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carmenized-onions · 11 months ago

Text

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

��Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

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

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creaseevans · 3 months ago

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen Headcanons - Toji Fushiguro

Toji's the kind of guy...

SFW:

Toji’s the type of guy to take his time to ask you out. He’s not in a hurry and he’s exactly confident enough to know that he’s caught your eye, and that you won’t be looking away anytime soon.

You should know that if there’s a first date, there’s about to be many more. He doesn’t do this a lot. “Dating” is too much fucking time and energy—but you? You’re quite the hidden gem, found by him and worth your weight in gold and diamonds. He’s willing to try it a little while.

Toji’s the kind of guy to eat his burger in two to three bites, max. He’s got a large (and perfect) bite, like the human edition of a shark. He can fit an entire slice of large pizza in his mouth at once. Killer jawline, too. He knows how good he looks when he eats, even if it’s messy and unmannered.

Toji’s not a jealous guy, because he’s way too secure with himself. But he is human, so it does happen from time to time. Shockingly, though, his jealousy isn’t sparked by obvious things like if someone touches you or catcalls you; he finds these hilarious, because he can just pull you into his side possessively and push the perpetrator (a bit too rough, at times) and snark something like “In your dreams, bud” or “Keep on wishing.” What does get him are simple, little things, like if a guy says something and you laugh too hard at it, or you listen too carefully to what they have to say. “So, what was so funny about what he said?” he’ll ask you, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “You know he’s a fuckin’ dork, right? He’s a loser.” Your co-worker once complimented your hairstyle in front of him (you’d clipped it up into an elegant twist) and Toji noticed you wore the style a few more times, taking a moment to admire it in the mirror. He wouldn’t let you put it up like that anymore. He got rid of the claw clip you needed for it while you weren’t home.

Toji’s the kind of guy to pretend not to know what something is just so he doesn’t have to buy it. You once spent an hour explaining to him and showing him what contact lenses are, and he kept playing stupid. “I just don’t understand what you’re talking about. There’s no such thing. I’m just gonna stick to these.”

“These” are reading glasses (he’s in his forties), but he doesn’t like to wear them around you because he hates how nerdy they look. You think they’re incredibly sexy and give him that sophisticated edge he usually skips out on.

Toji’s the kind of guy that hasn’t had a real haircut in ages. Anytime his hair is getting in his eyes he just takes a straight razor and shaves it down so long as it’s not touching his eyes anymore. When you first met him, he nearly had a mullet because the back was so neglected. You take him for haircuts now.

He’s the kind of guy that HATES tipping. You once tipped at a restaurant and he looked at you accusingly. “Why would you tip them $10? You could’ve given me that money for coffee on my way to work.”

Toji doesn’t buy you flowers (he won’t spend the money on a $28 bouquet). But if you both pass by somewhere that has flowers growing, he will rip them out to give to you. Especially if it’s off someone’s lawn. He likes to do it out of spite.

Toji doesn’t remember your birth date or anniversaries, but he does remember things like your food allergies and aversions, your favourite treats, what kind of music and movies you like, and your pet peeves. He stopped using certain slurs when he learned you didn’t approve of it. Taught his friends to stop using them, too.

Toji doesn’t have a wallet. He just stuffs everything free-reign into his pockets. You get him one for his birthday. He leaves it at home all the time. “This is why I just put everything in my pockets.”

Yeah, you moved in together pretty fast. He didn’t ask and neither did you. It just sort of happened. You guys went into a random building to “look around” (fuck in the elevators) and stumbled into an open house for one of the apartments. You live in it together now, and Toji pays 65% of the rent, which is a huge surprise because…(see next).

Toji cannot stay at one job long enough to save his life. He’s never made it past probation; the longest he stuck it out was 11 days. His resume looks like a shopping receipt, but he just can’t stand the whole bit: the office environment, the cubicles, the staff that never shut the fuck up, the constant meetings and team building exercises, signing a new birthday card every week AND tucking a bill of money into the envelope?? FUCK! He always quits before the week is up. He’ll come home and make up some excuse about being fired (he’s never been fired) and ask you to find some more job adverts for him. “This is gonna be the one, babe. I promise,” he says every time he starts somewhere new. You know it won’t be.

For the horrifying inventory of knives, blades, axes, hatchets, clubs, stars and a fucking firearm you discovered in one of the unopened boxes hidden deep into a closet (he shrugged that they were from a “past job”), Toji’s the sort of guy who’s scared of needles. Don’t talk to him about tattoos or nothing. Don’t you dare bring up vaccinations. He’ll pass out on the way to the clinic.

He doesn’t like his spine to be touched directly. It’s overstimulating and he’s quick to catch your hands when you try. Sometimes he can squeeze a bit too hard when he’s caught off guard.

Toji claims to not need deodorant. (He does need it.)

Toji doesn’t do his own laundry. One day, in the thick of a Bad Bitch episode, you put your foot down about it and told him to clean his own clothes. You then came home to him washing t-shirts and pants in the bathtub with your expensive skincare products. He used up about $300s’ worth of cleansers and scrubs in less than an hour. “I told you I’m not good at this shit!” he whined, having the audacity to play innocent.

Toji teases you all the time about how he’s going to break your heart. Deep down, he believes that upon growing sick of his antics, you’ll actually be the one to break his; something he didn’t think he was capable of experiencing anymore. You don’t get sick of him, nor do you break his heart.

NSFW:

He takes his time to eye-fuck you, shamelessly and offensively, makes it obvious what he’s doing and leers wide when you scowl at him. He loves to show off his big, perfect teeth and wicked smile.

He’s the type of guy where when he finally does ask you out, he tells you exactly what to wear (“your littlest dress and heels”) and picks you up a few minutes late (he loves how pouty you get after waiting and almost thinking he’s about to blow you off).

Toji’s the kind of guy to not care about being caught in public. He’ll start touching you anywhere, and he doesn’t care if it’s the first date. His fingers were already dancing on your knee and making the journey up your thigh during the car ride over. More than once, you pried his warm hand away with both of your own to hold it affectionately in your lap, your shiny eyes smiling so hard that he let you get away with being prudish about it. You missed the heat of his touch on your body right away.

He takes you to the club, buys you a couple of drinks, just enough to get you hazy and charmed. Then he takes you to the middle of the floor, and surrounded by dozens of bodies, he slinks up against you from behind to start muttering in your ear about “Why did you wear this dress? Tell me why you wore this,” while his gigantic, wandering hands grope your hips and crush them to the bone, grinding your ass back against his bricked up crotch. “Did you want me to touch you? You wanted me to do this to you, didn’t you?” As if you decided any of this.

Toji loves foreplay, for you especially. He likes to play with your tits when he knows people are looking, but the room is just dark enough and just clouded enough with smoke and machine-generated fog that nobody will actually see him rolling your nipples between the roughened pads of his fingers, your front against the wall and his front against your back. He cages you in on every side, protecting you from the world with his blanket of a body while also putting you on display every chance he gets. Your little sighs and protests of “No, Toji, stop! Someone’s gonna see,” are so precious to him. He knows someone is going to see, because someone is always looking at you. That’s the point: everyone is looking at you, but you’re only looking at and thinking of him.

He’s a narrator, surprisingly enough: everything he does to you, he describes it in your ear to the greatest extent possible. “Look how hard your nipples are getting when I tease them like this…Jesus, they’re getting so big. You never told me your tits were so soft and pretty. What if I suck on them right now? What if I sucked so hard that milk came out of them, baby? Would you let me do that?”

His favourite part of your body is your tits (see above) but your ass is a very close second. He grabs it, squeezes it, holds it, and smacks it every time you’re within reach. He wants to leave the outline of his hand on your cheek like a stencil so he can target the exact same perfect spot each time.

Toji’s the kind of guy to finger you just for fun. Whether he gets to come or not is out of the question, because watching you shake and tremble while you fuck yourself on his long, thick, knuckly digits is always a blockbuster delight. Feeling you clench up around them, periodically tighter and more delicious, is a gloat to his ego and fascination. Your delicate moans and whimpers while you spill over his palm and down his wrist is like a porno on repeat in the back of his mind, every minute of every day. And he shames you with his descriptions of it every time, because—again—he loves to narrate. “Aw, your lips are swallowing my fingers, sweetheart. Look at your pretty little pussy fluttering and pulsating while I finger you—you’re so fucking wet, princess. Why’re you so wet, hmm? You’re such a cocktease, you know that? Clenching like that, gripping me in so fucking hard—you gonna suck my cock in like that? Your pussy better sing and clench for my cock just like this, baby, just like how it is for my fingers, or I’m gonna be so upset…you don’t know what happens when my dick gets angry, do you?”

(Toji’s the kind of guy to hate condoms. He won’t wear them. Doesn’t matter what you say; don’t bother. He’ll get tested and show you that he’s clean, and he’ll (find a way to) pay for your contraceptives or Plan Bs. But he won’t wear a condom.)

He quite literally has the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. Not just in person, and not just from the fair amount of porn you’ve watched—he has the biggest dick you have ever seen. There are no arguments there. It’s a menacing thing, nearly the length of your forearm and the girth as thick as (if not more than) your wrist. He’s cut (he’s older; their generation is mostly circumcised) and clean, pubes trimmed to a stubble around the base. The length and balls are free of hair altogether. It’s a tanned colour, like the rest of his skin, but his tip is more warm toned and full of blood flow while the sac underneath is a touch darker with discolouration. His precum is translucent, almost clear (see below) and his boner looks sore to the touch.

Toji fucks. He fuuuuucks. He fucks you in positions you’ve never heard of, at angles and depths you didn’t know were possible. He actually rearranges your guts, moving everything aside to make room for himself, letting you know how deep he is when he places a hand against your navel and pushes in against the poke of his head. He loves the raspy gasp you let out when he does that. “How’s a little thing like you taking me in so deep, huh? I bet I’m hurting my little girl. I bet you never want me to stop.” You don’t, even though you always experience aftershocks and cramps when you’re done being ravaged. You don’t tell him this because the experience itself is too mesmerizing while it’s happening in real time. You also don’t tell him because deep down, you suspect that he doesn’t actually care about you enough to empathize with your pain or struggles.

He’s the kind of guy to always come inside you, no matter what. Whether it’s in your mouth or in the warm, slick confines of your lower chambers, he always finishes inside you. He doesn’t ask you if he can—and it’s not like he wouldn’t if you told him not to. He’s gonna do it anyways. His seed belongs inside of you, and there’s nothing that makes his head spin the way it does when he delivers every last drop of his offering deep into you, hoping it becomes part of you forever. He also loves watching it ooze out of you, though, and knowing he gave you more than enough to get the job done.

Oh, yeah, he wants to impregnate you. Big time. He relics the idea of his perfect genetic sequence being passed on to as many as possible. There should be miniature multiples of him running around all over the place. He used to donate sperm for cash flow All The Time in the past. He hopes to run into any potential kids he may have had/made one day, though he hopes it’s just a casual meet and greet and not, like, “Hey, I need to depend on you.” Cause he’s donated, like, A LOT of sperm, and he does not have the kind of riches it would take to sponsor almost a hundred kids.

Something about Toji screams that he wouldn’t mind sharing you with someone he trusts. He just gives off a threesome vibe, and you felt it since day one. It echoed every time he put you in a vulnerable position in public, in the way he smirked and laughed whenever men would hit on you or check you out. He “joked” with you about it a couple of times, too. “I wonder how pretty you’d look with two cocks inside of you.” “You can tell me if you want more, y’know. I don’t get offended. I know you love me too much.” He quickly laughed it off when you frowned and swatted him away. But then you met his friend—his best friend—Shiu Kong, and you knew Toji was up to something from the first moment he left you alone with him. You did end up having a threesome. You ended up having many more, in fact. And he was right: you did love him too much to think about anyone else once it was all done.

#jujutsu kaisen #headcanon #jjk #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fluff #smut

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hiddenzev · 7 months ago

Text

Second Confession: Part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of the confession

Chapter Warnings - Angst, One-sided love, Unrequited Love, Idiots in Love, (let me know if i missed anything)

WC: 5.4K

series masterlist , AO3

A/N: Sorry for the late update, something terrible happened during the week which put me out of the writing momentum I was in. Love all the comments that you guys left and I appreciate it a lot. Hope yall love this chapter as well because I don't know how to feel about it really because my imagination just runs wild sometimes and it kinda went off the rails here. Thank you! <3

You slam the door to your house shut and went up to your bedroom. You throw yourself on the bed and bury your face in the pillow, crying your eyes out. His words are replaying in your head.

“Without them, you’re just another person in Jackson that I don’t give a fuck about”

“We’re in the apocalypse and you’re out here telling me about your little crush on me”

“I thought you’re better than this”

You didn’t expect for it to be this painful. You were up all night tossing and turning in your bed, replaying the whole scene in your head. Not only that, you don’t know how to face him after this. It’s going to be real awkward from here on out. The depressing night ended with you falling asleep for only 2 hours after all that crying.

Awkward tension filled the breakfast table the next day. Only sound of chewing and the utensils hitting the plates can be heard. It’s obvious that you had a rough night. You woke up with swollen eyes and dried tears all over your face. You were so emotionally wrecked and you were conflicted whether to show up for breakfast or not. However, your pride does not allow you to miss the breakfast and allow Joel to think that he got the best of you. You did not expect to yearn for sunglasses so much in the apocalypse.

Ellie had been glancing at you since you sat down at the table. You had your hair covering half of your face to hide your red swollen eyes. She looks over to Tommy and Maria to see whether they will say anything about it but they are clearly giving you some space and time if you needed to talk about it yourself. Ellie couldn’t handle it anymore as expected from her impatience.

“Have you been crying?” She genuinely asks you.

You know she meant well and she didn’t know what happened last night but you just wished that she would not bring it up at the table. You see a glimpse of Joel out of the corner of your eyes turning his head slowly to look at you. You tried to hide more of your face by staring down at your food.

“No. Just had an allergic reaction this morning, It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You said in a calm tone to hide your embarrassment.

“Oh, I didn’t know you have an allergy,” she asks curiously.

“Yeah I have a dust allergy, it’s minor, really, that’s why I didn’t bother telling anyone about it,” you do actually have the allergy but you just lied to cover up the real reason you have those eyes during breakfast.

Everyone just quietly finish their breakfast after that before parting ways for their own respective duties. You can tell from their concerned faces that they wanted to talk more with you but they let it go for now. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to face Joel for any of the duties that day. You take that opportunity to distract yourself with your duties to ensure that your thoughts are more rational and that you are not high on emotions like before.

For the next couple of days, you focus on doing the things you like so that your thoughts don’t stray away to Joel. You catch up on reading again which you have stopped for a few weeks prior due to your overwhelming thoughts of Joel. You busied yourself with more chores and did extra hours of shift duties. Certain things in your house reminds you of him like your wood carvings and your collection of items that you saved for him. You put those away out of your sight to help you out.

You try to tune out the sound of the guitar when he’s playing it which strangely, he’s been playing it every night recently and for much longer than usual. It makes you fall asleep peacefully with thoughts of him before you close your eyes and even after you wake up in the morning. It’s difficult to just stop thinking about someone that you were so obsessed about for a long time but you hope it will go away gradually as time passes by.

Eventually, everyone in the circle (basically just Tommy, Ellie and Maria) knew about what happened. They knew something was up when your eyes don’t light up as it used to when Joel is mentioned. Also, you can’t lie for shit. You were awkward and stuttering when they ask you about Joel.

You told them everything that happened that night as best as you could remember. Your good heart tried to defend some of what Joel said that you thought were true and they scolded you for it saying you must have lost your mind. Yes, he could be nicer to you but you can’t deny that you took that risk knowing he’s going to be mean. But whatever. You can’t change what happened. Needless to say, they were so mad at Joel for how he had rejected you. They don’t blame him for not reciprocating your feelings but they were hoping he could be gentle about it. You don’t know if they confronted him after that and you couldn’t care less at that time.

The day that you are dreading has come to haunt you. It’s patrol day with the person that broke your heart. You wake up earlier than your usual patrol day to ready yourself to spend almost half of the day with Joel since that painful conversation. You remind yourself to stay strong and just focus on the important tasks that you need to do. You don’t want to be weak in front of him and give him the upper hand.

The time comes for you to make your way to the ranch. You lock your door and as usual, has to walk down the street, passing by Joel’s house. What you didn’t expect is to see him getting out of the house as you pass by. He would have already been at the ranch by now normally. You are slightly annoyed and panicking knowing he’s going to be walking behind you this morning. You don’t like that he’s going to be eyeing you and you don’t want to know what he’s thinking about.

Usually the quiet streets in the early morning is very serene to you but now it's torturing to be able to hear his footsteps faintly behind you. You walk slightly faster than usual to quickly end this misery. Thankfully, you reach the ranch with no complications. You quickly busy yourself with checking your horse and make sure everything is set and ready to go. You barely look at Joel to see what he is up to until the both of you make your way to the gates.

He's leading the way as always and he looks back at you to see if you're ready to go. You stare at him with a cold look in your eyes before giving him a stiff nod reluctantly. His eyes linger on your face before he turns to ride out of the gates.

The tension is the same as the first patrol with him or maybe even higher. The other patrols after the first, were full of you rambling and cracking jokes to fill the silence with him giving you an annoyed look. Different than those days, you do not bother to ease the tension.

The landscape is bathing in the warm glow of the rising sun. The rich scent of nature surrounding the both of you hits you strongly. Unlike the relationship between you and Joel, the sounds of nature are peaceful and has a harmonious symphony.

Joel who is leading the way, steals some glances at you time to time. You try not to be affected by it.

“We’ll stop by the cabin soon.” He states in his husky voice without looking back at you.

You do not reply to what he said knowing there’s no use of it. After a short travel, the cabin comes to sight in a distance. Both of you get off of the horses and check the surroundings before tying the horses to a nearby, sturdy tree. You follow Joel to get in the cabin. Both of you check everything that is needed to be checked before agreeing to have a short break.

You sit at one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end. You take out the lunch and drink that you packed from your bag. You fill up your stomach as you lean back on the sofa. Joel eats his sandwich in silence with his arms on his knees. Halfway through your meal, he speaks unexpectedly surprising you.

“Did you have a good sleep?” He asks while chewing on his food.

You turned your head to look at him, not believing what you just heard. He don’t make small talk at all, not once to you, so you are wondering why he’s acting like this all of a sudden.

“Yeah.” You replied him with a questioning tone, not used to him asking you something personal.

He keeps his eyes on the sandwich he’s holding and nods his head after hearing what you said. You take this chance to see whether he will answer you.

“How about you?” You mumble in a low voice, not sure how he would respond.

“Not bad.” He murmurs, still eating his food.

You stare at him for a moment, taking in this rare moment of him being somewhat calm with you. With his patchy salt and pepper beard, a nose that you believe to be specifically sculpted by God, curls that makes you want to tangle your hands in, it makes the walls that you built for the past couple of days to crumble down just by looking at him. It’s so unfair that you still have a soft spot for him in your heart and you’re afraid that any little thing that he do will make you forgive him.

You finishes your meal and lean your head back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. You hear the sound of him storing his food back into his bag before you feel him move slightly through the sofa. In the meantime, you just study the ceiling while everything else just fades in the background. You find the room is silent after getting out of the trance that you were in.

You look to your side to see Joel is staring at you. Has he been staring at you the whole time? Your eyes connect for a few seconds before he look down at his hands. Your heart stupidly starts to beat faster knowing he was staring at you intently. Your body betrays you by blushing a little from his gaze.

He licks his lips nervously while looking everywhere else but you. You sit up feeling the nervousness that he is portraying. You look at him waiting as he seems to want to say something.

“Umm…about what you said the other night…” he fiddles with his hands nervously.

He is having trouble to say what he wants and keeps glancing around. You try to save him the trouble by speaking up, wanting to get over this awkward conversation.

“It’s fine. Just forget about it. If it makes you uncomfortable, let’s just pretend that never happened.” You suggests while looking out the window, away from Joel’s side. It hurts a little for you to say that but you think it’s better this way.

You stands up to dust off your pants before picking up your bag to get out of the cabin and continue your shift duty.

“Let’s go.” You said coldly, making your way out to the horses.

Joel just observes you from a distance with pressed lips and doesn’t say anything to object what you have just said. He ponders for awhile before joining you. You carry on the patrol with much more focus and not bring up any personal topic to him.

Needless to say, the patrol ended with no complications and you did so much better than you expected. At least, you don’t think you made yourself look like a fool still wanting him. Thankfully, he didn’t talk about it after that as well.

After the patrol, Joel is at Tipsy Bison, sitting alone at a booth in the corner. He observes everyone in the bar just having a good time. There are a few couples in there swaying along to the music at the opposite end of the bar. The way they look at each other with so much love in their eyes makes Joel feel envious of them. He does not think that anyone would look at him that way in the apocalypse. He does not think that he deserves it after everything that he’s been through.

That is why when you confessed to him that night, he was taken aback and pushed you away because he doesn’t believe that you knew him enough to truly like him for who he is. He also doesn’t think of you more than an acquaintance of Tommy and Ellie. To hear your confession, altered his brain completely. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be feeling.

As he is thinking about you, Tommy comes into the bar and looks for Joel. He makes his way to him after spotting him in his usual corner. Tommy slides into the booth on the opposite side of Joel.

“She’s not coming. Said she wants to be alone for tonight.” Tommy sighs heavily, leaning back while scrutinizing Joel.

Joel just gives a short grunt in reply while munching on some nuts on the table. Tommy hesitantly brings up what’s happening between you and him and leans forward on the table.

“Are you really gonna keep this up with her?” Tommy asks Joel, eyebrows scrunching.

“Keep what up?” Joel looks up at Tommy with a huge frown on his face.

“Well you know, being an asshole,” Tommy added.

“You think I’m supposed to accept her or something?” Joel staring at Tommy with questioning look on his face.

Tommy just shrugs casually.

“That’s ridiculous. I don’t have feelings for her at all and you, of all people should know that I’m not looking for anything in this fucked up world.” Joel gives his reason to Tommy. He’s tired of explaining himself to his brother.

“I get it but you could have let her down gently instead of being rude to her.” Tommy countered with a dull look at his face.

He’s angry to see you heartbroken by his cold hearted brother. He cherish you a lot as a friend and wants the best for you. He can’t help it that you fell for his brother that doesn’t see love as the way you do.

Joel has nothing to say to that. He agrees that he was mean to you. He was not thinking straight at that time and was overwhelmed with so much feelings that he don’t understand. He did reflected on his words and actions after that and it was bothering him still.

“She was not even expecting anything from you but to just listen to what she had to say,” Tommy continues to explain your intention.

“What good does that do to me?” Joel answers with irritation.

Tommy shakes his head slowly before talking again.

“She genuinely cares about you, brother.” He said with a low voice, his eyes not wavering while looking at Joel.

“All of us sees how she looks and acts around you. I bet that you have your own suspicions as well because only a damn fool wouldn’t see it. You don’t want to lose someone that really cares about you in the apocalypse. Especially not her. Maybe she could help you feel a little joy in this, like you said, fucked up world. If you need some proof, just look at me and Maria.” Tommy tries to convince him.

Joel breaks eye contact with Tommy and sips his drink before looking at everyone in the bar. Most of the people here are smiling and laughing even when they know the situation that they are in.

“I know some people that are interested in her. They’ve been asking me about her for awhile.” Tommy picks up a few nuts in his hands before throwing it in the air and catching it with his mouth.

Joel shifts his eyes back to Tommy after hearing that. His eyes slightly widen than before with a certain glint in his eyes prompting Tommy to explain more.

“She’s been on her own for a long time and I know she’s been feeling lonely. It might do her some good if I introduce her to someone that she could make a new friend with.” Tommy continues to talk while snacking on the nuts.

“If you really want her, i suggest you get your act together and do something about it before it’s too late. What’s the point of living if you’re not really living it,” Tommy raises his eyebrows at Joel.

Joel clenches his jaw thinking about you looking at another man like how you used to look at him. He doesn’t know why his anger is rising just thinking about it.

Tommy stands up to the side of the table before placing his hand on Joel’s shoulder, squeezing it a little.

“I better get going to my wife. I’ll see you around.” He winks at Joel before going.

Joel’s eyes follow Tommy until he is out of sight. He sits there for a moment thinking about what Tommy said before making his way back home.

On the way back home, his head is filled with the thoughts of you. How he first met you, the way you blush when he's near you, how you look at him with sparkles in you eyes, basically everything about you.

However, the patrol earlier with you was different. You were giving him the cold shoulder and didn't act as you usually were. You did not yap about what you like or don't like, not even the weather, like you usually does. It bothers him that he kind of want to hear your cheery voice instead of your deafening silence.

As he is busy in his own thoughts, he didn't realise that he's reaching his house. In a distance, he could see that your bedroom is emitting soft and warm light. He stops right at his house, looking at the direction of your house. For the first time, he wonders what you are up to.

He turns to walk into his house and the memories of what happened that night came rushing back again. Ever since that night, he's reminded of what happened every time he passes by it.

After dropping your gift on the ground and shutting the door on you that night, he hovered behind the door, processing what just happened. He moved to the window near the door and took a peek behind the curtains. He saw that you were staring at your gift right below you with your fists clenched by your sides. While he was feeling bad, seeing you crushed like that, he didn't expect to see you throw the gift at his door angrily before stomping off. It's the first time he saw you that angry.

He opened his door after making sure that you are already in your house. He took your gift inside and sat on his sofa to open it. It's his first time opening a gift from someone after the outbreak except when Ellie gave him one couple months ago.

He opened the small package slowly and froze seeing the contents in it. He took the beautiful horse chess piece and brought it up close to his face to observe it. There were your initials in small letters at the bottom of the piece, indicating that you carved it yourself. He was mesmerised and lost in the details of the piece before remembering the other contents in the package. He placed the chess piece on the small coffee table in front of him carefully.

He took out the small guitar pick that says 'I pick you' on it. He scoffed with a small smile on his face thinking this was corny but cute. He knows Ellie would find this funny because of her lame jokes. He realised that you must have heard him play his guitar at nights. He didn't know that you could listen from that far away.

Lastly, he opened the letter that you wrote for him.

'Dear Joel,

Firstly, I'm sorry to take you by surprise and I feel like the only way I can tell you how I truly feel about you is by writing this. Joel, you caught my eyes ever since you came in here and no one else really matters as much as you matters to me (except for Ellie, Tommy and Maria of course).

It's getting tough for me to keep these feelings hidden away from you so that is why I want to get it out of my chest. I know that your grumpy ass might think it's silly but my feelings are real, Joel. My heart beats faster just by thinking about you and you don't even want to know how it's like to be near you. There's not a single day which I don't think of you. I see you in my head before I go to sleep at night and after I wake up in the morning.

You may think it is selfish of me to be doing this, yes, I don't deny that. I'd rather be selfish than regretting not telling you the truth. I'm not expecting you to return the same feelings for me. I'm not asking you to be my lover or whatsoever. I just want us to be friends. It's fine if you don't want to. We'll just be who we are to each other before this.

By the way, I'm giving you a chess piece which I made specially for you. I've heard from Ellie that you got a little chess project that you're working on. It's not much but it did felt pretty good to carve it. I might just start carving as a hobby, as a matter of fact. Also, you probably would already guess why I'm giving you the guitar pick. I've heard you play the guitar sometimes and I do love listening to you play. Picked that one out just for you. Thought you might find it funny. I know Ellie does for sure.

Anyway, those are just my tokens of appreciation for you. Thank you for not making me feel lonely and boring in here. I truly do like you even if you don't believe it.

Cheers,

Your Neighbour'

Joel sighed heavily while leaning back against the sofa. He thought about you putting the effort to write this letter, you being thoughtful of getting him a guitar pick and especially about you taking the time to carve a chess piece specially for him, knowing it is something that he loves doing.

He went to sleep that night with so much guilt of being rude to you earlier. He wished to take back the mean things he said towards you. He doesn't know what to do to make it better. He needs to apologise but his harden self doesn't know how to.

Tonight is game night. The last night of every month, Tommy would gather all of us to have a game night at his house. Everyone is seated in the living room facing each other. You are sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace and Ellie is sitting to your right. Maria is sitting on a sofa chair to your left. Tommy and Joel sits opposite of you on the sofa.

You were playing charades for a few rounds with the group split into two, boys versus girls. Maybe because they are brothers, they were sweeping the rounds with ease. It’s annoying to see Tommy with a smug look as he is winning every round with Joel. He even taunted the girls just to rile them up. Joel on the other hand, looks so nonchalant as usual even when he’s playing and doesn’t even react much when he won.

“Let’s play a new game! I played it with my friends recently and it was kinda fun,” Ellie suggested with an excited look on her face.

“What game?” Tommy moves forward slightly to the edge of the sofa, interested to know about the new game.

“It’s called ‘Never have I ever’.” Ellie introduces the game and explains the rule to everyone.

Once everyone understands how to play, Ellie starts first. Each and everyone of you have a turn stating what you all had never done. One round passes and it’s back to Ellie. You had two of your fingers folded already from previous attacks.

“Never have I ever experience living before the outbreak.” she grins mischievously.

Everyone except Ellie groan and complain about what she had just said.

“That’s sooo cheap,” You narrow your eyes at her while shaking your head slowly.

“What? I had to. I want to the be the last one standing.” She reasons her way out before telling Joel to go next.

“Never have I ever worn high heels.” He said as he looks at you and Maria.

You and Maria folded a finger each, cursing quietly under your breath. Tommy went next causing Joel to fold a finger. Maria has a go for one of Tommy’s.

It is soon your turn and you take a jab at the boys by saying, “Never have I ever have a male sibling.” you cannot contain the small smile on your face after saying that.

You don’t dare to look at Joel so you just keep your gaze on his fingers to see him folding one of it. Tommy curses you and you chuckle softly.

The game continues and mostly everyone have five fingers left except for Ellie who is left with seven. She’s being so ruthless in this game. You cannot expect what she will say each round. Everyone is trying to protect her innocence while she has no filter on and just runs her mouth without thinking twice.

Some of the things she said in the game were, ‘not having a relationship before’ (very mild), ‘never experience sex before’ (okay, chill. Everyone was stunned hearing that from a 15 year old mouth) and in the previous round, ‘never seen her parents before’ (the room totally went silent).

It’s back to her again and the next thing that she said, caught you off guard.

“Never have I ever done any wood carvings.” you glance at her to see that she’s already smirking at you. How did this little shit know about this?

Your eyes can’t help but shifts to Joel and sees that he’s already putting one finger down, leaving him with only three left. He briefly looks at you before looking down at the floor in the middle of the circle. You hesitantly put a finger down and that is obviously not missed by the other two people in the room.

“Oh, you did?” Maria turns her body to you, indicating that you should explain more about it.

“Yeah, I started like a couple months ago,” you give her a short reply and hoping they would move on from this.

“Why didn’t you tell us? You know this man over here does them a lot,” Tommy gives a good grip on Joel’s shoulder and shakes him slightly, “Maybe the both of you could spend some time carving together.”

You and Joel make eye contact for a brief moment. All you can think about is that one chess piece that you made for him. You wonder if he keeps it or he had thrown it away after that night.

Ellie reminds Joel that it’s his turn next but Joel suddenly says that he doesn’t want to play this game anymore and that he wants to go home soon as he is tired. You think that his mood is ruined thinking of the chess piece that you made specially for him. Sadness filled your heart again thinking that he doesn't like it.

Tommy eases up the tension by asking if anyone needs more drinks.

"Me." Ellie said and gets up to squeeze in between Joel and Tommy.

Tommy stands with a groan to get the drinks from the kitchen. Your butt starts to hurt sitting on the hard floor as well so you move to sit on the only available chair beside Joel. Tommy comes back holding drinks on both hands. He hands one over to Ellie before sitting on the arm rest on Maria’s sofa chair. He leans towards Maria and put his arm over her shoulders. They gently smile at each other making you feel slightly jealous of the love that they have.

Tommy turns to you looking as if he just remembered something.

“Hey, you know Emile, right?” He asks.

“Yeah. Always see him in the library. Why?” you asks, not knowing where this is going.

“He’s been asking about you, wondering how you’ve been,” he added.

“Oh, it’s probably because I didn’t visit the library for awhile now.” you shrug your shoulders.

“Guess he misses you, huh” he smirks with one eyebrow raised.

“Nah, what are you talking about? Stop it.” You chuckles softly finding this is ridiculous. Shaking your head, you slump back on the sofa, sighing.

Emile is one of the librarians in the community. He’s been here for almost half a year and he’s been really nice to you. He’s tall, has short and curly dirty blonde hair, striking blue eyes and quite a gentleman. He’s popular among the ladies for being a sweetheart. He will strike up conversations with you every time you go to the library to browse some books or spend some time reading alone there. You can tell he is into books and love to learn about new things even though he’s clumsy at times.

He’s younger than you by a couple of years and you only view him like a little brother all this time. He’s giving a golden retriever energy and it does make you smile sometimes. He reminds you of the feeling of warmth when hanging out with your close friends before the outbreak.

You were sure that he don’t have feelings for you in a romantic way. Maybe you are wrong. You were too busy focusing on Joel to notice anyone else in the vicinity.

“Maybe he likes you,” Ellie chirps in,

“No fucking way,” you dismisses that idea right away.

“What if he does?” Tommy asks you seriously.

“I don’t know?”

“What do you think of him?” Maria asks with a soft smile on her face.

God, you wish you could disappear right there and then. You do not look at Joel’s direction but you can see at the corner of your eyes, his fingers are gripping the arm rest on his side really hard.

“He’s a nice lad. Real sweet,” you say hesitatingly, knowing they might tease you with whatever you will say, “always ask me if I’m doing good every time I see him in the library.”

You glance to your side a little bit and spots Joel’s fingers are scratching the arm rest mindlessly. He’s tapping his foot restlessly and something about that makes you want to comfort him.

You’re tired of the pressure they’re putting on you here and especially with Joel in the presence. However, you think maybe you could use this opportunity to see how he would react. Why is he restless? Is he jealous? Or is he just so repulsed by you?

“Maybe I should visit the library tomorrow and see him.” You casually say that, pretending you are happy with the idea of seeing Emile.

Everyone especially Tommy and Ellie are cheering and howling except for the grumpy old man beside you. He soaks in the moment for a few seconds before getting up of his seat.

“I’m going home.” He says to everyone with a strangled voice.

He storms past right in front of you and you can feel the anger seeping through his body without even touching him. In that moment, you take in his earthy and musky scent as he strides pass you. You almost run after him to check if he’s okay. It’s driving you insane that he still have you wrapped around his little finger and you cannot do anything about it.

Is he angry that you’re going to see Emile tomorrow?

Why would he be angry if he rejected you?

next part

Thank you so much for reading this chapter. I will update the next one within two weeks!! Pinky promise <3

Taglist: @greenwitchfromthewoods @rebeccawinters @cuteanimalmama @rodriguez31 @orcasoul @ashleyfilm

#joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel x reader #the last of us fic

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mrs-explosionn · 2 months ago

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((Obligatory Pinned Intro Post))

Hi there! ✨🤘🏻I’m Catherine and I’m actually entering the Metalocalypse fandom after 13+ years of not really telling anyone! I have other special interests, but I’ll keep the posting dedicated to the Dethklok boys and some original ‘totally metal’ artwork. I draw stuff, listen to music constantly, play a lot of video games, and I’m trying to get back into playing music/singing.

I like to think I am Nathan Explosion’s wife, but I’m trying my hardest not to be weird about it- I’m chill, I swear 😅😅🖤🖤but for real, I’m just here to goof around, post art, and be silly with other Nathan/Dethklok fans, this is a very unserious sanctuary🫶🏻

(Wee bit more about me + the blog under the cut, but a content warning - mental illness, breakups, death mentioned)

I started this blog to cope with the worst breakup of my life after a difficult living situation, and realizing how many years I’ve lost to severe mental illness. I’m normally a pretty private person due to fear but I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am and what I’m doing with my life. I want to share my interests with people and I just want to stop being anxious or embarrassed about things I’m passionate about

I felt really alone when I was younger, at school, at home, and I would watch Metalocalypse and wish the boys were my awesome friends. I did have 2 close friends in high school, but they just kinda ‘didn’t get’ Dethklok, or I just didn’t really have the energy to share.

Well now I’m back for a third hyperfixation go-around and I’m not holding it in anymore📢📢

Not to sound ‘brutal’, but I could (go forth and) die at any point from anything (my allergies, falling pianos, meteors, etc.) and I am just done worrying myself sick, wasting years over things that won’t happen, past trauma that’s not happening anymore, religious anxiety, people I don’t know or people that don’t exist. I want to live and not care what anyone thinks of me. I hope this blog helps me heal.

But yeah, welcome to my cesspool of weirdness! Stay brutal!💀

#metalocalypse #dethklok #nathan explosion #yumeship #artists on tumblr #intro post #mtl fanart #mtl fandom

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deancaspinefest · 2 months ago

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If Only the Cat Could Talk

Author: TwinOne | Artist: golby moon

Posting on Friday March 14

Being a homeless kitten sucks. I was cold, hungry, and barely hanging on. But then Tuna showed up—low, growly voice, warm hands, and absolutely no clue what he was doing. I knew right away I’d hit the jackpot. Now, I’ve got a cozy home, endless food, and a human who thinks he’s in charge (adorable, really). Training him has been my greatest challenge, but I’ve done a fine job. Everything was perfect… until he brought in Salmon. I like this one—deep, steady voice, nice safe smell, excellent chin-scratching technique, and he actually listens to me when I meow. The problem? They were never with me at the same time but seemed to always wish they were. Seriously, how long are these two going to dance around their feelings? I may be a cat, but even I know what’s going on. If these humans don’t claim each other soon, I just might have to take matters into my own paws.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

John took another long sip from his beer. “You’ve been chosen, son. Looks like you’re the new caretaker. This has ‘cat distribution system’ written all over it.”

Dean, still stunned, looked down at the tiny furball in his lap. It seemed utterly at home, kneading the fabric of his jeans as if it had done this a thousand times.

“I swear, this cat’s got better moves than I do,” Dean muttered. “He’s already got me wrapped around his ugly little paw.” The kitten was even dirtier than the day before, leaves and dirt were clumped on his fur, making his bright yellow eyes stand out when he looked up at Dean.

John chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, at least you won’t have to worry about being alone in this house anymore.” The kitten gave an exaggerated yawn, stretched out, and settled in for what looked like a very long nap, completely uninterested in anything but its new domain.

“It’s disappointing that he’s going to have to stay outside, though,” Dean sighed, hands still in the air.

“What do you mean?” John asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“What do you mean, ‘What do I mean’?” Dean narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “I am allergic to cats. That’s why we never had one growing up, right?”

John grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, you were allergic. That’s the story I told you, wasn’t it?”

“You did,” Dean confirmed, then turned back to stare accusingly at his Dad. “Are you saying I’m not?”

John leaned over to whisper conspiratorially. “I totally made it up.”

“What the hell Dad.” Dean pushed John away and then looked down at the kitten finally giving in to the urge to pet him. “You know, I’ve always had some doubts. I mean, I’d never actually broken out in hives or anything… But hey, I trusted you. You told me I’d get all sneezy and itchy, so I just… well, I avoided cats.”

John let out a deep laugh, almost snorting into his beer. “Oh, come on. You weren’t allergic—I just didn’t want to deal with a cat. You were like, what? Eight? I couldn’t have you getting attached to some cat and then suddenly the thing becomes the ruler of the house. So I made up the allergy story.”

Dean stared at his father, jaw dropping slightly. “Wait, what? So I spent my whole life thinking I was allergic to cats because you didn’t want one in the house?! That’s a crap reason to lie to your oldest son.”

John’s grin widened, and he shrugged. “Hey, I was just trying to keep my own sanity. And look at you now. You’re the one with the kitten in your lap. No allergic reaction, no sneezing. Just a whole lotta cat love.”

Dean stared at the kitten, which was now happily purring and stretching out across his lap, clearly in charge of the situation. “You know, I’m going to be honest with you, Dad,” Dean said slowly, shaking his head. “I think you owe me, like, a whole lot of allergy medicine. And maybe some new furniture when this thing claws everything to shreds.”

Keep reading on Ao3 after Friday March 14 🌲Find more 2025 Pinefest previews here 🌲

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2025 #pinefest previews 2025 #Dean/Cas Pinefest #twinone #golbymoon #CatOwner!Dean #PetSitter!Cas #Fluff and Humor

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etherealmaidenprincess · 2 months ago

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Why I Stopped Chasing

Shadamy/Sonamy

It was a cool winter evening. The moonlight peaked through its phase to give off a bit of a soft gleam. Amy laid in her bed, candles lit, fairy lights gingerly twinkled and calming classical music playing through her headphones. Allergies, possibly a small cold, had really messed her up and she needed the rest. However that wasn’t all that was keeping her down tonight. Physically she felt congested but inside the small flicker of guilt that had lingered for years, gnawed at her gut.

Closing her eyes she didn’t notice the near ominous specks of green light seemingly appear out of nowhere. Growing more and more until a small breeze brushed past her quills, eliciting her to look at where it came from. Considering her window was shut tight for the winter. Upon seeing a familiar red and black silhouette, with a rather obvious green chaos emerald in hand, she slowly lifted her head in confusion.

“S-Shadow?”

“Apologies for barging in without knocking.” His usual demeanor that reminded her of a tuxedo chao, evident whilst putting the gem in his jacket pocket.

“It’s…fine. Why are you here?”

“Your friends are worried and I couldn’t take the insistent, worrisome whining. According to them you haven’t been…yourself lately.”

“Yeah well that’s what happens when one is struggling to breathe due to allergies and a possible cold.” A more sarcastic smile as she gestured to herself and the multiple small tissue boxes on her bedside table. He raised a brow, arms folded that clearly stated he wasn’t convinced this was it.

“What?”

“Is this really what’s bothering you?”

“I mean I couldn’t fake this nor did I want it.” She groaned, laying her head back down.

“You’ve stopped chasing after him.”

Amy blinked, glancing at one of her scented candles. The guilt continued to make her feel so queasy, she hadn’t been able to eat properly for days. Shadow noticed her annoyed and irritated expression instantly vanish to one look he was very familiar with. The pain in her eyes, evident as it was easy to read. But it wasn’t so simple.

“Yeah” She finally spoke with simple and soft acknowledgement. “So what if I did? It’s probably for the best. Not to be rude, Shadow, but why do you care if I do or don’t?” Watching him be the one to look at the same candle before shutting his eyes and giving a more…heartfelt answer than she expected.

“The same reason you reached out to me back when we were enemies.” Amy blinked as memories of her begging and pleading with him to save the earth, that he is more than revenge and that if anything else she would care for him. Gesturing to her bed, he sat down as they just looked at the flickering flame for a bit.

“At first it was out of embarrassment.” She began. “Once I realized that what I was doing was desperate, obsessive and really unhealthy, even if I never meant to do it, I felt…awful. The guilt grew overtime and while I’ve always been reassured and proven that our friendship and my help isn’t a lie, I can’t shake off the past version of me.

There are three things that got so lost in translation. I don’t believe in the whole ‘love at first sight’ bs. At first I thought it was just deep admiration. But I kept getting strong intuitions of us together and those kept getting stronger overtime. Some turned out to be visions. Heck the amount of times I tried using my tarot cards to prove it- and it came true. Though I haven’t in awhile when I learned that it might’ve been wishful thinking on my part.”

“You do have a true gift for reading people as well as your strength.” Pausing, she couldn’t help but have a small smile peak through before continuing.

“I think overtime…I truly have fallen for him naturally. It’s part of why I have backed off.”

“Seems…counterproductive.”

“You know the old saying ‘If you love someone, set them free.’-”

“ ‘If they come back it was meant to be.’ I believe the rest of the saying goes.” Catching her tilted yet admiring expression he coughed and glanced away.

“Maria and I studied much literature when we were on the ARK.” Amy knew she shouldn’t push, but every bit of information he willingly gave about that part of his life, she cherished in her heart.

“My point is this. What I love about him, among many other things, is that drive of freedom, adventure and living in the moment. The thought of being with someone, that traditional idealistic stigma of ‘settling down’ would terrify anyone that doesn’t want that for themselves. I may not always look like it, but that life is so boring to me. It ties into the third point in all of this.”

“You long for that sense of freedom too.” Shadow guessed as it slowly clicked.

“I rather go see the world, go on journies that I can’t always experience back home. Live my life to the fullest. I may not want everything that Sonic does, I am my own person after all, but I wanted him to see that I wouldn’t want him to change, ever. But my actions would seemingly counteract my intentions, even if I tried to talk about my honest truth. Though I will admit, I’m not my best at communicating when I feel so flustered, annoyed and not thinking clearly.”

“Seems pretty clear to me Rose.”

“Yeah well, he’s not here.” She giggled nervously before reaching for a tissue, and hand sanitizer, before turning away.

“So you stopped chasing after him because-?”

“I stopped chasing after him to one, stop being so clingy, two to try and convey that I want him to live his best life as I try to live my own. Three so I can truly ask if this was honestly meant to be or if we have to stay friends, which….I’m okay with.” A brief pause as she wanted to say one more thing that was another reason why. One that had red highlights, can be broody and is sitting her listening to every word she had said. Her heart still yearned for Sonic….but it now also yearned for Shadow’s.

“I think I understand.” Shadow’s voice broke the growing silence. “But…do you still care for him in that way?” Holding out his hand for hers before gently pulling her upright.

“Yes. There is…one other factor but…I can’t say what just yet.” Amy breathed softly as she felt her head being guided to rest on his shoulder.

“Faker truly doesn’t see what’s right in front of him.” The usual annoyance in tone was added in with something else she wasn’t expecting. This level of care seemed so out of character and yet, also felt so right.

“I’ll be okay with that if he never does…I’ll have to be okay with that. Besides, he’ll always make me laugh and will be there to help if needed.” Amy giggled, letting this moment linger a bit before slowly laying herself back down.

“I’ll tell the other’s I’m okay and once fully over all this.” Gesturing to her face, tissue in hand. “I’ll be back for more adventures.”

“I’ll let you rest.” Shadow got up and pulled out the gem. Preparing to go back and let the other’s know she was fine and needed rest.

“Shadow, wait!” Amy called out as he glanced over his shoulder. “Thank you for checking in and hearing me out. I deeply appreciate it.” She smiled as he rolled his eyes before giving a small smirk.

“Anytime, Rose. Chaos Control!” Another flicker of a breeze and she pulled the blankets over herself, drifting back to sleep slowly.

Meanwhile a blue hedgehog unintentionally found himself outside her window, originally preparing to make a visit, but lingered in on the conversation. Heart pounding and a blush against his cheeks.

‘I should’ve known this was much more than what it seemed. Especially since it’s you, sweet Amy.’ Sonic thought before slowly peeking through the window, opening it slightly just to cover her up more with blankets. Running a hand through her quills with a soft smile.

‘You mean so much more to me Ames. One day I’ll make sure you know….soon.'

#sonamy #amy rose #shadamy #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #one shot #writing #fanfic #sonadamy

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poppitron360 · 4 months ago

Text

Lost Trio Week- Day 2: “Mortal AU”

@lost-trio-week

Piper:

Jason (5:00pm): My flight just landed.

Piper (5:02pm): welcome to the city!

Jason (5:02pm): Yeah, well, not ready to explore just yet. Gotta sleep off this jetlag first.

Piper (5:04pm): yh ive got stuff 2 do now

Piper (5:04pm): Im free tomorrow if u wanna tour

Jason (5:04pm): Great! Where should we meet?

Piper (5:10pm): i simply must to take you to this local coffee shop i found.

Piper (5:11pm): the barista is so your type

Jason (5:11pm): Colour me intrigued!

Jason (5:12pm): What’s the address?

��Well, if it isn’t one of my favourite regulars,” the barista nodded at Piper, “How ya been, girl?”

“Hey, Leo!” Piper replied. She gestured to Jason as if she was showing off a prize pig. “I brought a friend!” She announced, “This is Jason.”

Jason stepped forwards and scanned the menu on the chalkboard behind the counter.

“Umm… what’s your tea selection?”

Leo tapped the logo on the price sign, “This is a coffee shop, mi amigo.”

“Are you making fun of my dyslexia?” Jason quipped back.

Leo rolled his eyes, and tapped something on the register screen as he talked. “We do, in fact, sell tea,” he relented.

“What kind?”

He paused his tapping and looked up, “Teas have kinds?”

Jason huffed, “If it’s an option, I’d like Earl Grey, milk, two sugars.”

“Earl Grey? That sounds like a Grandpa drink.”

Piper snorted. “I mean, he’s got a point,” she remarked.

“You’re one to talk, you only drink that overpriced Pumpkin Spiced Latte crap,” Jason countered.

“Well excuse me for enjoying a little seasonal treat!”

Leo clicked his fingers, “Preach, sister!”

They high-fived. Jason rolled his eyes, “Can I just get my tea, please?”

“Yo! Julie!” Leo turned to his co-worker behind him, “Do we sell any Grandpa Tea?”

“I don’t f&^%*ng know, Leo!” Julie snapped, “Do your own f*&$%^ng job!”

Leo turned back and shrugged.

“I’ll have a look in the back for you,” he said, his tone a little more forgiving. Piper saw him snapped at by Julie a lot, “But find a place to sit and wait. You’re holding up my line.”

Leo then went back to nonchalantly tapping at his register, and Jason went to find an empty table while Piper ordered.

Piper found Jason sat in a booth by the window, mindlessly scrolling on his phone. They talked for a while when something caught their attention in the corner of the room.

A TV hang from the ceiling a few booths over. It was playing a news story. The reporter was talking over visuals of a man in a pinstriped suit shaking hands with someone important. Jason immediately blushed and hid his face. The headline scrolling across the screen read: “Politician Gary Jupiter caught in another Sex Scandal.”

“Great,” Jason muttered, “Hi, dad.”

Piper gave him a sympathetic look. Her dad was a disgraced Hollywood movie star, and her mom won Miss America three years running, she knew all about famous parents. She knew all about scandals and controversy. Her family was hit with bankruptcy a few years ago and mostly disappeared from the public eye, but she still had to avoid paparazzi wherever she went.

“I just wish he didn’t have to globally embarrass himself this often!” Jason groaned, “Although, what does it matter? I’ve only met the guy once, and to be honest he’d probably fathered about half the American public. Me and Thalia was just the product of another of his affairs.”

“That sucks, man,” she consoled.

Jason was about to say something else, but Piper quickly shushed him when she saw Leo walking over with a hot cup of steaming something in his hand.

“I got your tea for you,” he said.

“HE WENT TO THE STORE AND BOUGHT SOME!” Came a shout from behind the counter.

“Shut up, Julie!”

“I HAD TO COVER HIS SHIFT SO HE OWES ME!”

“I know, Julie!”

Jason took a sip, “This tastes different from store-bought tea. Did you do anything to it?”

Leo blushed, “I added a little bit of cinnamon. Sorry, I should’ve probably checked with you beforehand- allergies and stuff. They talked our ear off about it in staff training last week. I can take it back if you like-“

“No! No! It’s delicious, thank you.”

Piper smiled.

“Oh… okay…”

“HE SAYS HE THINKS YOU’RE CUTE AND HE WANTS YOUR NUMBER!”

Leo’s cheeks turned the colour of beetroot. He cringed, “Thank you, Julie!”

Julie flipped him the bird from across the room.

Leo didn’t make eye contact with Jason. “That’ll be 2.25,” he muttered in a small voice. Then, more confident, “She was only joking by the way. She likes to mess my life up like that. Ignore her.”

“Oh…” Jason said, his tone rather disappointed. Piper raised an eyebrow.

Leo looked like he was about to leave, but Piper saw how Jason was glancing at Leo out of the corner of his eye. She knew she had to intervene- get these two talking.

“So, Leo,” she said, “What made you come to work here?”

“Oh! Um…” Leo turned around, “I’m only working here ‘til I can scrape together enough dough to buy my own machine shop.”

Piper smiled, coyly, “Oh really?”

“Yeah…”

Stretching out her leg, Piper hooked her foot around a chair from a nearby table and dragged it over next to the booth. She gestured at Leo to sit in it, “Tell us more.”

She caught Jason’s eye and winked. Jason blushed.

Leo looked nervously back at the counter, “I’m going on break, now, Julie!”

“Whatever!”

Leo sat down.

“Why a machine shop?” Piper asked.

“Well… I grew up with machines. I used to help my mom down at her warehouse before it burned down.”

“So you’re good with machines?”

“Oh, sister,” Leo leaned back in his chair, confidently, “I’m the best there is.”

Piper glanced at Jason.

“Machines,” she mouthed. She pointed at her bicep, “Big muscles.”

“Shut up!” Jason mouthed back.

They talked for a while. After some time, Jason finished his tea and ordered another.

Leo had brought them four more rounds of drinks before Julie snapped at him to get back to work.

“Welp,” Leo patted the table, “I really gotta go. See ya, Piper. See ya, Earl.”

‘My name is Jason!”

“Nah. Your name’s Earl. Earl Grey,” Leo gave him a mischievous smile, “You know it’s a barista’s job to get your name horrifically wrong. It’s part of my contract.”

He turned to leave, but before he could, Jason called to him.

“Wait-“

“…yeah?”

Jason was blushing profusely now, “Did-Did you want my number?”

Leo grinned, looking way too happy about the prospect, “Okay!”

Jason grabbed a napkin and a pen and scribbled it down. Leo took it and bounded back to the counter, grinning.

Jason turned back to Piper, “Thank fuck- drank too much tea and now I really gotta pee.”

Jason stayed in the city for a few more weeks. He met with Piper almost every day at the coffee shop.

Leo would come and talk when Julie let him. It was obvious that he was smitten with Jason, and Jason liked him back. Piper had to repeatedly resist the urge to yell “ugh, just kiss already!” multiple times a day.

It was the day before Jason had to leave, and Piper was getting impatient. She was about to do something drastic, when…

“Hey, Piper! Sorry, I actually can’t stay very long. I’m just here to meet Leo- we have a date!”

“OH MY GODDD!!’ Piper, squealed, bouncing up and down, “Fucking FINALLY!!”

“I just need to wait for him to finish his shift-“

Just then, Leo came out of the store cupboard, dressed in a white shirt and suspenders. He ran his hands through his hair, nervously, then hung his apron on a hook.

“…Hi,” Jason said, his mouth open.

“Hi,” Leo replied, “You ready to go?”

“Uhh… yeah. What do you wanna do?”

“Hmm…” Leo scratched his chin, “How about… coffee?”

Jason giggled and blushed. Leo offered Jason his arm and led him out the door.

“Don’t fuck it up, Jase!” Piper teased after him.

“I’m a professional!” Jason countered.

Piper (8:01pm): Babe it finally happened.

Piper (8:01pm): Leo and Jason have a date!!!

Shel (8:02pm): OH

Shel (8:02pm): MY

Shel (8:02pm): GOD

Shel (8:03pm): FINALLY!!!

Piper (8:04pm): IKR!!!

Shel (8:05pm): Tell. Me. EVERYTHING.

Piper (8:10pm): still wating on a call from jason 2 know how it went

Piper (8:11pm): will keep you updated

At 9:30 in the evening, Jason called.

“Hey, Jase. How did your date with Leo go?”

Jason smiled, shyly over the video call, “He’s… really smart. And cute. And short. But, like, in a cute way. It’s a shame my flight leaves tomorrow.”

“Did… did you tell him you were leaving?”

Jason looked down, ashamed, “No, I didn’t. I probably should’ve, it’s just… things were going so well and I didn’t wanna ruin it. But I should tell him.”

They talked for a while about how the date went. She could tell that Jason was hiding something. She hoped he was planning some big gesture. Shel would eat that story up.

“It’s getting late, I’m gonna sign off,” Piper said eventually, turning over on her back and hovering her finger over the hang up button.

“Okay.”

“If you want, I can drive you to the airport?”

“No, it’s fine…” Jason had a faraway look on his face, “I have some… errands I need to run. I’ll see you around.”

Piper tried not to show that she was grinning ear-to-ear, “Alright then. Bye.”

She hung up.

Piper (10:34pm): jason’s planning something i can tell.

Shel (10:35pm): THE DATE WENT WELL??

Piper (10:35pm): SO well.

Piper (10:35pm): Idk what he’s gonna do but ill be there at the coffee shop tomorrow.

Piper (10:36pm): I wanna watch how this plays out

Shel (10:38pm): omigod lmk how it goes!!!!

Jason:

Jason watched the image of Piper’s face blink off the screen.

He took a deep breath, then dialled a different number.

It rang eight times, then went to voicemail.

“Hey dad…? I need a favour.”

Jason walked up to the counter the next day.

“Well if it isn’t Earl!”

Jason smiled, “Can I get-“

“Coming right up,” Leo cut him off, “Milk, two sugars. I know the drill.”

He set about making brewing the kettle.

“Can I take it to go this time?” Jason asked.

Leo paused, and looked up from his work, “You’re… not sticking around?”

“No, I’ve got a flight to catch. In about an hour.”

“A… a flight?” There was sadness in his voice. He looked like he was about to say something- but just then, the kettle made a loud ping!

“Tea’s ready.” Leo wouldn’t meet Jason’s eyes as he poured the boiling water into the heat-proof cup and added the sugar and milk.

“Did you add-“

“A bit of cinnamon. Yup.”

“Thanks,” Jason took the tea, and turned to leave, then stopped and doubled back. “Oh, I almost forgot-“ he took a deep breath, and pulled a the stack of cash out of his pocket, “Your tip.”

The giant wad was almost too much to fit into one hand.

“Wh-Wha-“ Leo spluttered. He reached out tentatively, but pulled his hand away.

“Here, take it,” Jason waved the cash at him.

“H-how much is that…?”

“Easily enough to put a down-payment on a machine shop. Take it.”

Leo’s mouth hung open in shock, “I… I can’t accept this. For one thing, it’s definitely against company policy-“

“Fine, then. Don’t accept it as a tip, but an investment.”

“An… investment?”

“Yes. From a future customer at your shop,” Jason shoved the wad at him, “Look, man, I’m holding up the line and my tea’s getting cold. Do you want the money or not?”

Leo grabbed the money with trembling hands. “Is this for real?”

“Yeah.”

“B-but you’re leaving.”

“I’ll come back.”

“A-and the money’s legit? You’re not, like, committing tax fraud just to give it to me?”

“No, I’m committing tax fraud anyway.”

“Oh…”

“That was a joke. I just called in a few favours. No big deal.”

“Oh!” Leo grinned, “So…”

“Yeah…”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Hey!” Jason beamed at him, “You said my name right!”

“Yeah, that’s because I’m not a barista anymore!” He took off his apron and threw it on the ground, then turned to his co-worker, “Hey Julie! Guess what? I f^%$¡ng quit!”

“What-“

“Addios!”

“But-“

Before Julie could stop him, Leo marched out of the front doors, putting up the finger in her direction as he did so.

“YOU STILL NEED TO PUT IN YOUR TWO WEEK’S NOTICE!!” Julie called, but Leo was out the door.

“What are you doing standing there, doofus?”

Someone had stood up on a table at the back. Jason hadn’t noticed them before. They wore a leopard-print trench-coat and heart-shaped sunglasses, but Jason recognised the voice.

“Piper?? What’re you-“

She shed her elaborate disguise, and stared at him, “You’ve got a flight to catch, right?”

“Yeah, but I-“

“So?! Chase after him!”

“But-“

“Kiss him in the rain!”

Jason glanced out the window, “It’s not raining.”

“Doesn’t matter! Just don’t let him get away!”

Jason looked out at the busy high street. Leo, having doffed his barista’s apron was parading down the sidewalk, his head held high. He looked so cute- so unabashedly himself- that Jason swore in that moment that wasn’t gonna let Leo be the one that got away.

“Jason!! What’re you waiting for?” Piper insisted.

Jason turned to her.

“Piper?”

“Yeah?”

“Hold my tea.”

With that, he was out the door and running. Running down the high street. Running after Leo. Jason hadn’t felt this alive since… since he could remember.

“Leo wait-“ Jason yelled.

The former barista turned in shock to see Jason standing, completely out of breath, in front of him.

“I *wheeze* just wanted to *wheeze* say that *wheeze*-“ he spluttered.

Leo chuckled, “What is it?”

“Hold on… lemme catch my breath…” Jason stood with his hands on his knees and breathing hard, “I just wanted to say that… I’d like to go on another date with you.”

“Yeah that was kind of already implied,” Leo said.

“It… it was?”

“Look you’re leaving town- that’ll complicate things, sure. But we’d already established that you’re coming back. I’ve got your number. You could’ve just called me on the plane if you wanted to keep chatting.”

“…yeah.”

“So… what was this gesture meant to accomplish exactly?”

“That I… I like you, I guess?” Jason said, sheepishly.

Leo laughed, “But I thought we’d already established that, too?”

Jason threw up his hands, “I don’t know! I thought it was romantic. There’s always scenes like these in shitty rom coms on TV. Sue me!”

Leo grinned, “Well, it’s very sweet. But also stupid.”

“Okay, well, I just realised that I never got to say goodbye before I left. Yes- that! Good! I’m going with that.”

“Alright then. Goodbye, Jason. I’ll probably text you in the next half hour.”

“Okay then… bye, I guess.”

Leo walked away.

“Well that was awkward.”

“Gah!” Jason nearly jumped out of his skin. Behind him stood Piper, slurping on an iced latte. She had donned her sunglasses and trench-coat again, and had a big grin on her face. “Geez, I thought you were a professional?”

“That was your idea!”

Piper shrugged, “I’m an agent of chaos. Now you better run or you’re gonna miss your flight. Here’s your tea.”

“More running?” Jason groaned, as he took the cup and sprinted off in the direction of the airport.

— — — — — — — — —

Technically Valgrace and not Lost Trio, but I thought having Piper narrate and orchestrate most of it would even it out.

I’ve never even read a Coffee Shop AU before, let alone written one- could you tell?

Trying to subvert the stupidest romance tropes by just making it as stupidly awkward as possible. This might be unreadably cringe but hey at least I got something out before the deadline!! (And neglected all my irl responsibilities to do so!!)

Still learning how to write mortal AUs- it’s something I find difficult as someone who struggles with existing in real life anyway. I’m loving that this event is taking me out of my comfort zone and getting me to write in a style I wouldn’t usually write in. I can’t wait to see y’all’s responses when I get back from Hiatus.

Btw, Julie is a reference to Julie Powers from the Scott Pilgrim movie/show/graphic novels (played by Aubrey Plaza). There’s actually a lot of subtle references/homages to my favourite things in this fic.

I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll see y’all tomorrow for the next prompt!!

@euryvices-deactivated20241019 @deciduowl @lavenderfairiez @ottpopfic @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @demigod-shenanigans @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @123letsgobestie @kaleidoskuls @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom @thetourturedwritersclub @m-for-now

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 3 months ago

Note

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114 for ⚖️:

---

He didn’t mean to do anything. He was sold the body. He had no idea. He didn’t go looking for trouble. He didn’t know anything ahead of time. His worst crime, really, was being overzealous for Halloween. If this whole thing has been about giving people back the energy they deserve, what the hell did he ever do to deserve this?

As glad as Buck is that he’s been able to secure his loved ones’ futures, he wishes he could go back to a time when he didn’t know any of this existed at all. Ignorance is bliss, or whatever.

Eventually, worked up and exhausted and unable to calm his mind, Buck goes searching through his medicine cabinet. Not for anything disastrous. Just like night time cough medicine or drowsy allergy tablets. Something to help him along. He just needs to sleep. He thinks one, long restful sleep will be good for him. That’s what this must be. The inability to feel relieved from the punishments? It must be sleep deprivation. He’s been overdoing it.

Buck finally finds some Benadryl, and slides a foil sheet of packaging out of the box. This will help, he thinks as he presses his thumb to pop one through its casing. It has to help.

“Oh, sweetheart,” a familiar, smug voice fills the bathroom. “Do you fight fires with a water gun? Because that’s what you’re doing right now?”

Buck nearly drops the gel capsule in surprise. He turns to look at Nemesis. She’s leaning in the doorway, smirking.

“Is something fucking funny?” Buck demands.

She shrugs. “Nothing has truly been funny to me in centuries.”

“That sucks,” Buck replies flatly. “I feel for you, really.”

“Ditch the pills,” she says. “That won’t fix anything. I’ve come to help.”

“Okay, for one, it’s Benadryl. For… Well, second, you ruined everything! I don’t trust your help! This whole thing was a fucking trap!”

“Well, it was an open door you walked through, sure,” Nemesis says.

“Yeah, at the end of the maze you dropped me in!”

“So dramatic,” Nemesis sighs. “I always end up choosing drama queens.”

“Oh, yeah,” Buck scowls. “I’m just overreacting to the destruction of my personal life.”

“You shook on it,” she reminds him.

“What do you want from me?” Buck sighs. “What can I do to make this less painful?”

“Well, it’s sweet that you’re asking,” Nemesis drawls. “But I’m here to tell you that you’re taking on a bigger project. Some fish that need to be fried.”

“And you can’t do it?” He asks.

“That’s what you’re for, kid. Or don’t you get it yet? I don’t want to do these things. But they need to be done, or there’s chaos.”

“So the quota we agreed on is changing, is what you’re telling me?” He asks. “Now I have to go after exactly who you want me to go after?”

She nods. “Or those pretty little futures aren’t guaranteed.”

“Who is it?” Buck asks, feeling snared.

“A few politicians,” she says. “Some operating out of D.C, one out of Florida, and another-”

“What?” Buck demands. “No! I can’t just go jet setting. I have work.”

“Oh,” she nods. “I forgot to tell you. You should probably quit that.”

“Quit?” Buck gapes. “I’m not quitting!”

“Well, really, your schedule isn’t your own anymore,” Nemesis says. “If you were some cute little travel blogger, I’d say, sure, continue. But firefighter? Won’t fly.”

“I can’t do that!” Buck protests. “I won’t!”

“Alright,” she nods. “Then don’t. Go look into one of their futures and spoil the whole thing. I hope you’re comfortable with what you see.”

“I-I can’t do that, either!”

“Those are your two choices,” she says. “Or, there’s a third. Feel like this until it drives you to… Well.”

“This is cruel!” Buck shouts at her.

“You think I care about cruelty? After all I’ve seen?” She laughs. “Even you are beginning to numb to it.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No, I could never-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a key turning in the front door lock. Buck goes rigid. This is horrible timing. There are only two people with his spare key. Eddie and Maddie. He doesn’t want either of them seeing him like this.

#daisies and briars writes #an angry blade fic

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cloveroctobers · 1 year ago

Text

SHOW YOU WHY — EVAN “BUCK” BUCKLEY x READER x 118: [Spring Prompts]

A/N: I’m excited to see what the rest of season 7 brings us! This piece can fit for both Buck (since there’s some hints of a crush between reader + Buck—if you squint!) and the rest of the 118. I’m just thrilled to see them all back on screen so I wanted to include everyone in this.

WARNINGS: gave the gender-neutral reader some background & mentions of a tough upbringing + use of curse words!!!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & I’m using: 3. “Welcome to ~allergies~” + 20. “IT’S SPRINGTIME MUTHA-FUCKERS.”

<- read my previous flop of a spring prompt here.

𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼

Anywhere but here you wanted to be.

You could have gotten out of this too, just like the mayor’s ball back in December but you personally didn’t want to receive an ear-full of a voicemail from your aunt yet again. So you dealt with it (being here on time-except you actually weren’t in your aunt’s eyes) putting in the work to also give “orders” rather than instructions to the workers while she had other hired workers tend to her full attire.

She won a honorary award just last month so she planned on parading that around her birthday party. It wasn’t the smartest move having it right at the entry way of the home, sitting on the center piece of a circular oak table that her great-grandfather built, with party goers but since the spring weather decided to stick in California, your aunt was more than willing to have this gathering out back but not without having most of her guests walk through the front doors first.

The main reason to have this party was for the attendees to constantly compliment the view of the vineyard out back. You already knew your aunt’s (by marriage) game, having the honor of being raised by her from the time you were thirteen. You just wished you could close your eyes, squeeze them really tight to the point that they hurt, and this would be over.

Thankfully an hour into the party, your uncle shows up, rushing in from his work trip out in Finland—don’t ask—brushing his lips against your hairline and giving you a tight side hug before he’s whisked off by his high energy wife of twenty years. That gave you enough time to sneak away from the boring and prying conversations, the set up of trying to date one of the attendees, and hide for a little bit before your cover was blown and you were thrown back into the party of socializing.

Another forty-five minutes pass and you’re getting a text that has you jumping to your feet, swaying a bit before you excuse yourself back into the mediterranean home to greet the guests you’ve been waiting for.

Yanking the door open you yell, “IT’s SPRING TIME MUTHA-FUCKERS! Welcome to my family’s place and I’m so glad you guys could make it.”

Chimney smirks around the chewing of his gum, “can’t say I’ve been greeted like that ever but I’m not complaining! as long as I get to have whatever it is you’ve had.”

You tilt your head to the side at the spikey haired man, “Chim! How many times do I have to tell ya? I’m not a drinker…I’m just spreading all things…spring?”

“I can tell with that outfit.”

A elbow goes to his gut from Maddie while Hen scoffs with a shake of her head at her best friend, who’s now rubbing his torso.

You’re waving the group all in, hugging Athena as she says, “your family has a mighty big house.”

“Yeah, I was just about to say what did they do again?” Eddie is next in embracing you after almost doing a full spin in the entry way, staring up at the high ceilings.

Buck is last to pull you into a hug, lightly rocking you both from side to side while you hold his back, “Can’t believe you grew up here.”

You shrug, “It’s just a house of an Architect and a mayor.”

“You must have had crazy parties here,” Buck is grinning wildly while Eddie is rolling his eyes at him.

“Of course Evan would be the one to think about the parties,” Maddie stares over at her younger brother who’s shameless about his daydreams of what that may have looked like.

You lifted your shoulders, “anyways! Make yourselves comfy but stay away from the Rueger’s—they’re swingers and may try to encourage you into joining their underground society club. A good portion of the people here are uppity but there’s a sprinkle of good ones that you won’t want to kick up the ass.”

“Oh! Say no more, I know exactly who I’m talking to.” Athena shoots a look to Bobby who’s pleading with his eyes to his wife, to just enjoy the party and not interrogate but Athena wouldn’t be Athena if she didn’t go investigate.

Bobby squeezes your shoulder on his way by but keeps his eyes on Athena’s retreating form, “Its good to see you and thanks for the invitation. I’m going to do my best and make sure things don’t erupt into chaos.”

You nod your head, expecting this but let out a sigh although there’s a smile on your lips. Hen takes a step closer to you as you’re now humming, swaying your hands about as if they were floating on water. “Uh, you sure you’re alright? You seem…a little off?”

“What do you mean?” You question, hands moving to float above Hen’s shoulders, almost as if you’re not aware you’re doing this.

This gains the other’s attention as the low haired woman peeks from left to right while you’re making a wave with your hands. “Stop that and hold still.”

“Why? The air never does.”

Which earns a chuckle from Chimney while Hen grips your shoulders, scanning your face and finally focuses on the end of your brow to the lid of your eye.

“Hen, what’s up?” Buck quizzes, eyes steady on you two.

Hen shushes him while she keeps her eyes on you, “how many fingers am I holding up?”

You blink then smile, “two caterpillars,” you speak so matter of factly, ready to spin away from the conversation but Hen is pulling you back by the shoulders.

“Hen—

Chimney tries this time and Maddie is furrowing her brows also confused.

“I think they’re having an allergic reaction.” Hen concludes before directing the rest of her words to you, “your eye area is swelling up and if you didn’t take anything, I’d say you’re also a little disoriented? Maybe even experiencing some brain fog?”

You shrug, “must have been the sea bass or was it trout? that Eitan guy tried to share with me. Whatever, let’s have some fun now that my friends are here.”

You’re dancing now, although it feels like your brain is spinning in slow-motion, yet the outside music is pretty faint.

Buck has his eyes in slits, “who the hell is Eitan?”

“And why was he feeding you?” Eddie added, he didn’t hear any updates about your dating life either and he was sure if it was true, Buck would have been the first to tell him instead.

Maddie stares at the two ridiculous men, “they didn’t say the guy was feeding them.”

Chimney leans towards Hen as her face still holds concern, fingertips lightly pressing on the lymph nodes in your neck which you laugh at the sensation, “Want me to search the house to see what I can find? You don’t think they’re going to stop breathing any time soon do you?”

The way Buck and Eddie snap their attention to the dark haired man’s words; burning their eyes into his frame, makes Chimney realize that it doesn’t hurt to turn down his bluntness some but Hen thinks nothing of it.

“How!” Maddie hisses his name from behind, while Chim holds his hands up to show he has no ill-intent, you were his friend too.

Hen starts, “I don’t think they consumed enough to get to that point but—

“Hey, aren’t you allergic to all things seafood anyway? Why would that jackass give that to you?” Buck interrupts with a cross of his arms, becoming irritated.

Eddie also states, “and why would your tío and tía have that here? Surely they know your health history.”

Maddie also can’t help but to ask in a much more compassionate approach, “How exactly did this happen?”

“I got caught up in the love story Eitan’s ninety year old grandmother was telling me on the right about the love letters she received from her husband in the navy. Eitan’s calling my name from the left to try this and next thing I know, I’m eating fish.” You notify, hoping that answered this test.

Buck scrunches up his nose, “who does this guy think he is? Just spoon feeding you without even knowing your likes, dislikes, and what you can’t have!”

Eddie asserts in agreement as Buck begins to pace now, “I’m sorry but your relatives screwed up.”

“The Tramp too.” Chimney jokes.

You tilt your head to the side while Hen glares and Maddie raises her eyebrows, wanting the man to expand on that.

“Hello! Lady and the tramp anyone? This Eitan guy is obviously the tramp—not your aunt.” Chimney sheepishly smiles, “whew, tough crowd!”

Hen is back to massaging your neck in search of any inflammation while you rant, “Well as auntie Katrina says: you can’t please everyone and sometimes you have to do what you have to do to get to the top. She probably just forgot with all the things on her mind? she was the main one trying to push a love connection between Eitan and I. Also you guys should have seen her earlier. She was all over the place and had to have me take over.” You pull away, coughing into your sleeve, struggling a bit to clear your throat.

The five glance at each other.

You were part of the 118, first somewhat reserved and a little shy rather than closed off but similar to Bobby in a sense when you first joined. It took time to get you to open up, even to Buck who was friendly with everyone. You transferred to the station six months after Buck so he had no issue taking you underneath his wing even if you were complete opposites. It was safe to say that majority of the crew didn’t care for your aunt, simply from the way she spoke to you, and hearing how you tried to sweep the way she treated you growing up away. It was evident verbal abuse but you felt like you owed her something since she stepped in as a mother figure to raise you after the tragedy of losing your own mother.

Part of you knew you shouldn’t feel guilty and that she was the adult who married your biological uncle who was always away—working and that it should have been a given. However when people make you feel like they’re doing you a favor instead of simply caring about you, you just may start to question everything.

Unfortunately, you were the second guesser because of that but not when it came to the field. You became a different person out on the job, quickly thinking and analyzing everything before sprinting into action and that was something the 118 admired.

Maddie and Eddie both share a nod before she speaks, “okay…Eddie and I are going to have a chat with this Eitan guy.”

Buck approved of that although he wouldn’t have minded having a word with Eitan himself, especially if they were all thinking the same thing. Once his eyes flicked back to you after the pair left the room, he noticed the change in your skin gradually and that didn’t sit well with him. So yeah, maybe it was best he stayed behind.

Hen asks you, “Do you have your EpiPen?”

You’re zoning out a bit, eyes disconnecting some but you’re nodding your head as if you’re listening.

So Hen took that as a negative.

“Chim, check the bathrooms for Prednisone or any type of corticosteroid? Even Peppermint oil. If not, try the kitchen for pineapple or even ice just in case.” Hen informs while Chim dips his head before heading off.

Hen smiles as she gently guides you to the stairs which are to the right of the front door, “here, let’s have you sit.”

“But I want to dance!”

“We can do that later,” Buck expresses while following you two, “we just want to make sure you’re okay first and that there’s no funny business going on here.”

Pressing your cheek into your balled up fist you say, “fine…I’ll tell you guys what going on. I’ll come clean.”

Hen and Buck meet each other’s eyes before they peer down at you. Sitting up straight, you exhale and begin to flap your arms like wings, “welcome to…allergies.”

Buck honestly found this a little cute although he didn’t appreciate the increase in size of your brow and eye now but at least you were in good spirits. Even if it seemed like the rest of the 118 were speculating something much more than a simple case of allergies.

“I’m going to move things further along and find the kitchen. Buck, Call out to me if anything changes.” Hen decides before making her exit.

He calls out to her, “You got it.” Then he’s turning back to stand in front of you while you beam up at him, “what’s going on in that field full of daisies of a mind of yours?”

“It’s actually Lillie’s but,” you clear the scratch of your throat again, “I don’t know, I felt kinda anxious being back here but knew I would be okay once you were the first to agree on showing up.”

Buck furrows his brow at the last bit of the sentence, “did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Well…you’ve been busy with Natalia.” You’re blinking your inflamed eye to see if it was tingly or sticky, “Didn’t want to intrude on your quality time.”

“You wouldn’t be, you’re actually one of my best friends and it’s always cool for us to hang out whenever,” Buck replies, “by the way that relationship is over with…and you’ve got that same look on your face as Eddie.”

You actually imagined yourself to look like that one Ryan Gosling gif but only because you were the last to know.

You breathe out a laugh afterwards, “Sheesh! I’m not going to say finally or I told you so because she was super pretty and helped you pick out a couch which was nice and…are you okay?”

Buck chuckles at your mind still wandering all over the place in conversations, “the couch and I are just fine! Thanks for asking.”

You hum, resting your head against the wall.

“So what’s this Eitan guy like?” Buck suddenly probes.

You blink, “think: tall dark and handsome.”

Buck blurts out with a furrow of his brows, “Sasquatch?”

“…if that’s what you’re into.” Laughter bubbles in your voice at the expression on Buck’s face now.

He holds his hands out, “I’m not even going to entertain that.”

“Aw but it’ll be fun.”

Buck plops down beside you, almost taking up a good portion of the uncomfortable steps. He brushes his shoulder against yours and you meet each other’s gaze.

“I’ve missed you, you know?”

Those words right there almost wiped all weird feelings you were having before and after you ate that food. You were never one to think that anyone noticed if you were around or not so hearing Buck say this to you, made you feel warm inside—better even. Somewhat.

“You taking off for a while made sense,” Buck starts with an exhale, “but I didn’t think that time away included spending it with your aunt Kat.”

Buck didn’t hide his dislike of the older woman but out of the respect he had for you, he kept his feelings to himself yet that didn’t mean he didn’t go off about her to Eddie or Maddie when she clearly upset you.

“…Majority of it didn’t.” You answer.

“Where did you go?”

You pointed as if you were mapping it out in the air, “Chicago, then Texas, and back here.”

“…Do I need to know how that was?” he’s pressing his elbows into his knees, getting comfortable right beside you.

He’s told you all about his adventures across the globe, mostly unwarranted but you didn’t mind. You had a sheltered life while your aunt and uncle went all over to see the world thanks to their professions, so you didn’t get out much until you decided to head to the first state you had the deepest connection to. Where your late mother and uncle were born and raised and ultimately where your mother’s life ended.

“All you need to know is that it brought me back home, to the rest of you.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the sound of that.”

You loop an arm with Buck’s and rest your head on his shoulder, “look at us sitting here being nice to each other with our matching marks.”

“I’m always nice and I think mine is cooler.” He says referring to his own strawberry birthmark.

You nuzzle your face against his navy sweater, “You stating your claim on yours being better really defeats the purpose of you being nice.”

“Well, I mean no harm buuut yours is temporary and reminds me of hippo skin.” He’s leaning away, eyes lowered to get a good look at your face up close.

“…Now I see why you and Natalia broke up.”

If chimney was back, you were sure he’d give you some points for roasting Buck back.

“Ouch.” Buck laughs, resting his cheek against your head.

You echo his laugh, “sorry.”

“Don’t be. I can take a joke and Isn’t this season supposed to be about new beginnings or growth or whatever?” Buck was always interested to see the layers of you.

You gasp, “I thought it was the season of allergies.”

Evan hums, “Is that the story you’re sticking with?”

Before you could reply to that Eddie cuts in, “the story actually checks out…you did in fact ingest some sea bass from the nerdy but surprising good looking Eitan. The fish was a little on the salty side so I see why you only had a small piece.”

“A small piece that was enough to have their face looking like hippo skin!” Buck held his hand out underneath your chin to showcase.

Eddie scrunched up his face after taking a look at yours while you slapped the dark blond on his chest, “why would you choose to compare their allergic reaction to that of all things?”

“Why would you give your critiques of a dish you probably don’t even know how to cook?” Buck fired back.

Before they started to bicker, Maddie claps her hands to silence the two men-children and then turns to you with a soft smile, “Eitan also wanted to come over here and apologize but I told him it would best to just wait it out for awhile.”

“Thanks Maddie.” You smile back at the brunette, preferring to be around your friends instead.

“That’s the smartest thing he’s done today.” Buck huffs while Maddie sends him a warning look, to basically knock it off.

Eventually Hen and Chim make their way back but only Hen has items in her hands.

Chim holds his hands out as he exasperates, “you would think people who have a house filled with eight bathrooms would have basic medicine in their cabinets…it’s odd that the only thing I could find was Omeprazole. And Not even a damn Advil!”

“Okay let’s not turn this into the ID channel guys, I’m alive and well—

“Well…” almost everyone chorus’ in making you equally send them an incredulous look.

Hen is the one to not have chimed in but chooses to squats in front of you, “Eat this and keep this pressed to your face for at least five to seven minutes.”

“Thank you, Hen.”

“No problem,” she smiles before standing up and looking at the rest, “now go mingle everyone instead of being up in their face, I’m sure they’ll be in good hands with Buck—maybe.”

“Hey!”

Hen winks at him before she walks off with Maddie and Chimney who starts talking about the appetizers he noticed by the patio door.

“Marisol’s calling,” Eddie looks down at his phone, “I trust that I can leave two alone for a few minutes.”

Buck shrugs nonchalantly, “That depends—

“Of course you can.” You side eye the man beside you underneath the ice pack.

Eddie snickers before disappearing behind the sliding doors to a room across from the stairs.

Buck’s breathing beside you makes you more calm until he deeply exhales, clearing his throat while you chew on a pineapple as he turns his body to you.

“So why come back?” His island water eyes holds your stare, lightly pushing since you still had time to get the inflammation to go down.

So what better way to wait it out by talking?

Swallowing the fruit you boldly respond, “you would think I took a year off instead of two weeks but…I’d miss you too much. Is that a good enough answer for you Buckley?”

Evan grins as he bumps his shoulder with yours again, “yeah it is! I just wanted to hear you say it.”

You noticed the change of tone in his voice beside you and fought the urge to shudder at it. So you scoff and push yourself off the steps, plate of pineapple long forgotten as you balanced yourself upright while Buck’s got his hands out to catch you if you fall.

The feeling was always mutual, lifting each other up and going through the motions together as a team.

“Since you’re so full of yourself, let’s battle it out on the dance floor.”

Buck frowns as he glances down at his wrist, “I think you still have another three minutes and thirty-nine seconds left to go…and they’re playing jazz.”

“What’s wrong with that? Would you rather hear The White Stripes or Backstreet Boys…I could make a request if you like?” You teased while Buck pushes himself to his feet.

He blows out a breath, “I tell you one time that Maddie and I had a jam session to that boy band on my sixteenth birthday road-trip to cheer me up and you won’t let it go.”

“I’m not shaming you.” You raise a hand in surrender, “I’m no hater and the band had hits. I don’t care who you are, where you’re from, what you did, as long as you love me—it’s all good.”

Buck rolls his head around, “you’re so clever and you don’t have to worry about that so! Let’s just start off with you finishing the rest of those pineapples and I’ll try one of those appetizers before you show me some moves but I don’t think they have anything on mine.”

“Please! I’ll be very shocked to see you do more than a two-step since you also hate karaoke.”

“I don’t hate it.” Buck picks up the plate for you, “I just prefer not to see my sister and Chimney eat their microphones singing while staring into each others eyes.”

“They’re in love Buck, leave them alone!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy they found each other. I am their number one fan but that’s still my sister and I don’t need to see more than needed on their love life.” He shudders.

You hook your arm with Buck’s as you begin to walk through the home towards the kitchen, “yeah I guess I get that, yet there’s something so special about seeing people in love! It always shows me why there’s still the urge to keep going, just like us running into fires. Not to just simply put it out but to have a sense of unity when that’s not always common.”

Buck is intently listening and whole heartedly agrees as the both of you settle into the kitchen. He enjoys having conversations with you and you enjoy keeping him company, although he came all this way for you.

Showing up for each other was never foreign but it was times like these, swollen eyed and slightly loopy while the game of politics were being played out in the vineyard, wide grins and random conversations were held inside between the two of you—later joined by the rest of the team—showed that you were surrounded by exactly who you needed to be with.

𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼ 𓇼☾☼𓇼☾☼

Continue with my spring anthology prompts here.

#911 abc #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #911 x reader #911 s7 #911 season 7 #howard chimney han #howard han #chimney han #maddie buckley #maddie han #athena nash #athena grant #athena grant nash #eddie diaz #bobby nash #henrietta wilson #spring prompts #queued

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astrolook · 3 days ago

Note

Hi! I don't know if it's too much to ask but could you make a glossary for vedic astrology terms? There's so many and it's hard to figure out what is what. I saw your post about the Navamsa chart and it sent me into a google rabbit hole that I came out of more confused than before 😅

PS. how did they not detect your allergies at birth?! it's crazy that they gave you such severe stmptoms and went undetected for so long.. I'm glad to hear that you found the cause in the end!

Many thanks! And I wish you a joyful day/night!! 🤍

Hii...not too much at all. I appreciate u asked! From now on I will include mini glossary sections side-by-side in my posts (like translations or simple defs of the Sanskrit terms), especially for the Vedic stuff. A lot of online sources either overcomplicate things or give zero context and I do get it. And omg THANK YOU for the sweet words about my allergy stuff 😭💗 Yeah, hospitals here in the '90s weren’t really doing tests like that. Even when my lil sister was born in the 2000s, they didn’t do anything by default. I honestly don’t even know if they do that now, tbh?

We only found out because after I finally got tested my dad was like “…let’s check the little one too” and surprise, she has the same ones as me 😬 None of our other family members do though. Just us two 💀. But I’m doing much better now, and the rashes are way more manageable 🙏

Also I hate astrologers who only preach doom and gloom??? Like… that’s not how it works. Some stories I got from my clients here tell me how they went thru an existential crisis after the reading and even made serious decisions like a mother showed up with her son's chart whether he has any potential for foreign settlements. The astrologer apparently told her that her son has Saturn and Mars in conjunction in the 12th house in an enemy sign, so there are high chances of him dying and it's dangerous if he moved abroad and settled there. She said her son wanted to but she doesn't want to lose her son and convincing him to reject the opportunity he got from his company.

I was like...huh??? Seriously? Looking at his chart, he did had Saturn-Mars conjunction in 12th in Virgo. Yes, this can manifest as accidents abroad or even jail time in some cases. Not everyone. Her son's job requires physical labor and honestly this is the best combo he can get. He is a structural engineer as well. I told her this can actually make him flourish in his career as this would help him the drive, effort and energy and she seemed satisfied in the end. She messaged me a few months later, saying her son moved abroad and doing good overall.

😭 Astrological placements aren’t punishments, they’re patterns and potentials. Nuance, anyone?? Ugh. Sending you so much love and good vibes right back 💌🌙

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x-atlas-x · 1 year ago

Text

Yugi could remember the last time he’d felt this heartbroken. He remembered sitting outside with tears streaming down his cheeks. He remembered clutching his knees to his chest, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

He admired the full moon and glittering stars above him through his blurry vision. He vowed to never let himself feel this way, but it had happened again. It happened twice, and he was beyond furious with himself.

How could he be so stupid?

He heard footsteps behind him. He quickly wiped his tears and covered the sound of his sniffles with a cough muffled into his sleeve.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re not bawling your eyes out.”

“I’m not,” He grumbled. “It’s just allergies.”

“I’ve been standing here for the past five minutes. I know you’ve been crying this whole time.”

Yugi rolled his eyes at Atem’s inability to respect his privacy. He peered over at him when his roommate sat down beside him.

“You really suck. You shouldn’t watch someone while they’re having a pity party,” Yugi huffed. “It’s strictly private business.”

“To be fair, I came out here to tell you that the shower’s available for you—you know, like you asked,” Atem’s cocky smirk didn’t make him feel any better. “It’s not my fault I accidentally stumbled out here while you’re weeping all over the place.”

Yugi sighed, “Yeah, well, you should’ve walked away as soon as you realized it.”

“Maybe,” Atem shrugged. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’re not doing this in the shower. You would definitely run out of hot water—though, that would’ve been amusing to hear…”

“You just love to watch me suffer,” Yugi mumbled, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Only when it’s harmless,” Atem frowned. “I’m sorry about what happened. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Yugi muttered. “It happened regardless of whether or not I deserved it.”

“Your boy—I mean, ex—was a prick.”

“He didn’t act that way when we first started dating.”

“They never do,” Atem hummed, “but they have to start showing their true colors at some point.”

“After a year and a half of being together?” Yugi winced when he felt another rush of tears flooding his eyes. “God, I thought I fucking knew him so well, but—“

“You didn’t,” Atem finished. “He’s notorious for that. He woos people, butters them up, then dumps them out of the blue. He always makes them feel like they’re the problem, when they’re not. You’re not the problem, Yugi. He is.”

“I guess…” Yugi trailed off. “I hate feeling like this. I wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

“I know,” Atem wrapped an arm around Yugi’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. “It’ll be okay, though. You’ll move on, and you’ll get over him at some point. He’s not worth dwelling over.”

Yugi nodded and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He laid his head on Atem’s shoulder, then timidly asked, “Will you stay with me?”

“I will. If it gets any colder, though, I’m dragging your ass inside. My hair’s wet, and I’m not risking getting hypothermia.”

Yugi playfully scoffed, “It’s not that cold out here.”

“You’re not the one with wet hair.”

“Good point.”

They lost track of how much time they spent out there. At some point, Atem tugged Yugi to his feet and led him inside, complaining about his hair still being damp. They bid each other a good night, then disappeared into their respective rooms to get some sleep.

And if Yugi wandered into Atem’s room in the middle of the night, then that was nobody else’s business but his own.

#yugioh #ygo #yugi mutou #atem #puzzleshipping #blindshipping #my writing

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kyojurismo · 2 years ago

Note

i don’t know how to do emergency requests. this is my first time asking for anything. if you’re not up for it, you don’t have to. could you maybe do a rengoku or tengen x reader with eczema? i have it really bad right now because of allergy season and it’s making me insecure.

again you don’t have to, thank you!

🩰

# kyojuro rengoku & tengen uzui

tags : gn!reader, eczema, r is insecure, crying (bc i’m dramatic i guess), general fluff !!

a/n : hello again ! i hope it comforted you a bit and make you feel better, i tried to focus on the comforting part because i feared i would say something that was um incorrect? well, yeah… anyway, i’m sending you a big hug <3

KYOJURO RENGOKU

let’s say that kyojuro at first thought it was some kind of curse (like oyakata-sama yknow) and that there was some strange ritual to make it go away

but then you explained to him, even though it made you feel a bit uncomfortable, scared of the possible judging stare you would end up receiving from him

but he did not!

we’re talking about kyojuro after all

he would help get you whatever kind of medication is needed, offering to go buy them himself <3

he knew how hard it is for you to walk around when it is even more evident

but he’s here to support you and shower you in love

he would kiss your forehead, reminding you that you’re beautiful nonetheless

he didn’t care, really. he just felt bad noticing that it made you uncomfortable and insecure

if he could, he would make it all disappear in a second

“i don’t feel like going out today, i’m sorry,” you whispered once, trying to cover yourself. “no problem at all, little flame! i totally understand!” he would smile at you, showing that it didn’t bothered him at all

you were grateful for kyojuro

because he wasn’t grossed out or anything, he hugged you and touched you with ease

he simply didn’t care

he loved you too much to let something like this get between you two

he thought that it was simply part of you, y’know? that’s you too, and he’s totally okay with it. he loved you for who you are, not for your appearance

kyojuro made sure to cuddle you 24/7 so you know that it’s not a problem for him, he really really really wished you could feel better about it <3

TENGEN UZUI

our boy tengen,

somehow thought the same as kyojuro in the beginning

he tried not to touch you that much because he thought it would hurt or make you uncomfortable

but after some time he became more touchy, that way you knew he didn’t found you gross

literally pleaded shinobu to find a cure, but oh well

“at least find something to make them feel better!”

he wouldn’t force you to go out if you didn’t feel like it

but would make sure to be your giant teddy bear, hugging and kissing and reminding how much he loved you

man he would be so lovely

“you’re so beautiful today, i wonder how i got so lucky to be with you,” like 🥹

stop right now, tengen would fight whoever starts messing with you

i’m not kidding, whether be it with words or with his hands, he wouldn’t let anything slide

you literally cry because he’s too much

well, you probably cried because you thought he deserved someone with perfect skin too

but he did his best to demonstrate that he wanted you and that he didn’t care about it

hugging you 24/7 because man is clingy af and can’t let you go

i don’t make the rules

reblogs & comments are super appreciated! thank you for taking your time reading it, i hope you enjoyed it. have a good day / night <3

#📂 — writing !!#kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x you #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #tengen uzui x reader #tengen uzui x you #tengen uzui x y/n #kny kyojuro #kny tengen #kyojuro rengoku one shot #kyojuro rengoku fanfic #tengen uzui one shot #tengen uzui fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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mrs-explosionn · 7 days ago

Text

(Better) Obligatory Intro Post

🩵 My name is Catherine, she/her (cis woman), age 25, bisexual, white

🩵 This is a Metalocalypse only special interest blog, for Dethklok and my yumeship husband Nathan Explosion.

🩵 I understand English🇬🇧 and mid level Swedish🇸🇪

🩵 Pro-LGBTQ+, Pro-trans rights, Pro-Palestine, anti-racism. If you disagree, please block me.

🩵 NO “maps” or n*zis or bigoted/creepy crap

🩵 NO pro/compshipping, please

🩵 I draw stuff! Mostly character art/studies/memes of Dethklok and Metalocalypse related junk/self-inserts.

🩵 I DO NOT post/reblog NSFW/explicit but there may be a shirtless man or “suggestive theme” every so often. I guess 15,16+ for the content would be a good reccomendation? (Rated T for Teen?) Basically nothing more explicit that what is seen on the show. My drawings may also have some minor blood (no extreme gore like the cartoon) and catholic/satanic imagery/symbolism if those bother anyone. I have no other socials that aren’t completely seperate/ private. I am trying to be less shy with my special interests.

🩵 My ask inbox is open! (Please be kind)

💕Yumeship details:💕

🩵 Ship name: Natherine/Heartsplosion

🩵 Status: Married (privately)

🩵 Sharing/Doubles OK?: Yes! I must connect with my fellow silly Nathan stans

Stay metal, keep fighting. 🤘🏻

((Some Extra blog lore under the cut, tw: mental illness, breakups, death mentioned))

Not to sound ‘brutal’, but I could (go forth and) die at any point from anything (my allergies, falling pianos, meteors, etc.) and I am just done worrying myself sick, wasting years over things that won’t happen, past trauma that’s not happening anymore, religious anxiety, people I don’t know or people that don’t exist. I hope this blog helps me heal. But yeah, welcome to my cesspool of weirdness!

#intro post #metalocalypse #mtl fandom #dethklok #mtl #nathan explosion #fanart #sketch #mtl fanart #traditional art #yumeship #self ship

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waterfallofspace · 2 years ago

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Another one for @onetrickponi's lovely ask

The second idea I had for this request! from ~this list~ In celebration of you starting B/uddy D/addies, here is a little R/ei content! (Featuring K/azuki, he's the other buddy after all!) Bit of a shorter one, so hopefully you can forgive two fics for the one request (and two tags haha sorry <3) There isn't anything spoiler-wise in this, just basic knowledge of the characters, though maybe a touch of implication you'll understand after watching more of it! 1.6k words, prompt #17, story under cut! 17. "What did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?" (References to swearing, and mild violence, in case anyone doesn't like those!)

~~~~~~~

“hahh’gnnt-! eh’knngt-!uhhh”

“Bless you.”

“hihh- dntsh’uh-! ah’gnxt-!”

“And again.”

“knndt-ingxt-hh’enDGT’uhh-!”

“Christ, Rei.”

Kazuki lifts his eyes from the meal he’s preparing to stare at the figure on the couch. Each burst has Rei ducking into his chest, controller never leaving his hands. Despite the onslaught, he’s maintaining a solid lead in the race he’s playing. ‘It would be impressive if it wasn’t so concerning.’

“htxxgt-! ingdt’uh-!”

“Are you gonna live?”

“I’m f- huhh’knGDT’guhh-! fine.”

Rolling his eyes pointedly, Kazuki lets a huff fall from his throat. Rei responds by attempting to rub his nose on his shoulder without looking away from the screen. ‘Honestly a little pathetic… Man, I wish I had my phone on me. This would look great as my new wallpaper.’

“Maybe I’d believe you if-”

“hh’dznxt’huhh-!”

“-You could get through the word fine-”

“aH’INdxxt’uhh-!”

“-without sneezing. Or let me get through it for that matter.”

“That’s not a g- ih’gnxxt’huhh-! good system.”

“Jeez, you sound awful.”

“Thanks.”

The silence resumes its place over the room, Kazuki trying to focus on his steak as the strangled noises from Rei carry on. ‘At this rate he’s gonna pass out. I’ve never heard him go at it this much… sure, he has a few allergies, maybe the odd sneeze here or there, but nothing like this…’

Kazuki yelps as the smell of smoke pulls him from his thoughts. He turns the stove off with a hiss, pouring the steak onto a plate. Over on the couch, Rei turns his gaze towards the noise.

“You knxgt’uhh-! burnt it.”

“Yeah I know! I was a little distracted by your-”

“eh’dngt-! knnxxt’huh-!”

“Exactly. This is your fault, you hear me! You’re eating the burnt one!”

“No I’m not. heh’dnNT’uhh-!”

“You- Fine! But I’m not eating it either!”

“Okay.”

“I really hate you sometimes, have I mentioned that?”

“eh’gznGT-! Yes.”

Rei faces back towards the game, muttering to himself as the character on screen takes a sharp turn. Kazuki feels his eyebrow twitch, his mouth hanging open at the outright disregard for his food.

‘I work all day to make a nice meal, but does he appreciate it? No! No he does not! I’ll give him the burnt one- not like he was gonna compliment my food anyways… but maybe he’ll just not eat it… then it goes to waste… what a-’

“------- Kazuki?”

“Huh?”

Pulling his attention back into the room, Kazuki attempts to decode the nonsense Rei just threw his direction in his mind. ‘Something something my name… Uh… Something about food maybe… Damn I wasn’t listening.’ His hands idly continue plating the food as he tries to recall the words.

“hh’knGT’uh-!”

“Bless you.”

“You didn’t hear me.”

It’s not a question, more of a statement. Feeling a heat rise into his face, Kazuki considers lying to save his pride. ‘As if there’s any left to save anyways…’ Curiosity wins in the end, and he brings a hand to the back of his neck, offering a sheepish smile.

“No, I didn’t. Can you repeat it?”

“I asked if- hh’enDT-! eh’dxNGT’shoo-! heh’knTISH’iew-!”

Rei brings a hand to his face as the third one breaks through, both wincing at the loss of control. He pinches his nose, Kazuki flinching again at the harsh nature of the action. With a small shudder, Rei attempts to speak again, keeping his fingers gripping his nose. ‘That’s gotta be painful-’

“I asked if the food was ready.”

“Uh… Y- yeah…”

“Okay.”

Kazuki finds himself setting the table, mind still focused on the way Rei’s nose is shivering behind his hand. ‘He should just let it out… but it’s not really my place to tell him that. I know it’s a ‘thing’ with him.’ Still, as Rei sits down and Kazuki notices the water lingering in his eyes, it’s too much for him to ignore.

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doihhng what? nnGt-! knxt-!”

“Doing that. Stopping them like that.”

“Oh. Habit, I suppose.”

“It can’t be good for you. It’s giving me a headache, and I’m not even the one sneezing!”

“I’m not- ihh’gnt-! hH’gNxxt-! in pain.”

“Oh really? Because the way you just winced says you’re lying.”

There’s no answer, but Rei does drop his hand, starting to cut his steak into smaller pieces. ‘Not admittance, but maybe as close as I’m gonna get with him. I’ll accept it.’ Starting to eat his own, Kazuki groans as the burnt taste invades his mouth. Across from him Rei ducks into his shoulder with a smile that gets Kazuki’s blood boiling.

“And what’s so funny?! This is your fault after all. You should be thanking me for giving you the good one! Even though I know you’re not gonna appreciate all the effort that it took.”

“ih’tischhiew-! heh’kieshh’tiew-!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t think this means we’re through! Just because I still have manners, unlike some people, doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you for ruining my beautiful creation.”

“Okay. hh’keshh’tiew-!”

“I gotta ask… what’s up with that?”

Rei gives him a measured look, raising his napkin to scrub at his nose. ‘Mental note: wash that one separately.’ Opening his mouth, likely with the intention to reply, Rei suddenly freezes, bringing his wrist up and flinching delicately in it with another round.

“eh’tishhiew-! heh’kieshh’tiew-! ashhh’iew-!”

“Seriously Rei, what did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?”

“I don’t- ah’tishhiew-! heHh-! ih’keschh’tiew-! know.”

“What?! How do you not know?”

“I haven’t done- huh’teAZSHH’kiew-! Oh-”

“Bless you.”

“-Haven’t done anything different today.”

As Rei pauses to scrub at his face, with his hands this time, Kazuki feels his mind start to race through the day. ‘I woke up early, Rei was still asleep in the tub. I made breakfast, everything was fine. He woke up, he was fine, we ate. He played games, I did laundry, then he chang-’ A realization dawns in Kazuki’s eyes as they widen and begin to scan Rei. In return he pauses the attack on his sinuses to meet the stare being thrown his way.

“What..?”

“I uh… I think this might be my fault…”

“How? hh’keZZShh’tiew-! knnt’shiew-! ihh’nnGT’iew-!”

“Bless you. W- well, I bought this new detergent, it was on sale ‘buy one get two free’, I couldn’t pass up that offer!”

“Okay?”

“And so I used it for the first time today… including when I washed your clothes, like the hoodie you put on about halfway through the day.”

“Oh. hH’DNtzshh’kiew-!”

“Bless you- I’m sorry, if I knew you were so allergic I never would have-”

“I’m not.”

Kazuki feels his eye start to twitch again. He tries to form words, but only succeeds in gaping in Rei’s direction, mouth opening and shutting silently. ‘He’s… is he actually… It wouldn’t be wrong to punch him, would it? Maybe just knock him on the back of the head? He’s a tough assassin, he could take it, right?’ Instead of following through, Kazuki finds himself simply staring at Rei until the other man starts to shift nervously under his gaze.

“You’re making me uncomfortable. eh’kZSHhh’tiew-!”

“What. The hell. Do you mean. ‘You’re not’.”

“I’m not allergic.”

“You’re messing with me, right? Hilarious, Rei.”

“It’s not a joke. I d- heh’knNGt-! don’t have allergies.”

Standing slowly, Kazuki makes his way around the table, a smile void of any emotion starting to form across his face. Rei watches vaguely as he resumes picking at his food, until a slap to the back of his head brings his focus squarely onto Kazuki.

“Ow. What wa-”

“What the shit do you mean you ‘don’t have allergies’? Have you heard yourself? You think this is just how normal people sneeze? It’s not!”

“I’ve never been allergic hH’KEShhh’tiew-! to anything before.”

“Are- Do you not remember the time we had that job where you had to wait in the garden? By the time we’d got the information we needed you could barely open your eyes they were so swollen.”

A faint blush starts to show across Rei’s face as he attempts to hide behind his hair, bringing his hands up again to scrub at his rapidly pinkening nose. Deciding not to wait for the inevitable denial, Kazuki stands and heads to the kitchen. Rummaging through a drawer he grabs the allergy meds, making another mental note to return the detergent and rewash Rei’s clothes.

Returning to the table he hands Rei the pills, chuckling at the confused look he’s met with. ‘For a trained assassin who’s practically a master at his craft, man he can be dumb when it comes to… well… anything else.’ He grabs a glass of water, popping out a couple from the blister pack and grabbing Rei’s hand, placing them in it.

“You swallow those.”

“Why?”

“They will help with the allergies that you refuse to acknowledge.”

“I don-”

“Predictable as ever, Rei. I don’t care if you admit it or not, I’m not eager for you to disrupt the rest of the day with that constant-”

“heH’TISHhh’kiew-!”

“Exactly. You also need to change out of that hoodie. You’re literally just soaking in your ‘non allergen’. Though, the sneezes have slowed down a bit. Maybe that’s from not suppressing them into oblivion constantly!”

“Maybe.”

“You sure are a man of few words, aren’t you?”

Rei simply grunts in response, swallowing the pills with a grimace ‘Such a child-’ before pulling off the hoodie and tossing it on the floor ‘Are you serious?!’ and curling back up on the couch. Kazuki lets out a deep sigh, grabbing the hoodie and throwing it into the laundry room before starting to clean up the plates.

“hH’kesschh’tiew-!”

“Bless you, Rei.”

“Th- thanks…”

The response shakes Kazuki to his core, a dramatic tear starting to form in his eye. ‘He thanked me… I’m so proud! Still can’t clean up after himself… but I’ll fix that too.’ Casting his gaze back over to Rei, Kazuki allows himself to pause and for a moment, just a moment, feel content.

I’ll fix him. And maybe doing that… maybe that’ll fix me too.

#waterfallasks #waterfallwrites #two outta two- time to actually do tasks i need to work on hahaha~#thank you again for the request!! hope you dont mind double fics #this just summoned two different ideas in my head so i decided to act on them!!#its been awhile since ive written them so hopefully its still acceptable #you might just get me to rewatch this show hahaha~#b/uddy d/addies #r/ei and k/azuki

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the-bar-sinister · 1 year ago

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The Mechanics of Emotion (17440 words) by thesavagesabretooth

catch up here

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

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

December 27, 10:35 am

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Athena reached out to put her hand on his arm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His anxiety flashed bright in her mind.

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

“...” she let him continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She leaned over and pushed the switch down.

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

It was some sort of automatic pour over machine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you trying to torment me, then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gestured for her to speak.

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

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

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

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

His dark gaze swept over her as he spoke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Athena leaned into his arm and nodded slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Athena chuckled softly.

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

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

Athena winked at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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