#Tina replies to things.

[angstmongertina]

why are you saying you're going to try and get through your steam backlog when we both know you hardly ever finish games in general

First of all, fuck you. Second of all, fuck you.

I said TRY.

Edit: I did not actually say TRY but the vibe is TRY lol.

[angstmongertina]

I do want to add that the argument isn’t just about MRIs. The paper argues for the importance of multiple testing corrections, which is relevant in far more science than just imaging analysis. That’s something that can happen in any field in which tests are being performed. The MRI example is just one such case.

This essentially comes down to what we mean when we say statistically significant. If you think back to your science classes, you may remember learning about null and alternate hypotheses when performing an experiment, or designing a test. The idea is that the null is sort of the "default," and our goal with our experiments, much of the time, is see if the null hypothesis is false. You may hear it as "reject the null." Typically, we feel comfortable rejecting the null at p<0.05. This means that there is a 5% chance that any differences we're seeing in our data compared to what we expect is entirely by chance. In other words, it's pretty unlikely that the results we're seeing are by chance, so instead we can think "well, maybe there's an actual difference."

Now, that's great for one test. But let's say we're doing 100 tests. And each one rejects at p<0.05. And let's assume that all of them truly have no difference. Well, based on our cut-off for our p value, on average, we would expect 5 of those 100 tests to reject, even though there is no true difference. This is what's called a false positive, and is a danger whenever we're doing tests like this. There's always a chance that we find an association that isn't real. But, we do our best to try and limit them.

Now back to the dead salmon. As a disclaimer, I don't work with imaging data, so anyone who actually does imaging analysis, feel free to correct me, but as I understand it, when you're looking at MRIs, you're looking at tons and tons of small regions, and looking for associations between them and the stimulus. Essentially, you're doing tons and tons of tests. And if you continue to use the same cut-off of 0.05, you're going to end up with quite a few false positives. Which is what happened in the dead salmon study. If I recall correctly, they found a region with association in the optic area of the fish brain, indicating that the very dead fish can still see things. Which is clearly impossible, since the fish is dead. Instead, what was happening was that a cluster of tests just so happened to be false positives in a way that might make it appear as though there was an association with that region of the brain. And since the fish was dead and should not have any brain activity, that was very clearly a case of false positives.

So, what can we do? Well, multiple testing corrections is essentially a method that can be used to combat this. There are a few different ways to adjust the p-value, or otherwise control how many false positives you get, but the basic idea is that when you're doing many tests, like in the case of MRIs, or other studies like Genome Wide Association Studies, it's very very important to adjust the p-value, so you don't end up with a bunch of false-positives. And any scientists performing multiple tests should be wary of these kinds of results. It's not always as easy to tell as when we're looking for brain activity in a dead fish, but the results can be equally unrealistic.

In summary, please check how many tests you're running and perform multiple testing corrections accordingly, even if you're not working with MRIs. False positives don't care about what field you're in. They come for all.

one of the best academic paper titles

[angstmongertina]

I literally want to vote for all of these.

My turn to get friends to pile on! Come vote! :D

i should write something

it's gonna be garbage because i am so so so rusty (thanks burnout) but I will check this poll in about 3 hours (after we get back from the youngest's choir concert) and write SOMETHING that i'll post tonight.

[toonice113]

The jacket ⋆ ★ L.Hughes

part 2

Pairings: Luke Hughes x Fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: You weren’t expecting anything in return for your support, especially not this early in your relationship, but Luke had other plans.

Warnings:  brief mentions of drinking, 

Word count: 1.2k

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ I thought this was shorter lol, I can’t wait to see all the wag jackets this year also, new challenge drink every time you see the word ‘wag’ in the story (no seriously, how tf did i end up using the word so much and for what?). It’s my first time watching the nhl playoffs and im excited (also hope the devils make it far so we get bearded Nico for a while)

You’d met Luke on a dating app. You and your friends had decided to apply to Raya on one drunken girl’s night in, at first it was just a competition, seeing who would get accepted, then it just became a fun place to snoop around all together when only you and another one of your friends had gotten accepted.

When you got Luke’s first message you hadn’t thought much about it, replying to it with your friends’ help and then moving on, but then it became more messages being exchanged even when you were on your own. Your first time meeting had been really sweet, just a coffee date where you got to know each other, and at first you were hesitant because why would this professional athlete want more than just a hookup? But at the end of the date, once your coffees had been finished and the conversation had faded, he walked you to your car, asked for your number and wished you a good night with only a peck on your cheek.

You’d been dating for only a little over two months when the devils clinched playoffs. During those two months you had met his teammates, you’d met his brother accidentally before you had even started officially dating, and their partners a couple times, but nothing formal had happened. You knew about the WAG groupchat and the WAG fee and honestly, way more than you needed or wanted to know about WAG life, from your friends insisting you needed to study the world you were about to enter. 

When you and Luke first started taking things a bit more serious than just random dates here and there he had began inviting you to his games, giving you a seat in the family section for every game that his parents weren’t there for, a mutual agreement as you both felt it was too early for you to meet his parents, but recently that seat had been changed to one in the same section as the rest of the wives and girlfriends who had immediately taken you in as a part of their found family.

Still, with your newfound friendship during games with the WAGs, you were not really involved in anything outside of the game hangouts, you weren’t necessarily bothered by it, you had school to worry about and you knew your relationship was new and the state of it did not depend on whether your boyfriend payed a fee for you or not.

The first two playoffs games for the devils were to be played in Raleigh, so you were planning on inviting your friends over and watching the games with them, but those plans had changed when Nicole Laud messaged you asking if you would like to join the rest of the WAGs and their kids at the Markstrom’s where they were watching the first game. That’s how you had found yourself here, outside of the house balancing two big boxes of custom ordered devils cookies you had gotten from one of your friends who owned a bakery. 

“Hi! Come in, come in” Amanda welcomed you into her house “Let me help you with that” You thanked her as she grabbed the boxes from your hand so you no longer had to balance your purse, the boxes and your phone that you had forgotten to put back into your bag before.

“Oh, I’m so glad you could make it” Nicole approached you 

“Oh my god these are so cute!” Emma Dillon exclaimed once the cookie boxes were opened and put out with the rest of the food and snacks, the designs of the cookies was simple but cute, one of the design was a white frosting with the player numbers, another one was based on their Jersey jerseys, another one was red frosting with the white NJ logo and finally your favorites, the ones of NJ’s head, yes the mascot, no you had no idea how your friend had managed to pull it off in such short notice but she’d done it. “Where did you get these? I might have to order some for the girls’ birthdays” 

“A friend made them actually” You say with a smile “She owns a bakery, I can give you her contact later if you want”

“Oh absolutely” 

Then came the awkward moment when the girls began talking about the WAG jackets, one that you were sure you were not going to receive, again, not that you were expecting one or were bothered by the lack of.  Nicole brought in a box from her car, pulling each jacket out with care and hanging them all in a rack Amanda had set up. You tried to distract yourself from the interaction by getting up and helping one of the kids get a juice refill while their mom enjoyed the moment with the other women.

“This is from Luke” Nicole approached you with a box while the rest of the girls gushed over their jackets on the other side of the room, she winked at you before retreating back.

Confused, you set the box on the table in front of you, pulling at the ribbon holding it closed and then opening it, on top of something wrapped in red paper there’s a note.

Wear this for good luck? 

The messy handwriting and lopsided heart makes you smile, you put the card down and unwrap the present underneath, your mouth falling open at the jacket in front of you, an identical version of the ones the women across from you are now trying on with the name ‘Hughes’ and number 43

“Y/N come here let’s get a few pictures” One of the WAGS calls for you, none of them make a fuss about you getting a jacket, all of them knowing from Nicole filling them in on Luke’s surprise, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by making a big deal of it, instead choosing to include you on their celebrations.

You send Luke a picture Nicole took of you wearing the jacket, clearly showing his name and number wishing him a good luck on the game, getting back a message telling you how beautiful you look and how they are surely winning now that you are wearing the jacket, that you are not really wearing anymore since you all took them off after finishing the pictures so they won’t be ruined before the home games but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Okay how do we feel about me posting this one” Aly asks the group when the game goes on commercial break, her phone is passed around with the girls agreeing and you grimace at it.

“Um I don’t know if I should be in the picture, I mean Luke and I are still pretty new and no one really knows about us so…” You speak apologetically at the fact that you seem to be the only one with a problem with the picture being posted 

“Oh honey, I think everyone knows” Reanne pats your shoulder and you look around the room at all the women smiling at you

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused

“Check your boyfriend’s instagram story” Reanne tells you 

And there, on Luke’s public instagram story, is the picture you had sent him before the game, a red heart emoji accompanying it, loud and proud for everyone to see that Luke Hughes is officially out of the market.

[writers-hes]

t-shirt | c. berzatto x reader

A grey shirt reveals your secret.

gif not mine navigation

It started with small clues that a keen eye should have seen and a sharp mind should have figured out. But then again…it’s not like you were making an effort in telling everyone in the kitchen that their boss and their boss’ business manager was in a relationship. You took over Sugar’s role when it came to accounts when she gave birth to her beautiful daughter. It made the most sense. Save for the fact that you had a degree in business management, you grew up with the Berzatto’s, you were the favourite daughter of Cicero’s friend (which made you his most trusted in that goddamn wormhole of a restaurant), and you were Carmy’s girlfriend.

Bottom line is, you were the most trusted and most capable and—-

“Babe,”

“Hm?” He shuffles from his side of the bed and hides his face deeper into the pillow. 

”You told me to wake you up five minutes ago,” you whispered, chuckling when he threw the covers over his face.

”Five more minutes…”

”But Syd’s coming over here soon and she’ll see you,” 

“Fuck Sydney,” he mumbles, remembering the plans that you and Sydney had today. She was taking you to the best breakfast spot in the city. Carmy pauses and wonders if it would be worth it to disrupt the peace that your relationship had by letting Sydney in on your shared secret. 

You sighed, going under the covers with him. His eyes were still closed and his arms pulled you closer instinctively. 

”Just…five more minutes,” you told him. He smiles sleepily and nods.

He leaves your apartment just less than ten minutes before Sydney knocks on your door. He had to pull your Disneyland beanie on his head to hide his distinctive golden hair and even covered his face with a surgical facemask that you had. 

You greeted her with a smile and told her to go inside. Before you left though, she swore she saw one of Carmy’s coats on your kitchen counter. 

-

Tina asked if you could pick her up on the way to The Bear. The produce that she was able to buy was not ideal for a public commute and you always told her that you’d be happy to accompany her anytime.

”Hey, T,” you smiled, opening the trunk of your car to help her load the produce. “How’s the market?”

”Not much produce,” she frowns. “But I did find these cabbages that we can probably grill over a really creamy sauce,”

”Will you let me taste it?” you asked, closing the trunk.

”Of course,” she replied. You both got in the car and she looked around as you drove out. ”You know, isn’t it the age where you’re supposed to date?”

You coughed, not expecting the question. 

“Uh—I mean, I…I am dating,” you replied. “Just…I’m just not telling everyone,”

”You can tell me,”

”Oh, but the guy I’m seeing would like to keep things lowkey, you know? Like-like not really—“

”I know what lowkey means,” You chuckled at her tone. “But…he’s treating you good? Is he keeping it a secret because he’s ashamed? There’s no reason to, you know? I bet Richie and I will beat that son of a bitch—“

”He’s fine, T!” you laughed. “Thank you, though…for caring but he’s fine. He’s great. He treats me great and-and I’m happy,” you told her. “We just want to keep the relationship between us for a while,” Tina sees the small smile on your face and she’s convinced that you’re happy. 

-

“So, we’ll need 27 more little spoons,” Carmy said, looking at the mathematical equation he just solved in front of his staff.

“58, ba—Bear,” you replied, cursing yourself for almost saying ‘babe.’ “You, uh, need 58,”

“Oh,” he nods, suppressing a smile from your slip-up. He looks at you from his peripheral vision. “Well, she says 58. Oh, uh Y/N? Can you come to the office for a bit?”

You looked at Sydney, as if asking her for help but she just shrugs. 

“Sure, be right there,” You followed Carmy to the office while the rest of the staff looked at the prep for tomorrow. Carmy locks the door and envelops you immefiately. 

“Tina’s been talking about a little boyfriend of yours,” he mutters, his head on your shoulder. “What do you have to say about that, hm?”

“He’s distracting me at work,” you chuckled, running your hands through his hair. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“You'll wait for me?”

“Of course,” 

“Hm,” he hums before completely detaching himself from you. “Anyways, Y/N,” he clears his throat, switching his voice to a more serious one. “I need you to run some spreadsheets,”

“On what?” you asked, he didn’t miss your teasing face. 

“On…logistics. Yeah,” he nods to himself. He mouths “Go” and you nodded, pecking his lips quickly before leaving. 

“I’ll send the files to Sugar and CC you,” you told him before leaving, just loud enough to make everyone else hear. 

Marcus was just about to go to his station when he saw Carmy come out of the office. The head chef was blushing and he was looking at you.

-

It was a busy day at the Bear. There were shipments being made on top of the prep work that they have to do for that night. You were at the dining area with your laptop, some receipts, sales invoice, and disbursement forms. The Excel sheet glared at you from the brightness of the laptop screen. Carmy had kept you up all night last night and the bags under your eyes were proof.

You were taking note of Computer’s recommendations and trying to work everything out when Richie came in. 

“Hey, can you help me with picking out Eva’s gift—Motherfucker!” he suddenly shouted, causing you to look up in alarm. 

“Richie?” you asked, clueless as to why he was having his third meltdown of the day.

“Motherfucker!” he repeated, pointing at you and you looked at him, even more puzzled. The staff came running to him, with Carmy rushing out to see what his cousin was screaming about. Carmy’s eyes widen as he sees the t-shirt that you were wearing. 

“Yo, cousin—“

“Don’t cousin me!”

“Richie?” you asked. Sydney, Tina, and Marcus watched everything unfold from the side when it suddenly clicks. You were wearing Carmy’s shirt. It’s a pretty common shirt, a grey t-shirt with a logo on the sleeve that he’s worn multiple times before. 

“Does your dad know you’re dating this jagoff?” Richie asked, making you sputter the coffee that you were sipping.

“What?”

“That’s his shirt!” Richie points at the grey shirt and you paled, looking at Carmy who was looking at everything but you. 

“The guy that you were dating is Jeff?” Tina asked. “Oh…oh!” she gasps, realization dawning upon her. It now explains why you’d disappear with Carmy to the office randomly or going home together under the pretense that his apartment was on the way. 

“I knew it! It was Carmy’s coat that I saw in your apartment two weeks ago!” Sydney exclaims. “Oh, you’re good,”

“Fine! Fine,” you gave up, playfully glaring at a bashful Carmy. “We’re dating, get back to work,”

“Since when?”

“How did that happen?”

“I’ll answer these questions and then no one’s going to talk about it anymore, alright?” you asked, pursing your lips. “We’ve been…we’ve been dating for two months after I started working here. My father doesn’t know yet nor does Cicero. He’s…he’s uh, been really nice to me since I started so we dated and uh…that’s all,”

-

When the restaurant closed, you waited for Carmy in the passenger seat of your car and you both drove home. When you were about to sleep, you turned to him. 

“You have no help, you know that right?” you teased.

“Sorry…I-I didn’t know what to say,” he replies, the guilty feeling sinking in his stomach. 

“I’m kidding, Carm,” you said. “I’m happy they know,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Of course. I can’t believe Richie was the one who figured it out, though,” 

“Me too…but now I can kiss you more without hiding,” he says, pulling you closer. 

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he nods, inching his face closer to yours. He looks at you and smiles before kissing you. “Good night,”

“Good night.”

A/N: Hope you liked it!

[kuruptt]

BILLY HARGROVE X READER

You’re mine, you know that.

Click here to read Pt.2 :)

Pt.3 and Pt.4 out now !

**SUMMARY- (Y/N) goes to Tommy H’s party after Billy warns her not to, knowing of Steve’s intentions.Protective / Angry Billy.

**TRIGGER WARNINGS- mentions of violence/fighting towards Steve, light swearing and kissing.I think that’s all.

**WORD COUNT - 3k

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!!

I do not own the rights to these characters. All characters belong to the duffer brothers - stranger things.

I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORK TO BE RE - USED.

This is the first time I’ve written anything , sorry if it’s sloppy, I hope you enjoy it! My Requests are open, I do any characters, with any ideas and any type of reader :)!!!!!!

—————————————————————————————

Billy was never one for showing his emotions, but for you, he'd do anything. He'd already warned you about Tommy H's Party but you insisted on going.

"I just don't think it's a great idea (Y/N). why don't you stay home tonight? We can watch your favourite movies and get snacks like we origionally planned" Billy huffed in frustration while tugging at his curls in a way to disguise his regret.

You shifted on your feet and quickly whirled to face him, scrunching your face in anger.

"YOU, was the one who cancelled our plans for whatever stupid reason and now you want me to stay with you because you don't want me hanging around with Steve, who is by the way…MY BESTFRIEND. God get over yourself Billy" (Y/N) scoffs.

He sat patiently and watched you pace your new bedroom while trying to find something to wear. You, Hopper and El had recently moved out of the cabin and into an actual… House.

You balled your clothes into your fist with frustration, followed along with a deep sigh and a deathly glare casted towards your boyfriend, who was sitting anxiously at the end of your white, wooden carved bed that you’d spent weeks carefully hand painting your own little details and touches to.

Billy loved that you were different, that's why he asked you to be his girlfriend in the first place. You weren't like Carol or Tina , or any of the many cheerleaders. You were just... you. He loved your honesty and your loyalty but most of all , he loved that you would speak your mind at any given chance. You were a little unfiltered at times, but so was he and he wouldn’t change that about you for the world. Or maybe he would… just for tonight.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch me all night or are you actually going to help me find a dress that doesn't make me look weird" (Y/N) spat.

Billy held up both hands, a silent ‘hold on’ in the gesture.

“Woah, woah. Okay firstly, you do not ‘look weird’ in anything and secondly, no. I do not want to help my extremely beautiful girlfriend pick out an outfit to wear for Tommy H’s stupid fuckin party.” He growled.

You took a small step back and turned on your heels to face the wardrobe.

“You mean because of Steve” (Y/N) whispered under her breath, already wishing she hadn’t.

You glanced over at the mirror that stood tall in the corner or your bedroom and watched Billy push himself up from the soft memory foam mattress, his full height now very apparent and daunting.

“What was that sweetheart?” Billy questioned, with a slight wrinkle forming between his brows as he furrowed them.

“Nothing” (Y/N) replied.

Billy gave a sudden smirk and swiped his tongue across the fullness of his lower lip.

“Say it” He demanded, lowering the bass in his voice.

The room fell silent, completely still and quiet.

“SAY IT!” He hissed. With a hot, suffocating wave of anger flooding through his bare, muscular chest.

You pivoted sharply to face him, with your anger reaching new heights.

“I SAID YOU WONT HELP ME PICK AN OUTFIT BECAUSE YOU DON’T WANT STEVE TO SEE ME IN IT. Because that’s it, right? You don’t care that I’m going to a ‘stupid party’, with my my ‘stupid friends’ you care about STEVE, my BEST friend who you are so clearly jealous of-“

Before you could finish, Billy seized both of your upper arms into his large, gripping hands that were covered in layers of sweat. His forehead tilted forward to meet yours while the same enraged expression lingered on his face. He pauses for a brief moment, his lashes suddenly started lowering until they came to a tight squeeze. He held them shut for a few seconds while he gathered his thoughts, along with a deep breath that hung heavy on the air around them.

“I am not jealous of Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. I just know his inten-“ (Y/N) forcefully , loosens from his grip and refuses to let him finish.

“You know what, no. I don’t wanna hear whatever excuse you’re going to try and come out with this time” (Y/N) scoffed.

Billy snatched his denim jacket from the bottom of the bed, fishing out a pack of cigarette’s and plucking one from the back, then jamming one between his bow shaped lips.

“Fine, go. See if I fucking care” he mumbled harshly, cigarette bobbing between his lips.

He reaches for the door handle and wrenches it open.

“And don’t call me for a ride , I’m sure lover boy Steve will gladly take you home” He spits slamming the door on his way out, the echo of it lingering as a final reminder of his anger.

You wasn’t sure why he was so angry , or why he hated Steve. You assumed he just didn’t want boys hanging around you like cockroaches.

Nevertheless, you wasn’t going to let it ruin your night, you shrugged off the tension by discarding your clothes and slipping into a pink mini dress that hugged your very few curves.

You marched down the stairs, your feet light despite your mood, you headed towards the front door where your heels awaited and buckled them onto your feet with a practiced hand. The draw of the party and the desire to forget the argument fueled your steps as you hurried out the door.

——————————————————————————

Ariving at Tommy H’s party, you were still

radiating the tension of the earlier argument. Nancy and Jonathan had given you a ride, but they couldn’t help but notice the dark cloud of negative energy that was clinging to you.

Nancy smiled encouragingly at (Y/N) eager for her to have a good time , she took (Y/N’s) hand in hers and rushed for the front door.

As they stepped inside, the sound of 80’s music grew louder, mingling with the off key singing that pulsed through the house. You rose onto your toes and scanned the crowd, darting your (Y/E/C) eyes from head to head until you finally spots a familiar face … Steve Harrington. Your face lit up with a smile as you hurried towards him , carefully navigating in your heels.

“Steve!” (Y/N) called out.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Steve replied in excitement.

“Where have you been hiding ? Haven’t seen you for days! Billy giving you a hard time?” Steve mocked, a brow lifting slightly as he studied your body language.

(Y/N) wrapped her arms around herself into a tight hug and let out a nervous laugh , she tucked a stray, strand of hair back behind her ear and avoided his strong gaze. There’s a slight tremor to her voice as she responds,

“No,no, he’s not, we’re just , I mean.” She sighed. “We argued today, but he’s just stressed , ya know? He’s got a lot going on and he’s also not your biggest fan sooo…”

A warm laugh escaped Steve’s lips as he reached out, fingers cradling your chin , guiding your face up to meet his. “Oh wow really, I never could’ve guessed that” Steve joked with sarcasm in his voice.

Laughter bubbled up from the both of you and you playfully nudged Steve’s shoulder with your fist, a grin spreading across your face as you teased,

“Shut up, Steve. You’re such an idiot”.

“No I’m kidding, I’m kidding. He hasn’t stopped staring at me all night, I think it’s safe to say he hates me”. Steve added with a strained smile tugging at his lips, followed by gritted teeth and a touch of dry humour.

(Y/N’s) eyebrows drew together, her eyes narrowed slightly and a ripple of worry started to crease above her forehead.

“Wait, wha-“ (Y/N) was cut off from the hoard of chanting party goers.

“Keg King, Keg King, Keg King”

Your (Y/E/C) eyes flickered from Steve’s worried gaze , your attention now snagged by the crowd of drunken bodies swaying before you. A wave of stale beer and cheap cologne wafted your way as you observed the crowd of flushed faces and sloppy movements.

“Woooooo!” Billy shouted proudly after a spray of beer erupted from his mouth like a foamy waterfall.

A shiver of realisation ran down your spine as the familiar voice cut through the air. Drawn by the chants that followed and the knot of curiosity that formed in your stomach, you abandoned Steve and rushed towards the sound.

“Hey (Y/N) wait up!” Steve shout’s trying to cut through and gain her attention urgently.

His hand outstretched and reached for your arm but you were to fast, you’d already reached the tall, glass doors. A glossy barrier between the thumping bass from the inside and the vibration of screams and giggles from the outside.

Your gaze swept the crowd one last time, a desperate hunt to find what you were looking for. Even the smell of smoke and sweat couldn’t mask the faint scent of his cheap cologne as you locked onto him.

And there he was, Billy. Billy fucking Hargrove.

Even from this distance, that cocky smirk was unmistakable. An hour ago, words had flown between you like poisoned darts, but here he was, leaning against the wall of Tommy H’s house, a leather jacket slung across his toned back worn open to reveal his bare chest that glistened with sweat… or beer, she wasn’t too sure. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he watched you, a slight spark in his eye, those dark blonde rings of curls that fall perfectly from his mullet across his face, half hiding , half revealing the familiar arrogance you both loved and hated. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, was it an apology? A challenge? You couldn’t tell, but the sight of him sent a fresh wave of confusing emotions through you.

Billy had sworn off parties, he hadn’t been to one in a long time. He hated the monster alcohol made him become… His father , Neil. Angry, violent and unpredictable. He’d stopped it all, for you. So seeing him in Tommy H’s back garden surrounded by booze and living up to his ‘keg king’ reputation was a shock, but tonight was different, tonight he seemed to have it all under control, atleast you thought so, but you were still angry , furious Infact.

You unbuckled your heels, the straps digging into your fingers as you stormed towards Billy. He stood casually against the wall, taking a long drag of his cigarette. As you approached, he straightened up, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“Billy, what are you doing here?" (Y/N) demanded, her voice tight with frustration.

“You storm out of my house, tell me not to ask you for a ride home, complain that you don't want me at this, quote on quote, 'stupid party,' and now I find you here in Tommy H's back garden? What the he—"

Your words were cut short as Steve grabbed your arm, swinging you around.

“Hey, phew! You're fast," Steve slurred, pointing a finger at you.

“You didn't wait up for me. Is everything okay?"

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into a clumsy hug, the both of you now nose to nose.

“Steve, what , are you doing?" (Y/N) whispered, trying to pull away.

“What? I was just—" Steve looked up, his eyes widening as he saw Billy's shadow looming over him.

“Oh, well, that's a problem," he huffed, his ego crushing inside of him.

“You're damn right it's a problem, Harrington.” Billy said, his voice dangerously low.

He stubbed out his cigarette on the wall, the motion sharp and deliberate. With a sudden shove, he sent Steve stumbling backwards. Steve, caught off guard, threw the first punch, a wild swing aimed at Billy's face. Billy laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that sent a chill down your spine.

"Ha-haaa, looks like you got some fire in you after all, Harrington. I've been waiting to meet this 'king Steve' everyone's been telling me , so much about."

A crowd gathered, a circle of individuals eager for the drama. Billy moved with a speed that masked his relaxed posture, landing a solid punch on Steve's jaw. Steve crumpled to the ground, clutching his face.

“Billy, stop!" (Y/N) shouted, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear above the rising tension.

Billy knelt, grabbing Steve by the collar, his knuckles white as he curled his free hand into a fist. He landed several brutal punches on Steve's face, each blow highlighted by a deadly snarl.

"Stay the fuck away from my girl!" he spat, his eyes blazing with possessive rage.

“Billy, get off of him!" (Y/N) pleaded, her voice laced with desperation. "Billy, please!"

As Billy raised his fist for the final, devastating blow, he paused, his large muscles tense, the adrenaline coursing through him like a burning fire. The pleas of his girlfriend behind him cut through the extreme heat of his anger like a knife. With a violent motion, he stood up, turning to face you. He grabbed your face, with his thumbs digging into your cheeks.

“What did I tell you, huh? Huh! I told you not to fucking come here and I told you I knew his intentions, but no, you never fucking listen to me, do you?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

"I'm sorry, I—I didn't know, I—" (Y/N) stammered, tears welling in her eyes.

"You didn't know?" Billy laughed, a hollow, joyless sound.

“You didn't know! Maybe if you'd stopped cutting me off, you'd have heard me trying to fucking tell you. I told you I wasn't jealous, and you wouldn't listen. I told you I knew his intentions, you wouldn’t listen. You cut me off and told me it was an excuse. So what the fuck was I supposed to do, just sit back and let some freak have his way with my girlfriend? Fuck no. Do you hear me? No!" he roared, his voice echoing through the stunned silence .

“I'm sorry, Billy. You’re right, I should've listened, but he didn't deserve this. You can't just go around beating people's asses just because you can." (Y/N) replied firmly.

“And you—” (Y/N) pauses, feeling the weight of all the judgmental eyes on her and she starts to tear up.

Billy notices your anxiety, the way your shoulders tense under the hug of your own palms and gently lets go of your face, leaving a faint blush on your cheek from his touch. He hangs his head into his hands, wiping both palms down his face as he takes a deep, steadying breath. Looking up to the sky for a moment, he gathers his thoughts before bringing his gaze back down to meet yours.

With a soft but caring motion, he removes his worn out leather jacket, the fabric heavy with the scent of booze, cheap cologne, and lingering hints of cigarette smoke. He drapes it around you, the weight of it offering a strange comfort. Billy cups your face in his strong hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Go and get in the car, wait for me, okay? I’m sorry for earlier, we’ll talk about it in a minute,” he says, his voice low and soothing, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Okay,” (Y/N) replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

You walk away, wiping your tears on the collar of Billy’s leather jacket, inhaling deeply the scent of your boyfriend, letting it wrap around you like a warm hug, a reminder of his presence.

Meanwhile, Billy turns to Steve, who is now crouched on the ground, clutching his nose. Kneeling down, he grabs Steve by the collar once more, his grip firm and intimidating.

“You ever go near her again and I’ll—” Billy starts, but his words are interrupted by a soothing voice.

“Billy?” you call, glancing back, wondering why he hasn’t followed you.

Billy turns back to Steve, his eyes blazing with anger. “Stay the fuck away from her, do you hear me?” he spits, his tone fierce. “Hey, do you fucking hear me? You’re not to go near her again, do you understand?”

Steve nods quickly, with obvious fear in his eyes, anything to keep this maniac from unleashing his wrath , he thought.

Billy releases Steve’s collar, causing him to fall back onto the cold, blood stained floor beneath him. With a heavy stride, Billy turns heel and heads through the house, the atmosphere now quieter but thick with whispers.

As he reaches the front door, he sees you standing at the passenger door of his Camaro and he pauses for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his heart swelling with a mix of protectiveness and affection. He didn’t know what he did to ever deserve you.

Steady on his feet, he rushes towards you, apologising on the way and throwing his arms open for you to climb into.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart” he huffs.

Billy's words hung in the air, a mix of apology and possessiveness that swirled around you like a storm. You burrowed deeper into his bare , muscular chest, the familiar scent of his leather jacket around you mixed the smell of booze leaving his mouth with every soft word he spoke and the faint hint of sweat and blood that mixed with the curls in his hair and the skin on his knuckles . His heart hammered against your ear, a chaotic rhythm mirroring the chaos of the fight you'd just witnessed. He knew you hated it.

"I know you hate this," he murmured, his voice rough against your hair.

“God, (Y/N) I hate it too. Seeing him look at you like that... it just snaps something inside of me." His grip tightened, not painfully, but with a desperate need to hold you close, to shield you from the world and everyone in it.

“I know it's not an excuse, but please, try to understand." He pleaded.

Looking up, you saw the sincerity etched on his face, the vulnerability that he usually kept hidden beneath a layer of his father’s ego and self worth.

“I do understand, Billy," (Y/N) whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "But that doesn't make it right. Steve didn't deserve that, no one does. You can't let your anger control you like this."

His big , bright, ocean blue eyes searched yours, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding.

“No more fighting, okay? Please promise me."

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded, his voice a low rumble against your skin.

“Okay, no more fighting. I promise."

Billy gently cupped your face, his large, soft thumbs brushing away the last drops of tears clinging to your eyelashes. He tilted your head up, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. The air crackled with unspoken emotions, a mixture of remorse, possessiveness, and a raw, desperate need for connection.

He placed a gentle kiss on your half parted lips, a silent apology that spoke volumes. The taste of salt lingered on your skin, a bittersweet reminder of the tears you'd shed and the stress you'd both endured. A few stray droplets found their way into his mouth, another reminder of your vulnerability that he seemed to absorb with regret.

The kiss deepened, a slow, passionate kiss that chased away the fear that gripped onto you and replaced it with a large sense of comfort. His lips were soft yet firm, molding against yours with a gentle pressure that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a kiss that promised love, a silent vow to protect you from any darkness that may come your way. Each kiss grew more heavier and needier than the last, greedier Infact. Billy’s tongue swiped across yours and you both let out a soft moan.

You pulled away. Billy’s eyes, now dark and intense, lingered on your face for what felt like an eternity. A storm of emotions swirled within them, the most obvious one being regret. And with that final, lingering look, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your small, red , button nose, the coldness of your skin followed by the warmth of his lips shocked you as he did so.

“Right, get in.” he commanded. His voice a low rumble that showed a hint of urgency.

He swung open the passenger door of his beloved Camaro, the interior dimly lit by the soft glow of the dashboard.

“You're freezing.” He added, his tone softening with care. "I'm taking you home."

Before you could bring yourself to step inside the deathtrap he owned , a playful glint flickered in your eyes.

“Oh, I'm sorry," (Y/N) felt a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips. "I thought I wasn't allowed to ask you for a ride home."

The tension that had been simmering between you both finally broke, erupting into a shared laughter that filled the night air. Billy's face softened, his lips curving into a genuine smile that reached his eyes. Leaning closer, his voice dropped to a husky whisper.

“Get. In. Now."

The playful command held a deeper meaning, a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Okay, okay," (Y/N) replied. A hint of amusement dancing in her voice.

As you settled into the passenger seat, Billy carefully slammed the door shut, his touch surprisingly gentle, as if he’s afraid to startle you. He rounded the Camaro with a careful yet fast paced stride, his movements radiating a raw energy that both intimidated and intrigued you.

Sinking heavily into the driver's seat, he reached for the crumpled pack of cigarettes tucked into his jacket pocket. Plucking the last one from the pack, he placed it firmly between his plump lips. The engine roared to life, a sudden eruption of power that vibrated through the car and sent a jolt of adrenaline through your veins. It was a sound that always managed to ground you, a reminder of the raw, untamed spirit that defined Billy.

Cracking the window to allow the smoke to escape, he flicked the lighter, the flame illuminating his chiseled features in the darkness. He exhaled slowly, carefully directing the smoke away from you, a small gesture of consideration that spoke volumes. Reaching out, he gently brushed a long strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin for a fleeting moment.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I'd never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?"

Looking at him, you saw a depth of sincerity in his eyes that melted away any lingering doubts.

“Of course," (Y/N) replied softly, her voice filled with a love that blocked out the chaos that surrounded them. “Yeah, I know, Billy."

His gaze grew stronger. His thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone with a possessive touch.

“You're mine, you know that too.” He stated firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Yes, Billy, I know," (Y/N) responded, her voice barely a whisper.

A soft smile played on his lips, his eyes filled with a love that warmed you from the inside out.

“I love you, sweetheart," he confessed, the words hanging in the air like a sacred vow.

"I love you too, Billy.” (Y/N) replied, her heart overflowing with an emotion that she couldn’t explain.

With a final, lingering look, he shifted the car into gear, the engine revving with eagerness.

“Let's get you home.” He said, his voice filled with a newfound purpose as he sped off into the night, leaving Tommy H's party and the darkness behind.

Part 2 - Part 3 and Part 4 out now !! :)

[angstmongertina]

Can’t believe you dragged me in with you.

BETRAYAL.

i would like to say i cannot believe i'm back on my swtor bullshit but i can believe it

i am a little annoyed that i can't do the date night content yet because i deleted my only character that was actually like. through content. because i got mad at a choice i made and decided i refused to live this way.

but rixi 2.0 is on corellia now so we're almost done with base game at least.

[newtkive]

shift shenanigans - s1 social media au

note: jus for fun ! may or may not do more parts.

warnings: crude humor, slightly offensive jokes from richie sry

part two

liked by syd_adamu, marcus.brooks11 and 30 others

chefboyardee: my friends! i love my friends! the two on the right more than the left (i’m joking i promise) 😁😁😁😁

see all 8 comments

syd_adamu: brave of you to call him your friend y/n

↳ chefboyardee: boss man carmy save me

↳ syd_adamu: oh.. :///

marcus.brooks11: you did me so dirty, friend.

↳ chefboyardee: love you marcus you look spectacular

↳ marcus.brooks11: don’t start

richietheking: Where am I?

↳ chefboyardee: ya motha

liked by syd_adamu, chefboyardee and 10 others

richietheking: Getting sh$!t done.

see all 8 comments

marcus.brooks11: This is coolllddd.

↳ richietheking: You already know it man.

syd_adamu: this is actually crazy

carmyberzatto: can you show this on instagram? i think you should delete this.

↳ richietheking: Delete your life.

chefboyardee: come down to the beef for a number 6 the occy way 💯 the safest joint on the block 🤑💯we are 🔛🔝

↳ richietheking: Eyyy I know that’s right.

↳ carmyberzatto: please don’t advertise this.

WE HAVE THE BEEF 🥩

[ 8:25 am ]

y/n:

bruh im about to lose it. heads up when you guys get to work.

marcus: that catering order is about to be crazy

DO NOT REPLY: These white boards are stressing me out.

syd: we know, probably giving you ptsd from not finishing high school

DO NOT REPLY: Fuck you I did finish it.

y/n: oh i gotta change ur contact name richie

richie poo: ????? What

y/n: it was ‘DO NOT REPLY’ lols

marcus: valid

syd: real

richie poo: What? Why?! That’s so rude

y/n: cuz you piss me off

and you kept blowing up my phone yesterday

richie poo: You weren’t answering, and we needed help at the cook out.

syd: the one where you poisoned everyone?

richie poo: Fuck off.

y/n: when i’m off work, i’m off work.

marcus: don’t let carmy hear that, y/n

y/n: don’t remind me

syd: he’s trying at least, go easy on him. he really has great ideas

richie poo: You mean you have great ideas in that little notebook

tina: Never trust a broad with a notebook.

syd: hey! i’m just being helpful

y/n: do you guys think my ig post will hurt carmys feelings

marcus: it would make me a little sad if i were him, but i don’t think he cares

y/n: great i’m gonna cry now

syd: i doubt he even saw it y/n it’s fine

richie poo: Check the work chat. Cousin is in a mood.

y/n: oh great

tina: Help us all.

syd: be nice you guys

WORK

[ 9:15 am ]

carmy: Everyone, we have huge catering orders tomorrow to prep for today. Please get here as soon as you can, the earlier you clock in the better. Additionally, please be careful what you post on social media. I don’t want people to get the wrong impression

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

syd: ok sounds good

richie poo: Cool it, Cousin. What’s the issue with the social media

tina: I use FaceBook. That not allowed now??

carmy: Tina, you’re fine. I’m talking about those who post work things on public accounts

marcus: facebook is crazy

richie poo: I can’t go private

y/n: he needs the likes

richie poo: No I’m disabled from doing so. Not sure why

y/n: liar

richie poo: 😑I don’t like you

carmy: Then please don’t post pics of yourself posting up with a gun and an air horn outside of my shop anymore.

marcus: that pic was fire can’t lie

carmy: Well, it’s bad for business.

richie poo: Fine, whatever

y/n: carmy

carmy: What, Y/n?

y/n: is this because of my caption on my post i’m sorry i promise i wasn’t being for real

carmy: I don’t care Y/n.

y/n: is that code for ‘i care a lot and i’m crying in the office right now and that’s why the door is closed’

oh

syd: ? why the oh

y/n: he opened the door and yelled no 🤨 but i think i saw red eyes

carmy: Please get back to work and I’ll comp a meal for you later

y/n: OMG yes chef 😍

richie poo: Inappropriate emojis and you shouldn’t have to incentivize her to work

y/n: shut up acting like HR i’m gonna beat your ass

jealousy is ugly which is why you have that mug on your face

carmy: Stop

y/n: yes chef 👨‍🍳

i heard your giggle tho

richie poo: Again with the schizo episode

syd: you can’t say that richie

richie poo: Oh sorry

[angstmongertina]

tell me about Seasong pls

Oh, that's another old one I haven't touched in a while, for a completely different fandom.

That one, perhaps not completely surprisingly, is a MerMay AU story. (For someone who mostly doesn't write AUs, I have a weird number of them on the list lol.) A friend had drawn MerMay art at some point for our shared ship in Tears of Themis (Hoyoverse mobile otome), and while I was gushing over the art, some ideas of how they might have met popped into my head, and then the next thing I knew, I was writing some of it down. Naturally, I then got distracted again, as I do, which is why I have So Many Goddamn WIPs.

It's also not very long and hasn't been touched in years, but have a snippet anyway because I did have fun with it! And maybe it'll give me some inspiration to chip away at it again.

Time really did move differently on the surface.

She had heard the tales, of course, from friends and family who had once dared travel to where the water met the sky, to surface with their cetacean cousins and feel the heat of the heavens upon skin and scales. They, their land-bound brethren, measured time by the passage of the sun across the sky, dividing their short lives into shorter intervals still, by the turnings of the heavens, by the movement of the moon, condensing their limited time into a whirlpool of activity, of growth and achievement and romance.

Their buildings, of blinding metal and pale rock, grew on a scale measured in days, not years; cold, lifeless behemoths that dwarfed even the oldest, even the most majestic, of the towers and citadels of her people beneath the water’s surface. She saw them from afar at first, dark silhouettes grasping for the heavens themselves, their forms casting heavy shadows that shifted, ephemeral, against the waves. Foreign, impressive. Captivating.

Too captivating.

Engrossed in her fascination, she felt not the sudden rolling of waves, heard not the roar of a mechanical beast from her back. There was only the hoarse shouts of awe, the burning chafe of rope against her skin. The sharp blow to the back of her head.

And then darkness.

[faerygrant]

knee socks - carmen berzatto x waitress reader

summary: four discoveries come about your and carmens secret relationship; he’s very into knee socks, you’re acquainted with a staff member he has a tricky relationship with, he can be possessive and weirdly enough he likes being called daddy?

You’d stayed back last night to help Carmen, despite the raging headache that had caused you to have to take a 30 minute break from waiting tables just to rest your head. Carmen appreciated that, and was not shy in showing you. Once he’d insured everyone had gone home for the night, doors locked and safety measures taken care of, he had come into the office and kissed you softly, before walking you to your apartment. Where things had escalated, resulting in you falling asleep stuffed and sated and Carmy going home with a pair of your panties.

Today however you felt refreshed, you’d woken up at the crack of dawn, showered, threw on your uniform and decided you’d wear a pair of knee socks due to the cold fall weather. You arrived to the usual chaos of The bear, Tina and Sydney getting started on prep, Marcus unloading the batter he’d made the night before and Richie barking orders at your fellow waitstaff about today’s schedule. Carmy however wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so you assumed he was in his office going over stock orders or doing payroll.

“Hey, you look pretty good this morning princess” Rich or Richie to everyone else, whispers into your ears.

“Don’t be gross Rich.” You mumble, grabbing your apron and tying it around your waist as he mockingly smiled back at you.

“Damn can’t even give out compliments anymore.” He throws his hands up in mock self defence.

Your and Richie’s relationship was simple, he was a longtime friend of your brothers and had always been mockingly flirty and playful with you, occasionally you’d reciprocate the flirtyness but it was all in good fun. Carmy however hated it, so much so that he’d ensure he did his best to put a distance between you two most of the time.

As the day went on Carmen would make subtle appearances from the office, coming into the kitchen to help Sydney with recipes she was working on, answering some of Tina’s questions, giving Marcus the green-light on some new dessert ideas, the works. But what you noticed from these appearances were the glances he kept making towards you, or specifically towards your legs. Until it finally hit you, it was the knee socks.

-

Carmen couldn’t think straight with the way you were just casually waiting tables while looking like a goddess. Your uniform clung so nicely to your body, your smile ever so bright and those god damned knee socks. He was convinced you were trying to send him into cardiac arrest. He’d never even known he had a thing for those until today and he wasn’t about to let them go to waste.

carmen 🐻

You busy right now?

you

Kinda, why?

carmen 🐻

Need your help in the office, now.

you

Alright, coming

-

"Hi" you smiled shyly, walking up to his desk and taking a seat on one of the chairs opposite his desk.

"Come 'ere " he says lowly, beckoning you forward with two fingers. You slowly get out of the chair and make your way behind the desk to his side.

"Hi, again" you say as you look down at him, with a sweet smile on your face.

"Hey, feelin' any better, since last night?" He questions as he turns his chair to face you and pulls you in between his legs, his hands holding your hips in place.

"Y-yeah a little, thank you by the way" you reply softly, flustered by the touch he was so lovingly giving you.

"Your welcome, just wanted to make sure you were alright, it was so worth it" he smiled as his hands began to roam, up and down your hips.

"Wh- why was it worth it?" You reply, voice barely above a whisper, as you look down at him though your lashes.

"I got to kiss you, touch you, and keep your panties" he smirked at the last part, knowing it was going to annoy you.

"Thanks for reminding me to kick you for that by the way." You playfully swat his shoulder and he fakes a pout. You began laughing at him.

"What?" He asks, curiously.

"Nothing" you smile as you lift your hands to play with his hair.

"No tell me" he insists, as he squeezes your hips and pulls you down, to straddle him.

"Mmm, it's just I didn't expect you to be such a softie" you smile as you move down on him a little harder, to feel his crotch.

"Of fuck- I" he tries talking but the feeling of you pressed down against him is too much.

"Fuck-“ he says your name “you're gonna kill me" he replies as he pushes his hips against you and you feel his hard on.

“These knee socks have been killing me all day, did you wear em just f’me?” He grunts the last part.

“I did, wanted to impress you.” You smile, wiggling into him.

“It worked, I’m fuckin impressed and so hard f’you.” He smiles into a kiss he plants on your lips.

"I want you now, please daddy" you weren't sure where the 'daddy' came from, but honestly you didn’t care at this point, you needed him. His eyes widen and you're pretty sure you feel him get even harder once the word leaves your mouth.

"I'm your daddy?" He questions you with a smirk on his face.

"Ye-yeah, daddy" you whispered as you continue to grind down on him.

"That's right, I'm your daddy, keep grinding on your daddy till you cum" he groans, face all red.

"Mmmm" you whisper against his neck as you continue. Just as you feel him moving to reposition you, the phone in his office begins to ring. You look up at him and he shakes his head.

"Leave it, keep goin" he groans as he pulls you down, once more. You're so close to your climax when the phone rings again.

"Mmm, just answer it" you groan as you attempt to get off him, he however pulls you back down and answers the phone.

"What?"

"Ok, and?"

"Fine"

"I'll send her in"

He slams the phone back down and kisses you hungrily once more. You oblige and bring your hands up to his hair.

"Who was it?" You ask, pulling back from the kiss.

"Dumbass Richie, he wants to see you, claims one the regulars is here and only you can help him service them" he spits, you can tell he’s annoyed by Richie’s interruption.

"Rich’s always been quite the mood stealer" you smile, as he kisses your neck lightly.

"Rich?" He questions as he pulls back from your neck and looks up at you.

"Yeah, Rich?" You reply confused, had you said the wrong thing?

"Why the fuck, do you call him that?" He asks angrily, as he lets go of your waist. Alright so Carmy’s moods did always change quickly, noted.

"He's a family friend, I've known him since I was like 18 he's like a brother to me, at-least that's how I feel about him." You reply, whilst putting his hands back on your waist.

"Alright then, Good" he says refusing to smile.

"Why the long face, hmmm?" You question as you smile at him.

"I don't want anyone else to have you, I'm territorial, possessive, I don't know call it what you want but you're mine now and I don't need anyone getting in the way of that" he smirks.

"Mmmm, I just loveeee being owned by men, it's so empowering" you say sarcastically.

"I don't mean it in that way, you know that" says Carmy quickly, afraid you misunderstood him.

"I'm just fucking with you, and this may sound a bit anti-feminist, but I like the thought of belonging to you" you whisper into his ear, leaving him groaning.

"Alright we'll, Rich’s waiting for me, bye Carmy" you say as you try to get off of him. His grip however is too strong and he manages to pull you back down.

"I want to take you out for dinner tomorrow night, somewhere nice but chill ,not too fancy." He says shyly.

"I- I would love too, also not too fancy? this doesn't sound like Michelin star chef Carmen Berzatto" you joke, and he simply smiles at you. He finally let's you out of his grip and you give him a sweet peck, before making your way to the door. Before you can leave the office he calls out to you.

"Wear something pretty ok?"

You turn around and smile at him before replying with poise, "only for daddy"

[slaybey]

act ii   COWBOY CARTER   3.29

"It's interesting, because a lot of people don’t know that Beyoncé is my last name. It’s my maiden name. My name was Celestine Beyoncé, which at that time was not a cool thing, to have that weird name. I wanted my name to be 'Linda Smith,' because those were the cool names.

I think me and my brother Skip were the only two that had B-E-Y-O-N-C-E. It’s interesting — and it shows you the times — because we asked my mother when I was grown. I was like, ‘Why is my brother’s name spelled B-E-Y-I-N-C-E? You know, it’s all these different spellings’, and my mom’s reply to me was like, ‘That’s what they put on your birth certificate’ so I said, ‘Well, why didn’t you argue and make them correct it?’ and she said ‘I did one time. The first time, and I was told be happy that you’re getting a birth certificate because, at one time, Black people didn’t get birth certificates."

- Miss Tina Knowles for In My Head with Heather Thomson (2020)

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 13

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 2651

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

Arthur called immediately after you hung up the phone with Tina and Chantelle and asked you to meet him at City Central Station at noon.

“I have to go out to Long Island,” he said, a heavy undercurrent of apology in his voice. “And I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to come with me.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you’d replied instantly.

Arthur laughed, surprised. “I, uh…well, I know it’s not very romantic. But it’s kind of an emergency and-”

“I’m there,” you said. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes,” Arthur said. He sounded tense, flustered. You wished you were in the same room with him so you could put his arms around him and calm him down. Comfort him with your body. Among other things. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Arthur assured you. “I’m not hurt or anything. I can explain everything to you on the train. I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry, Arthur,” you stopped him. “I’m happy just to spend time with you. No matter what we’re doing.”

You heard Arthur pause, releasing a relieved-sounding sigh on the other end, his tone softening. “I…I couldn't stop thinking about you last night,” he confessed. “I think I even dreamed about you.”

“Really?” you felt an uncontrollable smile spread across your face. Only Arthur Fleck could make you smile like a complete loon. 

“Sorry. Is that weird for me to tell you that?”

“No!” you blurted. “In fact, I dreamed about you!” 

Arthur laughed. “You did? Last night?”

“Uh…not last night, exactly.” You felt your cheeks heating up and felt glad Arthur couldn't see you blush. “Earlier. Like…maybe after the first time I saw you?”

“That’s sweet, Y/N. Was it a nice dream?”

“It was…very nice.” 

If only Arthur knew the true carnal nature of that first dream. You’d get around to telling him someday…hopefully sooner rather than later. 

And now, one hour later, here you were: one hour standing on the train platform waiting for him. 

You glanced around Gotham City Central Station at all the bustling people - still rushing, still hustling, still rat-racing on a Saturday morning. They were like hamsters on one big gigantic wheel in a cage called Gotham, and although you knew you were one of them, having a day off gave you a refreshed perspective: Exactly who was winning this race? Why did normal people have to work themselves into the ground just to scrape by? 

It seemed the winners of this race had already been called a long time ago. 

Among the noise, traffic and images vying for your attention all at the same time, you locked eyes with a poster of Thomas Wayne. You shook your head. He was on television all the time these days. People seemed to think Wayne could “fix” Gotham and wanted him to run for mayor. 

To put it bluntly: you thought those people were delusional. 

There was no denying Gotham was a broken place. But was the wealthy mogul Thomas Wayne really the one to fix it? How could he know what the people of this God-forsaken city needed to get back on their feet? How could someone born and raised with an endless supply of silver spoons in his mouth possibly relate to living on the fringes of society?

The crowd parted and Arthur appeared, holding a newspaper under his arm. He spotted you and smiled. You ran up to him and leapt into his arms. Arthur caught you, spun you, then dipped you over and kissed you. The two of you were living in your own musical fantasy in the middle of a dirty, overcrowded train station.

“I’m so sorry that this is our second date,”Arthur said as he lowered you to the ground. “I wanted to plan something more romantic…a walk in the park, or maybe a trip to the-”

“Arthur,” you stopped him. “Anytime we’re together is romantic. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now but here.” 

He smiled shyly and gave you a tender kiss on the cheek.

The graze of his lips against you triggered a slew of wants. You wanted to kiss him again. Properly. In fact, you wanted to do a lot of things to him. The memory of the soft pull of Arthur’s lips against yours the night before had stirred within you like a fever since then - but you were worried that if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop. And there were too many people around. You’d have to behave yourself. At least for the time being. 

“So where exactly on Long Island are we headed?” you asked. “And what’s this mystery mission you couldn’t tell me about on the phone?”

Arthur drew in a heavy breath. “It’s…look, I don’t want to sound crazy. I’m not sure if I believe it myself, but last night…”

He was interrupted by your train pulling loudly into the station. 

“That’s the one we want,” he jerked his head towards it.

“Oh shit!” you exclaimed. “I just remembered, I didn’t buy a ticket!”

“Don’t worry,” Arthur fished into his jacket pocket and pulled out two small pieces of paper. “I got yours.” 

After finding two empty seats together, you placed your hand on Arthur’s and listened. Listened as he told you everything: How his mother had been writing letters to Thomas Wayne (funny how you’d just been thinking about him…though to be fair, his smug face was plastered all over the city). How he hadn’t paid his mother’s compulsive letter-writing much mind. She was set in her ways and tended to overfocus on things that were of little to no consequence. And finally: how last night after coming home from your date, an unexpected burst of curiosity had cajoled him into reading one of her letters…

…in which his mother had disclosed something totally unexpected. Something shocking.

“Thomas Wayne?” you repeated, raising your eyebrows. 

Arthur nodded.

“Your…father?”

You blinked. This was so out of left field, it had gone past left field and back to right again. You struggled to pick a reaction; there were so many coursing through your mind and heart. You could only imagine how Arthur was feeling. 

“How did your mother even know him?” you asked, agog.

“She used to work for the Waynes. As their housekeeper. Just before I was born.”

You shook your head in stunned disbelief. “I have to say, I don’t know what to think. Do you believe her, Arthur?” 

Arthur was silent for a moment, and you gave him space to find the words.

“At first I didn't, really. She hasn’t always been…the best at telling the truth. She thinks things are real that aren’t. I wonder sometimes if I get that from her.” 

He unfolded the newspaper on his lap and began leafing through the pages.

“But now, when I look at pictures of him - and his pictures are everywhere - I can’t help but see a resemblance. Maybe it’s all in my head, I don’t know.” 

Arthur landed on a picture of Wayne and his wife, gazing admiringly up at him as he waved to a crowd. He tore out the photo and creased back the edges so you both could see it more clearly. 

“Do you think I look like him, Y/N?” Arthur asked. 

“I don’t know…” You scoured the famous man’s face. The curve of his cheekbones, the arch of his eyebrows. 

Like a bolt of lightning, it struck you.  

“Shit, Arthur. I don’t know if I’m going crazy, but…now I do kind of see a resemblance!” 

“I know,” Arthur said. “Now that I see it, I can’t stop seeing it.”

You peered in closer. 

“But why wouldn’t she say anything until now?” you leaned back in your seat. “Why wait all these years?” 

“She said she signed some papers promising she would keep it a secret. It was to protect me as their child, some big scandal coming out. But she said they loved each other. They just couldn’t be together.” 

“Jesus,” you sat back in your seat. Through the window, the entire world seemed to blur as the train lurched away from the city. “What a fucking rollercoaster.” 

“I have to go see him,” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “Talk to him face to face.”

“Of course,” you agreed. “Go to his house and confront him. It’s the only way to get to the bottom of this. ” 

You’d been to Wayne Manor only once before: a field trip in the second grade at Burnley Elementary School. Over a decade later, all you recalled about the visit were the Waynes’ dobermans that barked at you and your classmates the entire time. Like you were intruders even though the Manor was a historical landmark with paid tours.

The Waynes were a piece of work. 

“Come on,” you took Arthur’s hand as you exited the train station. There were no cabs around like in the Gotham, and the walk from the train station to Wayne Manor would take at least half an hour on foot. 

Long Island was worlds apart from the city. Away from the endless, screeching roar of Gotham, you could actually hear yourself think. 

You and Arthur made your way down the tree-lined roads. It was autumn and the leaves were beginning to turn gold and fall to the ground. You liked how Arthur made a point to always walk on the outside of the sidewalk, creating a buffer between yourself and the street. Maybe his mother was crazy, but there was no denying she had raised a gentleman. 

Arthur seemed to relish holding your hand, the sound of dry leaves crunching beneath your feet. 

“So what was that dream you had about me?” you asked playfully, giving his hand a light squeeze. You looked over to see his cheeks flush. His shy smile swept you off your feet.  

“Oh,” Arthur gave a small laugh. “I dreamed you were onstage with me.” 

“Doing your comedy act?” you giggled. “Like a singing, dancing comedic duo?”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “I mean yes. Kind of. We were singing and dancing together. I was in my red suit and you were…”

He paused. You shot him a quizzical look.

“I was what?” you prodded. 

“It’s embarrassing.”

“What was I, naked or something?” 

“No,” he shook his head. His face was even cuter (if such a thing was possible) when it was all embarrassed and flushed.

“You were wearing your Snow White costume.”

Not the answer you’d expected. You let out a laugh. 

“I guess that makes sense,” you conceded. “Given you’ve seen me in it at the children’s hospital.”

“It’s not just that,” Arthur confessed as you walked along. “It’s because…well, I didn’t tell you this at the time because I thought it would be weird. But Snow White was the first movie I ever saw in the movie theater.” 

“That’s not so strange,” you replied. “It’s a classic, after all.”

“Well…she was also my first love. Snow White, I mean. I saw her up there on the screen and I fell in love with her.”

Now you were blushing. And as stupid as it was, you also felt a pang of jealousy course through you. Yes, you were jealous of a cartoon princess Arthur’d been infatuated with as a child. It was beyond ridiculous, but the truth was: hearing Arthur loved anyone besides you made your heart pound with envy. You just hoped he still didn’t have a thing for her. 

“You know…” Arthur’s voice broke into your racing thoughts. “I hope this isn't weird of me to say, but…I'm honestly surprised you would ever be interested in someone like me.” 

You stopped in your tracks. Was he trying to give you the brush off? Tell you he was still in love with a childhood celluloid dream? Your heart was jumping up and down, side to side. You couldn’t imagine going on without him in your life. 

“What makes you say that?” you asked, measured tone and breath, trying specifically not to sound as psycho as you really felt.

Arthur shrugged. “I’m…older than you, I live with my mother. I have no money. And you…”

You wanted to protest everything he was saying, but reminded yourself to wait patiently for him to complete the thought. 

“...you’re a college student.”

“I was a college student,” you corrected him.

“You deserve to live in a beautiful place like this,” Arthur said, gesturing at the verdant surroundings. “Someone who can give you that.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” you blurted. You could feel another episode coming on and as much as you trusted Arthur, you really didn’t want to lose it in front of him again. You especially didn’t want to lose it because he was dumping you. And on Long Island, no less. Crazy behavior was normal in Gotham, but here they’d have you arrested for so much as a shriek here.

“No!” he shook his head immediately. “Not at all. I just…don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you from a better life. You know I have all these problems…”

You breathed a silent sigh of relief. He wasn’t breaking up with you. He was just concerned, thoughtful, putting your needs ahead of his. 

It only made your feelings deepen for him even more. 

“Does it bother you?” Arthur asked. “That I’m older than you?”

“No,” you replied. “Does it bother you? Have you ever been with someone younger?” 

Arthur pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one loose, bringing it to his mouth as he fished around his other pocket for a lighter. 

“I haven’t really dated at all,” he said with an embarrassed wince. “I’m not someone most people would…ever be interested in.” 

“That’s not true,” you said, still reeling from the shock that this beautiful, sweet, tender man had never dated. Though to be fair, knowing he’d loved anyone else would have triggered more jealousy. At the same time, you couldn’t wrap your head around how no one could see how amazing he was. 

“I’ve never dated, either, Arthur,” you pointed out. 

“But that makes sense. You're a lot younger than I am.”

You grinned slightly. “Have you been doing the math? How much?”

Arthur inhaled the first drag of his cigarette, and it billowed out into the clean Long Island air. 

“You told me what year you graduated last night. If I’d stayed in school, I would have graduated in 1964. Which means I'm fifteen years older than you. It took me a second to do the math. That was never my strong subject. None of them were.” 

You shook your head, then suddenly found yourself laughing. “Actually…”

Arthur looked up at you with big, worried eyes. “Yes?”

“I like that you’re older than me,” you confessed.   

“You do?”

“Is that weird?” Now you felt a little embarrassed. You didn’t want Arthur to think you were a freak, but you were just being honest. “I don't like guys my age.”

“You didn't meet anyone you liked at school? I'd think lots of guys would be interested in you.”  

“‘Interested’ is a relative term,” you scoffed bitterly. “The guys at Gotham U are…let's just say a lot of them are book smart. And come from rich families. But they act like fucking animals.”

Arthur frowned. “Animals? How do you mean?”

You shook your head. “I'll tell you about it some other time.”

Arthur nodded respectfully.

“The truth is, Arthur,” you continued. “I never liked anybody that way…until I met you.”

Arthur smiled at the ground as you plodded along in sync, then silently took your hand.

“I feel the same way about you,” he said. “When we’re together, it just…feels right.” 

“I know,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. “So many things in my life haven’t felt right…haven't been right. But this does. And if it feels right, nothing else matters.” 

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[safeandsound]

It’s the backwards hat for me <3

AND it's yellow ... she did this for me and me ONLY ❣️❣️❣️

[lillaydee]

I'm Right Here Part 9

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced/Supposed Sexual Assault, SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF HARM, Joel has PTSD

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 8

That first week after you left for Bangkok was a chaotic one. Everyone was on edge. Benny and Eric were questioned over and over again about what happened at the airport. Short of being tied to chairs and having spotlights shone in their eyes, they were effectively interrogated. Why didn’t you stop her? You should’ve begged harder, pleaded for your lives, threatened her, stolen her bag, picked her up and thrown her back into the truck. Anything. You should’ve made her stay.

Anita and Aunt Tina started researching plane tickets. They found out where the branch for the company was and got maps of Bangkok to study, determined to wait for you at the office entrance until you saw sense. It took a lot of convincing from Jake to stop them. The girl just left the country to escape this town. The two of you hounding her like that would only scare her further.

Calls went unanswered. Texts undelivered. Olivia ended up emailing you. You did reply, but it was obvious you were reluctant to communicate. Anita and Aunt Tina immediately took email classes from a young boy living a few houses over, wanting to email you as well. If that’s the only way you were communicating, they were not going to miss out on that. Their earnestness seemed to get to you, and before the week was out, you texted them both with your new number. And soon, everyone was back in contact with you, trying their hardest to get you to reconsider, to come back. Joel needed you, and they knew for a fact that you needed him too.  

***Warning - Sexual Assault***

Joel went back to the house he shared with you after coming back disappointed from the airport, shut the door and did not leave for a week. Didn’t answer his phone, didn’t go to work. He spent that week lying in your bed, mourning you, his face buried in your pillows, trying to get whatever’s left of you to calm himself down with. He tried to do what Olivia did. He tried to email you and later, text you. But the words he tried typing out made his fingers numb, his throat tight.  

How would one apologize for everything he said to you?

He couldn’t get the way you looked at him at the airport out of his head. There was such heaviness in your eyes. Such sadness in them. Your shoulders sagged, as if there was no will left in you to go on. He could feel your grief from afar, even through his tears. The grief for Eddie’s passing. The grief for the loss of your friendship with him – the one connection to Eddie you had left, the one person who knew Eddie as well as you did, if not better. The grief of having to be alone simply to have some semblance of a peace of mind. The knowledge that he put that sadness and grief in your eyes made him feel hopeless for the kind of man he had become. He was angry with himself. This was not him. He hated this version of himself.

He wanted to make it up to you. Go after you. Beg you to give him another chance. Make things right with you. Start a life with you. You’re everything he had ever wanted. But he knew, despite what other people, yourself included thought, he knew he needed help. He just… needed time to process this whole thing. He didn’t know what’s what anymore. He didn’t have the answers to any of the questions in his head.

He felt dirty. Humiliated. Embarrassed. Infected. Contaminated. Gross. Disturbed. Impure.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

How could he have let this happen? He was a man. A horse of a man. Strong. Reliable. Masculine. How could he let a woman like Jen get to him like that? He felt as if he was drowning in a sea of shame and he was doing everything he could to stay afloat but failed. He hung on to you during that time, but found himself losing grip every now and again, images of Jen in his room in his shirt invading his thoughts. He tried so hard to remember what happened. Did he… participate? Did they have sex? He couldn’t even step into his room anymore, not without thinking of Jen and what might have happened in there. Eventually, even looking at the door of his bedroom brought him to that time. His frustrations got bigger and bigger, and it eventually blew up on you.

He had woken up that morning to find you gone. All he could think of was Jen might have done something to you, had gotten to you and hurt you. His hands shook when he saw Jen getting on top of you by the roadside that day. He realized that you were not safe as long as you were with him. Jen would do anything to get you out of his life. Any rationality he might have left flew out the window and he unloaded on you.

You. The one person he needed to feel sane again. The one person he knew could bring him out of the fog he was in. The one person who made him feel safe.

And he said what he said. To you.

He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Tommy what he said to you. He couldn’t even bring himself to face you to say how sorry he was for saying them. He couldn’t even look at your name on his phone.

A week after you’d left, Joel went to bed to find your comforting scent gone from your pillows. He could only smell himself on it. He tossed and turned all night, only managing to fall asleep as the first birds started chirping outside the window.

He started taking measures to sleep then. A few sips here and there a couple of hours before bedtime. And when that didn’t work, a few glasses. Before the second week of you being gone was out, he was half a bottle in before bedtime, and by the third week, he was going through an entire bottle a day, maybe a few pills here and there, just to help him settle for the night.

He dreamt of you one night. You didn’t say anything to him. Just looked at him, tears in your eyes. He woke up feeling as if he had failed you massively. He realized how close he was to losing a grip on reality. He needed to see you. Beg you for forgiveness. Do anything to have you back in his life.

But how? An email seemed futile. A phone call wasn’t enough, much less a text. He needed to see you.

He booked himself a flight to Bangkok. He will go over. See you in person. Get on his knees and beg you to forgive him. He’ll migrate if that’s what it took for you to take him back. Leave this town. Start fresh. With you.

Maybe the miles and the couple of seas between would get him out of the fog that was Jen. Fuck the trial. Fuck the possibility of being a deadbeat dad. Fuck everything else. He will face whatever fallout that comes, he just needed to get things right with you first. Nothing else mattered at this point. You. You were the only one who mattered.

The day before his flight, he couldn’t sleep again. Maybe it was his nerves. Maybe it was his fucked up sleep schedule. Maybe it was the excitement of seeing you again. He took some pills and downed two fingers of whiskey to wash them down with. He fell into a deep sleep, his bags packed and ready to go see you the next day.

You were kissing him. You peppered kisses on his body, from his lips to his crotch. You went down on him. He was floating on air. Your sweet mouth on his tip, your tongue lavishing its attention on him. His body arched from the sensation. You felt incredible. You took him deeper and deeper into your mouth, your fingers scratching his belly as you bobbed up and down on him. He was on top of the world, about to crest when you moaned his name.

Only it wasn’t your voice.

His eyes flew open. He was dreaming. Only it wasn’t a dream. Someone was in the room with him, going down on him. Everything came back to him like a freight train. He switched the light only to find Jen between his legs, her eyes glassy as she stroked his erection, moaning his name.

No. Not again.

He kicked her square in the face. She fell back, unmoving on the floor. He called the cops immediately, Tommy right after, sobbing into the phone.

Tommy, Will and Benny arrived just as the cops did. Jen had regained consciousness, and she was arrested for breaking and entering and assault. She was hysterical, claiming that he had invited her over, that they were just doing what lovers do, only for him to go berserk on her.

She couldn’t prove any of this. There was no phone calls, no texts, and all signs pointed to a breaking and entering. The CCTV footage of her breaking in from his neighbour across the street didn’t help her case. Coupled with the fact that she was due in court for the paternity test in a few weeks, she couldn’t claw her way out of the charges. She was begging for mercy, she’s pregnant, she told them. She was hormonal. He was denying their relationship, she needed him to own up to what he had done. To admit that they were deeply in love. Please, officers, please.

No one listened to her.

Joel honestly thought things would get better. She was in custody. She will be investigated. She could not get to him anymore. Truth will out now, faster than it would have been if they had to wait for their day in court. But he couldn’t get what happened out of his head. He thought what he had been through the past few weeks had been bad, but he had been proven wrong. This was no vague recollection, this was not something he couldn’t remember. This was something that actually happened, something he couldn’t deny. Whatever worries that was plaguing him before came back threefold. Whatever feelings he had about himself, the shame, the self-hatred, all came rushing back, hitting him full on in the face.

He had let it happen again. For real, this time. His self-pity and weakness, his vulnerability and attempts to heal himself without outside help had allowed Jen to take advantage of him, yet again. Whatever resolve he had to go to you, to start over, all disappeared within those few minutes that he woke up to her taking advantage of his weakened state.

***some unintentional self harm coming***

He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes Jen was there. His skin was crawling. He could feel her fingers all over his body. He could hear her voice every time there was silence. He couldn’t bring himself to go home to the house he shared with you. The safety of your bedroom was now tainted with Jen too. He crawled into the single mattress he had brought into Tommy’s spare bedroom and locked the rest of the world out, hardly eating, not sleeping, filling his ears with music to stop from hearing Jen’s moans of his name. He washed his penis over and over, trying hard to scrub any essence of Jen left off his member. He repeated this day in and day out, until one day the music stopped drowning Jen’s ghostly moans out. He took a pill to help him sleep, washing it down with cheap whiskey. When that didn’t work, he took another. And then another. And then another.

And then he took some more.

He woke up to his Mom sleeping with her head on his bed at the hospital, her face covered in streaks of tears. Tommy and Jake were talking in low voices, Tommy standing up straight when he noticed his brother awake. Jake gently shook Anita awake, the woman immediately getting up and smothering her oldest son in hugs and kisses, telling him how glad she was that he was okay.

They avoided talking to him about what happened. All he knew was that Tommy found him having a seizure, his mouth foaming. They had to pump his stomach, and he was in mandatory hold at the psych ward, on suicide watch.

“I didn’t try to kill myself, I just wanted to sleep. It was an accident,” he had insisted. No one believed him. He needed to talk to someone, they said. Get help, they said. “No,” he tried again. “I didn’t try to kill myself. I just needed sleep.” “Even so,” Anita had coaxed, “You couldn’t sleep, darling. There was a reason to that. Get help darling. Please.”

It was frustrating. He felt as if everyone was trying to get him to work on their schedule. Their preference. Their needs. Not his. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t talk about it. It wasn’t time. He couldn’t do it. He needed more time. But no one was listening to him. He nearly died by his own hands, so his opinion didn’t matter.

He couldn’t go back to sleep. They refused to give him anything for it. He had almost overdosed. No narcotics for him. All he needed was sleep. He was sure of it. Tommy called you and tried to get you to talk to him, convince him to get help. He hadn’t slept in days at that point, his mind refusing to shut up. To his horror, he unleashed on you, yet again, even from thousands of miles away, even without speaking directly to you. He had repeated the horrific things he had said to you over a month ago, and you had hung up. He knew there was no going back now. You wouldn’t listen to him now.

Tommy interrogated him after that phone call. Why would he say that out loud, knowing that you could hear him, especially since he was obviously miserable with you being gone? Joel finally told his family what he said to you. They all finally understood why you left, finally agreeing to leave you be, not to try to get you to come back, conceding that you needed time, space, away from Joel.

They finally eased up on him, understanding that he too, needed time. He felt lighter after that. Even managed to get short bursts of sleep, and after a few more days, managed to get them without your teary face haunting his dreams.

A week before he was released, he was allowed to walk freely around the common area, his mind cleared, his body stronger, now that he had gotten some semblance of a rest. He was struggling with opening a packet of chips he had gotten from the vending machine, his frustration evident in his demeanor when a woman took the packet from him and helped him open it.

“Thank you,” he said, embarrassed that he had made a scene over a packet of chips.

“Happens to the best of us,” she had replied. “I couldn’t get the Jello packet open since I’ve been here. I have a stash of it in my side drawer. Care to join me for a Jello party? I figured out how to open them with that plastic spork thing they give us. You can bring your chips,” she offered.

“How many Jellos are we talking?”

“I’ve been here two weeks. There’s more than twenty in there. All kinds of flavours.”

Joel smiled. For the first time since that day Jen came into his living room and announced the news that tore his life apart, he smiled.

“I’m Joel.”

“Annie.”

The stunned silence in your little curtained section of the ER felt like forever. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, but you didn’t want to look. Over the years the others had tried to tell you things about him. But you had always changed the subject. You didn’t want to know. If he was doing poorly, you would feel guilty for running away, and it would break you, so you didn’t want to know. If he was doing well and moving on with his life, you would regret the fact that you ran away, and it would break you, so you didn’t want to know.

What you didn’t expect was to find him 15 years later, married, with a teenage daughter. What you didn’t see coming was that this piece of information didn’t break you.

It crushed you.

How many relationships had you been in over the years? How many attempts at moving on had you taken, only to discover you hadn’t let go of the idea of a happily ever after with him? How many men had you turned down because they reminded you too much of him in one way or another?

Sarah broke the silence.

“She needs surgery, Dad, on her shoulder.”

Joel’s stunned look immediately turned into one of concern.

“Did you dislocate it again? You fell on it?”

Annie, Sarah and Mike all looked at Joel.

“You know each other?” Annie asked.

Joel didn’t hesitate. He nodded. “All my life. Annie, Sarah, this is Daisy.”

Annie and Sarah’s faces lit up, looking at you in excitement.

“Daisy? The Daisy? Daze?” Annie asked.

“You’re Auntie Daze? Oh my God I’ve always wanted to meet you!” Sarah chirped, bouncing a little, coming over to you as if to hug you. Joel stopped her, reminding her that you were hurt. Mike stood up and excused himself, telling you he would come visit when he could. You thanked him for his help, and he quietly left, wanting to give the four of you some privacy.

Before anyone could say anything the nurses came in to take you up. The three stepped outside as they did. You could hear Joel asking the doctor questions about your condition, you could hear Annie talking to someone on the phone. When they drew the curtains back to take you up, Annie came to your side.

“We’re gonna take Sarah home and come back later with the others, okay? Do you need anything?”

She took the plastic bag that was placed by your feet and rooted around for your hotel key card. “I’m gonna go over with Olivia and get your things okay? You don’t worry about a thing.”

It was as if you were in a dream. This woman you had just met just talked to you as if she had known you forever. As if this was a daily occurrence. As if she talked to you every single day.

The woman who married the man you were in love with, the one you spent years to get over.

Sarah came over, “I have to go back. Dad wants me to rest. But I’ll come back and visit with Grandma, okay? Thank you for saving me Auntie Daze,” she said, leaning down to kiss you.

You almost flinched away.

“How old are you Sarah?”

“Fourteen.”

Your eyes found Joel’s. He looked away.

Shit.

Your mind was spinning. You left 15 years ago. Jen was pregnant 15 years ago. Was this…?

You were wheeled off before you could say anything.

Annie sat by your bedside after you came back from surgery. She had come straight back to the hospital after going to your hotel room for your things with Olivia. She had gone back to work, promising to come back after. The family chat was filled with questions about you. How is she doing? Let us know when she’s awake. Can we come visit? Is she allowed visitors today? Let’s give her some space, she might get overwhelmed if everyone comes at once. Let’s take turns. Annie, you can stay with her this evening, right?

She watched you as you slept. She had only met you once, a few hours ago. You were already taken to surgery when she came back. But she felt as if she had known you for 15 years. She knew everything there was to know about you. Joel had never stopped talking about you. She kicked herself for not recognizing you sooner. She had seen pictures of you from all the vacation photos Olivia, Anita, Aunt Tina and Eric had shown her. She had wanted to meet you for the longest time but understood that she couldn’t. She knew that you didn’t want to know anything about Joel, and she was a part of his life.

They kept her and Joel updated about you. She didn’t miss the way Joel’s face lit up every time your name was mentioned, nor the way his rare smile decorated his lips every time he saw pictures of you. She could see he wanted to know more, wanted to ask questions about you, wanted to hear more stories about you, but he didn’t. He never did. So she did it for him. Sarah too, sometimes. The way his entire body relaxed when he heard you were doing great made it all worth it.

She also didn’t miss the way his body tense up every time someone mention you being in a relationship, nor the way he would deliberately make himself scarce whenever pictures of you and said boyfriends were passed around for everyone to see.

She didn’t miss the way his face fell every time your heart got broken either.

She sat by your bedside, waiting patiently for you to wake. She couldn’t wait to properly meet you. The woman she had heard about for the past 15 years. Daisy. Daze. The woman her husband married at age six. The woman he built a treehouse for when he started learning the trade. The woman he pushed away 15 years ago.

The woman who was still the love of her husband, Joel Miller’s life.

Part 10

[toonice113]

Disconnect ⋆ ★ N.Hischier

Pairings: Nico Hischier x Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: After a rough start of the year for the devils Nico feels the pressure of being captain but when you feel him start to spiral you are there to catch him.

Warnings: Nico and reader share a shower, but no explicit content. not edited.

Word count: 734

⋆˚࿔ tina's note 𝜗𝜚˚⋆  just a little thing I wrote today after the game, Imma need for them to stop interviewing him after the losses he looks so sad pls(idk if they interviewed him today but all the other times), for the devils to give this man a win, and for whoever to give this man a long hug and just hold him for a while I swear. (If this sucks I'm sorry I'm sleepy and wrote it super quick)

You are in the family room having a conversation with Nicole while keeping your eyes on your phone waiting for the message to come through, After yesterday’s loss you boyfriend had told you not to wait for him and the only thing you had heard from him since then was a ‘thanks’ message as a reply to you wishing good luck in today's game. You had asked Timo to let you know when Nico was leaving so you could catch him on his way out not wanting him to be lonely right now feeling like you had given him some time for himself yesterday.

“It just sucks because they are really trying but it’s just not going their way” Nicole sighs and you nod, knowing all too well what she was saying and with Nico it seemed to be ten times worse since he kept blaming himself for the state of the team as he was their captain “Jesp was in bed by like seven last night, what about Nico?”

It's your turn to sigh “He wanted to be alone yesterday so he asked me not to wait for him I actually haven’t spoken to him yet” The blonde looks at you with sorry eyes “I think he just doesn’t want to vent because he feels like it would be a burden or something but he carries so much on his own and I know he thinks he can’t let it out because he’s the captain and is supposed to be the strong one for the team, I just wish he would take a day to disconnect but I know he won’t do that right now, I’ll still try to talk to him about it later though, this is not healthy for him”

As you finish your sentence your phone buzzes, it’s Timo letting you know that Nico has just finished his post match interview and is packing up to leave, you say a quick goodbye to Nicole and walk out ready to intercept him on his way out, you left your car home so you could drive with him after the game so that’s not a concern for you. Your heart breaks as he rounds the corner, his head low and shoulders slightly slouched not taking notice of anything around him, you walk towards him and hold his hand falling into step once you catch up, he doesn’t say anything, only squeezes your hand and you two walk to his car. When you arrive at his car you take his keys “I’ll drive us home you just rest” You tell him and he nods too tired to fight you giving you a quick peck before getting in.

The drive to his apartment is quiet, and although there’s a lot you want to say to him you let him enjoy the peace, when you get home he kicks his shoes off and as soon as the door clicks closed he  pulls you into his arms and you feel him melt as you reach your hands into his hair “Why don’t you go take a warm shower while I order us some food” You tell him but he shakes his head and holds you tighter 

“Don’t want to let go” He says, his voice deep and slightly slurred due to exhaustion even though it’s only 4pm 

“Okay let’s go take that shower together then” You say and start walking towards his bathroom while he still holds onto you, only letting go as you two undress and pulling you back as soon as you get under the hot water. You help him wash his hair and he returns the favor and once you’re both clean, even though you already were since you had a full shower before the game, you walk back into the room getting dressed in warm sweatpants and sweatshirts, he lays his head on your stomach holding onto one of your thighs closing his eyes as you run your hands through his damp hair, you feel him fall asleep quickly and decide to let him rest for the rest of the day leaving the conversation you know you need to have with him for the next day when he is better rested opting for ordering food from your favorite chinese place a couple streets away from his apartment “You rest my love, you deserve it” You mumble leaning down to kiss his head.

[writers-hes]

Sydney Saw it First (c. berzatto x reader)

You’re Carmy’s friend from Noma and he asks tou to mentor Marcus before he heads to Copenhagen to stage. Sydney thinks you’re both fools in love and she’s determined to fix it. (fluff, sydney being the best wingman, inspired by the scene in new girl when nick points his shoes to jess, two fools in love)

navigation | main master lists

It was hard for anyone to read if the Carmen Berzatto cared.

Some days, he was loving but most days he was tenacious. It’s not like he meant it. It was just how he was wired; how he reacts to things. The crew learned that the hard way, when he exploded on Marcus, when he screamed at Sydney…when the stress gets to him, it really gets to him.

He’s imposed penance on himself for his actions, secluding himself from the world…being unreachable. If there was one thing in the world that he craved and that he was afraid of, it was love. So he secludes himself until he feels alone. Relationships were unnatural to him.

But it came naturally with you.

You were training to become a pastry chef at Noma when Carmy was there. You met each other at the halls, shared friends that it was inevitable for you two to become friends. He was your first taste tester when you first made croissants. He helped you make your own sourdough starter for the sourdough cookies that you were experimenting on. You were the first person whom he cooked his mom’s picatta. You were his sous chef, helping him prep the vegetables on important dates. When news arrived detailing Mikey’s death, you were the first person he called. 

You two were great. You were great.

If anyone deserved praise, Carmy thought that it was you.

He didn’t know why but when he saw that Marcus was really interested in pastry, he called you; asked you to come and teach a really, really eager student that was going to stage in Copenhagen soon. Sydney also suggested that sweets are needed in a restaurant. You didn’t hesitate to board the plane upon his request. If anything, you were glad that he was finally asking you for a favor. It only meant that he was still—if not more—comfortable with you. 

You arrived in Chicago all smiles, and greetings. It was Richie and Carmy who picked you up from the airport and Richi was floored. How did his cousin even manage to tolerate you? He didn’t hate you immediately, of course. In any case, Carmy told you about his little girl; you decided to bring her a little gift. 

“I didn’t know what to get you but Carmy said that you have a daughter so I got this instead,” you said, extending a toy. “My niece has the same one…so, I figured…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie nodded. He muttered a small ‘thanks’ before helping you with you luggage. 

The night before, Carmy instructed everyone during family to behave. 

“Look, there will be no funny business, alright? My friend is flying in tomorrow to oversee Marcus and act as his mentor while we fix the Bear. No taking her knife away, no screaming, no fighting, no fucking anything, alright, chefs?” he asked. When he was met with silence, “Alright, Chefs?”

A couple of ‘heards’ were thrown. 

“Who is this friend, anyway, Jeff?” Tina asked. “You didn’t tell us to behave when Sydney over here first came,”

“Someone from Copenhagen. She, uh—“

“She?” Sweeps asked, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. “You got a girl, chef?”

“No,” he replied. “She studied in Copenhagen as a pastry chef, okay? No big deal—“ he proceeds to mention your name and how you’re just really super cool. “No big deal—“

“Wait, Chef, that’s a big deal!” Marcus said. “Oh, you know her recipes are all over my station, right?” he asked. “Sydney—“

“I went to the place she worked at in New York after I graduated. Everything’s just so…good. Amazing,” she recalled. “So, yes, it’s a big deal,”

“Yeah, whatever. Just promise me to behave, alright?��� Carmy asked. “She’ll have to make do with what we currently have but I’ll try to stock up and set up the station before she arrives tomorrow.” 

-

You arrived at the Beef—er, the Bear a day after your arrival in Chicago. You were able to find a place that was near the city center for a good deal. You were here indefinitely, still trying to figure out if you wanted to run your own bakery or just work with others for the rest of your life. Seeing Carmy take the leap was insipiring. 

“Hello, chefs, I’m Y/N,” you said, a friendly smile gracing your features. Carmy was right beside you, watching everyone. “I’m a pastry chef and I graduated with Carmy in Copenhagen. I’m here to mentor Marcus but of course, if you have any questions regarding anything, you can ask me. I know how to cook too…and uh, I’ll be taking care of family tonight,”

Carmy jerks from his relaxed position. 

“You sure?” he asks softly. “I can take care of family, if you’re too tired.”

“Yeah. It’s like initiation,” you nod, looking at him and then looking back at the new faces in front of you again. “Do you have any questions…”

Sydney raises her hand. 

“Um, I’m sorry if this comes across rude but why are you here?” she asked.

“Oh, well, I’m not really tied down to anything right now. When Carmy called me, asking if I could come here, I decided to go. I’m here in Chicago indefinitely and I’ve been receiving invitations to cook, teach a class, whatever. I might accept some of those,” you said. Sydned nodded. Damn, Noma’s chefs were being chased from left and right. She was in the presence of two. 

“Do you have a little notebook?” Tina asked, making Sydney scofd. “With recipes?”

“Um, no,” you shook your head. “I keep all my notes in my head and then write it afterwards,” Tina liked you already. 

“What do you think about Carmen Berzatto—“

“Anyway, that’s all, Chefs! Marcus, come to the office with me, chef,” Carmy said, breaking up the huddle, and making you laugh. He discreetly pulls down your shirt, a sign that you should follow him too to the office. When you were both out of earshot, Sydney asked no one in particular.

“That girl and Chef? There’s something,”

That afternoon, during family, Sydney watched the two of you like a hawk. Confirming her suspicions when Carmy stayed for family and sat beside you.

-

Sydney notices it for the second time. You were going over the Noma “picture book” with Marcus, telling him how some of the desserts came about.

“What’s this?” Marcus asked, pointing at a photo of the dessert that put you on the map. 

“That’s a dish of candied hallabong peel, with a prosecco peach sorbet, on a bed of meringue, topped with candied cherries. I got it because some of my friends went to Jeju sometime and brought back this orange hybrid. I think….I think we can recreate it but it wouldn’t be the same without the orange.”

“What about the flesh and the juice?”

“I turned it into like an orange-chocolate cake with chocolate mousse,”

Carmy was just passing by but he decided to watch you interact with his employees instead. 

“Anyways, where’s your chocolate cake? Let’s taste it and compare it from the last one. Also, I can send you my recipe for sourdough doughnuts. Just give me your email,” you said, looking up briefly to find Carmy already looking at you. It made him feel good to see you incorporate yourself so well in the kitchen. Well, it’s not like the Bear is open but his staff went to you for some tips and advice. They were all undergoing some sort of training to make everything more elevated. “Hey, Carm. Do you need anything?” 

“Hey-hey,” he coughed, ashamed for being caught. “Nothing. Uh—“

“Chef, did you ever try Y/N’s stuff?” Marcus asked. He’d really, really, really want to taste something that you made someday. They were all delicate and so detailed. It’s probably why you got multiple awards at such a young age.

“I did. She used to bring big Tupperware containers of things they made in the kitchen,” 

“He finished them all,” you told Marcus. “Wouldn’t spare me a bite,”

“I don’t know, bug,” he teased. “I vividly remember you begging me to do it because you were so sick of fucking croissants.”

“You’re so annoying,” you huffed, a playful smile on your face. “Go on now. Marcus and I have stuff to do and you’re distracting us.”

“In my own restaurant,” Carmy mutters, shaking his head. Sydney’s eyes immediately directed to Tina. Did you see? Did you hear the word ‘Bug’?. Tina only shrugged. 

-

Sugar dropped in to check on the improvements being done at the Bear  when she saw you and Carmen at the back, talking. She had to double take what she saw because it was quite…odd to see him talk to you with the same twinkle he used to have. She has never seen him like this. He was genuinely laughing at some of the things that you were saying, a shared plate of leftover chocolate cake between the two of you. 

“Who’s the girl outside?” Sugar asked, looking at Richie and Sydney for answers. 

“Some fancy pastry chef Carmy met in Copenhagen,” Richie replied. “It’s a whole bet now, you know? They’re always out in their own world ever since she got here,”

“Everyone puts in 10 to predict what’s going to happen,” Tina said. “You’re betting?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sugar says, giving a bill to Tina. “I bet…I bet they’ll fall in love right before she leaves Chicago. Like, on the way to the airport. Carmy’s going to tell her that he loves her and she stays,”

Laughter echoes in the room. 

“This is not some fucking movie, cousin,” Richie said. “Obviously, Carmy’s not gonna do shit about it.”

“I think…she’ll call him over and they’ll share a moment,” Marcus said. “He’s always at her place, did you know that?”

Meanwhile, unaware of the ongoing bet, Carmy looks at you.

“What do you think about Chicago?” he asked, a cigarette hanging idly on his fingers. 

“It’s nice…chilly,” you said. “But it’s nice. I’ve been offered jobs here, you know?”

“Hm?” he asked. “Are you planning to take them?”

“I’m…thinking about them. They’re all the same but like, I want my own bakery, you know? My own place.” you said. “It’s going to be a lot of work if I do that and I don’t necessarily have the staff to do all that.” you said. 

“If you want…you can come stay with us if you’re not sure,” he offers. “Like a pastry chef. Actually, I’ll have to ask Sugar and Sydney if it’s alright with them but you can stay here,”

“Bear, I don’t want to impose—“

Sydney was walking outside to throw the trash but she stopped her trackes when she heard you talk. 

“I want you here,” Carmy said with conviction. “But if you don’t-don’t like it here in Chicago, I wouldn’t mind either, you know? It’s just that…I want you here and-and fuck, I don’t know. I guess working with you made it so much more fun again, you know? Like us in Copenhagen. I mean, we’re always a team and-and it’s nice to have you here with me. Sugar and spice? Sweet and spicy or whatever the fuck they called us back then,” he chuckled, inhaling his cigarette to calm himself down. “We can make it work,”

“Yeah, yeah. You go talk about it to Nat and Syd,” you said, taking a swig of your water. “And then we’ll talk. Cool?”

“Cool,” he shrugged. Sydney leaves and goes back to where the commotion was. 

“I change my scenario,” she said. 

“You can’t do that, Sydney,” Richie said. “It’s a bet! You have to pay again,”

Sydney breathed, what was ten more, right? Fuck. 

“Fuck, sure, okay. Whatever,” she said, giving Richie the bill. “She’ll stay here. She’ll realize the there’s nothing waiting for her back home and she’ll stay here,”

“Where did you get this?” Fak asked. “Quite—oh my God. Sydney, did you fucking cheat?” 

“No, I didn’t fucking cheat!” she defended, it was a lie. “Can’t you see the two of them? Always in their own world? How would Carmy let her go?”

“Jeffrey has a point,” Tina shrugged. “But if she loses, just know that you lost twice, Jeff,”

“I know,” 

-

You, Sydney, and Carm all went to his apartment. It was where the two of them made a menu while you acted as a consultant and a taste tester. Their palates were fucked and they didn’t know what to do or what to cook anymore. So they asked you. But you weren’t there today. You and Marcus were in your apartment, making up stuff for dessert. The Beef has officially closed down and is a rubbled mess. There was no space and Carmy just wanted to be there with you.

“Can I ask you something and you can tell me to fuck off?” Sydney asked while she watched Carmy plate the hamachi crudo. 

“Hm?”

“Do you…have feelings for Y/N?” she asked, looking at Carmy. He blushed, his ears turning red for being caught.

“Is it obvious?”

“To everyone but her,” she shrugged.

“Fuck, really? I thought I was being discreet,”

“Oh, you can stay here! You’re so good and so smart and so pretty,” Sydney gushed, mocking Carmen.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “I…I do,”

“Yeah?”

“I just…just…she’s uh, so amazing, and like, I’ve been feeling these feelings since…since Copenhagen,” he mumbles, finishing the garnish with an oil. 

“Damn. You never made a move?” she asked, getting forks. She gives one to Carmen and they both taste the crudo. It was amazing. “That’s good,”

“It is. Good job, Syd,” Carmy replied.

“It was her who told me to try adding jalapeno slices,” Syd said. 

“You can’t do that,” Carmy warned her. Why did she want to get you two together so bad? “But I haven’t done anything. I mean, like, she was dating these guys and they’re so cool that-that it was never really my turn,” he remembered.

“But you’re the best chef in the world! That trumps that,” she encouraged. “None of them worked out?”

“No,” Carmy shook his head. “She’d always end things and I don’t want that for myself. She told me none of them worked out…wasn’t what she was, uh, looking for?”

“Oh,” Sydney nodded. “Well, if you’re feeling brave enough…”

“I haven’t been having…fun,” Carmy acknowledges. “With the Beef and the Bear until she got here, you know? Made me feel like I was young in Copenhagen again,”

“Another question. You can say fuck off if you want,” Sydney says and watches as Carmy bites a smile. “The last one. Is that why you asked her to stay? It’s just that I heard you the other day and…”

“Fuck off,” he laughs but Sydney noticed how everything about him conveyed everything that she needed to know. 

-

“This is a quenelle,” you told Marcus. You, Marcus, Carm, and Sydney were at your apartment. It was bigger than Carmy’s and your oven didn’t have jeans in them. “This took me at least a hundred tries,” you chuckled. “You just…away, back, and then hands…” You demonstrated, making a quenelle of a yuzu mousse.

“Damn, Chef. How’d you do that?” Marcus asked, trying it for himself. He failed, his quenelle being a little bit smaller than yours. 

“I had a friend named Luca. He didn’t let me out of the kitchen until I made a perfect one,” you recalled. “Carmy was there and he was laughing at me. He could do it in like three tries and I remember hating him,”

“You hate me?” he asked, leaning on the countertop. He didn’t like to hear about Luca. He only wanted you to talk about the two of you.

“Hey, Bear. Try this?” you asked, spooning him the raspberry curd. Carmy opens his mouth and you walk over, feeding him the pinkish liquid and then watching his face. “It goes with a black sesame shell. Do you like it?”

He notices your close proximity and flushes.

“Y-yeah,” he coughed, looking away. “Really good. Uh, very good,”

“No notes?” you asked and he swore he could kiss you right there because you were so beautiful.

“No notes,”

“Thanks, Chef,” you said. Sydney whistles as you help Marcus master his quenelle. Carmy looks at her and she teases him with a mockery of what he just said.

Carmy and Marcus left after cleaning up. You and Sydney decided to have a girl’s night. You were both sitting on the couch, mud masks on your faces when she turned to you fully.

“You know, he likes you right?”

“Who?” you asked, trying to fit a handful of chips.

“Carmy,” you heard and you choked on the bits of chips in your mouth. 

“Fuck!” you choked. “Sydney!” You were coughing while Sydney handed you a glass of vodka cranberry. You gulp it down. “You—can’t say shit like that!”

“What?” she laughed. “Look, I’m not kidding! Whenever he talks to you, his feet are pointed at you. I’ve read enough fucking books and body language shit to know that he’s interested,”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “That’s bullshit,”

“It’s not though,” she shrugged. “He asked you to stay for a reason,”

“He needs a pastry chef,” you shrugged. “Besides, he and I are friends, Sydney. I’ve been trying to get him jealous all my time in Copenhagen but he never…he never got the signal,”

“Oh,” Sydney nods. Two idiots in love. “Have you ever tried telling him?”

“Of course not! He’s always on about how he doesn’t have the energy to love or date. I tried the jealousy thing before but it never worked. Trust me, there’s nothing.”

-

Carmy arrives at your doorstep the next morning, bright and early. Sydney had already left, telling you something about stopping by at her dad’s apartment to get stuff. You were going to the Bear with him to help Sydney choose plates for the restaurant. 

“Good morning,” he greets. Two cups of take-out coffee in his hands. “I got us some coffee while we walk on the way,”

“Thank you,” You took the cup from his hands and clutched your jacket tighter. It was so, so, so cold. “Didn’t know it was going to be this chilly today,”

“You wanna wear my jacket?”

“You’ll be cold,”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said, already taking off the jacket to the best of his one-handed ability. He was only wearing a gray sweater underneath. “I have something. See?” He doesn’t take no for an answer, taking your coffee and your bag from you so you could wear the colorful jacket.

“Thanks, Bear,” you said, smiling at him. The sight of you in his clothes does something to him and he couldn’t help except give you a slight nod before forging on in the chilly Chicago weather. 

You both entered the Beef giggling amongst yourselves when the usual buzzing stopped.

“Remember when Luca—“

You halted, finding the silence odd. You looked around to see everyone looking at you.

“What’s wrong? Is something wrong?” Carmy asked, removing his hand from the small of your back. “Syd—“

“Love the sweater,” Richie teases. You look down and feel the warmth on your cheeks. 

“It was cold and he asked me to wear it,” you shrugged, leaving Carmen to deal with the staff out front. You were signalling Sydney for help but she only looked away. Traitor. “Um—“

“Y/N, if you could please help me out here,” Carmy called you. 

“Your boyfriend’s calling,”

“He’s not!” you huffed before walking over. “What is it?”

“I need you to time me, is that okay?” he asked. He nodded towards the stopwatch and you complied. “Thank you. I just need to check or like, map out the kitchen you know?”

“Of course,” you replied. 

“Do you need help getting on—“

“It’s okay it’s just an old thing,” you replied.

“Yo, cousin! If you’re done eye fucking, Sugar needs you.” Richie calls.

“We’re not eye-eye fucking!” you complained. “What the fuck?” You stood up from your corner before you could even work and accidentally looked down. If a man is interested his feet will—

You move to the side and Carmy follows. And then to the side again. 

“Y/N–“

“Stay there,” you asked, walking around him and him turning around. “Carm!”

“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders. He looks down to his shoes. “Are my shoes dirty?”

“No, it’s just—“ you tried again but Carm still followed. “Sydney told me about like, how when a guy is, uh,”

“Cousin!”

“Fuck, okay. Let’s talk about it later okay? Once everyone’s out?” he asked, looking at you. “Can we do that?” His jacket felt softer on you than it ever did on him.

“Yea-yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll go help Sydney,”

The afternoon passed by and you were alone at The Bear. You waited for Carmen to finish up at the dining area like you promised. Your heart was beating so fast, maybe a thousand miles an hour. What Sydney said has been on your mind and what if it wasn’t true and you get embarrassed? Fuck, could you even handle that?

You sighed, burying your head between your hands when Carmy walks over to you. 

“What’s up?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” you nod. “Can you stay there and just, I don’t know, be Carmy?” you asked, standing up to test the theory again. He just stands there, dumbfounded. You circle around him and he follows. You were looking on the ground. 

“Fuck, what the fuck?” he asked. “Is there something wrong with my shoes? I know they’re old and not—“

“Carmen, shh,”

“What?” he asked, grasping your shoulders for the second time that day to steady you. “What’s wrong?”

“Fuck, I don’t—“

“What’s wrong?”

“Sydney told me that there’s like, this body language thing and like, uh, says that when a guy is interested his shoes are always pointing at you and well, she told me to look at yours,” you rambled, looking away in embarrassment. “Look, if this will be weird between the two of us, I mean—“

“Why would it matter?” he asked, hands inching closer to your neck. He was nervous but maybe this is the opening that he’s been waiting for for years. When you didn’t reply, he asked again. “Why would it matter?”

“Because…because I’ve been trying to make you jealous for years in Copenhagen and it never worked,” you whispered. You were embarrassed. It felt like you were in high school telling your crush that you liked him. “I know you don’t see me that way,” you replied, trying to look for the right words. Carmy lets you finish. He wanted to hear you. “And it’s fine. If this is stupid, let’s forget that this ever happened. Okay? God, I’m so fucking embarrassed right now,” 

“Hey, hey,” he cooes, his thumb tucked the hair back and then caressed your cheek. “Whoever said that I wasn’t jealous? I had to leave all the time because I was so fucking jealous. Those guys were cool. Don’t-don’t be embarrassed, okay? I like hearing that-you, uh, like me,”

“Carmy…don’t lie to me, okay? You don’t have to pretend—hm,” 

Carmy had just kissed you. Carmen Berzatto just kissed you. You were clutching on his shirt so tightly, afraid that if he lets go, he’ll be gone. But he doesn’t. He just trails his hands down to your back, touching skin to skin until you’re one. 

“I’ve been waiting years to do that,” Carmy rasps, breathing heavily. 

“Yeah? Then, do it again,” you whispered, smirking slightly at how he seemed to blush hard. Before you could tease him though, he tucks your hair back again, bringing your lips closer to his.

He did.

A/N: Thank you for giving my recent fics so much love and for being so motivating. Your kind words really make my day and I hope that you love this too. Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thanks again!

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