” I tried to tell him, and Cosmo shrugged. “Oh, I know. Yeah, he’s kind of a pushover; those shiny muscles and tight butt are all for show. I’m not afraid of him. I just hate to be rude, treading all over his girlfriend’s space… and what would Wanda think? She might get the wrong idea.”

In which Anti-Cosmo visits Wanda in the hospital, looks after his godchild, and receives word that Blonda found his absent fairy grandfather.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

- Aftermath of a car-hits-pedestrian situation described in the S9 episode "Cosmonopoly;" blood mentions

Mounting Pressure

I’m afraid I don’t remember much of that wild trip to hospital. Cosmo sped through Fairy World, blaring Darla’s horn, while I huddled in the back seat with Wanda and pushed my healing magic for every damn fleck it was worth. The borrowed wand in my hand kept kicking spells back at me, so you can only imagine what the aftermath smelled like.

By the time I had a moment to myself to breathe, I must have wiped a gallon’s worth of stinky magic from my hands across my shirt. Flecks of blue and red soot hung in all the pockets, mingling Cosmo’s impulsive panic (The former colour) with medical-grade scarlet. I’d tossed my jacket somewhere. I think Jasmine arrived at some point, after spending her whole day hunting and shepherding lost spirits. Gods, I had so much to tell her about the burglary and meeting Cosmo in the first place, but that could wait.

I can’t recall if anyone looked at me funny or implied I may have hurt her. I suppose someone may have brought it up. I just remember standing to the side, bleary and mute, while Jasmine rubbed her head against my side and Cosmo spun a story to the receptionist that I didn’t bother making out. I think that mostly, I just looked at my hands. At my soot-spattered forearms and liquid-dripping hands.

Wanda’s been hit. Is it bad? Why can’t we see her? Did she bar us entry from the room? Are they not allowed to say?

“You should go,” I did tell Cosmo, though, when I regained myself. We’d found chairs. Were there chairs? I touched his arm just past his rolled-up sleeve, which made him jump; I felt the flicker of alarm in my own core. How funny, the way we breathed… and when he looked at me, green eyes dim, I tried again. “Her father’s Dusty Fairywinkle Jr., you know. If he finds out his daughter’s hurt, he’ll want the assailant right away.”

“If he wants revenge, I think I’m safer in the hospital,” was his response. That made me blink, but when I reflected on his words, I had to admit this was probably true. The staff were well-versed in the art of keeping unwanted visitors outside a hospital room. I won’t lie and say we Anti-Fairies never visited these places. Quite the contrary…

“I see a lot of hospitals in my line of work,” I said off-hand, turning my attention to Jasmine’s fur. She sat on the floor, her large head resting in my lap. I don’t think we had proper chairs, actually. I think it was a bench without a back. Cushioned, though. There were leafy cushions with buttons spaced just so apart. I wrapped my fingers over one, tasting every breath to cross my lips. I’d never felt this shaken up since my lifesmoke still lived inside a jar. At least with my mother, I knew what to brace myself for; I’d already seen the worst that she could do. Mother was predictable in a way that holding an accident victim wasn’t.

“Yeah, I bet you Anti-Fairies come here often.”

“Pardon?”

Cosmo shrugged. “You leave behind a lot of broken backs.”

Of course I do. What did he mean to imply? That I wasn’t any good at my job? I may be a demon summoner, I thought, wrinkling my nose, but I can still perform basic field work with top marks. “Yes, well… There’s so much magic around here that not even the finest tooth-and-comb clean-up job can scrub it out. I trust the workers do their best, but hospital’s a hotspot for stinky magic; really, I don’t know how you stand the roar of it. That’s why we Anti-Fairies don’t use them.”

“No hospitals?”

“Never this big. And believe me, I’ll be fighting with all my strength if I set foot on that white floor. Unbroken white paths! In hospital!” Every passing heartbeat slammed metal and shattered glass against my ears. Gods, I couldn’t hear myself think.

Cosmo shifted seats… I think so he kept downwind of me in comparison to the quick movements up and down the hall. Even the squish of fabric beneath his rump set a chill through my fangs. Could he taste my emotions better there? He’d conveniently sat himself where I couldn’t smell his. Not that I was any good at detecting the silent signals the Seelie communicate with, even after all my years in school. It might be nice, at times like this, to belong to a species whose special ability granted them cues for an individual rather than the majority in the room. The energy field hummed with professionalism and alarm. A single flick of my ear told me everything (everywhere) truly was as fine as everyone presented it.

But it must be very overwhelming to be a Fairy. Just the thought of tracking each and every person in the busy hospital foyer sent a lightning bolt of nausea to my stomach. Churning insect legs scrabbled against my stomach as magic fought for whatever footing it could reach. Cosmo settled himself in his newfound place and pushed flops of green hair back from his eyes in a long, slow pulse. Oh. I stared back in silence, twitching both my ears. If he were an Anti-Fairy, his hand would’ve passed straight over the scent gland we drakes develop in adulthood. My nose was sharp enough for that. He’d coat his hair and hand with it. Bleeding confidence, he’d expect no challenge to his rules. To his claims.

My presence leaves impact, he signaled in silent Anti-Fairy talk. If I’d been a better creche father, perhaps I’d have puffed my chest and disputed it. I did no such thing. I flitted my eyes down and tried to keep as small as I could. I sunk my claws in Jasmine’s scruffy fur.

I’ve tamed umbrae who would have my back if I brought them here, but that takes time and ingredients I left in my coat. You are so much bigger, and Fairies learn to fight with body instead of mind. You could so easily bring me crashing down. He could sink his teeth in my throat if it pleased him, actually. He didn’t have fangs, but I had no doubt he could (regardless of my screams). Perhaps the Finella reflex - so-called by the pseudoscience that upholds it - isn’t at all about Fairies holding instincts to hurt or “kill” their Unseelie counterparts. Perhaps the ancient researchers who wrote about it had simply looked forward in time to this exact moment and found me quivering in my chair.

“What’s it like?” Cosmo asked me, leaning forward. He clasped his hands between his knees, which would’ve spread scent to both palms in bigger claim. Butterfly wings danced against my throat. When I said nothing, he prodded, “What’s it feel like to spread bad luck?”

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

#Fairly OddParents #Anti-Cosmo #FOP Cosmo #Blonda #FOP fanfic #Frayed Knots #FAIRIES!#Cosmonopoly #“Cosmonopoly” is such a funny episode as Wanda works through her post-trauma memories with mounting horror lmfao #ridwriting #The bat with the hat #Dragonfly parents #Dragonfly aunt #Dragonfly grandpa #Jonathan Magnificent #apparently art #fic announcement #blood

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untitled5071 · 1 year ago

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I have a Lisa Frankenstein request! If you'd rather not, thats totally okay, but I'd love a modern au of them going to a my chemical romance concert. ^^ it's for me and for one of my friends too, and it would really mean a lot to us! Thank you so much for doing what you do!

I hope you like it!

🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

“Oh my god oh my god, I think this is it!”

Even though Lisa’s eyes were trained on the stage in front of her, her arms were busy shaking the daylights out of her husband, her hands on his shoulders while he chuckled adoringly at her enthusiasm. He wasn’t doing too good of a job at hiding his own, either; this concert may have been a gift for Lisa while they ‘traveled’ through Mexico as part of their “don’t get caught by the police” world tour, but he was excited too.

They hadn’t been to a concert in a long time; after Lisa was reanimated and recovered, the two of them had gotten as far away from Brookside as they could potentially get, and once the dust settled, they decided to do a little traveling to see what the modern world could offer them. They had no end of potential date ideas, but they both particularly liked live music.

Though their favorite of all time would always be the private one given in the living room of Lisa’s old home, they both enjoyed being among other music lovers and shouting lyrics like maniacs. Granted, he knew he wouldn’t be doing much shouting tonight in the sea of people they found themselves in-both because he knew he wouldn’t be heard and because shouting just wasn’t in the cards tonight, but it was all worth it for the sake of seeing Lisa so happy.

Speaking of Lisa, her declaration that the show was starting seemed to be right on the money, since the lights were starting to dim, the anticipatory roar of the crowd was starting to get louder and cell phone flashlights were starting to flick on like illuminated eyes across the arena. The creature divided his attention between Lisa and the stage as the sound of a heart monitor was projected over the screams of the fans, and she grabbed his stitched-on hand in a vice grip when a gurney containing a covered body was rolled onstage.

Lisa’s cheers joined that of the rest of the crowd when the body revealed itself to be the lead singer, clad in a hospital gown over his signature dark outfit and clutching a microphone. The first song was ironically called “The End”, and as the creature expected, Lisa sang every word at the top of her lungs, teased hair flying in every direction as she bounced along to the beat.

He knew buying her that second hand iPod Nano last year was a good idea.

The first verse ended with Gerard Way ripping off his hospital gown as the biggest curtain they had ever seen opened to reveal the rest of the band, already whaling away on their respective instruments. They all wore black outfits and parade marshal’s jackets (which seemed fitting), and they weren’t the only ones who had dressed the part.

Lisa had spent hours trying to pick the perfect combination of tights and tops for this concert (all black, of course), and had finally settled on black fishnet tights that she had torn and woven back together herself with more colorful embroidery thread (sticking heavily to purple and green to match her husband’s stitched limbs), a black tulle miniskirt and a black sports bra under a mesh top, complete with black and dark-gray striped arm warmers, to match the fashion of the time. He himself was wearing a leather jacket over a deep red shirt, and his best ripped jeans that Lisa distressed for him, in more ways than one. They blended in perfectly with the ocean of punks around them, and that was just fine by them.

The band cycled through their set with infectious energy and an electric stage presence, and the creature was surprised that the stadium they were in didn’t collapse under the weight of the stomping and jumping the audience was doing. He was particularly fascinated by the mosh pit that had formed towards the font; it was mesmerizing to see all of those bodies moving in such a disjointed but synchronized way that anyone could immediately understand was dangerous if not done properly. He had to respect it, honestly.

The biggest problem with it, on the other hand, was that it was blocking their view of the stage, and by the time the band’s most popular started (signaled by a single note that was almost drowned out by the crowd), the frenzied movements of the people closer to the stage got more intense, as did the noise level.

Lisa was staining herself on her tiptoes to see over the screaming heads in front of them, and when her husband noticed this, he put a hand on her shoulder gently, shuffling in the limited space that they had so that his back was to her, and squatted down slightly. Lisa got the hint immediately and hopped onto his back, and he hoisted her up so she could see over the several hundred flip phones being used to record the show and get a better view of the stage. She was delighted by this plan, holding onto him with her thighs and one hand while waving her other hand in the air, mirroring Gerard on stage. And even though her voice was meshing with thousands of others, even that of the actual lead singer, the creature thought her voice was the clearest and most beautiful of them all.

She must have been able to feel his adoring gaze somehow, because as the song ended in a shower of confetti and pyrotechnics, she bent down and kissed his right cheek first, then his left, whispering (or, given the noisy circumstance) said in a normal speaking voice,

“Thank you. I love you so much.”

And though he was particularly tongue-tied that evening and unable to speak the words back, he hoped that the kiss he gave her amidst the crowd’s raucous applause spoke his feelings adequately.

They stayed that way as the concert continued, the creature keeping Lisa safe in the arms collapsed around where she was perched on his back and Lisa sneaking little kisses or playing with his hair in between songs, and as the band played one of their slower pieces, the two undead souls swayed together, united in their love of music and each other.

These are the eyes and the lies of the taken

These are their hearts but their hearts don't beat like ours

They burn 'cause they are all afraid

When mine beats twice as hard

'Cause the world is ugly

But you're beautiful to me

#lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein fanfiction #lisa frankenstein 2024 #lisa swallows #the creature #my chemical romance

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vclvetfleur · 2 years ago

Text

Obedient Chapter 17

Roman Roy x fem!reader

Summary: During the Yacht trip, Kendall was announced as taking the blame for the scandal. And with that, Roman is now named COO. But Kendall had other things in mind, causing another rift in the family and causing more and more tension. You see through Kendall's PR stunt of being the good guy, but Jess disagrees with you.

Based off of S3 E2 Sucession

Tw: Child abuse, verbal, physical and emotional, hints about cSA, mentions of sexual abuse , mention of ED

If it is triggering, PLEASE SKIP THE TIME JUMP

WC: 6.5K

Notes: Pls take the tw into consideration. It is a dark story and I do not want to be responsible for any hard issues that people might deal with after reading. Take care of yourselves. I love you.

Chapter 17: Julius Ceasar

Kendall sent you a text, wondering if you were willing to join or not. You left him on read.

You agreed with everything he said, but a part of you didn’t think he was genuine. Some part of you believed it was just to get back at his father. It had to be. You also couldn’t leave your job. You could not afford to. You were finally comfortable. And Roman would be crushed. Also, where did you and Roman stand now? You had no clue. You didn’t want to continue this, but you couldn’t help yourself. If he held you and kissed you, you’d kiss him back. But you told yourself you wouldn’t. You didn’t think you would, but Roman had you wrapped around his fingers. He had complete control of your autonomy.

You always thought you needed to be there for Roman. It wasn’t a good time to leave him. At least not now. But it was never a good time to leave or let Roman be just… still. Something was constantly happening that you needed to come to rescue to comfort.

You laid back in your seat, reading a new book you had picked up. Shiv got a call from Tom, suspiciously going away. You looked at Roman, confused. He shrugged, watching Shiv as she fidgeted trying to listen to the news. He leaned over to Gerri for confirmation of what Shiv was talking about. It was exactly what Roman feared. Now that Kendall fucked this up, they had to reconsider COO.

He just pestered Shiv trying to get the information out. But Gerri had gotten the news already. “They’re live picking the new CEO” Roman exposed. You put your book down, looking over. “Woah-woah-what? That’s such bullshit. You already got-“ You tried to interject. Gerri gave you a look, hoping you’d drop it. You weren’t well-versed in this world. Of course, Logan would pull on his decision. She didn’t need you breaking Roman’s hopes even more. She wanted Roman to be CEO just as badly as you. She basically prepped him for it. She knew how much you cared about him, which warmed her heart, but she didn’t see this arguing and fighting for Roman doing anything for Roman. At least not with Logan.

Roman and Shiv went back and forth. They sent snarky remarks to one another. You sighed and went onto your phone, trying to stay out of this argument. “I mean 3 out of the 4 of us agree I should be CEO, so if we make a bet, I could win a lot of money right now.” Roman tried to continue to press onto Shiv’s nerves.

“Yeah- one is your pretend mommy and the other one jerks you off from time to time.” Shiv insulted not only Roman but you. You didn’t make eye contact, embarrassed that now people knew you and Roman were intimate and somewhat involved. It was just a small secret that now everyone seemed to be in the know about. “Oh wait- I’m sorry was that private? Were we not supposed to know you shoved your cock in your assistant's mouth?” Shiv continued to get at Roman.

“Don’t you have an actor to blow so your husband could watch?” Roman fired back at Shiv.

“I don’t know why you both know so much about each other's sex life.” You tried to chime in.

“It’s not like Roman even has one. Most of the people he’s been with has told every-“ Shiv tried to continue to insult Roman before Roman interrupted and loudly mocked her, making her voice sound obnoxious. “Welcome to my fucking world now.” Gerri whispered to you, sensing your discomfort. She had known about you and Roman for a bit now. But she saw how much you took care of Roman. She appreciated it. He needed someone like you.

Roman decided to go call Logan about the position and try to save his own ass. You watched the door intensely, worried about what it could end to. You knew he could be ready, but he didn’t think he was. He was also a nervous wreck and when he was nervous, he talked too much. And he was in the bathroom for too long. At least that’s what you thought. Maybe it was your anxiety making it seem even longer than it was. Roman left the bathroom, trying to remain bland in front of Shiv to make her think he did something worthy. The plane finally landed after a while of Roman and Shiv insulting and making fun of one of the other and trying to sabotage the other one. Your head was killing you with all the bantering. You couldn’t stand it. You needed an aspirin after this flight. But it only got worse when Shiv picked up a call from Logan. But Shiv, of course, took it to fuck with Roman.

“Roman shut up…” You mumbled to him as he tried to childishly mock her for the fifth time on this flight. You just dragged him into the car, trying to get you both somewhere calm enough, somewhere away from all this anxiety. Before you got in the car, Gerri pulled you to the side. “Hey- so if this ends up going public…” Gerri started. You shook your head no, trying to deny your relationship with Roman. “Uh- no-no. That’s not-“ You tried to deny. “Roman told me a while ago…” She dropped. Your lips turned into a straight line, looking around. You rubbed your forehead, looking back at her. “Uh- we broke up a bit ago. And uh- it’s probably not gonna… y’know…” You tried to explain to her.

“Oh well if that little night you spent in his room wasn’t much, if it was, just keep this under until the scandal is over.” She directed you. You nodded, feeling her hand pat down your shoulder. You felt embarrassed, knowing everyone saw. It was completely out. Even Logan had seen you sneak out. How humiliating. You and Roman drove to a hotel, waiting for the council to soon come. It seemed redundant, to have updates being sent your way on what the next move would be for Roman. You frantically answered emails and texts for Roman. Roman seemed oddly calm. He walked around, eating bits of the meal that was sent up to the room. Gerri made sure to check to see if his reputation was truly clean though. She had been searching everywhere to see if announcing Roman would be a bad idea.

You just kept Roman updated, but he dodged everything. “Roman, take this shit seriously. For once.” You begged. “Oh, come on… it’s just me and you in a room, alone…” He tried to ease you in. “Yeah, we’re always in a room. Alone.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s different.” He tried to set a certain mood. He kept dropping obvious innuendos, but you were too focused on what the next big thing would happen. You weren’t ready to comfort a grown man for not being able to fuck you.

“Yeah- different 'cause you actually wanna fuck.” You bullied him. You got a text from Gerri. She had just been told who the next CEO would be. Gerri was. “Oh fuck…” You whispered. You looked at Roman, his face finally serious as he anticipated your response. “Uh- Rome- I’m really fucking sorry, but it’s- it’s uh- it’s Gerri. Gerri’s CEO.” You broke the news to him. “You’re lying.” He denied. You shook your head and showed him the texts. He read them, hoping he was also misreading something. But it was right there.

‘Shiv blew it with Lisa. Logan told me it’s me’

Your heart broke for Roman. You sighed, wrapping your arms around him to only be shoved off of him lightly. He didn’t want to be touched. He just sat at the arm of the couch, looking away as he indulged in his own negative thoughts.

“Fucking-Fuck- I basically gave her that. I told dad it should be her.” He revealed to you. Your eyes grew. He shook his head, trying to save himself. “No- I said it should be me, but if It wasn’t it should be her, but uh- I guess it was never me… Uh- fuck hold up. Let me call Shiv. I wanna break the news to her.” He grinned, grabbing his phone before running off to the bedroom that was attached to the rest of the hotel room. He lay on the bed, calling up Shiv.

You watched Roman, trying to bully Shiv to hide his own hurt and his own insecurities. He rather make fun of Shiv than deal with the fact he also had been passed up for the position. He laid the phone down, staring at the ceiling.

You got up from the couch and walked over to the bedroom. You laid your shoulder and head on the door frame, watching him. He had his hands over his chest as he stared at the ceiling fan. “You alright, Rome?” You wondered.

“Why the fuck do you care?” He laughed, thinking you’d take it as a joke if he laughed off the insecurity at you. It felt less threatening to him.

“Cause I give a fuck about you. That’s why.” You defended. He looked over at you, raising his eyebrows as if to tell you he didn’t think you actually gave a fuck before looking up again at the ceiling. “Rome- come on. Don’t be a fucking baby now.” You whined, coming over to the bed. You sat down next to him, your legs curled up on his side. You leaned forward, looking down at him. You were invading his peripheral. “I, surprisingly, still give a fuck. Even if you’re the most annoying person I have ever encountered. But I do think, you’re also one of the smartest, funniest, most creative, and unique individuals I have ever met.” You tried to boost his ego.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make a great CEO, does it?” He tried to find a way to hurt his own feelings. To justify, even though some of his qualities were good, he had others that made him bad, along with his good traits making him even worse since they weren’t CEO traits.

“Those are all traits that make a great CEO. Steve Jobs was a fucking weirdo freak, but he was amazing. CEOs don’t become CEOs by not being creative and being fucking normal.” You tried to encourage him. You reached down to hold his hand as he kept his hands clamped across his chest. He loosened his grip on his hands, holding yours. “Why do you believe in me so much?” He genuinely wondered. He finally removed his gaze from the ceiling to you. He wanted to see if you’d lie to him.

“Cause- I don’t know. I just do. I think you’re ready Roman… I think you’re just as qualified as Kendall. You’re just- you’re all the good qualities of both your siblings.” You admit to him. “You’re charming like Shiv, but you have experience like Kendall. And then you have your weirdo freak qualities that make other younger sleaze ball CEO’s comfortable around.” You admit. His eyes softened his lip pouting. He genuinely felt so much love being with you.

“Can you just- can we- can we go back? But more normal?” He asked you one more question, but you did not comprehend anything he was actually saying to you. “What do you mean?” You asked. He scoffed, not believing that you had no idea what he had meant.

“Oh, fuck off- you know… just… I want to be fucking normal. Like a normal fucking-“ He tried to explain. You finally understood. This was Roman’s way of asking you to take him back and actually put a label on whatever this was that you both had. You sighed, unsure of what you wanted. You looked off, making Roman feel insecure about even asking you. “Yeah- no. It was fucking stupid.” He tried to insult his attempt and throw it out. “No this is perfect. You, hating me and occasionally sucking my dick is great.”

You rubbed your face, not wanting to deal with this confrontation. “Rome- I care- I do, but this is just… it’s not normal. I mean nothing about us screams consensual. You’re my boss who’s in his mid-30s and I’m a fresh out of college assistant. What do you think people are gonna say? Especially now. Plus- Rome, you need to learn boundaries and understand that-“ You tried to explain but Roman mocked your voice and didn’t bother to even listen.

“You’re more obsessed about how people view you than me.” He laughed. “It’s pathetic. It’s like you think people actually give a fuck about celebrity assistants. Wait- name me one celebrity assistant. Come on.” He pressured you. He was just insulting you because you brought out the actual truth of what this was, and he wasn’t going to let his ego be bruised any further than it already had been.

“This is another reason, Roman. This is exactly why I hate you sometimes. You’re a spoiled fucking pervert who gets away with shit because you play the damaged victim.” You began to insult him. “You could fix all your issues if you actually went to fucking therapy rather than cum in your own hand. Oh wait- sorry I forgot you can’t even look at your own cock.” You continued. “Oh, and you’re so perfect. Miss. Orphan.” He fired. He hadn’t known much about your family other than you never spoke about them. You never brought up memories of them. You did speak about a lot of other things though. Roman just put two and two together. “What’s the story there, huh? Did they just put you up or did they just not love you?” He continued, despite seeing your eyes wield up with tears. Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to hold back everything from sobbing. “Oh- I found it. They just didn’t love you. That’s it. Well, stop pushing that fucking narrative on me.” He insisted.

You grabbed a pillow before repeatedly hitting him. You didn’t want to genuinely hurt him, and you couldn’t just punch him, so this was the next best thing. Roman shouted as the fast and hard blows actually hurt him a bit. He grabbed your wrists to stop you as you finally cried and let out all the anger you had built up. “YOU. FUCKING. ASSHOLE!!” You shouted as he took the pillow away. He pinned you against the bed, holding your wrists to the bed. You kicked and tried to break free from him before spitting in his face. You let anger-induced tears stream down your face as you kept screaming at him. “You have no fucking right! You have no fucking right!” You screamed like a child. You continued before you got too tired to fight him. You laid there, completely exhausted, too tired to even run off. You curled up on the edge of the bed. “You’re a fucking asshole…” You whispered.

“So, I was right…” Roman tried to guess. You looked at him, shaking your head at how he had the audacity to continue to argue with you over this. You sat up, giving him what could only be compared to a death stare.

“Yea- there. You got it Rome. Yup. Mommy and Daddy didn’t love me, so I started dating my sexually inept boss.” You tried to hurt his feelings. He genuinely wanted to know what had happened between you and your parents though. He just stared, his eyes soft and his head low. He wanted to listen. You relented before giving in. “My parents weren’t there. And when they were they picked on me. A lot. Just like Logan does to you. If I got a bad grade, I was a fucking loser, dumbass, but if I got a good grade, I was a showoff, I wanted credit for nothing, I was an attention seeker. And then- something happened, and they called me a liar. So, it kept happening. Then I was a whore. And I asked for it. A 9-year-old. So, yea- I don’t have parents. And don’t even get me started at puberty. Even before. I ate too much. I spent too much money on food. I was a burden. I drained everything from them. And when I developed, I was a pig. I was ugly. I was a whore. I was a bitch. Everything was, even more, my fault.” You let yourself cry. “You know- I didn’t become vegan for animal reasons. I did it so my parents wouldn’t have to cook or buy me food anymore. So, they’d stop bullying me about food or eating.” You laughed as a reaction to how stupid it was. You wiped your face. “It made me lose enough weight that instead of being called fat, I’d be too skinny. But once they thought it boosted my ego, I was fat again.” You continued to laugh at how ridiculous the abuse was. Roman’s face dropped, and he felt guilty about attacking you based on your parents. If he knew, he would’ve maybe held back. Maybe. “Can I hug you?” He asked, watching as you held yourself. You needed comforting. You nodded, feeling Roman bring you in close to him. You just hid in his shoulder, not wanting to cry too much.

“Uh-I’m really fucking sorry- I just- I assumed-…” he tried to reason with you. You nodded, sniffling. “I know Roman… I know…” You whispered. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He just didn’t know how deeply your parents were abusive. Maybe they just weren’t as present or maybe they weren’t the best. But you had never given him any hints to show him it was this bad. “Logan blamed me too… for what… just, one of his friends.” Roman revealed to you. You pulled away, looking at him nearly about to sob even harder. You never cared about your own abuse, but knowing someone you knew had felt the same thing you did always killed you. “Oh, fuck off, don’t look at me like a run-over fucking puppy.” He tried to redirect your emotions. You tried to but couldn’t help it. Roman didn’t want to feel more shame on his abuse, putting your head back. He didn’t want to see the pity on your face. As if he was that fucked up and damaged.

“I’m sorry.” You whined as you tried to hide your emotions. You would’ve hated this too. “I just- I don’t like people knowing- just- you and Jess are the only ones who know.” You tried to confide in him. “Yeah- well- my whole family knows… And Gerri… And well one or two of Dad’s friends…” He admits. His dad’s friends only knew because well, they were also sick perverts who had probably thought it was okay to brag.

“I’m sorry for making fun of your sexual- fucking- you know…” You tried to acknowledge. “Yeah- I wish I knew before saying your mom and dad don’t love you.” Roman did his best to return an apology to you. You laughed at his attempt. “I- I just… I-“ You wanted to gather your thoughts, but they were so scattered.

Gerri called Roman, interrupting your sentence. You looked down before answering the call for him. He grabbed the phone and talked to her. He had to be down at the office. Now.

He grabbed his coat, looking at you, wondering if you were gonna tag along. You eventually left the bed and followed him. But you stayed in the car while Roman went running his errands and did what Logan asked of him. You were in a trance. You had confessed everything to Roman. Not many details, but enough. You didn’t ever tell people. You found it too embarrassing. All you could remember is the only things you had of your parents.

(TW: INTENSE CHILD ABUSE, VERBAL, MENTAL AND PHYSICAL)

-15 years ago-

Your mom lay on the couch, cigarette in hand, and watching the television. Your dad had been gone for what seemed like months. Mom always got sad when Dad left this long. You never understood why he was always gone. It seemed off. But it was probably work. You saw someone's dad come in for career day and say he had business trips.

But you weren’t sure what your dad did. Just that he had something. Mom ignored you more when he wasn’t home. She looked at you very rarely when Dad was gone. But when she did, it felt like she was mad at you.

You hadn’t had lunch since Friday at school. It was 4 p.m. now. On a Sunday. You probably had some snacks in the pantry. But there weren’t any left anymore. You ate everything that you could possibly make yourself.

“Mommy…” You whispered, scared you’d wake her up. She hadn’t responded. You quietly walked over to see if she had been awake. Her eyes were shut with a lit cigarette in her hand. You walked closer, grabbing the cigarette from her. You didn’t want another accident. You pulled the cigarette off her fingers gently before turning around to put it out before hearing a loud snarl coming from behind you. Fear immediately came over you.

“Are you fucking shitting me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” She yelled, grabbing your little arm, and roughly pulling you to her. “What the fuck are you doing with this? Are you trying to steal this from me? Huh?” She interrogated you before you could even answer. She only saw one way of teaching you by taking her cigarettes.

You didn’t know why she was so upset. What did you do? She never explained. She just got mad.

Before you knew it, you felt an intense burning on your arm. You cried and tried to pull away.

All you wanted was to ask for a sandwich.

But the more you cried, the worse the punishment got and the madder she got. You learned that early on.

-6 months later-

Dad finally came home after doing god knows what. The first night he came home, Mom and Dad fought all day and screamed. You barely got any sleep. You had done everything to block the noise, but it wouldn’t stop. But then after days of fighting, turned into days of them being silent and laughing. Dad bought some stuff to make Mom happy. They didn’t pay attention to you when they were like that, depending on what Dad bought Mom. But whatever it was this time, they barely acknowledged your existence. It was better this way. You weren’t their main target.

It was Christmas time, and the school had a fair. There were vendors to buy gifts for yourself or your family. The thing is your family didn’t celebrate Christmas. But to keep a front, sent you off with $10. How could they be so bad if they gave their kids money? Right? Well, you wandered the fair, excited and cheerful. You spent what seemed like hours trying to pick the perfect gift. You settled on a stuffed animal of your favorite toy. The man asked who it was for before wrapping it. “Myself.” You smiled. You were so excited to go home and play with it.

You got home, and your mom immediately stopped and asked what you got her and your dad. You went silent. “I got myself…” You mumbled. “Yourself? God- you’re so fucking selfish. We taught you better than this. We give you fucking everything. We had nothing when we were your age. I had to share a room with my sisters when I was a kid. And you have your own room, toys, clothes, ps2. And you’re too greedy to buy something small for us? Your father slaves all day. Fucking Christ- wait for dad to come home. Get the fuck to your room.” Your mom berated. You ran to your room, hiding your new toy. You couldn’t afford to get it taken. But once Dad came over, it was pretty much done. You shut your brain off and tried to not cry. Crying made everything worse.

And worst of all, he found the toy. And he ripped it up in front of you. If he couldn’t have something nice, you shouldn’t either.

-2 weeks later-

You had spent the night in your room, playing with your baby doll. You rocked it back and forth and fed it. You were more attached to baby dolls than barbies. You liked to take care of things rather than live through dolls. Suddenly the lights shut off. Fear hit you. You ran out of the room, crying and screaming. You looked for your parents and saw your dad over the fuse box. He had purposely shut the lights. All he did was laugh at you as you wept. You wanted a hug but only got laughter in return. Laughter that was not directed with you, but towards you.

You couldn’t trust them to protect you.

(start here if you wanna skip the TW)

-Present-

You sat there, wiping a tear that ran down your face. Roman had gotten back into the car after being gone for a while to see you curled up, holding yourself. He could sense how upset you were. “Fuck- did I accidentally fucking- I don’t know did I fucking send out an offensive tweet? What’s wrong?” He asked you.

You shook your head, wiping your face quickly. You painfully smile over at him.

“You look like a fucking serial killer. What the fuck is wrong?” He asked. You just shook your head and grabbed a water bottle that was in the car. You took a sip before taking a breath to answer him. “Uhhh- I’ve never told anyone other than Jess about my parents… Just… it’s a lot of old memories…” Your voice croaked. His lips curled into a partial frown, unsure how to fix this. “Uhm- well if it’s- it’s going to make any difference… You did watch Logan knock a tooth out of my mouth. So, call it even.” He shrugged. It was true. He hadn’t witnessed it. But he definitely knew too much about you that you weren’t willing to be seen. “Also cheer up, we’re seeing your fucking best friend and my coked-out brother.” He thought it would cheer you up in the slightest. It did. You could find comfort in Jess.

“Thank you…” You whispered, laying your head onto his shoulder. You slipped your hand onto his, intertwining your fingers together. Roman hid a smile, acting nonchalant.

“For what? I’m not doing it for you.” He wasn’t sure about what you were thanking him for.

“Shut the fuck up. You- Thank you for not making my parent thing… like a big deal…” You tried to explain, but he ignored it. It was exactly what you wanted. The car stopped at Kendall’s ex-wife’s apartment, and you had already texted Jess you were both on your way. He helped you out of the car, making sure you didn’t trip on the corner of the street or something. You walked in the lobby and waited for an okay to go up the elevator.

Jess got the okay to let you both up. You went up the elevator with him before being met by Jess. She hugged you immediately. “Hey, fucking crazy night…” She whispered, hoping Roman didn’t hear. “I know… what fucking crazies…” You mumbled before being led to the living room with Roman and Jess. Roman walked through, anticipating to bully Kendall before finding Shiv curled up on the couch.

“Okay, well, looky looky here.” He already began his bullying. Shiv just asked how Logan was, but you had left the room to be with Jess.

“Uh- Jess- I- Uh- I fucked up… I told Rome… about Angela and Mick…” You confronted her. You rarely called your parents by ‘mom’ or ‘dad’. They were just people you knew as long as you were concerned. Her eyes widened and she was completely speechless. “Jesus…you’re fucking in love with him or something…” She couldn’t believe it. “Why?” She asked.

“Uh- he made a comment. So, I cried and told him. Not details. But just- y’know. The basic knowledge…” You tried not to delve too deep into it. You were worried it would end in you crying in Rava’s kitchen. “I genuinely don’t know… I think he gets it…” You rationalized it.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, putting her hand over yours. Your bottom lip pouted, but Jess warned you not to cry. “Shush. Come on. Don’t do all that. You have me. And my mom. And my dad. And brothers. Come on. Don’t do that.” She giggled, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Now let’s eavesdrop.” She dragged you, pretending to be working as she sat at the corner table and watched the sibling’s banter.

Roman treated Shiv like a war criminal, under investigation as if he was trying to uncover the biggest secret in history. He couldn’t stop pushing and bringing out stupid metaphors. “This is what you’re seriously into?” Jess teased you. You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Tell me more about that guy with the rat tail from a year ago again.” You reminded her of a god-awful man she had hooked up with one too many times.

“Oh, fuck off. Richie wasn’t… fuck yea, okay that was disgusting…” She tried to keep her laughter low enough.

Once Kendall came in, you and Jess watched intensely. This was going to be so much more interesting.

“Oh, here he comes, the attention whore.” Roman insulted him to the room. Kendall treated it like a normal conversation, but Roman held such a giant grudge. You didn’t blame him. Because of Kendall, Roman was completely humiliated. Given a position to be given away simply because his brother wanted to fuck with their dad. “I did bring you those Danish pastries though. They’re on the table.” Roman ended his rant by trying to prove to Kendall his shit talking about his little brother having no business being public. Kendall thanked him. “It was y/n’s idea.” He pushed the credit to you. It wasn’t. You told him not to bother. But he did anyway. But the space wasn’t private. The siblings moved off, leaving you and Jess. Jess and you just stood by the door, letting people go in if they were permitted to by Kendall. You both sat on the stairs, looking over the view of the apartment.

“This is like… dude… just- what the fuck…” You sighed, laying your head on the metal railing. “I know… But Kendall has a point…” Jess revealed. You pulled away, looking at her with a scrunched-up eyebrow, and your lips moved into disgust.

“Oh please. He doesn’t mean any of that shit. He just hates Logan. And is mad he’s not CEO. He doesn’t care about rape victims.” You scoffed. Jess looked off, not wanting to argue with you. But she didn’t think you were right about Kendall’s intentions. I mean Kendall had a daughter. He had a little sister. He was very liberal compared to his dad and Roman. Maybe not as much as Shiv, but Kendall made a point to stay up to date. “If you think Kendall actually cares about rape victims it’s like saying Bill Cosby doesn’t have pills in his drawer.” You compared. “Oh, and Roman is such a poster child for stopping oppression.” She insulted. She looked up at you, waiting for your rebuttal. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to argue either.

“Don’t do that shit…” You mumbled, playing with the necklaces that dangled down your neck. “Do what? You started it with Ken.” She stated.

“Yeah- but me insulting Ken and you insulting Roman are different.” You tried to pointed out.

“Not really… I mean, you’re saying Ken is faking because of Logan. And not cause he’s surrounded by women. I mean, he’s standing up for those women. For victims. You, especially, should be glad someone is speaking out.” She began to rant, letting one thought she didn’t mean to let split, go through.

You stayed quiet, staring at her, hurt. “Yeah- someone like me… my bad…” You whispered. “You know Roman is like me too… so yeah, where was Kendall then?” you questioned her. You probably should’ve kept that to yourself, but it was too late. “You know that’s not- Look- just- I don’t think Ken is doing this for no reason. I think just- he’s trying to right his wrongs maybe.” She tried to suggest, but you weren’t going to budge. This was a lot to just say the victims need to be taken seriously. He was just smearing his family online honestly rather than talking about victims.

Roman left the room, annoyed slamming the door after a comment was made against him by Shiv about his ability to actually have sex rather than expose himself. “Fucking bitch.” He mumbled. You turned your head hearing Kendall calling out and Shiv laughing at him. You got up, quickly and ran to his side. “Hey- hey, you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah- fucking grant. My sister’s a cunt and your boss is a fucking deadbeat who’s trying to make daddy love him.” He said to Jess. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Connor soon followed Roman as well trying to see if he was okay.

“Rome- hey, relax. She’s just- she’s dealing with her own shit and thinks it funny to make fun of you…” Connor tried to resolve this without being on Shiv’s side. “Yeah- no. She hates her husband and takes it out on us. Perfectly fine. The wicked fucking bitch of the east thinks she’s funny.” He continued to insult Shiv, despite not being here. “What’d she say?” You asked. Roman stopped any talk about it being leaked. He was too embarrassed. He especially didn’t need Jess hearing.

“Alright. Come on, it’s been a long night. She’s just…” Connor tried to convince Roman to go back in. “No- no. Fuck her.” He refused, but after you and Connor settled him down, he felt ready enough to confront Shiv again. All it took was you to boost his ego a bit.

“Don’t let her get to you… Just… uh- go ahead…” You pushed him before making him go back in.

“So, you are in love with him…” Jess whispered. You blew out air, looking up. You looked over at her, shrugging.

“Probably…” You admit to yourself. “I guess I d-“ You said before watching Kendall rush out of the room. What the fuck was going on in that room? They all left the room and waited for Kendall to come back up. You talked to Roman about your plans with him after you left Rava’s. You both needed a break. “Rome- you alright?” You checked in once more. He nodded, just avoiding Shiv. But Shiv tried to find everyone’s viewpoint before making her own. You watched carefully, hoping she doesn’t upset Roman too harshly. Shiv proposed they go against Logan and take down Logan. Roman didn’t want to, but sooner became interested in the idea. Connor sat back with you and Jess, eating the Danish pastries Roman had bought Kendall. “So how long have you and Roman been a thing?” He asked you. You and Jess looked at each other, before you answered.

“Uhh- it’s hard to say… uhhh- maybe like- 3…3 or 4 months. No, yeah. Maybe 4 months. 3.” You weren’t sure. You both were always on and off so it was hard to understand when you were ever on or off. You weren’t sure if you both were on or off right now. Thank god Roman saved you from the conversation, bringing Connor into their debate. But Kendall finally arrived. All the talk about ‘killing’ dad hurt Roman. It was evident. He didn’t want to admit Logan was as bad as everyone was saying. He wanted to think Logan was better than he was. Kendall made a great point, separating everyone into divisions of leadership, but you were right. This whole thing had a motive. Kendall wanted to be in charge.

“Oh- what was that about Ken caring about victims?” You whispered to Jess. She remained quiet. No one came to an agreement and went to consult whoever they could consult to before regrouping.

Jess got up, answered another house call, and saw a box of donuts being delivered. She looked confused, setting them down. “This has to be some kind of trauma thing. Right?” You asked her as the siblings stared at the box, scared and hypothesized.

“This is dark…” She whispered. Connor inspected and sniffed the donuts, but the kids were debating if it was tampered with.

Kendall thankfully cut the conversation short and tried to keep the others in line. But in result, treating Connor as if he were a child, sent Connor away and forced Connor to decline. Kendall’s ego was too big to let his siblings shine. Or anyone else for that matter.

“Fine. You’re irrelevant.” He insulted Connor, repeating hurtful words as Connor pleaded. “Ken, shut the fuck up. Grow up.” You couldn’t watch Kendall emotionally abuse Connor.

“Roman, control your little yap dog.” He wouldn’t even acknowledge you. “Are you fucking kidding me? Just cause I’m telling yo-“ You tried to reason, but Kendall insulted you once more. “Just because my baby brother wiggles his dick in your face doesn’t mean you have any room to speak.” Kendall struck you with an insensitive comment.

“Woah- Ken…” Jess tried to intervene.

“Okay- fuck you. Don’t do that shit.” Roman defended. “Who’s house are we in? Oh yea- the one who doesn’t love you anymore.” He tried to hurt Kendall back. “Pass. Fuck you dude.”

“Oh what? Because I insulted your personal stripper?” He tried to reason with him. “Okay Ken, fuck you. Shove it up your fucking dick hole. Come on.” You snapped. But Kendall just went on and on. It just made you uncomfortable. “Roman... Come on. Fuck this. I’m not dealing with a fucking dude who knows his dealer’s number rather than his kids' birthdays. Fucking dead-beat.” You insulted once more before leaving with Roman following behind.

You, Shiv, and Roman sat in a car, Roman reporting to Logan about everything that had gone down. You laid your head on the window, trying to find a moment of peace.

Notes: Please do self-care if you need it. These are some personal experiences, yet dramatized, it is a part of me. Not necessarily the mother portion, but the daddy issues are strong :)

Chapter 18

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