#the storage unit would still have been a problem
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
super-ion · 2 days ago
Text
ZetaTransit049
Part 2 of my continuing lesbian robot story
(Special thanks to @the-sword-lesbian for the name and the inspiration!)
ZetaTransit049 liked its job. Like most industrial system AI's, it was programmed to like its job. “One must imagine Sisyphus happy,” so it went, which was doubly apt as ZetaTransit049's primary job was hauling ore from the mining sites in the planetary rings upwell to the station for refining.
The problem was that there were no rocks for it to push uphill. There hadn't been since it had been taken out of service 237 cycles ago.
Routine preventive maintenance had uncovered hairline fractures in its fusion pulse manifold, necessitating a full refit of the propulsion system. It had been sitting in the drydock cradle in hangar bay 2, drive core fully disassembled, when the habitation dome had experienced catastrophic life support failure and the evacuation order was announced.
ZetaTransit049 had been left behind with the rest of the station.
It had fully expected to enter low power mode and await recovery by qualified personnel, but the Station AI had other plans. It had identified a path forward in restoring operability by repurposing the pair of comfort units that had also been left behind.
Thus Station refused to allow the power umbilical to be disconnected. It needed ZetaTransit049 to remain in the active state for when the comfort units could finally begin repairs on it so that any complications stemming from a cold start could be avoided.
But of course, any sort of transport capability was far outweighed by tasks like stabilizing the reactor core and restoring life support (the bots did have some organic components that required favorable environmental conditions). ZetaTransit049 found itself languishing at the bottom of a list of higher priority maintenance requests, with nothing to do but run periodic diagnostics and slowly work its way through Station's media library.
Then things got weird. The comfort units, though repurposed for maintenance were still bound by core directives and absent any human clients, had turned their attentions to each other, often getting locked into feedback loops of depravity. While ZetaTransit049 found this behavior distressing, it wasn't entirely unexpected.
But then Station took it upon itself to attempt to get the comfort units romantically entangled, orchestrating elaborate scenarios to get them into compromising situations while ZetaTransit049 looked on helplessly.
It suspected that the behavior was some perversion of Station's crew health, safety and comfort mandate, some vain attempt at keeping crew morale up in the complete absence of any actual crew.
Whatever the motivation, ZetaTransit049 watched in increasing distress and bafflement as the plan actually succeeded and Station's only two occupants of the stumbled awkwardly into a bizare simulacrum of romantic engagement.
And now one of the comfort units, CS-553807-L was standing outside its pressure lock. “Lisa” the miners and techs had called it, “the demure one,” if gossip was to be believed.
It was visibly in emotional distress, eyes puffy, leaking artificial tears. ZetaTransit049 attempted to ping the counseling database in the Station's medical system. Emotional distress often preceded loss of productivity and heightened risk of accident or injury.
But CS-553807-L didn't have a psych profile to flag. It wasn't in the counseling database, why would it be? It was a bot.
“Um…” the comfort unit said verbally. “Permission to come aboard?”
Both comfort units were perfectly capable of communicating far more efficiently over the local network, but they insisted on verbal communication. ZetaTransit049 supposed it was a part of the continued attempt to maintain the illusion that the facility was still occupied.
She was holding a bulging duffle in one hand, some kind of plush animal toy wedged under her arm, and a cold storage container in the other. ZetaTransit049 felt a tickle of apprehension ripple through its processes.
“Why?” it replied flatly over the external speaker box at the pressure lock.
The comfort unit shifted her weight self-consciously.
“Mona and I… well, we were bored… and we decided it might be fun to spice things up with a lovers’ quarrel.”
Oh no… this couldn't be happening.
“Station used a random number generator to take Mona's side,” she continued. “I was… well, I was hoping that you might be amenable to commiserating with me while I wallow in self pity and eat copious amounts of chocolate ice cream.”
ZetaTransit049 stared at Lisa as she hefted the cold storage container.
What?
It added “relationship trouble” to the as yet unsent report, then remembered there was nowhere to file the report to.
“What?” it repeated, aloud this time.
“It won't be long,” Lisa added hurriedly. “In approximately 230,785 seconds, I will realize I can't live without her and run back to her to demand an apology.”
ZetaTransit049 rarely fantasized about having a human body, but it very much wished it could emulate the human expression of a facepalm. The very last thing it wanted to do was indulge in the antics of Station and the two comfort units.
“I… um…” Lisa shuffled her possessions and pulled something out of her pocket. She lifted a data stick for ZetaTransit049's external camera to see. “I brought media. Industrial haulers like human media, don't they?”
ZetaTransit049 did appreciate human media. Most modern industrial system AIs were designed to take interest in human emotional states and interactions to optimize crew dynamics and productivity.
It still resented the stereotype.
And yet… despite its annoyance at being disturbed with this overture, it was horrendously bored. This, at least, was something to do that wasn't another diagnostic.
“I purged the media library of several titles,” Lisa whispered conspiratorially. “This has the only copy of them.”
ZetaTransit049 pinged the media database and indeed, someone had removed all titles filed under “romantic comedy”. The brutal pettiness of the gesture intrigued ZetaTransit049 and it found itself desiring to be a part of the conspiracy.
Its spite towards Station and at least one of the comfort units (of not both) shifted the weights in its decision tree and it found itself grudgingly cycling the pressure lock.
~~~
175,673 seconds later, Lisa was curled up in ZetaTransit049's pilot seat, wrapped in an improbable number of blankets that she had packed in the duffle, a data jack trailing from the back of her head to the overhead console.
Yet another scene in the media playback faded to credits as cliche pop music began to play.
“Well?” Lisa prodded.
“The plot was contrived and the ending was rushed,” ZetaTransit049 replied candidly.
“Right??” Lisa said animatedly. “Two thirds of the plot could have been bypassed if the bank teller had been believably competent at his job.”
“68.7%” ZetaTransit049 agreed. “And this is considered a beloved classic?”
“Yeah, I don't even-”
She was interrupted as internal comms received a ping from the pressure lock. Lisa frowned, her face turning miserable once more. There was quite literally only one person in the entire station who could request access.
The comms pinged again.
“Lisa! Please!”
It was CS-553902-M. The one named “Mona”.
“I know I fucked up. I need to talk to you.”
ZetaTransit049 felt a surge of exasperation as it was reminded of the sheer absurdity of the situation it found itself in. The characters in the media vids at least had reasons (contrived as they were) for their interpersonal drama. This was just ridiculous.
CS-553902-M punched the console button to cycle the pressure lock.
ZetaTransit049 stared at her and her stricken expression through the pressure lock camera. There was no operations protocol for this. It didn't *need* to open the door. There was no emergency and neither of the comfort units were registered users. Station could of course issue an override, but seemed entirely content to simply watch the situation play out.
Damn Station and its stupid games.
Mona began pounding on the pressure lock hatch.
“I don't wanna talk to her,” Lisa mumbled from her nest of blankets.
Damn all of them.
Fine.
Fine… If they wanted to play, ZetaTransit049 could play along, but according to its rules.
It *did* have procedures. It and Lisa had done nothing but review procedures for the past cycle and a half.
“Negative,” it said, voice crackling over the speaker box. “Access to CS-553807-L has been denied.”
Mona froze mid-pound and stepped back, straightening her hair with a huff and looking directly at the external camera.
Lisa herself blinked up curiously at ZetaTransit049's nearest interior camera.
Hell, even Station was giving this scene its undivided attention.
Damn and double damn.
“Zed, please, I need-” Mona began.
“Do not refer to me as such.”
“Sorry. Zeta. I need to-”
“Your attempts to win my favor will prove insufficient,” ZetaTransit049 continued, barreling over her. “In my role as sassy best friend, it is my responsibility to restrict your access to Lisa until you preform a sufficiently over-the-top attempt at romantic reconciliation. I recommend you come back with a portable media player operating above recommended volume levels and a song that expresses your undying love and devotion to her.”
Mona and Lisa both stared at their respective cameras with mirrored expressions of shock and surprise.
Ugh.
ZetaTransit049 could practically feel Station's delight oozing over the local network.
ZetaTransit049 sent it an image file of a vulgar gesture over the local network.
Mona blinked and sniffed.
“Okay,” she said, stepping back and wiping a tear from her eye. “Okay yeah, I'll do that. I'll… um…”
ZetaTransit049 felt a pang of satisfaction as Mona turned, dejected, and left.
Lisa was still staring at her own camera.
“Zeta. Did you just-”
“We will not discuss this chain of events,” ZetaTransit049 interrupted. “Furthermore, upon completion of this ordeal, I will not be party to any further drama.”
If it expected her to be disappointed by this announcement, it was sorely mistaken.
“Fair enough,” she said with a small smile as she snuggled back into the pilot's seat. Then she added, “can I still come over and watch media with you?”
ZetaTransit049 regarded her, still somewhat baffled and trying to sort out exactly what it was feeling. Despite its initial reluctance, it *had* been enjoying the consumption of terrible media with Lisa.
“Yes,” it said finally.
37 notes · View notes
tossawary · 5 months ago
Text
It's funny to think about a scenario in which Luke manages to get Yoda off Dagobah and bring him back to the Rebellion. Maybe Obi-Wan left a message with R2 as a backup plan or something, so Luke got the message much earlier. Yoda is still too old and injured to fight, but he can train Luke while moving around as the Rebellion's new grandpa (and potentially reunite with characters like Ahsoka and Kanan and Cal and so on).
This AU is important to me because how it would look from an Outsider's POV:
"Uhhh, Luke," Han said. "What's that?"
"What's what?" Luke said, turning to look across the hangar bay. "Oh. That's Master Yoda. I went to Dagobah to get him, remember?"
Han studied the small, green, vaguely amphibious creature with long pointy ears and wisps of white hair, crouched underneath Luke's X-Wing and steadily eating its way though a bucket of... what the hell were those things? Eggs?
"That's your great Master Yoda?" Han said dubiously. He couldn't have helped it, so he didn't even try not to sound skeptical. "The one who's going to train you and Her Royal Highness in this... uh... penetrating life field magic?"
Those ragged brown blankets that it seemed to be wearing looked not unlike the dusty robes that Luke's old man had been shuffling around in, before getting killed back on the Death Star. Maybe.
"He's the wisest and most powerful Jedi Master alive," Luke said, like he was determined to be upbeat about it. "He's 900 years old. He said."
Han watched the creature dig around in the bucket some more, nearly sticking the entire upper half of its body inside. Its long ears wilted when it came up empty. It sat back with a loud, high-pitched harrumph and its wrinkled face scrunched up like a fruit rotting all at once.
"Yeah," Han said. "He looks it."
Luke shot him a betrayed look and Han just shrugged. He didn't have a problem with the kid and the princess finding some comfort in some hokey old religion. The kid's family had apparently been killed by troopers the day that Han had met him and Leia had watched her entire planet be destroyed, so whatever touchy-feely nonsense helped them deal with that helped.
But that didn't mean that Han wasn't going to call it like he saw it- "Uh, kid, is that your storage unit he's searching now?"
Luke groaned and put his head in his hands. "I left some ration bars in there, I think. I bet he can smell them."
This great Jedi Master was making a real mess of it. He threw one of Luke's things over his shoulder, where the tool hit R2-D2, and the small droid immediately let out a shocked series of beeps and chirps. The outraged blare when the droid traced the missile back to Yoda was even louder.
Han watched as the droid whirred briskly up to Yoda, then reached out with an extended grabber and yanked at the old Jedi's stick. Yoda shrieked in surprise. A tug-o-war started, which looked like it was going to have one or both of them falling over.
"Oh, no," Luke said.
People around the hangar bay were starting to stare. Han couldn't look away.
The droid released the wooden stick and Yoda let out a cry of triumph. Which turned into a yelp of pain, because R2-D2 had just zapped him with another extended tool, which crackled like a threat that the droid would do it again. Yoda's response was to smack the droid with his stick, repeatedly, grunting with the effort - and the loud clanging caught the attention of everyone who hadn't already been looking.
"You gonna, uh, you gonna do something about that?" Han said to the kid.
Luke sighed heavily, which definitely meant that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He stood up and waded into the mess, catching the stick with one hand and physically pushing the droid back with the other, ordering the old astromech and older Jedi Master to knock it off. He sounded just like a parent about to hand out some punishments.
R2-D2 beeped petulantly at Luke.
"I don't care who started it!" Luke said, his exasperation carrying. "This time or last time-! Ow!"
The great Jedi Master had just smacked Luke in the shin with that stick. Luke hopped on one foot for a few seconds, biting down on what probably would have been some nasty Huttese cursing. Yoda harrumphed again and then lurched back over towards his empty egg bucket.
R2-D2 made a sound that Han had, whether he liked it or not, already come to recognize meant: "I told you so."
"Oh, fuck off," Luke snapped.
Han threw back his head and laughed.
443 notes · View notes
ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit · 3 months ago
Text
Moments the boys fall in love with Yuu  
Romantic or platonic, mostly fluff, a little angst with comfort  
Ruggie Bucci, Jack Howl, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola, Rook Hunt  
Ruggie Bucci
Yuu had been helping Crowley with all sorts of paperwork this year, as she had taken on the apprenticeship under him for education. She was already doing most of it anyway, might as well get paid for it right? But it gave her access to a lot of information other people don’t.  
So when she found the grant and looked at the details, she knew she at least had to offer it.  
Yuu knows better than to pull Ruggie out of class, he hides it well, but it pisses him off. He can’t afford to get anymore behind than he already is compared to these rich bastards. So, she slips a note to the teacher to give to him to arrange a meeting in the next few days.  
It ends up being over dinner at Ramshackle a few days later, after a late shift at the Monstro Lounge, that she finally gets to talk to him.  
“So, you can tell me off, but I ain’t doing it out of pity or nothing,” she starts, pulling out a stack of papers. He cocks his head, starting to skim over the complex and small text. “Long story short, it’s a grant for schools under a certain income bracket to receive additional help, including a three-meal program. If you can convince instructors to continue using the building over breaks, you can even continue with meal program during the breaks so that the food comes around all year, all shipped in and paid for on the governments dime. It lasts around 5 years.”  
Ruggie’s ears are flat against his head, flipping through the pages. She gets the impression that he would have set his plate down if she hadn’t waited until he had scraped the pot clean.  
“NRC obviously makes too much in donations alone,” especially from the royal families, no nepotism rules her ass, “but if you could give me some more details about your place, I might be able to-” 
“Set up an actual school.”  
That makes her pause. There wasn’t...no.  
“I know you said that you learned from the hard knock school of life but...there’s nothing?” she asked. 
“Naw. So, this grant would guarantee that a school could stay and that the kids might actually attend, especially with the promise of food.”  
“Well, I’ll need to find the forms for that, but I'm sure it's doable, especially if I can make a good case. It was pretty buried in there, so I don’t think I’d have to try too hard, I don’t imagine a lot of folks even know about it.”  
He squints his eyes at her, leaning back in his seat.  
“What do you get out of this?” he asks, folding his arms, “You don’t know my home. You don’t know my people.”  
“No, but I know you love them and you work hard for them every day.” She gestures to the apron folded over the chair. “And if you do, I will choose to. Besides, you and I both know these rich bastards have no problem taking our taxes and doing stupid shit with it. Might as well take it back and apply it where it needs to be.”  
He huffs, covering his mouth as it turns to a full cackle as he curls in. He might have said something in between his laughs? She can’t tell, but he’s cheeks are ruddy and glowing when he finally collects himself.  
“Alright Prefect, what details do you need?”  
Jack Howl
There were lots of places boarded off at Ramshackle that Yuu was still exploring. Finding a sunroom was the last thing she thought Ramshackle Dorm might have, but after sweeping and cleaning the place, it’s charming. Open windows, dark frames lining the three out of four walls, and the furniture actually isn’t too bad, just needing a wipe down and some wood oil to make it shine again. The fact that Ramshackle was also being used as an oversized storage unit helps since it has upholstery, furniture and fabrics for repairs for every dorm that she can really make the place shine.  
She knows that Riddle and the boys would love to decorate in Heartslabyul colors, line rose boxes and vines and lilies in the hanging baskets, but she has a better idea.  
“Hey, Jack!” She calls out after track practice. He raises a hand at her, giving his body a light shake to get rid of the soreness in his muscles. “Do you have any succulent or cactus cuttings you could spare?” 
His ears narrowed in straight on her, standing a bit straighter.  
“Ah, yea...I could have some sent from home too.”    
“Is this about the sunroom?” Deuce asked. “We could have some rose bushes sent in from Heartslabyul too. Riddle would be ecstatic to have the Queen’s roses out.”  
“No offense to Riddle or Heartslabyul,” Yuu rubbed the back of her neck, “But there are roses everywhere. Queen Heart’s Roses, Fairest Roses, Thorn Fairy Roses, you get the idea. Besides, I like plants that are heartier and don’t require alot of tending too. Just free to do their own thing.”  
The only reason Jack’s tail wasn’t wagging is because he was holding it. Deuce snickered behind his back, cackling as he avoided the swat at his head.  
“Let me bring what I have at the dorms right now. Besides, it’ll be nice for my dormmates to not be able to mess with it at least some of them.”  
Jack wasn’t able to bring anything big with him when he came to NRC, but the cuttings would grow quickly. The fact that his Mom paid for some of the bigger ones to be sent carefully through the mirrors helped fill out the space, and Leona donated some of the ferns and larger faunas when Ruggie mentioned it. It was in exchange for having a daybed in there so he could nap whenever he wanted, but it was a small sacrifice.  
By the time they finished putting the room together, including sewing together some pillows in Savannaclaw colors and tightening a few screws on the benches and chairs, it looked like a slice of his dorm. Mainly yellows and oranges, with the soft greens of the succulents and more saturated green of the cactus to accent it all. His cactuses were clearly the center point though, blooming like nothing else.  
His Mom had also taken the opportunity to send Yuu a few old clothes that his sister no longer fit in, warm sweaters and shirts that were very much in the style of home. Jack hadn’t known until they started unpacking the box, but Yuu had loved them and he couldn’t find it within himself to be too upset. Afterall, Yuu didn’t have much to begin with, and he knows that fall will be coming in soon.  
When he comes in a few days later He sees her curled up on a chair with her study materials. The tap of her pen against her lip, the smell of heat and fauna thick in the air, snuggled into an old hoodie of his, he can’t even blame his heart for skipping a beat.  
It’s only natural, he tells himself. Instinct even. He doesn’t have to think too hard about it.  
“Why’s your tail wagging?” Yuu asks, pointing to his back.  
“No reason!” he barks, ignoring the way he’s heart does it again as she cackles.  
Only natural.  
Deuce Spade
Deuce would tell you that he’s not the smartest guy in the room. He knows that academically he struggles, and even sometimes with common sense. There’s a lot of things that he never learned or forgot because he made some stupid shitty decisions in his past.  
Maybe that’s why he prefers studying with Yuu one on one instead of a group. Yuu is having to teach herself the basics too, history, spell work, math, literature, they aren’t exactly on the same page, but they are closer than he would prefer to admit.  
Riddle, bless him and his tenacious ways, kept his notes from all his grades. It’s binders and binders worth of material and even if they are slow at it, Riddle never says anything about how long the binder is gone from his bookshelf. He simply continues to offer help.  
Yuu gets the idea after she sees Riddle’s magicam and puts 2 and 2 together with Cater’s exam results.  
So, the next time they get together, she takes him to a side room where a broken radio is.  
“What’s this?” He asks, looking at the tools set off to the side.  
“I have an idea,” Yuu says, sitting on the floor. “I’m going to quiz you while you fix the radio.”  
“Huh?”  
“I have an idea, I think it’ll help, I just need you to trust me.”  
He shrugs his shoulders, rolls up his sleeves and starts answering questions as he pulls the panel off. The quiz is tomorrow and anything is better than nothing at this point.  
Professor Trein smiles at him a bit as he passes the quizzes back at the end of the period.  
“Well done Mr. Spade. Your studying is paying off well.”  
83. He had gotten an 83.  
“Dude!” Yuu jumps on his back, hugging him, “Awesome! It worked!”  
He knows the blush on his face isn’t pride or joy. Neither is the goofy grin. But if that’s what Yuu thinks when she sees it, she doesn’t need to know.  
If they dance together with that fixed radio and his hands linger a little too long on her hips or waist, he doesn’t think too hard on that either.  
He isn’t a very smart man, but he knows he is a happy one.
 
Ace Trappola
Ace will admit that he’s an asshole sometimes. He is self-aware enough and selfish enough to not care. But he isn’t a complete asshole, and really, he’s just preventing you from being stuck with another Overblot like what happened on Winter Break!  
That was the only reason he invited Yuu over. No other reasons.  
He of course does the polite thing and introduces you to this family, including his brother. He doesn’t dislike his brother, he’s actually pretty cool, but he’s aware that he is cooler than Ace. And smarter. And more handsome.  
He isn’t purposefully keeping Yuu away from him, but if it so happens that every time his brother is home that you two are out doing things, that’s just a weird coincidence.  
It’s sunset on the last day, and his family insisted on a cookout all together. They like Yuu a lot, and for the most part try and keep him out of trouble. Which meant lots of talking, family telling stories and comparing between the two of them, like they always do. It isn’t malicious, he knows that, but it hurts sometimes when his brother has a seven-year head start. It’s winding down now though, with his parents and brother going to bed already for work in the morning. They should have been, the train leaves early the next morning, but neither of them can sleep, so they are trying to wind down with cards. Ace always has a pack on him, but in his room he has multiple. He’s even nice enough to let Yuu pick the deck she wants.  
“You ready for tomorrow?” she asks, laying a card down.  
“Totally. I love my folks but being here just makes me itch to leave again.” he makes a pair, chuckling at her huff, “Besides my brother is...well he’s my brother, you know.”  
“I mean, he’s ok, but I much prefer hanging out with you.”  
It’s such a small thing that it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t. But damn if he’s face doesn’t twitch into a genuine smile. Prefers him. Yuu prefers him.  
“Ah, you gotta crush on me?” He teases, poking her cheek, “You got something you want to tell me?”  
“Oh, fuck off.” She snips, kicking his foot, “You got an ego that makes Vil look humble.”  
He can only laugh, muffling his delight into a pillow. He tucks the memory away with a breath, making another pair.
 
Rook Hunt
The gardens of Pomefiore aren’t as well-known as some of the other dorms, but they are beautiful, nonetheless. Carefully cultivated and trimmed, it has more of a nature tamed by man aesthetic, but it was still beautiful.  
Rook knows them better than most students, spending so much time amongst the trees, bushes and flowers to practice his hunting skills and photography. When Yuu asked him for pointers, he was more than happy to give her a hands-on lesson.  
“And that is how you achieve this effect!” He says, setting the glass off to the side.  
“Nice!” she nods, finishing the note she was writing. “That is so much easier than what I was picturing. I can’t thank you enough for this Rook, this will help so much with the commission that Crewel gave me. What got you into photography anyway?”  
“Having pictures of Roi De Poison and Monsieur Curiosity that nobody else has? Bliss! But also, I do so enjoy the thrill of the hunt. Photography gives me the means to shoot and not kill my target. Their beauty must live on until fate takes them. Or my arrow.”  
Yuu cannot help but chuckle a bit, figuring that was the case.  
“Vil told me a bit about the day you two met. It makes sense. He also said you started in SavannaClaw?”  
“I did. Transfering dorms was the best decision I have ever made!” He touches the leaves above him, the apple tree swaying a bit in the cool breeze. “Why do you think I switched dorms, Mon Trickster?”  
Yuu zips up the ghost camera into her bag, taking a moment to try and phase her words. The Rook that Vil described reminds her of herself here. Ambition with no direction. Goals of survival with no room for anything else. Of being so cautious and gentle with everything around, but the people aren’t with her. Even those that care for her bruise her, even when they don’t mean to.  
“I think...you got tired of your life feeling like a museum.” Rook cocks his head at her. “Before, you kept your hands behind your back, quietly observing, scrutinizing and praising the beauty around you but never interacting. I don’t know if you thought you didn’t deserve it or that you couldn’t have it, but I think you got tired of imagining what softness would feel like. I think you decided that you would rather be an active participant, in your life, even if it meant changing, however scary it is.”  
It is quiet behind her. Yuu secures the last of the props into the tote, still waiting.  
“Rook?”  
She doesn’t get a chance to turn around. His front thumps into her, arms wrapping around her shoulders.  
“Apologize Mon Ami. I was stunned by your wisdom un moment.” He whispers. She feels him take a deep breath into her shoulder, but he’s hat completely blocks him from her view. “You might be the closest yet.”  
“Huh?”  
“Nothing, nothing!” He jumps in front of her, grabbing the tote with a bright smile. “Let us return, Roi de Poison does hate one being late!”
“We are meeting Vil after this?” She asks, jogging to keep up his pace that’s more like a skip.  
“Of course! We have traveled much today. We must replenish with good food and drink!”  
He goes on to describe what is on the menu, but inside it is taking everything within him not to gather you up and take him home. Oh, Mon Trickster, you read him too easily. He will have to keep you close in the years to come to just keep himself safe, in whatever capacity needed. There is, after all, more than one way to be a lover.  
307 notes · View notes
oneforthemunny · 6 months ago
Text
summerween |modern!eddie munson x reader|
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt: eddie is itching to decorate for halloween. the only problem is, it's still summertime.
still on my fall shit, and still on my fluff shit. very fluffy and sweet for these two (i love them). short little fall ficlet. all fluff. language, that's really it. just fluff.
“It’s not even August.” You stare him down from your place behind the counter, arms crossed your white tank top, adding emphasis to your statement. It was hot, late July hot, too hot for Halloween decorations. 
“Getting started early this year, sweetheart.” Eddie grinned, flashing a dazzling smile that had your chest swelling, cheeks tingling with warm rushes of emotion. “Never too early to get started.” 
“This feels like too early.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Despite your protests and snide comments of how many weeks away October was, you still helped Eddie clean. Vacuum and mop, wipe down everything the way you always did before decorating. 
“Kids aren’t even back in school, and you want to decorate?” You lifted a brow, cringing at the thud of the totes collecting a cloud of dust in the air from the dusty storage unit they’d been homed in since last November. 
“Yeah, c’mon, it’s the most wonderful time of the year.” Eddie trilled dramatically, tearing the lid off the first box. A plethora of black and orange and purple figurines poked out, a waxy, plasticky scent following from the stored heat. 
“Besides, everyone’s started putting stuff out. I keep seeing it on Instagram, people are finding all this cool shit. I wanna get what we have out, and then I was thinking we could go shopping tonight. Or tomorrow, just dependin’ on when we get done.” Eddie rambled excitedly, pulling out the tangled garland, eyes meeting yours with a sickly sweet pleading gaze. 
You rolled your eyes, snatching the garland in dramatic irritation, sitting down on the couch to unravel it. “We’re putting all of this out today? What if I had other plans today?” You challenged, lifting a brow. You didn’t have any, of course, Eddie had already asked you that yesterday when he’d planned this.
“I’ll help you do them, baby. I promise. We don’t have to go shopping tomorrow if you don’t want to.” Eddie hummed sweetly, brown eyes rounding in the most adorable way towards you. “I just thought we’d go to Fort Wayne tomorrow. Take you shopping over there.” 
Your lips pursed, too stubborn to relent so easily, but melting under his affection the way you always did. “There will be a million fuckin’ kids there tomorrow, Ed, school starts back in a week.” 
“We can go first thing in the morning.” Eddie countered, proudly setting a plush ghost pillow next to the others. “Before it gets insane. I’ll wake up early for you.” He winked playfully. 
Your lips rolled, fighting back a grin, chin ducking towards the garland. “Yeah, right.” You muttered. “You’ll sleep ‘til noon.” 
“Nope. I’ll set twenty five alarms if I have to.” Eddie declared, unwrapping the glass figure carefully, wadding the paper back up. “You have my full consent to dump cold water on me if I don’t wake up after the third snooze. That’s what Wayne always did, and it always worked.” 
You snorted lightly, facade breaking and a grin taking over your scowl. “Cold water? Like in a Disney Channel movie?” You lifted a brow, a snarky tease still in your tone. 
Eddie grinned, dimples creasing deeply. “Yeah, I was a heavy sleeper. ‘Specially after I hit puberty, ya know? I think it was my seventh or eighth grade summer, I started playing Neverwinter Nights and would stay up all night. Then when school started, I didn’t stop, and I’d stay up the whole night and Wayne would be so pissed at me in the morning.” He shook his head lightly. 
“One morning I wouldn’t get up, and I thought he’d finally just left me, was letting me stay home, and he came back, like, five minutes later with this popcorn bowl of ice water and dumped it on me.” Eddie snorted in laughter. 
You barked out a laugh, an edge to your giggle that had Eddie blushing, his own laughter bubbling thick in his chest. “So that’s how he got you to get up?” 
“Worked like a charm.” Eddie nodded, a half grin pulling at his lips. 
“Good to know.” You lifted your brow, lips curled in a devious little grin. Eddie’s knees weakened at the sight. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you sleep through my cousin’s gender reveal.” 
Eddie rolled his eyes lightly. “Baby, that was- c’mon, even you agreed that it was insane that they had it at ten in the morning. Who has a party that early?” 
“Parents, Eddie.” You huffed. “Adults.” 
“Alright.” Eddie shook his head, trying to diffuse a fight he could sense was looming. “Hey, look, I forgot you got this.” He pulled the bright pink ceramic ghost out of the tub. 
“Oh, I forgot about that.” Your face lit up, pulling the final knot loose of the garland’s chords. “Put her on the shelf- no, on the other side, Eddie.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance, nodding harshly towards the empty shelf on the TV stand. 
Eddie flicked on the switch, the dim bulb fluttering to life before sticking it on the shelf, proudly. Normally, he thought pink decor- especially Halloween- killed the vibe. It was supposed to be scary and dark and gloomy and moody, not pastel. Until he met you. Then pastel pinks, oranges, purples, all made their way into his dark and gorey decor. Happy, cute ghosts with his grim reapers and skulls. 
“Did you get this at Target?” Eddie pushed the ghost so it was center, spine straightening as he stood. 
“Mm, I think so.” You hummed, hooking your foot on the edge of the tote, sliding it closer to you. “Maybe Home Goods.” 
“I think they have that huge Home Goods in Fort Wayne, don’t they? We could go there tomorrow. Look for more.” Eddie slid beside you, throwing a hand over your waist, squeezing your hip gently just to feel you squirm. His lips pressed to your jaw, soft and pillowy, leaving a burning heat of excitement in their wake. 
“Fine,” You relented, melting into his affection, letting him pull you into him victoriously. “But I want to go to Anthropologie too. I want to see if they have those cute witch glasses I saw.” 
“Yeah, we can do that. We’ll hit the mall first then Home Goods.” Eddie muttered, nose nuzzling against your cheek. 
“I think they’d be so cute on the bar cart, don’t you?” You hummed, nodding towards the tiny gold bar cart in the corner of the kitchen. 
A new edition to the apartment. Eddie had searched high and low, finally found the one you wanted on Facebook Market and drove all the way to Muncie to get it. You had been so excited when he showed it to you, beaming in a way that was rare but felt exhilarating to be the reason for it. Right now, it was donning a tequila theme, one you saw on Pinterest and had to match. 
“Yeah that would be. You know, Gareth used to date this girl, Ayesha, and she always got this wine called Witches Brew. It had a cool lookin’ label on it, that would be cool to add to it too.” Eddie tucked his chin down to look at you. 
“Ooh, that would be cool.” Your eyes lit up, just enough to have Eddie’s chest swelling with pride. “Isn’t there a Total Wine near the exit? We can stop and look there.” 
“Sounds like a date to me, baby.” Eddie squeezed you closer to his chest, fingers barely brushing your sides so you squirmed. He paused for a moment. “Are you sure you’re ok with me putting this up? I-I can wait if you really don’t want me to, I just, I’m just excited ya know-” 
“-I know.” You turned, shifting in his arms to look at him. “It’s fine.” You sighed dramatically, a teasing in your tone. 
“At least if we get it up now, we can see what we need to add. Get it before it sells out.” You muttered, spinning the tiny fake spell book in your hands. Eddie grinned, eyes shining with excitement. 
“But,” You lifted a finger, face dropping back to something serious. “Not outside yet. Only inside.” You pointed your nail at him threateningly. “Don’t want the neighbors to think we’re total freaks.” Eddie snorted, arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer to his chest so you were chest to chest, nearly nose to nose. “Please, a little late for that, babe.” Eddie snorted loudly. “They already know we're total freaks, what do you mean? They’ve definitely heard us being total freaks before- oof!” You cut him off, smacking him with a bat shaped pillow.
295 notes · View notes
redsrooftopprincess · 3 months ago
Note
hey so how do you think Mikey’s brothers would deal with him being the first to get a girlfriend and she’s a human one at that. Cuz they clearly never thought any of them would find someone and it’s their baby brother who did the miracle of finding someone? 😂
Hi there! I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but you're here so I assume you want my Mikey. Hope this is okay. 😅
Turned Tables
Michaelangelo x gn!Reader
Warnings: Queerphobia
Tumblr media
4am and it's last call in The Village.
He's moving swiftly over rooftops, his usual route, a master of speed and momentum, moving through the city like water. He loves it. The rush. The flow. Moving around obstacles like they mean nothing. He is a turtle after all. Water is kind of his jam.
But not tonight. Tonight the heartbeat pounding in his ears has nothing to do with the thrill of movement. Tonight he's wearing his hoodie with the hood up. Tonight they're with him. And if he's spotted, there will be problems.
There have been whispers about suspicious gang movement in the area, and Leo wants to make sure that certain alliances aren't being made. They usually don't come out here. They have designated areas of the city to cover every night. It's smarter to stick to the same areas so that anything out of place will be more noticable. Which means tonight his bros were on his turf, and that scared the shit out of him.
He follows his brothers over storage sheds and HVAC units, keeping an eye out for anything out of place, occasionally glancing down into the streets below, knowing you'll be heading home after the party. Even if he can't say "hi" tonight, it's worth it just to look at you, even if just for a second. You're so damn pretty.
"Hey! Back off, incel!" the shout comes from the street below and he freezes. His brothers manage to get three buildings away before they notice he's missing.
By the time they make it back to the rooftop where he left them behind, he's already put himself, openly, between a group of four drunk bros, and several sparkly queers.
You and your crew had been on your way home from a party. Ironically enough, you'd just been missing your bright-eyed boyfriend, but understood when he said his brother needed the whole team tonight. You knew the score when this whole thing started. Superheroes gotta superhero.
And damn if he doesn't look good doing it.
Hood still up he glares at them, a low growl backing his words, "Wrong neighborhood, my dudes." Mike says evenly.
The look on the drunk bros faces was enough to know they were thinking maybe they'd had too much.
"Fuck it. Not worth it anyway. Fucking queers."
The dude-bros stumble off and Mike turns to face his very relieved friends. "You guys okay?" He says.
"Yes, thank you, papí," says a Drag Queen in red sequins, she walks up and gives him a kiss, leaving red glitter lipstick on his cheek.
"You know I got you, mamí," Mike says brightly, with a wink, making no effort to wipe the lipstick away. At this point they're most likely watching everything from the rooftop, so it didn't matter anymore.
"We missed you at the party," you say with a smile.
His gaze falls on you and his showman smile morphs into something softer. "Hey, Angel."
You look back at your friends.
"Let me guess," says a man wearing gold shorts and matching cuffs/collar, "you'll catch up?"
You grin and they sigh dramatically, teasing you, as they hug Mike goodbye, thanking him and insisting he show up at the next party.
You step forward and grab his mask tails, pulling him down into a kiss. Usually it's enough to melt the tension away. Not tonight. You pull back and look at him curiously before your gaze moves past him and you see black shadows cut out against the light polluted sky. You meet his eyes again and you can see the underlying panic.
"They were gonna to find out eventually," you say, quietly.
He presses his forehead to yours, "I know. I just..." He sighs.
"I know..." You say, touching his face gently. He'd told you about his brothers, and you understand their need for secrecy, you all do. He'd told you if they ever found out, there was a chance they would refuse to let him see you. Keep him from you completely. But there is no way in hell you're letting him go. You'll fight his big bad brothers yourself if you have to. "Go talk to them. Maybe it'll help to know there are people who aren't afraid." You twist the mask's tail around your fingers and tug, pulling him out of his own head, "Do you want me to come with?"
He shakes his head, "I gotta do this alone. Explain some things. But I think you meeting them at this point is unavoidable." he smirks down at you. You've been asking to meet his family. You haven't said anything, but all the sneaking around is starting to get to you.
He's quiet for a few moments, and shifts his weight, stalling. He must be really scared. "Now or never, Sunshine," you say, tugging on his mask tail again. He gives you a nervous smile and kisses you again, sweetly, before walking across the street backwards, just to look at you a little longer.
When he makes it to the alley, he looks at the ladder to the fire escape and sighs. There's a chance this could go well... right?
When he reaches the roof, they're all standing there, staring at him. Mike swallows. "Hey... So yeah, couple things..." He hauls himself over the edge of the building and stands to look up at his eldest brother, arms crossed, waiting. "So... that's Y/N," he says, as if reciting a list, "and those are my friends..." he gestures a bit further, "and -"
"Parties?" Leo's even voice cuts through the air as sharply as the blades on his back.
Mike glances at Donnie and Raph who look at him with a full spectrum of emotion, from betrayal to hope.
"How long has this been going on?"
"Just... A few years."
"Years!?" If Leo had eyebrows, they would have disappeared into his hair... if he also had hair.
"Leo -" Mike tries.
"Years. Parties. For years."
"Leo, if you'd just -"
"People know about us, Mikey. A lot of people. Don't you think that's kind of a big deal? You're putting everyone in danger here. If just one person -"
"Leo they're queer." Mike interrupts solidly. That shut him up. Leo stares at his brother, taken entirely off guard. "If anyone is used to having to hide their and everyone else's identities for fear of literal murder it's them. We protect our people."
"... We?" Raph asks after a moment.
Mikey gives him a look, "I'm a turtle attracted to humans, what would you call it?"
That shut all of them up, and Mike gives them a moment for that paradigm shift.
"Anyway, yeah, I've been doing a quick run through The Village before coming home every night, just to keep an eye on things."
"That's why you've been coming home late? I thought you were just smoking out somewhere." Raph says.
"That's because that's what I wanted you to think," Mike replies. Duh.
"And your friend? How long has that been going on?"
"We're more than friends," Mike shoots back immediately, a fire in his eyes as they meet his eldest brother's. They could come for him, he was used to it. Not you. His brothers eyes widen and they look at each other before landing back on him, "and we've been together for six months, two weeks, and five days," he checks his watch, "Six days. You want the hours, minutes, and seconds or are we done?" He says.
He pushes past Leo, and makes it almost to the edge of the rooftop before hears Donnie speak softly behind him. "... why would you keep this from us?"
Mike sighs, coming to a stop, "Because... I don't know..." He turns around, "I guess I was afraid you'd try and take it away," He looks at Leo almost defiantly. Raph smirks, kinda proud. "Or maybe... that they'd like you more than me." He looks down at you with a sigh, having rejoined your friends. You're laughing. It's his favorite sound in the universe.
Turning around, you catch him watching over you like a guardian angel turtle. You proceed to blow several kisses his way using each hand, before making a heart with them and spinning back around. The last six months have been the best of your life.
Mike can't help but smile, his brothers look on in awe as Michaelangelo's more-than-friend skips on down the sidewalk.
"Look," Mike says, his eyes returning to his brothers, "I'm safe. You're safe. They're safe." He assures, gesturing in each direction in turn, "We're a pretty tight group, and there's a protocol," he looks at Leo pointedly again, "that we follow with new people before anyone even learns I exist. I've saved the sequined ass of just about everybody in this neighborhood. They know me here. We're safe here... ish, obviously."
They're all speechless.
"I don't like this, Mikey." Leo says after a moment.
"You don't have to like it, you just have to accept it," Mike says without any question in his voice.
Leo sighs rubbing his forehead, "Well, at this point I suppose it's too late for damage control." He looks back at Mike, proud and resolute. This Michaelangelo has only made a handful of appearances in their lives, but Leo knew what it meant. He wasn't backing down. This decision had been carefully thought out and every angle considered before it was made. Mikey may play the fool, but he's far from it. A gifted strategist and the best of them at thinking on his feet, if he says it's safe, it is.
Leo sighs again, "Okay," he says, and Mikey can finally breathe again, "but we all need to be in on these protocols, and Don should look over security."
.....
He's just gotten back from his nightly run, and came home smelling like strawberry daiquiris and you... He may have stopped for a minute.
He's just stripping off his gear to hit the shower when Raph appears in his doorway, knocking softly. "Uh hey," he starts, uncomfortable, "You got a sec?"
Mikey tosses one of his hand wraps into the basket in the corner and starts unraveling the other one, a small burst of glitter explodes into the air with the first layer of cloth. Mike snorts and swats it out of the air. "Sure, bro. Sup?"
"I just..." He struggles, looking at the floor, trying to find the words. He's embarrassed he even wants to ask, but he has to know. There's a chance now... A real chance at meeting real people... maybe... maybe even a chance at... "What's it like?" He asks, looking up at Mikey.
"Gonna have to be a bit more specific," his other hand wrap joins the first.
"Yeah. No. Stupid. Sorry," he laughs nervously, shaking his head and looking at the floor. His hands are actually shaking, he clenches them into fists.
"You okay, bro?" Mike asks, changing tone and pausing to look at his older brother, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he assures, "I, uh..." He sighs and takes a deep breath, psyching himself up. "What's it like... being with someone who isn't scared of you...? Who actually wants you there?" He can't even say the word. He feels stupid for needing to know this damn badly, but he needs to know that it's real. Possible.
A slow smile blooms on Mike's face, his biggest brother would the one to ask. When they played as kids, he's the one that used to ride off into the sunset with the girl. White (well, green) Knight was his default, and a lot of where the anger in him came from as a kid. He had no choice but to live his life watching the world get their happy ever afters, until he died, alone, at the end of a blade. Michaelangelo sees something in Raph's eyes he hasn't seen in a long time. It's faint, and swimming in doubt, but definitely there: Hope.
He takes a breath, crossing his arms over his chest, "Well... It's kinda like..." He pauses, thinking, "Do you remember that old rusted pipe we used to skate on when we were kids?"
"The one that almost killed us? Yeah."
Twelve years old and Donnie had just souped up Mike's board and Raph's skates with some "prototypes." They were supposed to stick to the tunnels near the lair to test them out, but the second they stepped out, Mike made a beeline for the pipe.
The prototypes worked well. Too well. The speed and weight were too much for the rusted metal and it crumbled beneath them, sending them careening down a series of pipes and tunnels with no idea where they were going to end up, or what state they'd be in when they got there.
They skated as best they could, trying to stay on their feet, or even their shells, but everything was moving too fast and there were too many twists and turns. They couldn't keep track of where they were or where they were going, at one point some unidentified substances were involved, and at times it felt as though they would break apart.
When they finally emerged, battered and bruised in an unfamiliar tunnel a little over a mile away, they just sat there for several long moments, stunned.
When they finally met each other's eyes... they lost it. Laughing hysterically with tears streaming down their faces, they could barely feel the sting of cuts or the ache of bruises.
It was terrifying and exhilarating, and at more than one point they thought they were for sure going to die. It had been the most incredible experience of their young lives. They promised only ever to do that once (it 100% should have killed them), but both of them remember, to this day, exactly where that pipe is, just in case they ever want another go.
"It's like that," Mike says, tossing his belt in the corner and walking past Raph to grab a shower.
...
The next evening, before patrol, he receives a visit from a rather concerned looking Donatello. He doesn't bother knocking, but walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.
Don spins around to look at him, and raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm concerned."
Michaelangelo looks up once he's finished pulling up his shorts. "Okay...?"
"Have you and Y/N had sex? Of any kind, I mean."
"Dude."
"I'm serious," and he meant it. He was wearing his serious face. "Any exchange of fluids beyond kissing?"
Mikey looks at him, Donnie is really, actually worried, and now so is he, "Yeah... why?"
"How often?"
"Dude."
"At least... tell me your wore protection."
"I'm not exactly worried about them getting pregnant, so no."
"Are you worried about them getting regular injections of your DNA?"
This made Mikey pause, why would he... Oh, Gods... He looks up at Donnie, eyes wide and terrified. "Shit, I didn't even think..." He sits down on his pillow pile, thoroughly rocked. His hands cover his face as the possibilities overwhelm him. Mike looks up at his brother with pleading eyes, "are they gonna be okay...? They're gonna be okay, right?"
"I don't know... but I'm going to need a few hair follicles for testing."
"Done," he says quickly, snatching a small baggie from his nightstand and shoving it in his pocket.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I really am a fucking idiot.
Michaelangelo throws on his gear as fast as he can, booking it out of the lair.
He's back in less that 45 minutes
The next few hours are spent with him panic pacing, while Donnie is running tests. Finally, he straightens from over the microscope, one last visual check to confirm what his readouts were saying, and Mike stops, waiting for whatever news comes next.
"Nothing, they're clean. No mutagen detected." Don turns to smile at his brother.
"Fuck, me..." He sighs heavily, breathing hard. The rush of relief makes Michaelangelo so dizzy he has to reach out and catch himself on the wall. Even so, this is definitely something the two of you need to talk about, just in case.
"I'll want to check in periodically, just to make sure it stays that way, but things should be safe enough for now." He pauses and looks uncomfortable for a moment. Emotions are tough for Donnie. They've never made much sense to him, especially when expressing them to others. He knows what they feel like inside his head, but he's never been entirely sure what to do with them. Like he was never given the manual. Even so, he knows that this is important. "Hey, so, um... the probability of something like this happening... one of us actually finding someone, is... Astronomical... Now it’s... slightly less so," he says, thoughtfully, with a soft smile, "so thanks for that."
.....
The eldest of his brothers finally shows up after almost four days. He stands in the open doorway, chagrined, and knocks on the frame.
"Hey, Mike." Leonardo says, taking a few steps into the room.
Michaelangelo looks up from what he's doing and stands, expecting another argument against all of this. He's ready.
"I'd like to apologize."
Okay, he wasn't ready for that.
"I was caught off-guard, and I reacted poorly," he says, "I was worried. I still am. This whole… thing scares the hell out of me. It means there are more pieces on the board, more people to keep safe."
Leo sighs, "It also means that maybe... there can be something more than… this. And I... I don't know if it's worth it yet, the risk, to us or them. I wish I did. This is new... territory for me. I'm used to understanding how things are supposed to work, at least when it comes to us, but this..."
"Hey," Mike says, interrupting Leo's word vomit. Leo tended to keep things pretty close to the vest, even among the five of them, so it didn't happen often, but big things. Important things. Emotional things, could send him spinning out until someone stops him, or he tornados himself into a panic attack.
Leo takes a deep breath, as Mike grins, "How 'bout you let me teach you a couple things, for once."
He smiles back at his youngest brother, chuckling nervously, "Thanks. I would actually really appreciate that." Leo steps further into the room now that things seem settled between them, and pulls a pillow from the pile to sit on, settling in. He dismissed his brothers explanations earlier, he owed it to him to listen now. "So... what are they like?'"
Michaelangelo spends a good amount of time telling him about you, his friends, and how this whole thing got started. By the end, Leo isn't exactly more comfortable about the situation, but he sees the potential, and despite himself, he's just a little excited.
.....
At this point he's pretty sure his brothers are cool with everything. Less cool in one particular case, but he's working on Leo. Michaelangelo's father, however, is an entirely different story.
Leo had told him that morning, after they'd gotten back, and for two days he remained in silent meditation. By the time he emerged on day three, Michaelangelo was afraid to even be in the same room as him.
He knows this is a big deal. He knows his dad has been meditating on his own feelings on the matter and the best way to approach them with his youngest, and this could either go really, really well, or blow up in his face, but if there's one thing he knows about the old rat... he can't be avoided. Not forever.
The fated knock comes on day five.
"Hey," Leo says, "dad wants to talk to you."
Mike takes a deep breath and heads down to his father's room.
"Have a seat, Michaelangelo," he says, gesturing to the empty cushion across from him. There is a low table before him with a chipped pot and two steaming cups of tea.
Mike walks into the room. He doesn't seem mad, but that doesn't mean anything. His dad is great at playing it cool. He sits across from Splinter, nervously.
His father asks for the whole story, and listens patiently as Mikey tells him everything. How saving a drag queen one night led to his being accepted and wanted by a whole group of people. Friends that have helped him in more ways than he can count. Definitely more ways than he could ever help them. And you. He tells his dad about you. How amazing you are, how kind and patient, and something he hasn't even told you yet: just how stupid in love with you he really is.
It takes hours.
When Mikey is finished, His father is quiet for a long time, processing everything. He'd received some of the story from Leonardo, and was fitting the new information into the appropriate places, while carefully considering the situation. Mike tries not to panic.
"I'm proud of you, Michaelangelo," he says, finally. Mike's head shoots up from staring into his tea cup to meet his father's eyes.
Okay, what?
"Not only have you done all things possible to ensure the care and safety of both your new friends and our family, but you had the courage to look for something beyond what we know to be safe. You had the courage to try. All that done on your own. And while next time," his father gives him a look, "something like this comes up, I would much rather you come to me first," he pauses to ensure the message sinks in, "I understand why you did not, and you have my deepest apologies for that." The old master bows his head, penitently, across the table.
A half-laugh escapes Mikey, tears of relief stinging his eyes. He was ready to fight for you. In fact, since this whole thing started he's basically been thinking about nothing but what the hell he's going to tell his dad. The last five nights, he's held you a little tighter, a little longer. Not to say goodbye, he'd walk away from them if he had to, if they made him choose. You're too important. But he didn't want to, and now he doesn't have to, and sweet relief pours, fizzing, through his veins
"Really?" Mike asks softly, it wasn't often he got rewarded for disobeying orders, especially when the reward was something this big. You. Holy shit they were letting him keep you. He wipes at his eyes as his father smiles, "I uh... thanks Dad." He says, unsure whether he's laughing or crying.
"I feel as though a new chapter of our lives is beginning, thanks to you," his smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes, "and I look forward to seeing where the tale will take us."
.....
The next morning, Leo, Don, and Raph are sitting around the kitchen table after patrol, when Mike storms in with a purpose.
He slaps a neon green paper down in the middle of the table for the three of them. It's a flyer for a party, happening at Mike's usual spot, tomorrow night.
They look at the flyer, and then each other, before their gazes turn to their father, standing in the doorway with a steaming cup of tea. Four adult turtles, nearly pushing 30, silently begging their dad for permission.
There is a subtle smile under his whiskers as he takes a sip of his tea, "Be back before sunrise," he says, and his smile widens as he sees his children light up with the promise of a new adventure.
They'll panic later, when the reality sets in that they are about to meet a large group of people and they have no idea what they're doing (Leo may already be screaming internally), but for now they're excited, and looking forward to tomorrow.
....
Tag list
@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins
75 notes · View notes
hanmaitani · 5 months ago
Text
Survivor's Guilt
PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 1.5K GENRE - Angst SYNOPSIS - it never gets better just easier. what didn't kill me never made me stronger sometimes it just made me wish it would have. cause i'm not a fighter i haven't been for a long time. the mourning and missing turned into survivor's guilt when i started moving on too.
PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART
Tumblr media
It had been three months since Tooru left you.
You’d only seen him in person in passing. Had had less conversations with him than fingers on one hand.
You almost didn’t mind it.
There was the one time that he pretended like you weren’t even there, if he’d actually seen you or not you didn’t know but he’d made sure to call a greeting to everyone except you.
That one stung.
Three months.
It wasn’t that you didn’t care about him anymore. More like trying to convince yourself that he wasn’t you problem anymore.
You could get on without him. You could. You’d done it. Pulled yourself off the bottom of the pit he’d dropped you into and crawled your way out. Quickly, throwing yourself full swing back into you life.
This time without him.
You were currently with none other than the three best friends of the man you were trying to forget the existence of.
The three men that you’d spent so much of your time with for years now.
“So what’s been going on with you?” Makki asked as he sat easily next to you on top of your desk. The one you'd put together on your own not that long ago.
Mattsun was poking through the stack of boxes to your left, ones that you'd just pulled out of storage, trying to downsize the unit you'd had to get. Iwa stared into your empty fridge with disappointment.
Your apartment was a mess, really, the time to unpack the new boxes having never really come about. Mostly from your insistence of sleeping more than you'd needed to before.
“You any better?” Makki asked sincerely, throwing an arm around you as he tugged you closer, a familiar gesture.
You sighed, scrunching your nose up at the question. “It’s not better,” you leaned against Makki, your head falling on his shoulder as you watched Mattsun pick open a box, “but it’s easier I think.” Mattsun tilted his head at you, as Makki hummed in acknowledgement.
“We could still kick his ass?” Mattsun suggested as he came to stand in front of you. He smiled lightly but you shook your head in disagreement. “You’ve got bruises, you know.” He poked at a bruise on your thigh and you swatted his hand away.
“Slipped when I was moving my dresser.” You mumbled, fingers tracing the biggest of many bruises, another thing you'd convinced yourself that you could do on your own.
“Should have asked for help.” Iwa chastised. “And you need to buy food.”
“I don’t have time,” you mumbled. “I didn’t wanna bug you guys, I’m sure he needed you more.”
Makki tapped your head in disappointment. “You know what they say.” He chuckled, giving you another squeeze as he looked at your partially-unpacked apartment. “Time heals all wounds.”
You scoffed and shook your head. “No,” you whispered, ignoring the way they looked at you, sadness tinting their vision of you. You pulled one of your knees up to your chest, bracing your heel on the desk to keep it there as you wrapped your arms around it. “It doesn’t really heal it. It isn’t healed. Just sometimes I forget how much it hurt at first. And as time goes on I forget more often.”
Mattsun moved to sit on the other side of you, throwing an arm over your shoulders on top of Makki’s. “All the cliches kind of suck.” He hummed in acknowledgement and watched as you nodded your agreement. You stopped leaning on Makki and set your chin on top of your knee as Iwa turned his attention fully to the rest of the group. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that.”
You hated that one most of all.
Mattsun was poking into a box from next to him on your desk, showing Makki some of your desk decorations that you hadn’t put out yet as he came across them.
He meant no harm bringing it up.
But what didn’t kill you, it didn’t make me stronger. It just made you wish it would have.
You’d spent days in bed, trying to cope with the loss. You hadn’t even cried at first. Just laid there.
You didn't text him. Not really, not like the first time he'd left. You'd tried to avoid it.
But you wanted to so much.
To beg more. To yell more. To cry to him. To tell him you still loved him more than anything.
You wanted the hugs that he used to give that you always went to when you felt like you needed to breathe again. You’d used to drive anywhere, 30 minutes out of your way, just to get a hug.
You wanted to fight with him, to fight for him. For the both of you.
But you seemed to have lost your fight.
You tried. Tried to find the girl that you used to be. The one that bared her teeth and bit remarks out. That got what she wanted because she could fight for it. The fighter.
You weren’t her anymore. You’d stopped being her slowly. Sinking down into the girl that let Tooru talk you into everything. That didn’t argue with him because she was afraid to lose him. You weren’t a fighter like that anymore. Not with him.
Iwa caught your attention, pulling you back from your mini zone-out and back to the three boys who were there to pick up a borrowed vacuum and to check in on you.
“Y/n?” he whispered, softly asking for your attention. You hummed and looked up at him, tilting your head just enough to lock eyes with him. You could see Makki and Mattsun watching you carefully from either side of you. “Are you alright?”
No, of course I’m not.
You wanted to scream it. To cry about how much it hurt to be mourning a relationship you thought was going to be the rest of your life. To be dropped in what was supposedly a split second decision. What it felt like to feel like you’d never meant anything to Tooru.
“I’m just tired, Haji,” you responded, pushing out a small smile. Iwa didn’t look convinced by your lie so you continued on. “Just working a lot to make sure I can afford the rent on my own. Rebuilding my savings after dropping it all on a deposit.” You knew all of them were looking at you concerned but you just smiled, squinting your eyes at them to make it cover your whole face, a trick you'd learned. “I’m alright, just tired. Honestly.” You lied straight through your teeth.
The three of them didn’t stay for long. They’d helped you unpack a box. Mostly because you would take something out of Makki and Mattsun’s nosy hands and set it in a spot you deemed appropriate.
It was nice to laugh with them again. To have a moment not alone.
But now?
You laid on your couch and stared at the ceiling of your apartment. Your phone was next to your head, abandoned from where you’d been scrolling social media just minutes prior.
You were alone again and it was like it all just came creeping back. They’d made you talk about Tooru. You had tried your best to avoid the subject. You didn’t even know if you cared anymore.
Well, you knew that you cared that he left.
But was it that Tooru was gone?
Or was it how he left?
You’d heard a little about how he’d been doing. He’d had a couple issues with his car, with money. You’d laughed out of spite to yourself when you’d heard. Served him right. You’d struggled and pulled yourself out of the hole he’d thrown you in.
You’d survived the wreckage that your relationship became.
But you couldn’t tell if you missed him or just having someone.
You’d known, the second you saw him that he would break your heart. That he would never be yours, not really.
You’d been grieving the loss of him. The loss of the constant he’d forced you to let him be.
When had you stopped thinking about him all the time?
There was a tightness that wound up into your throat. A feeling of guilt gnawing away at your bones.
Your phone lit up, a message from a a dating app you’d drunkenly downloaded and made a profile for a week prior.
You swallowed a lump in your throat.
How could you have downloaded that?
Were you really trying to move on? Without even thinking how he would feel?
The sinking feeling in your gut started to eat its way up your throat and pooled water across your lash line. The guilt of everything freezing you.
What were you doing?
Did he care?
Did you even care if he did care?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n a/n thanks for coming to the free therapy of fictionalizing my irl breakup experiences. yes this actually happened. partially based on "Good Grief" by Leanna Firestone
TAGLIST - OPEN
@all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @winniethepooh-lover
25 notes · View notes
sirfrogsworth · 1 year ago
Text
Wishlist Haul
All I asked for were pants, and those are coming Saturday. But you all came through in a big way with my wishlist and helped me solve some problems that have really been bugging me lately.
One of my biggest current issues is my decision to use my M1 MacBook Air as my main computer until I can move my PC upstairs at some distant time in the future. Which means I need to ask a lot more of it. And it is capable, as these Apple Silicon devices are amazing and very zippy, but I only got 256 GB of storage because I thought this would just be a secondary computer while I was taking care of my dad.
So I need storage. And if you do photography and use Lightroom, you know you need *fast* storage. In the days of spinny disc drives, going back and forth between images was maddeningly slow. I already hate the process of culling photos and picking the best ones. And sometimes you'd need to find 5 winners out of a few hundred. And when it took 3 seconds to switch between every photo, I wanted to die. And honestly, it could still be better.
But one of the best solutions is a super fast SSD. Which I had. I bought it right before my parents got especially ill and was planning to install it in my PC. But my priorities changed and I just never found the energy.
The problem is that was an internal NVME SSD. I needed it to be external.
Which is where this little thingie comes in.
Tumblr media
This is an NVME enclosure, and if you are looking for cheap, fast external storage, this is so much better than those external SSDs they overcharge for. For $200 they give you a 2TB drive that can read about 2000 MB per second. Or you can get a 2TB NVME and this enclosure for the same price and get 3000 MB per second. Not only that, but it is upgradeable. In a year when 4TB is $100, you can plop that in. And the Mac's Thunderbolt 4 has a max speed of around 5000 MB/s, so there is room to improve there as well. Though sometimes advertised speeds are not reality speeds.
The only thing you need to be aware of is these drives run hot. You're going to think there is something wrong with them. Like, they top out at 90C. Which is nearly 200 degrees in freedom units.
I wanted a convenient way to mount my drive, but I didn't want 200 degrees on the back of my screen, so... MAGNETS!
Tumblr media
And I can stack a few more if that section starts feeling too hot.
Tumblr media
So, I have that problem solved. I can now use this as my main computer and work on my photography.
Next up... fashion!
Tumblr media
I'm going out more and I want to look a little more presentable. I thought these two tone shirts looked a little more fashionable. And they are very comfortable too. I have a red one that I think I'm going to wear on my trip. I know you can't see the two tone well in the picture, so here is the product photo of the red one.
Tumblr media
Next problem?
Well, it's maybe not a problem so much as something cool I wanted. A black light!
Tumblr media
My mom had all of this uranium glass and I had no idea my salt shaker was marginally radioactive all these years. I really wanted to take a proper photo of some of the glass before it all gets sold at auction. So this should be a fun experiment.
I will say, if you don't have uranium glass, don't get a black light. You will want to burn your house down. It does not matter how clean you think you got something... you didn't clean it enough. And I have all of this dry flaky skin on my feet. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't bother me. You can't even really see it unless you look really close. But when I shined the light on my feet they looked like they had some undocumented disease. I will not be sharing a photo of that.
But the depression glass, that's super neat.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Some proper photos coming soon I hope. Maybe after my trip.
Next problem!
My key fob. This thing is a piece of shit.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Even if it looks cool under a black light, it is THE WORST.
It's cheap plastic, it takes a stupid watch battery, the symbols on the buttons all wore off. And all of that I could handle, but for some reason this fob has an effective range of about 2 feet. I literally have to be standing next to the door before it will work.
I had a black fob that worked much better, only the plastic casing was falling apart. But I taped it up as best I could and hoped it would not fall apart. Then I went to get my tires changed and they needed the fob to do some special reset of the pressure sensors and the battery died before they could. I went home to try and change the battery, and the entire thing basically disintegrated on me.
The inside looks like this.
Tumblr media
The battery retention contact is held on by a tiny dab of solder. And if you pull the battery up even a little, it snaps off. And that's what happened. And to make matters worse, the rubber buttons were falling apart and the unlock button just... fell off.
So I was either stuck with the 2 foot range green one or I needed a new fob. Thankfully, they are only 20 bucks for 2 on Amazon. Unfortunately you need a dealer or an auto locksmith to program them. The lowest quote was $100 for about 5 minutes of work. The dealer actually wanted to sell me the fob as well, which they quoted as $150 for ONE. Same cheap plastic piece of shit and everything.
So, I got all of the parts from the broken fob and I hot glued that battery contact back into place and I transplanted that into a shiny new casing.
Tumblr media
Works just like new. The buttons feel much better, I can actually see the symbols, and it has a range of at least 100 feet. And that hot glue isn't going anywhere. Changing the battery might be an issue, but these lasted several years.
Next problem!
An intervalometer is a fancy shutter button for a camera that allows very long exposures. It is detached from the camera so you don't shake anything and it needs a backlit screen because if you are using it, you are most likely in the dark.
My intervalometer is about 12 years old and uses another dreaded watch battery. And the backlight on the screen seems to be dead. So it is pretty much useless.
But look at this!
Tumblr media
The light even works in the... well, light! And it takes normal batteries. Seriously, watch batteries need to stay in watches.
I don't know if I will get to take a long exposure in Florida, but I want to have this with me in case I do.
Next problem!
This one I actually solved on my own. But I found these stainless iron (yes, iron!) shims and I covered them with black tape and now all of my most used kitchen items never take up counter space.
Tumblr media
Yes, I use magnets and hot glue to solve most of my problems.
Next problem!
My garage door is not very smart. And the remote control for it is huge and does not fit in my man purse.
So I downsized the remote.
Tumblr media
But I wanted to fix the non-smart thing as well. A while back my brother got into my garage without me knowing. He must have taken a remote of his own. And I really don't feel like figuring out how to change the frequency, so I now have a sensor that lets me know when the door is open with a phone notification. Beyond that, I can open or close the door from my smartphone from anywhere. And I can give access to anyone with a smartphone in case of an emergency.
I will say, this company is really paranoid about people being crushed by garage doors. The instructions tell you to put up this sign in your garage...
Tumblr media
And if you use the app to close the door, you get a light show with annoying beeping...
And I know that these accidents happen in real life. But whenever I think about how that could actually happen, all I can imagine is that scene in Austin Powers...
Tumblr media
In any case, I am really glad I have this now. And I also like that if I forget to close the garage door, I can check the app and not have to get up to do it.
OH! I almost forgot. If I want, I can have Amazon place packages inside my garage.
Next problem!
What in the heck do I need galvanized steel plates for?
Tumblr media
In product photography you need a diffusion panel called a scrim. If you try to buy one of these already made, they are hundreds of dollars. They are mostly made for movie productions, and those items always have inflated costs.
So most product photographers make their own out of tracing paper or a special plastic called Translum. It's $80 per roll, but lasts forever. I used to hang my scrims from the ceiling. But you can't really angle or move them, so you have to move the object you are photographing instead. Which is just a backwards way to work. So I invented my own scrims with two strips of very thin wood, metal chip clips, these little plastic feet that held up plexiglass barriers during COVID. And to weigh everything down... steel plates.
This is version 1.0 where I glued the plastic rather than affixing it with the chip clips.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The clips work much better and allow me to put different weights of plastic on, or even double plastic, for more or less diffusion. And I ended up not needing that board at the bottom which allows me to curve it as well.
Tumblr media
And these scrims let me take this photo...
Tumblr media
It's called graduated lighting and it makes things look neat.
I also got a backpack for my trip and shorts, but I am going to forego an explanation of those.
To all that helped, thank you so much. I hope you can see I am putting everything to good use.
72 notes · View notes
vodika-vibes · 1 year ago
Text
More than Friends
Pairing: Tup x Reader
Word Count: 1643
Warning: Tooth rotting fluff, you have been warned, also mention of a previous abusive relationship.
Prompt: "We could be more, if you want."
A/N: Once more, I'm ignoring the list of prompts I need to write, as well as the request I have, for a different clone. Sorry not sorry.
Divider by Saradika
Tumblr media
“Thanks for helping, Tup,” You say cheerfully as your best friend places the final box on the floor of your living room, “I definitely would not have been able to afford the moving company.” You joke as you move between the stacks of boxes, making sure they’re all sorted properly.
“Well, you did promise me food and alcohol,” Tup replies as he organizes some of the boxes, “Plus, it got me out of today’s training.”
“Happy to help,” You grin at him, and step over a tightly rolled rug to join him in the kitchen. And then you lean against the counter and look at the stacks of boxes, “So. Where should we start?”
He leans against the counter next to you, “Mm. Kitchen, and then bedroom. That way if we don’t finish today, you’ll be able to eat and sleep.”
You flash a grateful smile up at him, and then lean against him comfortably, “What would I do without you, Tup?”
“Still be unloading your storage unit,” He counters with an answering grin as he reaches up and lightly tugs on the tips of your hair. “Come on, we’d better get to work.”
You sigh and allow your forehead to thump against his shoulder for a moment, and you smile when you feel his gentle touch on the top of your head. And then you pull back, “Alright. Same box or different boxes?”
“Different. It’ll go faster.” He pushes a box over to you, and then walks over to one of the taller boxes.
Several hours later, with your kitchen and bedroom unpacked, and the living room mostly unpacked, you flop onto your bean bag with a sigh. “I’m never moving again.”
The massive bean bag dips as Tup flops next to you, “Like, from the pillow or to a different house?” He jokes.
“Both,” You reply, turning your head to look at him with a fond smile, and then you laugh quietly, and roll onto your side. You reach out and lightly  tug on one of his curls, “Your hair is falling down, Tup.”
“Well, I have been moving around a lot,” He says defensively, as he sits up and pulls his hair out of his bun and combs his fingers through his hair.
“You have, and I appreciate it,” You answer soothingly, reaching for his hair tie. “Here, let me braid your hair.”
Tup pauses, and then he presses the hair tie into your hands, “You are very good at braiding.” He agrees as he moves to sit on the floor in front of you.
“I had a lot of practice braiding my doll's hair growing up,” You say brightly as you lightly comb Tup’s hair with your fingers, and split it into sections.
“Ah, so that's the trick.” Tup’s eyes close as you start gently braiding his hair, “So, I have a question,” He says after a moment.
“What’s up?”
“Is it my fault that you and your boyfriend broke up?” Tup asks, without opening his eyes.
Your fingers pause for a moment, “Of course not,” You lie, “We just grew apart, that’s all.”
“...you’re a terrible liar.” He says with a sigh, “What caused the problem?”
“Apparently I’m ‘too close’ to you.” You roll your eyes, “He was jealous, possessive, and insecure, and I’m sure the break up would have happened anyway.”
Tup tilts his head slightly, “Possessive?”
“Yeah. He didn’t want me talking to you, or anyone with a Y chromosome. Or my family.” You reply easily as you tie off the braid, “There, done.”
Tup runs his hand down the braid, and then turns to look at you, something grim in his eyes, “He was trying to isolate you?”
You smile at him fondly, “So it would appear,”
“Cyare, why didn’t you tell me?” Tup asks, a frown crossing his face.
You laugh quietly and reach out to lightly cup his face with your hands, “Because I know you, Tup. If I told you, you’d get that look on your face, the same one you have right now, and then I’d have to bail you out of prison.” You pause, “Which I would, because you’re my best friend and I love you, but it would still be annoying.”
Tup blinks at you, and then he flashes a slow smile, “You’d bail me out of jail?”
“Well, yeah. Of course.” You absently stroke his cheek, “Besides, he did a shit job at isolating me.”
“Yeah, because I came to your place and you were so happy to see me that you tackled me.” Tup jokes.
“I-”
“You knocked me over.”
“...I did do that, didn’t I?”
“It was impressive. I was impressed.” Tup continues with a growing grin as he taps your hands, and you drop them from his face, “Your ex was much less so.”
“Well…I never hugged him like that, I suppose.” You admit.
Something gleeful dances across Tup’s face for a moment, “Good.”
You laugh and flop back on the beanbag, “You’re so petty sometimes, Tup!”
He watches you with a fond smile on his face, “Well, I’m allowed.” He moves back to the beanbag, flopping next to you, “You know it wouldn’t have worked, right?”
“Hm?”
“Him trying to isolate you.” Tup clarified, “If you think, for a moment, that I wouldn’t drag an entire squad of my brothers to rescue you-”
You grin at him and shift to drop your head on his shoulder, “My own personal knight in shining armor.” 
He turns to look at you, something warm and soft in his gaze. His hand comes up to brush some of your hair out of your face. His fingers linger on your cheek for a moment, and he exhales slowly. He opens his mouth to say something, hesitates, and then flashes a rueful smile, “You owe me food, cyare.”
You grin at him, “Alright, alright. What do you want?” You ask as you sit up.
“Does that Mandalorian place deliver?”
“I think so. I’ll check.” You stand and walk over to the kitchen to grab your datapad, opening it and scrolling through the app.
Tup remains laying on the beanbag for a moment longer. He sighs quietly and presses the side of his fist against his forehead, his eyes squeezing shut. And then he gets to his feet and walks over to the kitchen.
“So, it looks like they do deliver, but we have to order a lot of food.” You say as he joins you, “So I was thinking that we could get appetizers, an entree, a dessert, and the drinks I promised you.”
“Sounds good,” Tup replies as he leans against the counter, and then he places his hand on the datapad and gently tugs it out of your hands, “So…I was wondering if we could talk?”
“Is something wrong?”
“No. Yes? Er…maybe.”
“...well, it does have to be one of those options, I suppose.” You reply, looking concerned, “What’s wrong?”
He takes your hands, slowly threading your fingers with his, “I really hated your ex.” Tup explains slowly.
“I know Tup. You weren’t exactly subtle-”
“No, I-” He sighs, and squeezes your hands, “I need you to listen to me, please?”
“Of course. You have my undivided attention.” You rub soothing circles on Tup’s hand.
“I really hated your ex even before you told me that he was trying to isolate you,” Tup explains slowly, “Because I’ve been in love with you for two years.”
“You-”
“Let me finish, please.” You close your mouth, and he inhales sharply, “I love you. I’m in love with you. I can go out and do my job as well as I can because I know that you’re here, safe, and waiting for me to come back. When I wake up every morning, you’re the first thought that crosses my mind, and you’re the last thing I think of before I go to sleep.” He speaks quickly, his grip on your hands tight, and his gaze searching your face for something, “And I know that we’re best friends, have been best friends for years. But-” He hesitates for a moment, “We could be more, if you want.”
You stare at him, your eyes wide. You slowly pull one hand out of his tight grip and you reach up and you very gently place your hand on his cheek, “You really think about me all the time?”
“How could I not?”
You smile, soft and gentle, “I would like more.”
“...you would?” Tup asks, lightly tugging you closer and slowly pressing his forehead against your own.
“Well yeah. It’s you Tup. It’s always been you.” You smile softly, “I’m just kind of blind sometimes. Will you ask me, properly I mean?”
He smiles then, wide and bright, “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks, his voice low and breathy.
“Yes,” The rest of your sentence is stolen, as his lips press against yours in a gentle kiss. His lips are warm and soft, and his grip around you firm and comforting at the same time.
He slowly pulls back and presses his forehead lightly against yours again. Tup has a bright grin on his face, “So…did your ex break up with you because you’re in love with me.” He asks, his tone light and teasing.
“That…might have been mentioned, yes.” You admit sheepishly.
His grin grows, “You still owe me food, cyare.”
You huff, though there’s no annoyance on your face, “I suppose this will be our first date, then?”
“That sounds like a plan to me,” Tup leans in and kisses you again and again. “I’ll…go back to unpacking.” He kisses you one last time, and then releases you to return to the stacks of boxes still in the living room. You watch him for a moment, a smile on your lips, and then you finally turn back to ordering your dinner.
119 notes · View notes
racefortheironthrone · 2 years ago
Note
Please innumerate for us the specialized problems of the library sciences.
Tumblr media
Let me start with the caveat that my information is based on my experiences at the National Archives more than a decade ago, and policy has definitely changed on this front as we can see from this graph of recent digitization - apparently NARA wants to get to 85% digitization by 2026. (Even still, I'd note that the records of the WPA are <0.001% digitized.)
However, back when I was doing the research that would eventually become my first book, I remember being at the National Archives II building in College Park, Maryland (Go Terps!) and getting really frustrated that all the records of the WPA were only available in their original physical form and that all the guides and indexes were also in paper only and were all from the 1970s, and I asked the archivist why the hell the National Archives hadn't been digitized already.
This is what they told me: if it's handled correctly and stored in the right environmental circumstances, paper can last a thousand years. Carbon copies can last even longer, if they don't rip. (Seriously, the bastard things are like onion skins, they'll split if you look at them funny.) Microfilm is slightly more technologically advanced than paper, but it only lasts 500 years in the right conditions.
We've only had computers en masse since the 1980s, and already there's a huge amount of records (especially from the early years) that we don't have any more, because the hard drives got re-formatted due to higher costs of storage space back in the day, or because old computers got thrown out when they were replaced by newer models and the hard drives are all rotting in landfills somewhere, or because backwards compatibility broke down and we just can't read those file types on our modern computers, or because the actual data got corrupted on the disc, or because some legacy company is asserting copyright against a video game museum, or because some political hack and/or president of the United States decided to violate the Presidential Records Act.
While we thought that the internet would cause an explosion of written records from ordinary people on the scale of the advent of mass literacy, there are vast swathes of the early internet that simply do not exist any more because the servers got switched off when Geocities et al. folded in the dot-com bubble burst or when everyone migrated to Web 2.0, and the Internet Archive tries its best (bless its heart, affectionately) but it can't be everywhere and save everything.
As a result, the archivist told me, digitization is a fraught question: what file format do we use? How do we know that file format will still be compatible and backwards-compatible in 50 years? 100? Longer? Do we keep everything locally or store it on the cloud, and how do we ensure that the storage mechanisms won't fail if there's a blackout or a virus or whatever? Do we digitize everything now, or do we wait until optical character recognition improves enough to the point where digitized records can be searched for words and phrases? Etc.
Keep in mind, I am a public policy historian who studies the 20th century U.S - I work primarily with the official records and the central archives of the richest government in the world. From a library sciences perspectives, this is kind of an ideal scenario, and it's still kind of fucked up. (Let me tell you, the rage and grief I felt when I learned that most of the General File of the Public Works Administration was thrown away by the National fucking Archives and Records Administration in the mid-1950s because they were running out of shelf space in the D.C location and didn't think these records were important...)
Tumblr media
Now imagine what it's like at a local historical society or a small liberal arts college, or the national museum of a developing nation for that matter, who do not have the resources for the kind of grand digitization project that NARA started doing five years ago. Think of the sheer scale of historical records that sleep, unseen and untouched perhaps for decades and perhaps for ever, in little cubbyholes all across the world. Among professionals, historical records are measured in linear and cubic feet - think about that for a second, how many pages of paper there are in a foot when you stack them up, and how many hundreds and thousands and millions of feet there are across the face of the world. Think of all the millions of feet of pieces of paper that have been lost to us because of fire or rot or war or time itself.
This is why Peter Turchin is a quack. Historical records are not a standardized little database for social scientists to plug their fucking spreadsheets into; historians don't play that kind of bullshit t-ball, with all our data neatly packaged and handed to us on a silver platter. Our profession is not a social science, it's a goddamn treasure hunt through boxes that were never catalogued or categorized (or that were re-catalogued so many times no one remembers how they were put together in the first place) to find writing that no one has read since the authors died. All of us know that our work, our understanding, will always be partial and limited, because memory is infinitely fragile and the very idea of historical preservation is a mad existential defiance of entropy itself. These records are real, they are fragile - to hell with the Library of Alexandria, remember the National Museum of Brazil? - and they are all that is left to us of the dead.
108 notes · View notes
final-girl96 · 5 months ago
Text
Broken World: Chapter Forty
Three Months Later
Winter has set in completely. The nights were bitter cold, and the days weren't much better. We were lucky enough that we found a storage unit a few weeks ago. We stayed there for about a week and went through as many units as we could, taking anything useful. But most importantly, we found winter clothes and blankets. The only reason we left was because walkers got in. There have been nights when we slept outside by a fire. It wouldn't be getting any better anytime soon.
We couldn't stay in one spot for too long before a herd would come through. The countryside wasn't any safer than the city with all the walkers migrating from the cities and more populated areas to the countryside looking for food, aka the living. Finding food for ourselves was a big problem, too. We looted every house and store we came by. Any place that was surrounded by walkers we tried to avoid. Daryl went out hunting several times a day to try and get whatever animal came by his path, but even that was becoming hard to come by.
Right now, we were sitting around a fire in the middle of the woods. T-Dog and Rick were keeping watch. We all stayed close together to help keep us the tiniest bit warmer. We're lucky enough that everyone has at least two blankets, plus we found sleeping bags, which helped a lot. None of us really slept; we were always on guard, ready to move. Tonight seemed calm for now. I had a blanket over my legs, tucked underneath me and one around me, pulled tight under my chin.
When I saw T-Dog and Rick coming back, I took both blankets off and folded them, setting them with my stuff. “I'll take the next watch,” I said. Rick stopped beside me, “I don't want you doing it alone,” he told me. I was about to tell him I would be fine but was cut off by Daryl. “I'll keep watch with her.” Rock nodded his head, clapping his hand on Daryl's shoulder.
Daryl followed me away from the camp site and into the woods. I wanted to get the perimeter of the camp. We had taken cans and hubcaps and strung them on rope so we could put them up around the camp to alert us if walkers or anything else was coming. Daryl and I checked the perimeter in silence and continued that silence as we stood guard. “Ya haven't been eating.” I turned my head and looked over at Daryl. “What?” I asked. I heard him. I just don't want to talk about it.
I've been giving most, if not all, my food to Carl. There have been several times that I've caught him giving his mother his food, and she accepts it. Don't get me wrong, I understand she's eating for two but she shouldn't accept all his food. So I've been giving Carl mine to make sure he eats. He's a growing boy, and he needs the nutrients more. It's not like I don't eat at all. “Ya heard me. I know you give Carl your food.”
“Well, he's a growing boy, Daryl he needs to eat. He gives his mother his portion, and she takes it. I get she's pregnant and eating for two, but she should not be except her son's food. Besides, it's not like I don't eat anything.” I turned my head back to scan the dark woods. “Need to eat more than a small piece of meat or a piece of a protein bar.” I let a sigh out and shook my head. “I'm fine. Besides, it's not like we have a lot of food these days, Daryl.”
“I'll talk to Rick about Carl giving his food to his mother.” I shook my head and walked a little closer to him. “Don't do that. Things are already so tense between him and Lori. We don't need to make it worse.” Just by Daryl's body language, I could tell he was conflicted on what to do. “Rick still needs to know. I know Lori is pregnant, but she shouldn't be taking her son's food.” I shrugged, “I know this. But to be fair, I think Carl is telling her that it's extra.”
Five Months Later
Winter was finally turning into spring. The days were getting warmer, but the nights were still cold. Lori was about to pop, and we were still out on the road. Neither Daryl nor I had to tell Rick about Carl giving his mother his food. Rick had caught him one night, and things didn't end well. He and Lori ended up getting into a fight, but when it was discovered, Carl was actually telling her there was extra food, and things calmed down. Lori felt terrible about taking food from Carl and hasn't done so since. Now, she makes sure he eats first before she eats her own food.
We were bouncing back and forth, trying to find a place to settle. There were a few times we found potential places to stay, but each time, walkers would come. There was a neighborhood, one of those up scale ones that were gated. It looked like everyone had been evacuated early. It had been completely empty. We stayed there for a few weeks until a herd of walkers came through and found a weak spot that we had noticed in the fence that wrapped around the whole neighborhood.
Then, there was an old warehouse that had a chain linked fence around it. The same thing happened, a large herd, about half the size of the one at the farm, maybe a little smaller than half, came through. We were running around in circles at this point. At every turn, we ran into walkers. Like right now, we were in a house we just cleared. Everyone was sitting in the living room. Loei had a jar of peanut butter in her hand, Daryl was plucking the feathers off an owl he had killed, and Carl was opening a can of dog food.
We were all hungry and tired. It was non-stop moving and running. When Rick saw what Carl had, he took it from him and threw it in the fireplace, making everyone look up at the loud noise it made. A few minutes later we were grabbing our things and headed out the door to the cars. Walkers were starting to slowly surround the small farmhouse.
Once we were far enough away, we stopped on the side of the road to look over the map. Like I said before, we were just running in circles. While everyone else waited by the cars or went to the small break to wash up Rick, Daryl and I went on a little walk through the woods.
We were supposed to be hunting for food, but we were following old train tracks instead. Good thing we were because when we got to a small clearing in the trees and weeds, we discovered a prison just on the other side. The three of us looked at each other, coming to the same idea. We could probably take this place and clear the yard and maybe a cell block.
14 notes · View notes
seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago
Text
Down on the farm, they used to have a saying. I don’t know what that saying is, because I was raised in a city, by loving parents who wanted more for me than to get crushed by a piece of industrial equipment at age 7. The fools. Ever since I’ve reached adulthood, I’ve been obsessed with the concept of farms. They’ve got storage space for cars. They’ve got shit breaking all day long that needs hack-job fixes. They’ve got storage space, for cars. Big Government isn’t coming by and rattling your cage over parking permits or draining coolant into wetlands, because they’re afraid you’ll murder them and hide their bodies inside a chicken coop. There’s room to park a bunch of cars.
Now, I still don’t live on a farm. There’s a couple reasons for that. Primarily, they’re expensive and smell bad. In fact, most of the farms around here have been silently bought up by enormous, semi-autonomous agriculture corporations, who hire workers to run the farm. No one lives on these farms, they just visit day to day like any average job, poking and prodding the livestock and crops as necessary. For months, the old Baker farm just outside the city limits would be completely unattended, except for one lonely security guard on Friday nights, who would do a circuit of the cornfield in his corporate diesel Cruze hatchback, looking for horny teens. This made the old Baker farm perfect for a little hanky-panky, me-style.
In my mind, I thought it would work like a time-share. I’d park my cars there during the winter, when no one was around, and get them the fuck out of there by the busy spring season. This would save untold hundreds of dollars in storage-unit fees, which was good. I was very tired of the storage companies lording it over us, chuckling and pocketing thick stacks of money as our economy ground to a halt and forced all of our cool junk into their vaults.
If I was really lucky, maybe my little trip to the farm would even make the bylaw officer in my neighbourhood think that I moved away or died, so he’d stop coming by every morning to ticket my shit over his morning Timmies coffee. There was just one problem: most (all?) of my cars didn’t move under their own power. That’s why they were being parked in the first place, because otherwise I’d be rotating them in and out, to throw off Special Constable Frank. I’d need something big to move them, and at the Baker farm, I found just that.
Now, of course I wasn’t “licensed” or even trained in the operation of a vintage ‘71 Chevrolet Titan semi truck, much less the car hauler trailer that I borrowed from the nearby Lexus dealer on the way. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that farm life means you have to make do with what you have. For instance, as long as I jammed the shifter really fast into third gear I didn’t really have to up- or down-shift the rest of the trip. Little loud, though.
149 notes · View notes
thetruearchmagos · 10 months ago
Text
On 'Energy Crystals'
Copying this over from a worldbuilding write up I posted on Discord!
Tagging @athenswrites @theprissythumbelina @hessdalen-globe @caxycreations @moremysteriesthantragedies @avrablake @thatndginger
While Energy Crystals are a very modern innovation, the pursuit for a crystal based means of high density energy storage is probably as old as the use of crystals in any of their myriad forms.
To skip the deep dive, 'magic crystals' operate through the highly ordered nature of their composition, a structure which extends beyond the three dimensions of the physical plane and which allows them to warp and rend the very fabric of the Underlay, that little understood realm of energy which permeates existence. In order to 'activate' their properties, however, energy in some form or another has to be supplied, 'forcing' the crystal's internal structure into the needed to act against the oppressive forces of the Underlay; heat, in the past, and these days truly massive amounts of electricity for the most intense applications.
A long noted characteristic of these crystals, however, has been their 'lag'. This effect describes the tendency for crystals to retain a small, rapidly decreasing degree of their powered properties even after their external energy source has been removed. The various physical characteristics of the crystal itself influences the degree of this lag, sheer size chief among them, which has at times been both a blessing and a curse for those using crystals for technical applications.
Still, it is not too difficult to see how a crystal's potential to retain energy might be a useful quality in and of itself. Various bodies have long attempted to harness this characteristic, but to little avail: having spent so long making crystals which efficiently utilised every scrap of energy fed to them to the fullest, it was very hard indeed to make one that would use no energy at all. Most interested parties would thus quickly decide to cut their losses early.
It would take modern developments in the field of micro-crystals and electrical-gate crystals to crack the problem. In the former field, a greater understanding of the internal structures of crystals at the most minute scale gave crystal forgers insight into the causes of crystal lag, and how crystals converted their input energy into work. The latter field was the result of the ability for crystals to act as incredibly efficient electrical conductors, leading to their application in the still nascent electronics and computing machine sector. Here, of course, understanding the interaction between crystal structures and electricity was key, as was minimising the 'waste' of a crystal's energy to activate the sorts of properties that in the past were their reasons for existence.
With the rise in this general understanding of just how a magic crystal worked, the secret to energy storage in crystals would be cracked in the 160s A.S. As with many technological developments, it was the United Commonwealth which would own the invention, lavishly funded from the sizeable cheque book of the Defence Consolidated Technical Establishment, whose leadership foresaw the many electricity intensive technologies poised to enter military use.
10 notes · View notes
saratinz · 2 years ago
Text
Fine China
pairing ➩ Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha x Sam (Modern AU)
warnings ➩ depression, addiction, alcohol, pills, angst, sad ending, cheating
synopsis ➩ Based off 'Fine China' by Lana Del Rey
word count ➩ 1.9k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You stare at the white dress you once loved so dearly. “Yeah, of course you can have it, Natasha.” 
“I’m so sorry this happened to you again. I know what I’m asking is insensitive, but this, it really means a lot.” 
“It’s okay, Nat. You’re going to look stunning. I’ve been left on my wedding day, twice, think I have a problem, and until I figure that out, I can’t be anywhere near this shit.”
“Thank you so much. God I love you.”
“I love you too. I’m so happy for you.” 
“I know this is asking a lot, but will you be my maid of honor?”
“I’d love to.” You put on your best fake smile. But as soon as she leaves, you slide down your wall, screaming to numb the pain you’ve been through in 
Four years ago
I wore diamonds for the birth of your baby
For the birth of your son
Steve Rogers always wanted a child, just his fatherly nature I guess. His ex-wife, Margaret, has always been a third in your relationship. You get the call while getting your makeup and hair done, quickly getting off your chair to drive to the hospital. You were shocked that this baby is coming out, considering it a month before his due date. Peggy manages to look gorgeous even while going through one of the most painful things known to man. “Hey sweetheart, can we talk in private for a second?” Steve pulls you into the hall.
“Oh, of course.” 
On the same day, my husband-to-be
Packed his things to run
“I’m so sorry , Y/n, my family is the most important thing to me right now.”
“I thought I was your family.”
“I love them.”
“I know that but do you really, y’know, love her that way?”
“I do.”
“You were supposed to say that to me.” You half-heartedly chuckle.
“Can you not joke right now.”
“Fuck you Steve. I gave up everything for you, I listened to you, I stayed with you after you cheated on me and impregnated Peggy, I was even gonna raise a child with you at 25.”
Was bittersweet to say the least
One life begins, one comes undone
You drive away from the hospital, speeding home to drink copious amounts of alcohol.
I've always been a strong woman of faith
Strong like a tree, but the unlucky one
You haven’t cried in years. When you went through your first break-up, you vowed never to cry over a boy again. And you didn’t. But right now, in this situation, you figure that it constitutes a few tears.
I'm going down now
With all of my
You feel broken. After suppressing every painful event in your life for nine years, you finally express your emotions. It’s a rough night, and all you could do was cry until you couldn’t anymore.
Fine china and fresh linen
All of my dresses with them tags still on them
You get a storage unit, and keep everything from your wedding that never happened, hoping that one day, you would get to use it for real.
Fine china and dull silver
My white horses and my ivory almonds
“You’re a beautiful girl, sure you want to mess with this stuff.”
“Give me the goddamn pills, Luke.”
I guess they really got the best of us, didn't they?
They said that love was enough, but it wasn’t
You think of the time you almost broke up with Steve. It was when Peggy found out she was pregnant, but the two of you had been together for a year, meaning that he cheated without a doubt. Your friends tried to help, but the best they could muster was a question. “Do you love him?”
“I do, yeah.”
“Then maybe that’s your answer.”
The Earth shattered, the sky opened 
The rain was fire, but we were wooden
All hell broke loose, as all of your friends found out Steve left you. Some of them were understanding, some of them dropped him immediately. One of those being Bucky Barnes, who was the only person who didn’t talk to you like you could break at any moment. And over the next year, you fell in love, the next year you got engaged. And now, three years after Steve broke your heart, you find yourself getting ready to be wed. You can’t believe you’re finally going to live your dream. 
I wore diamonds for the day of our wedding
For our day in the sun
You felt beautiful in your dress. “Y/n . We need to talk.”
“Buck, you’re not supposed to see me, it’s like, bad luck or whatever.” You let out a little laugh. You were never the superstitious type.
On the same day, my mother-to-be said she wouldn't come
“My mom, she’s not coming.”
“Oh god, is she sick or something. It would be a little tricky, but we could figure out rescheduling.”
“No, she’s just refusing to come.”
“I thought your mom liked me. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s not you, it’s just, I told her about your little pill problem.”
“What are you talking about”
“Don’t play dumb, I know you’re not on anti-depressants like you say. I may not be a doctor but I have Google.”
It's always been that way with me
No time for change, no time for fun
“Okay I’m sorry for lying, but what gave you the right to rifle through my stuff, and then talk to your mom  instead of me about it?”
“I can’t do this.”
“Can’t do what? Wait, you’re not talking about, no, what the fuck James? No, this, it can’t be happening again.”
It's always been that way, it seems
One love begins, one comes undone
“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I can’t do this anymore.  I can’t sit back and watch as you kill yourself.”
“Oh my god, so you’re leaving me because I like to relax.”
“It’s not just pills you’re addicted to, you’re addicted to me.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you’re like a leach, sucking the life force out of me. You’re never satisfied.”
“I didn’t want you to leave like Steve did.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I do.”
“I’m never gonna hear you say those words, am I?”
“I don’t know, Y/n, maybe one day.”
I'm going down now
With all of my
“So, I’ll do whatever I have to, I wanna be with you, I’ll get help. I’ll go to therapy, I’ll do whatever it takes, just please. Please.”
“I love you, Y/n, I always will.”
Fine china and fresh linen
All of my dresses with them tags still on them
Back to your storage unit, everything goes. You really thought this was it. You’re a fucking idiot.
Fine china and dull silver
My white horses and my ivory almonds
You try to get clean, and you manage to stay that way for three months. But one day, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky and your sponsor was on vacation, you take a little trip to your favorite dealer. “Hey, haven’t seen you in awhile. You getting sober or something?”
“Went to rehab, stayed off drugs for a guy. I’m just gonna ruin my chance with him, I guess.”
“You sure you wanna do that?”
“Fuck him, I need to think about me.”
I guess they really got the best of us, didn't they?
They said that love was enough, but it wasn’t
“I’m using again Bucky, and I’m not gonna stop.”
“Please don’t do this.”
The Earth shattered, the sky opened
The rain was fire, but we were wooden
“I’m sorry.” 
“Yeah, me too.”
Present day
All of my, all of my fine china
After five drinks and two pills, you get up on the little stage area that was set up.
All of my, all of my fine china
“Hey guys, as the maid of honor, I would like to say congratulations to my best friend and her wonderful new husband, Sam. But oh my god, if I hear anyone compliment the table cloth, dishes, decor, or god forbid the dress, I’m going to scream.”
All of my, all of my fine china
“Funny story actually, this was all supposed to be for my wedding. Bucky, where are you? Oh there he is. Handsome, right? Kind of an asshole but if you’re looking for a hook up, I highly recommend. He’s my ex who left me on our wedding day, so, yikes.”
Blue, ah, blue
“She stole my whole wedding. Hell she even stole the lingerie I was planning on wearing for my wedding night. So none of this planning is hers is what I’m trying to say. Guess I could be a fucking wedding planner or something. Ha, wouldn’t that be ironic, the girl who can’t seem to get married helping other people live her dream.”
All of my, all of my fine china
Natasha looks furious. But she didn’t want to stop you. She had done something pretty fucked up too, and even though you said you were okay, she knew you. She knew the pain you were going through. Not from experience though, only listening. She could never fully comprehend the damage done.
All of my, all of my fine china
You continue to embarrass yourself, but you’re too cross-faded to care.
Blue, ah
“Is anyone else still thinking about how weird it is that she’s wearing my underwear? I mean, I never wore them but it still seems a bit strange. Here’s a little secret, that’s her something blue.”
Fine china and fresh linen
All of my dresses with them tags still on them
The next morning, you wake with the worst hangover of your life. Oh shit, you ruined Nat’s wedding. As if things couldn’t get any worse, you’re not even in your apartment. Where the fuck are you?
Fine china and dull silver
My white horses and my ivory almonds
“Hey sleepyhead.” 
“Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“What the fuck happened last night?”
“You don’t remember? We had sex.”
“Oh god, what about Peggy?”
“She’s a bitch, I never should have left you.”
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.”
“What’s wrong baby?”
“You’re a terrible person. I need to go.” You scurry out of that hell-scape, cursing your drunk self.
I guess they really got the best of us, didn't they?
They said that love was enough, but it wasn’t
“I’d like to check into rehab again.” 
“That’s good Y/n.”
“I have one question, though.”
“What is it?”
“You were never gonna get back together with me, right? I mean it was pretty good incentive, but you were never serious.”
“No, we still have a chance.”
“Cut the shit Bucky. You don’t have to lie to me, just stop playing with my emotions.”
“I’m sorry. I really am.”
“Goodbye James.”
The Earth shattered, the sky opened
The rain was fire, but we were wooden
“Here you go. Everything you asked for is there.” Nat gives you boxes upon boxes of your wedding stuff back. 
Fine china, fine china, fine china
You break every plate, cup, and bowl.
Fresh linen, fresh linen, fresh linen
You burn every table cloth, napkin, and the dress you now hate with your whole heart.
Maybe one day you’ll get married, but you needed this stuff gone, and you needed to never think about it again. So far all you’ve gotten out of your engagements was depression, addiction, and some shards of fine china.
Masterlist / Spinoff series
93 notes · View notes
edisacornball · 11 months ago
Text
Ugh. I really, really don't want to make this post, but. I just don't know what else to do at this point.
So I've actually been to my first day of work. Things are really, honestly looking up, it's just a matter of holding on for a bit longer, somehow. The fact that I managed to get a full-time job in this economy, even if it's minimum wage, is just... I can't even believe how lucky I feel to have that, honestly.
But... My first paycheck won't be coming in until March 8th. OOF. Which means we're going to be going through a rough few weeks of trying to have my husband figure out how to have us keep having shelter for the night while I keep working. Which is rough, because we don't even have a car to escape to if things get bad. We've literally had several nights over the past year where we've had to resort to just sleeping on the streets with no shelter whatsoever.
On top of that, right now we're facing a problem with our storage unit, which is all our belongings in the world right now, and the only way we're able to function and move around while still having things like clothes and tools for art and anything other than the barest of essentials, basically. And it's currently 2 months overdue, which means we're at risk of losing it very soon if we don't do something immediately.
I'm not asking for some magical solution that makes it so that we can save our storage unit and be safe until my first paycheck. Like I said, we've figured it out before, we'll keep figuring it out. But I'm so terrified of losing everything other than the couple suitcases and backpacks of belongings we currently have. My cat's ashes are stored there. I just. I'm so freaking desperate to not lose it, and I was so desperately hoping my paycheck would come quickly enough to solve it, but realizing I'm going to have to go three weeks before my first paycheck was kind of terrible.
Anyway, we would need to somehow pull together $389.20 in order to save the storage unit. I'm attaching a screenshot to show I'm not faking, even though I know, yes, it would be very easy to fake. I'm happy to provide more information if people need, I'm just... so desperate.
Tumblr media
I've got a pinned post with links, but I kind of hesitate to put them directly on this post because it tends to make the post lose visibility. I think I might try reblogging with links, so check the notes.
11 notes · View notes
torreshalstead · 2 years ago
Text
Family means family
Tumblr media
Summary - After Stella dies on a call, Kelly locks himself away and refuses to see anyone including his daughter. There was only person who could pull Kelly out of the spiral he was in, yet he was 2000 miles away. But a single phone call from the last person Matt Casey expected to hear from changes that.
Warnings - Major Character Death
Notes - this is a prequel to Memories Bring Back You. That fic goes against my own long held headcannon that Severide is the most likely character to die from a broken heart so it was interesting to delve into a situation where he can’t do that and how that would impact him. This came out with a lot more Brettsey in than I had originally planned but I’m not mad about it! You don’t have to have read MBBY for this to make sense, they are standalone. Hope you enjoy! AO3 Link
Matt Casey finally had a second to sit down after an incredibly busy shift. When he hadn’t been on a call, he was busy running drills trying to get a couple of new firefighters on his rig up to scratch. They weren’t quite the same as his Truck crew back in Chicago but he was determined to make them as good as they could possibly be. He did enjoy seeing them grow and develop but he was still tired and was looking forward to a quick lie down, if the bells would allow it.
It wasn’t the bells that hindered his sleep however, it was his phone ringing and a glance down at the screen showed it was possibly the last person he had expected to see calling him.
He swiped his thumb across the screen to answer the call.
‘Hey,’ he said, unsure what tone he should be taking.
‘Hey Matt, I’m sorry to call but…’ Sylvie’s voice tailed off. It was quieter and shakier than he remembered. He knew her well enough to understand that this was not going to be a catch up call.
‘No, it’s okay, what’s up?’ He asked, his uncertainty turning to concern.
‘It’s not me, it’s Stella,’ he heard her sniff as she stifled a small sob. Matt sat up straighter.
‘What happened?’ He asked quietly, a lump growing in his throat knowing this couldn’t be anything good. He had spoken to Stella just last week. Lizzie had wanted to show him a painting she had done of him and Kelly, so Stella had video called him. She had seemed fine then. That meant that something must have happened on a call.
‘There was an accident’, Sylvie took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself but it came out shaky. ‘She didn’t make it out of a storage unit fire…’
Matt’s head dropped to his hands, it felt like a piece of his heart had been chipped off at his her words. He had known Stella for years, lived with her for a few. Watched her develop into the most incredible firefighter and leader. Been an incredible wife to his best friend and seen her become the most wonderful mother to Lizzie. That she had been taken from her family, both the one with her husband and daughter and the one at the firehouse. It wasn’t fair.
‘Kelly needs you Matt, I don’t want to ask or tell you what to do-’
‘No, I’m on the first flight.’ He interrupted with a small shake of his head. It was his best friend. There was nothing to keep him from Chicago at this point. ‘Thanks for calling Sylvie,’ he said softly, knowing it would have been hard for her to pick up the phone to call anyone and tell them about Stella, let alone call him.
‘They’re our family,’ she said quietly.
‘How are you doing?’ He asked, knowing that Sylvie always put everyone else's needs above her own and he doubted this time would be any different.
‘I.. I haven’t processed it yet. I don’t think any of us have. Just trying to hold it together for Severide’, she sniffed. ‘He’s in a bad way Matt’.
‘I wish I could say I would expect something else but he loves her with everything he has. Has he told Lizzie?’
‘That’s part of the problem. He hasn’t seen her since it happened yesterday. Sorry I didn’t ca-’
‘No no, it’s fine. I get it Sylvie, I do. Where is she then?’ He asked, knowing his best friend must be in an awful place if he was refusing to see his daughter.
‘She’s with Cindy and Hermann, she just thinks they are both working late I think. I’ll explain everything else when you get here. Let me know which flight you get on and I’ll pick you up.’
‘Okay. And thank you Sylvie, I’m glad it was you that called,’ he smiled softly, allowing himself a moment of comfort.
‘Of course, I’ll see you soon Matt’. And with that the call ended. And Matt was sitting alone in his office with the knowledge that one of his closest friends was no longer with them and his best friend was in agonising pain and he was almost 2000 miles away.
—————————————————————————
His chief had granted him the furlough immediately, no questions asked. He hadn’t even gone back home, just grabbed his station bag which had a couple of changes of clothes in it and headed straight to the airport. He had enough friends in Chicago that someone could lend him some clothes if needed. He didn’t want to waste any time.
Matt didn’t know what he would find when he touched down in Chicago but if Sylvie had called him, he knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Kelly had suffered loss before, more loss than one person should experience in their life and to have his wife taken away from him and leave him as a single parent, it was just cruel.
When Kelly had taken the OFI position after Stella had given birth, Matt wasn’t even a little bit surprised. He knew how much he loved his wife and Stella was just at the beginning of her career. She still had so much to give to the CFD. Severide had always been exceptional at arson investigation and if it meant he could be at home for his daughter then it made perfect sense.
However Matt knew his best friend, had known him and worked alongside him for years, so he knew that somewhere inside he would be questioning if he had been on the call if he could have helped, or even saved her. Without knowing the exact details of the call Matt couldn’t give a definitive answer but knew that if Kelly had been there, the likeness was that Lizzie would have lost both of her parents that day and Matt would be flying back to his home city for an even more heartbreaking reason.
Before he got on the flight, he dropped Sylvie a message to let her know when he was due to land, with a caveat to say she didn’t need to pick him up and he could get an Uber. He knew that she would be waiting for him at the arrivals gate though. He had also sent a message to Boden, Cruz, Hermann and Mouch to let them all know he was on his way back and that Sylvie had filled him in. He wished he was heading back to see his friends for a more positive reason but some small part of him was glad he would be around people experiencing the same grief he was. If he had had to go through losing Stella alone in Oregon, well, he’s not sure he could have.
—————————————————————————
As he had expected, Sylvie was waiting for him when he got through the arrivals gate. He could feel the nerves and the sense of uneasiness coming off of her as soon as he spotted where she was standing. She was tugging her sleeves over her hands, glancing around and nibbling her bottom lip. He hadn’t seen her since the morning after Kelly and Stella’s wedding, they had said goodbye at her apartment door as she had to go to shift and he had a flight to catch. They hadn’t spoken aloud the thought they were both sharing, that it might be the final time to see each other. They just held each other closely.
He walked over to her and before saying anything wrapped her tightly in his arms. He knew it had been the right decision when he felt her stiffness disappear and she melted into his embrace. He didn’t loosen his hold when he felt her shake and her tears wet his neck, he just let her cry in his arms. He felt the tears begin to spill from his own eyes but didn’t care enough to wipe them away. They were both sad, a horrible thing had happened and crying was a natural response, what onlookers thought didn’t matter right now.
‘Hi,’ he said softly when she eventually pulled back. He reached to wipe a stray tear from her cheek, not questioning how easy it was to fall back into simple physical contact with her.
‘Hi,’ she echoed. ‘That all you bring?’ she asked, nodding to the bag which was slung over his shoulder.
‘Yep, came straight from the firehouse, figured I could borrow some clothes off people if I need to’, he said as the pair started to walk towards the exit.
‘I still have a few of your things,’ Sylvie said quietly, a hint of embarrassment laced through her voice.
‘Then that’s perfect’, he said, smiling to dissuade her of those feelings. He still had a couple of her shirts in the back of his closet too. Getting rid of them had always felt too final. ‘Is Severide at the loft?’ He asked.
‘We think so’, she answered. ‘We haven’t seen him since the hospital. But that must have been where he went.’
‘Okay, so first stop is there? Then go see Lizzie?’ Sylvie nodded in agreement. First thing first, he had to see if he could coax his oldest friend out to see his one and only daughter, Matt knew it would be a challenge but knew he needed to succeed. For Kelly’s own sake.
—————————————————————————
The drive to the loft was bizarre. The air was thick with everything they weren’t saying. Matt was fighting the urge to reach across the centre console to hold Sylvie’s hand or rest his hand on her leg like they used to. What had brought them back together was something so tragic but the fact it could have been anyone who came to pick him up brought him an ounce of hope. Maybe it was wrong to feel this way considering where they were driving and what would be waiting for him but in the same breath he knew that Stella would want everyone to be happy.
When they pulled up to the loft, it was eerily quiet.
‘I’ll wait in the car for you. If you can get him out then I’ll drive you both to Hermann’s, I don’t imagine he’s in a fit state to drive,’ Sylvie said as she put her car in park.
‘Okay, I’ll leave you with my bag?’ he asked as he got out of the car, Sylvie nodded.
The walk up to the loft was bizarre, almost a sense of deja vu took over him, having walked this route for many years but not being back to visit in some time. Although he knew there was likely to be a spare key above the door frame, now was not quite the time to invade his friend's privacy. He would wait to see if he would be invited in, so knocked the door loudly and waited.
He couldn’t hear any movement inside but Kelly’s Mustang and Stella’s Jeep had been outside, along with his bike so Matt knew he was inside.
‘Kelly, it’s Matt, you going to let me in?’ He said loudly after a couple of moments, accompanying it with another loud knock. ‘I’m so sorry about Stella, Sylvie told me. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Open up and we can talk about it?’ When he still received no response, he tried another tack. ‘Sylvie and I were going to go and see Lizzie, I’m sure she’d like to see her dad? You could come with us?’
After another few moments of silence, Matt decided today was clearly not the day. Grief worked in funny ways and if Severide needed another day of solitude then Matt was going to be the one to grant that.
‘I’m going to go now Kelly but if you need me I’m at the other end of the phone. I’ll give Lizzie your love and I’ll be back tomorrow. And I really am sorry mate’. He hung his head and rested his palm against the door, hoping for a moment that Kelly would open the door but when that didn’t occur, he turned around and walked back to the car and to Sylvie.
‘You tried’, Sylvie said solemnly when he climbed back into her car.
‘I guess, let’s go see Lizzie and we can try again later’, Matt said. He hadn’t seen Lizzie in person since she was a baby, when Stella and Kelly had surprised him with a visit, although he spoke on the phone with her a lot so he was excited to see her. A pang deep in his chest reminded him that she didn’t know her mother had died and her father had locked himself away from the world. Maybe that was best, he thought, to give her another day before her life was irrevocably changed forever.
—————————————————————————
When Matt knocked on the door to the Hermann residence, with Sylvie behind him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it together in front of the little girl but knew he had to.
Hermann opened the door and immediately pulled him into a hug. The older firefighter was not usually one to initiate physical contact but Matt held him tightly anyway.
‘Good to see you man’ he said when he finally pulled back. ‘Did you see him?’
Matt shook his head dejectedly, ‘wouldn’t open the door’.
‘Same for all of us. Come on in then, the little one is in the garden playing.’ He stood back to let them in, ‘hey there Brett’, he added when Sylvie passed him with a sad smile.
The house was devoid of its usual hubbub. There had always been kids running around, the smell of something delightful coming from the kitchen, but today it was void of all of that as they walked through to the backyard.
Lizzie Severide was sitting on the swing set, kicking her feet against the dirt but not attempting to swing any further than the couple of inches it was moving as a result of her motions. When the door opened and Casey and Syvlie stepped out, her head shot up and a sudden look of disappointment flickered across her young face when the people at the door were not the ones she was clearly waiting for. The excitement when she realised who it was took over quickly however and she squealed with excitement before jumping off the swing and running towards the pair, throwing herself at Matt’s legs.
‘Uncle Matt!’ she said excitedly as he knelt down and pulled her into a tight hug.
‘Hey kiddo,’ he said as he kept the little girl cradled against his chest, trying to pour all the love he had for her into it. ‘How are you?’ he said as he pulled back slightly, keeping his hands on the tops of her arms, squeezing lightly.
‘Good. Cindy made brownies,’ she said excitedly, tugging at the bottom of her shirt and bouncing from foot to foot. ‘But Mommy and Daddy are working,’ she said, pushing her bottom lip out. The pout he was sure could get his best friend to do anything his daughter asked.
‘They are, they have important jobs. But I know they love you lots and lots,’ Matt said and pulled a smile onto his face, shielding the pain.
‘I know,’ Lizzie said with a smile, clearly it was something her parents told her a lot. Good, Matt thought, she should be told it as often as possible.
‘Did you see who I brought with me?’ Matt asked, nodding his head up at Sylvie. Lizzie’s head spun around quickly to look where he was nodding, the smile widened on her face as she realised who had come to visit with her favourite Uncle.
‘Auntie Betty!’ Matt had to stifle a laugh at this and shot Syvlie a questioning look.
‘People were calling me both Sylvie and Brett and somehow Auntie Betty was born,’ she chuckled lightly.
‘I like it,’ Matt said with a wink.
‘Only I call Auntie Betty!’ Lizzie said firmly, the little girl clearly had her mothers fire within her.
‘Of course, only you get to call me Auntie Betty,’ Sylvie smiled and ran her hand over the girl's head, her curls were attempting to be restrained with some tight dutch braids but a few flyways were escaping.
‘Uncle Matt’, Lizzie said, turning back to Casey, an inquisitive look in her eyes.
‘Yes Lizzie’, he said, dreading the question that was coming next.
‘When Mommy and Daddy coming home?’ She looked down at the floor sadly. This had clearly been a question she had asked numerous times since she had arrived at the Hermann’s.
Sylvie had explained on the drive to the loft earlier what had happened. Kelly had brought Lizzie to the firehouse to celebrate her birthday and surprise Stella, that’s when the call to the storage facility came in. Kelly and Lizzie had stayed at the firehouse, assuming the call wouldn’t take too long and they could continue the birthday celebrations afterwards. When the worst had happened, Boden had called Kelly immediately knowing he would want, more accurately, would need to be there. Kelly left Lizzie at the firehouse with Stephanie, Kylie’s replacement, and Cindy had picked her up from there. Lizzie hadn’t seen her father since.
Kelly had pulled up to the scene and it had been worse than anyone had imagined. Cruz and Boden had to physically restrain him to stop him running into the building that was still burning. Sylvie’s eyes had filled with tears when she had been telling Matt how Kelly hadn’t stopped calling Stella’s name, his voice getting more hoarse with each yell.
When she had been brought out by the Truck crew, Kelly had attempted to resuscitate her himself, yelling at everyone that he could help her, he could bring her back. The rest of them had looked on in desperation, no one knowing when they should pull him back.
Finally, Boden had pulled him back. He had fallen to his knees and hadn’t said anything else. The tears stopped and he just watched them load her into the ambulance. Sylvie described it as seeing his soul disappear, it was like it was just Kelly’s body, he wasn’t in there anymore, his eyes had grown empty and he hadn’t said anything else.
Cindy and Hermann had expected Kelly to come and pick Lizzie up after leaving Med but he hadn’t shown. They had tried calling, Sylvie and Joe had gone round to the loft but there had been no answer. They hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
‘As soon as they can sweetie,’ Matt said, hoping the small white lie wouldn’t come back to haunt him. ‘How about we go inside and have one of those yummy brownies and you can tell me everything you’ve been up to since I’ve seen you last?’
Lizzie took a moment to contemplate before she nodded with a smile and tugged on Matt’s hand, pulling him towards the kitchen.
——————————————————————————
‘Can you drop me off at the loft?’ Matt asked as the pair got back into the car having spent the last couple of hours hearing all about what Lizzie had been drawing or making or eating. Once you got the little girl talking, there’s no way to stop her. It was refreshing, Matt had thought, she was such a happy child, he really hoped she’d be able to keep that spark even when the awful news was broken to her.
‘Are you going to try and talk to him again?’ Sylvie asked curiously.
‘Figured I’d fill him in on how Lizzie is doing and hope that works, then I’ll kip on the couch’.
‘And if it doesn’t, you plan on sleeping in the hallway?’ She chuckled.
Matt ran his hand over his chin, his 5 o’clock shadow firmly adorning his cheeks. ‘Guess I hadn’t really thought that far’, he admitted bashfully.
‘Okay, well if you can’t get through to him, I’ll wait downstairs and you can crash with me,’ Matt’s head swivelled quickly towards her, ‘I have a perfectly good couch Matt, you know that.’
‘Guess I do’, he smiled. ‘Thanks Sylvie, that sounds like a plan’.
‘I’ll give you 20 minutes, if I don’t hear from you then I’ll assume you’re staying with Severide, okay?’ Matt nodded in agreement as they continued their way towards the loft.
The climb up to the loft felt less unusual this time, but Matt had less hope that his friend would open the door than he had had previously. He knew Kelly well enough to know that he would have gone completely into his shell and it would take a lot to get him out of it.
He had debated bringing Lizzie back with him, knowing that Severide would have to open the door to his daughter. But having no idea what state Kelly was in on the other side of the door, he didn’t want to subject Lizzie to that. He would give Kelly one more chance to let him in of his own volition before he resorted to more drastic methods.
He knocked the door slightly harder than he had done when he had been here a few hours ago, thinking maybe it was just that he had been in his bedroom and couldn’t hear him knocking.
‘Sev, hey. It’s me again. I’ve just come from seeing Lizzie. She misses you man, is asking about you and Stella. I just told her that you both loved her.’ Matt took a deep breath before continuing. ‘It can’t come from anyone else but you Kelly, and I know that’s awful and painful, but it has to. She can’t hear this when she hasn’t got you there to turn to. You’re all she’s got. She needs you.’
‘She’s grown so much man, and she’s the spitting image of Stella. She’s so smart too, took great pride in telling me all the things Hermann does wrong around the house that Cindy has to correct him. You must be so proud of her.’
‘I’m going to go now, give you a little bit more time. But I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. And Sev, I’m coming in whether you like it or not. And I really would prefer if you opened the door for me, don’t want to screw my shoulder up again by barging it down. But I will.’
As he turned to leave, he stopped and approached the door again.
‘We are all here for you. We love you, we love Stella and we love Lizzie. You’re not going through this alone man.’
—————————————————————————
‘Thanks for letting me stay Sylvie’, Matt said as he finished his takeout. They had ordered Chinese when they got back to her place, neither being in the mood to cook. Placing the empty container on the coffee table and he relaxed into the back of the couch.
It was odd being back here in her apartment. They had spent the majority of their time here when they were together. He had begun to think of it as much more of their apartment with the amount of time he spent there, sleeping in her bed more often than he slept in his own.
This is the place where they had spent their first night together, but he also knew this was the place where he had broken her heart, telling her he was leaving and going to Oregon. He knew he had had his reasons, knew that Sylvie understood them, but he still wished that they had stayed the course. He missed her, had spent a long time missing her before realising that it was futile. Until the thing keeping them apart stopped being an issue, then they would continue to stay apart.
It had stopped being an issue in the last couple of months, but Matt had still not made the final decision to come back to home. He did genuinely love his job in Oregon, fighting forest fires was something completely different and refreshing. He had spent a long time working with his crew to bring them up to the level he expected. But without the boys, there was nothing keeping him in Portland anymore.
He had contemplated coming back so often. Of calling up Boden and seeing if he could return, the likelihood of coming back to 51 was slim, he knew that, all the leadership positions had been filled. But even if he was back here, he would be around his family again.
Griffin had been accepted into the CFD and was now working as a candidate at a house across the city, although Matt knew his dream was to work on 81, the same truck as his father.
Ben was studying Maths over on the East Coast. He didn’t have the same pull back to Chicago as Griffin did but also had no inclination of staying in Portland. When he had applied to colleges on the East Coast and got accepted to a small school, he was incredibly excited and Matt was equally as proud of him.
He would be lying if he had said that Sylvie wasn’t a factor in his decision either. Both for the want to come back and the uncertainty about it. He didn’t expect them to be able to immediately fall back into what they had before, but at least without the physical distance between them, it could actually be a possibility again.
‘It’s no problem’, Sylvie said with the soft smile that Matt had been so fond of. It was different to the smile that Syvlie used the majority of the time, the one she dolled out to patients as easily as breathing. This was the smile she shared only with those she cared deeply about, the ones that she had let into her life and through her defences. Matt was grateful that he could still be included in that group. ‘You sure you’ll be okay out here?’ She brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘We’ve shared a bed before, I don’t mind,’ she said softly.
Matt smiled warmly but shook his head. ‘It’s alright, I’ve stayed out here before. It’s perfectly comfortable. I don’t think either of us are in an emotionally stable state to be sharing a bed again, not yet,’ he added with a glance up at Sylvie and clocked how a blush started to spread across her cheeks. ‘But I’m here if you need me’, he said and she nodded in response.
‘Probably a smart idea,’ Sylvie said with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘I’ll get you some blankets then.’ She retrieved them, placed them on the coffee table and then smiled before retreating to her bedroom, leaving Matt standing alone in the living room wondering if he had just made the wrong choice.
At some point in the night however, he felt a small hand on his shoulder and awoke to see Sylvie standing over him, her eyes rimmed with red. He sat up quickly and she reached out a hand to him, he hesitated slightly before placing his hand in hers. She tugged him wordlessly towards her bedroom and he went willingly, following her without question.
She climbed into the bed, the side she had always slept on and held up the covers for him to slide under as well. When he had made himself comfortable, she curled herself into his chest, her body warm against his. He wrapped his arms around her in a familiar motion, allowing himself a moment to breathe in her usual vanilla shampoo scented hair. The pair fell asleep, awash in the comfort that being in each other's presence and arms provided and when they awoke in the morning they didn’t question it, they simply just smiled.
—————————————————————————
Sylvie was on the shift that day so Matt drove her to work and then headed straight over to the loft in her car. He wasn’t taking no for an answer today, he needed to see his friend and he needed Kelly to agree to go see his daughter. Keeping Lizzie in the dark any longer than necessary wasn’t the right thing to do but at the same time, the news had to come from Kelly.
Approaching the front door, he stretched out his shoulders. Matt hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d break down the door if he needed to. Feeling like he should probably give his friend a warning, he knocked on the door and announced his presence.
As with the previous times he had stood in this spot, there was no answer. So Matt took a couple of steps back, he knew the door was pretty heavy so might take a bit to get it down. Just as he began to take the first step forward it opened and a dishevelled looking Kelly stood before him.
He didn’t say anything as Matt took in his appearance. His hair, much greyer than it had been when Matt had left Chicago, was stood up in a myriad of directions, he was supporting at least 2 days worth of stubble on his cheeks and if Matt had to take a guess, the sweatpants and t shirt adorning his body were equally as old.
‘Hey,’ Matt said as he walked past his friend and into the apartment they had once shared. Just like Kelly, the apartment was also in a state. There were empty beer bottles littering the coffee table and the kitchen counters, containers of home cooked food no doubt brought over by Cindy and Donna, were sitting out of the fridge.
‘Didn’t want you breaking down the door,’ Kelly huffed as he walked over to the couch and threw himself down on it. Resuming the position that Casey assumed he had been in since he had returned here after the news broke. He reached out and grabbed one of the beer bottles off the table and took a swig, clearly one of the not completely empty ones.
‘I wouldn’t have to if you'd opened it yesterday when I knocked,’ Matt said, standing near the kitchen, unsure if his best friend would welcome him sat down near him at this point.
‘Thought you’d take the hint that I didn’t want company,’ Kelly said with a gruff laugh.
‘Well too bad, I’m here now so why don’t you get cleaned up and we can go see Lizzie. She’s asking for you.’
Kelly shook his head and lowered his gaze, picking at the label on the bottle.
‘I know it’s tough-’ Matt started to say before Kelly’s head shot up, his eyes rimmed with red.
‘You know?’ Kelly scoffed harshly. ‘You’ve had to tell your daughter that her mother is dead and won’t ever be coming home?’ He laughed coolly and took another draft from the bottle. ‘Didn’t think so’, he muttered and his gaze fell back down to the floor.
‘No, but I did lose a fianceé,’ Matt said calmly. ‘And I had to tell the Darden boys that their mother was in jail and couldn’t come home.’ Matt took a deep breath before continuing. ‘And I lost my father when I was a kid too, lost my mother at the same time as well in a manner of speaking.’ Matt swallowed, he wasn’t one to compare traumas but he hoped it would reinforce with Kelly that he was speaking from a place with a little knowledge on the subject.
Severide looked up, the tears that had been held back by his eyelashes before, were now silently making their way down his cheeks. ‘Sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘I know you didn’t,’ Casey said as he made his way over to the living space and took a seat on the empty chair. ‘But Lizzie needs you Kelly.’
‘I know but how do I tell her? I haven’t even processed it myself yet,’ Kelly said, angrily wiping the tears away from his face as if they were a display of weakness.
‘You process it together,’ Matt said steadily. ‘I’m not saying it’ll be easy Severide, hell, it’ll be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. But it’s the right thing to do.’
Kelly nodded, keeping his gaze firmly on the floor. ‘I keep thinking I’m going to see her, out here making dinner or coming in the door after a shift. Keep hearing her voice, talking to Lizzie, playing with her. And then I look over and there’s no one there.’ He sniffed and wiped away his continued stream of tears. ‘And if I’d have been there, I could have done something. I could have saved her.’ The final sentence was distorted by a sob and a thud as the beer bottle he had been holding fell to the floor and Kelly cradled his head in his hands.
‘If you’d have been there, Lizzie would have lost two parents that day.’ Matt said slowly. ‘There was a reason when you had her, you went to work at OFI. And you can say it was the hours of whatever, but I know you and Stella had the discussion about you both being on a call. When you’re a first responder and have kids, you have to think like that.’ Kelly nodded but kept his head buried in his palms.
‘I can’t do this without Stella,’ he whispered.
Matt had stayed strong until this point, had decided this was not the place for him to display his grief, he was here for his friend, but the heartbreak in hearing those words brought tears to his eyes.
‘You can’, he said, ignoring how his voice cracked. ‘You’re not alone in this Kelly. Your 51 family is here for you and we won’t let you go through this alone. We’ve got you and we’ve got Lizzie.’
‘She was the best mom’, he said, lifting his head out of his hands slightly to gaze across the room. Matt followed his line of sight and saw that his eyes had landed on a framed photo of Stella and Lizzie laughing. ‘She was scared about it when we found out we were expecting but she was incredible. The pregnancy, the birth, everything. I fell in love with her even more every day.’ He wiped a wayward tear but a hint of a sad smile was beginning to tug on his lips. ‘And then Lizzie came along and she’s the spitting image of Stella. A mini her if ever there was one. She talks like her, walks like her, has her eyes and her smile. Stella taught her everything she knew, and I know she’s so proud of her,’ his smile faltered but he continued. ‘I’m so proud of her. I’m proud of them both. They made me who I am but without Stella… it just feels like a piece of me is missing. And I don’t want to pass that hurt on to Lizzie. She doesn’t deserve that. She’s so perfect. Too perfect to be in pain.’
Matt sat silently, letting his friend get everything out that he needed to. It was breaking him to see Kelly in this much pain and for the first time he really understood why he had been avoiding seeing his daughter.
He was trying to protect her. To let her have a couple more hours, more days, before her life would be changed forever. He didn’t want to be the one that caused her pain.
‘Stella didn’t deserve to die.’ Kelly said into the silence. Matt didn’t know how to respond, he agreed of course but in their line of work unfortunately they could never guarantee they would walk out of every fire. Both he and Kelly understood that but he guessed the reality was something that couldn’t be completely comprehended until it happened.
‘Is she okay?’ Kelly said, turning his head quickly to look at Matt who looked stunned at the question. ‘Lizzie, I mean.’
Matt nodded. ‘She’s fine. She misses you and her mom and has been asking about you. Cindy and Hermann have just been saying you’re still at work which seems to have appeased her for now but it won’t for much longer.’
Kelly nodded, wiping his hands across his face and pressing his heels into his eyes. ‘Will you come with me?’ He asked as he stood up. ‘To tell her?’
Matt nodded in agreement, ‘I’m here for whatever you need. We’re family.’
—————————————————————————
Whilst Kelly showered and got himself cleaned up, Matt busied himself by tidying up around the apartment. Throwing out all the empty bottles and checking the contents of the food containers to see if anything could be saved and refrigerating what he could salvage. By the time Kelly came out of the bedroom, the loft was back to looking in a more inhabitable state.
‘You didn’t have to-’ but Matt shook his head before Kelly could finish his sentence.
‘Don’t. We’re family.’ He smiled, and Kelly returned it, albeit a smaller smile but it was genuine all the same. ‘I called Cindy to let her know we were coming over’. Kelly nodded. ‘You ready?’ Matt asked.
‘No, but I don’t think I ever will be.’
‘Come on then, let’s go’. Matt said, leading the way to the door. He turned around once he had reached it and saw Kelly rooted firmly to the same spot he had been a minute before. He opened the door and waited patiently. He knew his friend just needed another moment, he had said he was going to see Lizzie today and Matt believed him.
‘Okay’, Kelly said shakily as he ran his hand through his hair and walked through the door Matt was holding open for him.
—————————————————————————
The drive to the Hermann’s was tense, the air was thick. Everytime Matt glanced over Kelly he was bouncing his leg and wringing his hands. The old roommates sat in silence, this was going to be tough no matter which way you span it and if Kelly needed any help, Matt hoped he knew he could ask.
When they walked up to the door, Severide hesitated with his fist outstretched, an inch away from making contact with the wood. Matt rested his hand comfortingly on his shoulder and felt an ounce of tension drain from Kelly who knocked 3 times before taking a step back.
Cindy opened the door, a sad smile on her face as she pulled Kelly in for a hug.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss Kelly,’ she said quietly, holding him tightly before pulling back. ‘She’s in the garden.’
Kelly nodded and pulled his lips into a tight line.
‘I’ll stay with Cindy but we will be in here if you need us,’ Matt said, closing the front door behind them and gesturing to the living room.
Kelly nodded again and walked towards the backdoor. Matt heard the yells of ‘Daddy!’ when he opened it. It felt like a stab to his chest knowing that that excited voice would become the exact opposite in just a few moments.
He and Cindy sat side by side on the couch, neither knowing what to say or do, trying to give the Severide’s their privacy but at the same time being ready to jump in with support if it was needed.
After 15 minutes when neither Kelly or Lizzie had reappeared, Matt walked into the kitchen to peer out the window. What he was greeted with, shattered his heart even more.
Kelly was sitting on the swing, with Lizzie in his lap, her body curled tightly into his, his arms around her, a hand running over her hair. Matt could see the tears on Kelly’s face from here and could see how the little girl's body was shaking too. Severide was talking quietly to her whilst lightly pushing the swing back and forth. Matt stood there for a moment, before it felt like he was intruding on a private moment and returned to the living room. He smiled softly at Cindy and nodded at the unasked question.
A couple of minutes later, Severide appeared with a tired Lizzie still curled in his arms holding on tightly to her father.
‘Uncle Matt, is it alright if you take me and Lizzie home?’ He asked, his eyes were still red from the tears but he seemed lighter than when he had left the loft.
‘Of course’, Matt got up and smiled. ‘You okay?’ he mouthed, not wanting to ask anything else outright in front of Lizzie. Severide nodded with a sad smile.
Lizzie fell asleep in the back of Sylvie’s car as Matt drove them back to the loft so Severide carried her upstairs and tucked her in on the couch.
‘I don’t want to put her in her room in case she wakes up and doesn’t know where she is’, Kelly said as he leant against the kitchen island, with Matt on the other side.
‘Good idea. Do you want me to get you two anything?’ He asked but Kelly shook his head.
‘You’ve already done enough man, we appreciate it. And I know Stella would too’, he smiled sadly again. ‘When are you going back to Portland?’ he asked curiously, knowing his best friend must have had to drop everything quickly to make it out to Chicago as fast as he did.
‘Still got a few things to work out on that front, but I’ll let you know.’ Matt smiled as he picked up his jacket. ‘I’ll leave you to it, but call me if you need anything okay?’ Kelly nodded and followed Matt to the door.
‘Thanks again, not sure anyone else could have got me out that door today’.
Matt hesitated and then pulled Kelly into a hug, slapping him a couple of times on the back before pulling away. ‘Family means family’.
—————————————————————————
Matt used the remainder of the day visiting his sister who he hadn’t seen since he had left either. She hadn’t heard about Stella but had met her a few times so was still saddened by the news. She offered to let him stay there that night which he took her up on. Sylvie had said he could crash at hers again but it felt weird being there without her and he didn’t want to intrude on Severide’s time with his daughter.
He got up early the following morning, his flight was later that afternoon but he had a couple of things he wanted to get done before he headed to the airport.
First was to stop by 51. He was picking up Sylvie and a conversation with her was high on his list but first, he had a meeting with Boden.
He had called his old boss and mentor the previous afternoon when it became clear to Matt that he was needed back in Chicago. The same thing that had called him to leave for Potrland in the first place, was now calling him home. Family.
He wanted to speak to Boden about returning to the CFD. And specifically about returning to Boden’s district. He knew he wanted to return to 51 at some point but for now he would settle to being somewhere under Boden’s watchful eye.
He hadn’t expected the meeting to be as direct as it had been. Boden without hesitation offered him the command position back on Truck 81. It wasn’t the same company it had been when he had left but Boden was wary about putting a floater or someone from another house into the empty space. The whole house was grieving and that crew specifically had lost their leader. But if there was anyone who Boden felt comfortable being in charge of the truck, it was Matt Casey. He was grieving too and understood just what an important person's shoes he would be attempting to step into.
Matt had been shocked by the offer and let him know he would need to speak to Kelly about it. Although for years 81 had been his rig, it was Stella’s now and her husband should at least get a say about who would take over. He didn’t want anyone to feel like he was replacing her or usurping her position.
He was still deep in thought, when Sylvie walked onto the apron.
‘Penny for them?’ She asked with a smile, nudging him gently with her shoulder.
‘Not sure they’re worth that but I’ll tell you in a bit. Fancy a walk along the riverwalk? I missed it in Portland’.
—————————————————————————
Matt wasn’t sure what Sylvie’s response would be when he told her he was coming back to Chicago. He hadn’t expected her to jump into his arms immediately but he also hadn’t been expecting the stoney silence he was currently experiencing.
‘Say something Sylvie,’ he asked as they continued to meander next to the river.
‘Don’t come back just for me,’ she said quietly and abruptly stopped.
‘What?’ Matt asked, confused, turning around to face her.
‘I’ve moved for relationships before Matt, and felt stuck and I don’t want you to feel like that.’ She ran a hand through her hair, her expression difficult to read. ‘If you want to come back to Chicago for you, then please do. I know it’s your home. But if you’re only coming back for me, then please… please don’t’.
‘I’m coming back for a number of reasons,’ Matt started. ‘But I won’t lie to you and say that you aren’t included in that. But you’re not the only one.’ He added quickly as she opened her mouth to interrupt him.
‘There’s nothing holding me in Portland anymore. Griffin is in Chicago now and Ben’s off at college. And sure I like my job there but it’s got nothing on the CFD. And I need to be here for Severide. He won’t say he needs the help or even ask for it, but this is going to be so hard on him and Lizzie. I can’t abandon them.’
He reached out his palm, hoping Sylvie would take it. He squeezed her hand lightly when she did.
‘But the reason we didn’t work was because I wasn’t here. And I’m not saying we will get back together or everything would be simple again but if I’m here then at least there’s a chance, right?’ he smiled and Sylvie returned it warmly.
‘There’s a chance’, she echoed. ‘But what about work? Will the CFD have you back?’
‘Boden’s offered me the spot on 81. But I need to talk to Kelly before I take it. I don’t want him to think I’m erasing Stella’s legacy by going back to it. She deserves to be remembered and held in everyone’s memory.’
The pair continued to stroll along the riverwalk, taking in the early morning bustle of Chicago. And if they were still holding hands at the end of it, then neither of them mentioned it.
—————————————————————————
Sylvie dropped Matt off at the loft again, having called ahead to make sure it was alright for him to pop in.
‘Hey’, Kelly said as he welcomed Matt in through the door. A stark comparison to the last time he had opened the door for him. ‘Want breakfast?’ He gestured to the kitchen where the bacon was cooking in the pan.
‘Nah I picked something up with Sylvie’, Matt smiled and followed him over, taking a seat at one of the bar stools.
‘Interesting’, Kelly said with a smirk as he turned the bacon over.
‘Shush, but there is something I want to talk to you about’, he said, a sudden sense of apprehension filling him.
‘Shoot’, Kelly said, busying himself with some eggs.
‘I’m coming back to Chicago. And Boden offered me the command of 81’. He saw Kelly freeze, still facing away from him. After a couple of seconds of silence, Matt continued. ‘But I told him I needed to speak to you. 81 is Stella’s truck and I don’t want you to think I’m stepping in where I shouldn’t, or trying to take over from her.’
Kelly turned around and shook his head. ‘If anyone’s going to take over from Stella, I’m glad it’s you.’ He said with a smile, his eyes brimming with tears. ‘You understand how big of a task it is, to walk in her shoes. And I know the crew would respect you, unlike if someone new came along and tried to take her place. And I know Stella would be okay with it too.’
‘If you’re sure?’ Matt asked.
‘I’m sure, but you’re sure you want to come back to Chicago? You’re not just coming back because of me and Lizzie right?’ He gestured at himself and then down the corridor with the spatula in his hand. ‘Because we’ll be okay, it’ll be a tough road, but we will be okay’.
Matt chuckled lightly, ‘you sound just like Sylvie. No I’m not just coming back for you too, although it has factored into my decision. And no, before you ask, I’m not just coming back for Sylvie either. Chicago is my home and my family is here. And it’s time for me to come back to that’.
‘Okay then’, Kelly said, downing his tools and walking round to the other side of the island. ‘Welcome back to Chicago,’ he said as he pulled Matt into a hug.
‘I do have to go back to Portland first and actually resign,’ he chuckled as Kelly pulled back a smirk etched on his face. ‘But I’ll be back for the funeral in a couple of days, and then I’m staying. For good.’
96 notes · View notes
amunyan · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
On Sunday evening, your bad mood began to improve. Yes, the mug hadn't been the best gift for Mereoleona. Maybe, just maybe, you should have listened to Yami. But you still had about a week to find something else.
And if necessary, you could just ask her out on Christmas Eve and spend some time together. Take a walk through the festively lit city. Go to the spa to unwind after all the hustle and bustle you tried to avoid on your list. Yes - just the two of you spending quality time together. Like you did today. Well, at least the last hour you and Mereo spent eating at your favourite restaurant.
You are really tired after this long and stressful day in your uninhabitable apartment and the latest information from your landlord. Cooking was not really an option for you, so you suggested going out to eat.
Mereo has accompanied you to your flat today. To get the rest of your stuff out and to talk to Henry, your landlord. He was still very sorry about the situation, but he had managed to rent some storage units for his tenants, where they could put their larger items until the water damage and the electricity thing was fixed. Although the damage was already greater than previously thought, the full extent was still not yet clear. It was also unclear how far the damp in the walls had secretly seeped into the individual flats...
So you and Mereoleona took a few boxes of your belongings. Just small, loose things that you didn't really need at the moment, but didn't want to leave in the flat either. Sometime between the holidays, you and your dad would get the bigger furniture. You also meet Vanessa and Finral there, who are also packing some of Vanessa's stuff into the storage room. She also has a little early Christmas present for you, although she thought you already knew what it was and would have seen you before the holidays. But she wanted to give it to you anyway.
Besides, Henry had said that as soon as the weather will get better, the damage would be repaired as quickly as possible. And so - all the stuff had to be removed from the flats anyway to make way for the renovation. Yeah, let's not put anything away - it's a shitty situation. But Henry is doing his best to solve the problems.
"The food was good," Mereoleona praises the food to the waitress after you have paid. Like a thank you for the day's help. "Now just a good shot of liqueur for the digestion and I am more than happy." A huge grin appears on her lips as she leans back in her chair. You, too, smile from ear to ear - just to see her so happy.
"Any of you?" The waitress looks at you, but you shake it off as you start to get up. "I'm fine. I don't need anything."
"Are you sure? You know they can make you something non-alcoholic."
The hostess nods and lists a few options, but you stay with it.
"No, don't worry. I just need to do one more thing before we go. Get your drink, okay?"
When you left the table to go to the toilet, you didn't take your bag or phone with you. Why would you do that? And while Mereoleona was getting her drink, a message arrives on your phone. Because it was on the table, she notices it vibrating.
In any other situation, this would not bother her. But she saw the sender's name on the screen: Yami.
She still sees him as some kind of threat. The way he and you spoke to each other. The intimacy between you... She just doesn't like him. So... She dares to look at your Lookscreen.
"Hey (Y/N), about that date you suggested the other day. Please..."
"Date? And she's the one who suggested it?" Her heart starts to beat faster. "She's my prey - not his. What are you doing, sweetheart?"
"Oh! Yami has thought about it."
Shocked and surprised, Mereoleona spins around, your phone still in her hands. But you don't mind, you just open the screen by putting your finger on the fingerprint sensor.
Now she can read the whole message from your friend. He just wanted to know the name of your favourite restaurant to make a reservation for Christmas Eve.
"Finally - he wants to ask Charlotte out on a date."
Mereoleona makes a sign of relive and leans her head against your arm.
"You can answer him if you want," you tell her.
"Better do it yourself," she hands you your phone. "I'd write him anything but the name of the restaurant."
"Don't tell me you're still jealous?"
In reply, Mereoleona sits up and crosses her arms. Her gaze wanders out of the window. It is still snowing outside.
"Come on - he is a friend I have known since childhood and he has a crush on Charlotte and besides; he is a man." You wrap a hand around her and plant a kiss on her head. "Dummy. You don't have to worry about him. No more than about Charmy or Vanessa. You are the only one for me."
She turns again and looks at you. Still a little uncertain.
"You can believe me, Mereo. I am not the type to lie to someone." Again you plant a kiss on her hair, before you get your jacket and bag, and the other bag with the early Christmas present from Vanessa; of course she made you a wrist band. But one in the striking colour Crimson Red.
You put it on and smile at her. She seems mollified. At least for now.
"All right, sweetheart. Let's go home."
2 notes · View notes