Tumgik
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
409 notes · View notes
Note
Where’s Party Anthem chapter 8 girlie!?
HELP ! Oh my gosh BESTIES im SO sorry for the wait😭😭😭😭 ! ! ! ! I promise you all , chapter 8 will be coming , unfortunately i became an academic victim rather than an academic weapon this year 💀 DAMN am i being worked like a dog . . . but dw ! I will be coming soon to slay the day ! funny enough, i was actually thinking abt posting the next chapter this weekend as i think i have time to edit it . . . 🤔
we will have to wait and see besties ! but i promise , i will be back 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
1 note · View note
freshbakedbreadstick · 3 months
Text
Jeremy Allen White stripped back in downtown NYC. Directed for Calvin Klein by Mert Alas. [x]
3K notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 7 months
Text
THROW ME ON THE LIST MIS AMORES MUAAAAAAA !!!!
Happy Latino/Hispanic Heritage Month!!!
Tumblr media
To all Latine writers, artists, graphic makers, beta readers, and all members of the fandom: happy Latino/hispanic heritage month!!!
I know I’m off my game and posting this a few days after the start of heritage month but things have been busy and I lost track of time my bad 😅
Shouting out some of my fellow Latine friends here below!! Please follow and support Latine writers and artists, especially in fandoms of Latino actors like Pedro and Oscar!!! Support Latinos and support poc!!!
@flightlessangelwings @rae-gar-targaryen @moonlight-prose @marvelousmermaid @lavenderursa @dailyreverie @practicalghost @beskarboobs @heythere-mel @flordeamatista @simpingcowboy @pennyserenade @salome-c @edencherries @allegra-writes @castleamc @miguellohara @mrsmischief209 @juletheghoul @stargirlfics @tolkienblackgirl @furious-rogue-stuff @hausofmamadas
Here is also an extensive list of Latino writers to check out and follow and support!!
I’m sure I’ve forgotten people so please add to the list in the reblogs and let’s spread more love to our fellow Latine writers and artists here!!! ❤️❤️❤️
252 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And they are the best of friends
The Bear (2022)
The punisher (2017)
1K notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 7 months
Text
101 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!!
Tumblr media
BABES........ I AM OVERWHELMED WITH HAPPINESS AND EXCITEMENT ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! i am sosososooss honored by all of you joining me here all because of my silly little writing, i just cannot believe this is happening ! ! ! I am so grateful that you all exist and i thank you so very much for bringing me to this amazing milestone, i couldn't have done it without you ! I love you all so very much ! New chapter of No. 1 Party Anthem is out now ! Check the A/N for some VERY important news !
1 note · View note
freshbakedbreadstick · 7 months
Text
No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Seven
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: You finally got what you came for. 
Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, grief, angst, strained relationships, arguments, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, al-anon. Vague mentions of guns (specifically the sights and the sounds). 
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: SURPRISE SHAWTYSSSS ! I got another chapter out for you all <3 i love n miss you all very much and i hope you enjoy some more of this slow slow slow burn . I have a lot of fun things planned for the last couple of chapters for this series so be prepared for that ! You heard that right babes, this wonderful journey will be ending soon, BUT FEAR NOT, i will be making a spin off for Season 2 of The Bear in this universe ! This series may be over, but the story is not over yet ! I love you all, many hugs and kisses for you, i hope you all have a wonderful day and enjoy the chapter !
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic @eternallyvenus @jackierose902109
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You sat at the dining room table, wrapped in a soft, warm blanket. In front of you, your mom placed plates full of sliced fruits, sauteed foods, and some dishes of your favorite food. You slowly turned to look up at her, your eyes droopy and bags dark. But your mom didn’t look at you, she just turned around and kept on cooking, trying her best to conceal her swollen and red rimmed eyes from you.
All you could do was turn back to the steaming and fresh plates of food in front of you, trying your best to work up an appetite, but nothing seemed to work. Not the glistening juices of the fresh fruit, not the delicious scent of sauteed vegetables, or even the sight of your comfort food; nothing. 
All you could do was sit there, body sagging under the plush blanket that was wrapped around you.
“Come on sweetheart, please have something…”
Your dad sat across the table and in front of you, reaching over with a tiny yellow and lilac fork to pick at some of the food and lift it up to you. His eyes pleaded with you, switching between watering and blinking the tears away. 
Slowly, your mouth opened very slightly, prompting your dad to practically jump up in his seat and reach over to give you a spoonful of your favorite food. Despite the taste being one that normally made you excited and happy, today it tasted like nothing. 
Your mom plated the last food she had just finished cooking on one of her finest china plates before placing it down on the table with the 10 other plates of food. She then moved to stand behind your dad, eagerly looking at you with a sad glint in her eyes. But, nonetheless, she leaned forward and watched as your dad used the tiny fork to feed you. 
It wasn’t until your 5th bite that she had to excuse herself out of the kitchen and to the bathroom where she muffled her cries with a towel. 
Your father continued to feed you, doing his best to alternate foods to keep you engaged, the same way he would do for you as a child. He watched as you, his baby, looked lifeless in front of him; a shell of your former self. 
“What are we doing today?” you managed to rasp out, voice faint.
Your father’s eyebrows knitted together, “Whatever you want…”
You hummed softly and sighed before turning to look away at the floorboards. Your father could only watch the way your eyes look off into the distance, the glint that you had before gone. 
Your mom came rushing back into the kitchen, cardigan sleeves rolled up to her elbows before stopping in front of the sink to start washing up the dirty utensils and plates in there. This made both you and your dad glance up, seeing her suddenly move so quickly.
“You have the Al-Anon meeting tomorrow, don’t forget that, okay? You might want to wash up today to be ready for tomorrow.”
You pulled the blankets around you tighter, muffling your words as you spoke, “I don’t think I can go tomorrow, Mom…”
“You are going.”
This made both you and your Dad perk up, glancing at each other in confusion at her firm tone before turning to your Mom. 
“What?” 
“You heard me. You are going tomorrow.”
Your Dad rushed up from his chair, “What do you mean? She’s not in the right place for that right now, I think she just needs to rest-”
“Absolutely not. She will go tomorrow and that’s final.”
“Shouldn’t we discuss this first, i mean-”
You mom slammed down the plate she was washing up, making both you and your Dad flinch at the sound of the ceramic breaking in the sink. 
She threw herself around, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, to look at you straight in the eyes, “You will go. I can’t keep grieving my daughter when she has been alive and right in front of me the entire time!”
Your Dad gasps and launches himself forward, grabbing your Mom’s shoulders and dragging her out of the kitchen. But she just continued to cry out as she was whisked away, staring at you as you sat there, heart in your stomach. 
From behind the kitchen door, you could hear them having a hushed but heated conversation. You could only make out a few words, all expressing their own pain and grievances with this whole situation.
Then, her words hit you.
I can’t keep grieving my daughter when she has been alive and right in front of me the entire time!
It had been over half a year since Mikey died, and you weren’t you anymore because of it. Grief became of you. And your biggest fear is your current reality: you got so caught up in not wanting to burden others with your pain that doing so ended up becoming said burden. You ignored everyone else’s pain, unconsciously, in an attempt to run away from your own and only caused them to worry when they too were grieving. They were grieving a brother, a cousin, a friend, a boss, a coworker; they too were grieving.
Exactly like how Carmy said to you. 
You knew you fucked up, but it never really hit you properly, until now when you could see it; when you saw your parents, who typically put up a brave face for you, begin to unravel in front of you.
Your chair scraped loudly on the wood floor as you stood up, making your parents’ conversation pause before they both peeked inside to look at you.
“I need to go tomorrow.” You announced, shakily. 
They stared at you, silent.
“I can’t keep living like this.”
You woke up at 9 am that next morning, rushing over to start getting ready. You put on your favorite outfit, the same one that Mikey loved seeing you in, before moving to the mirror to adjust your appearance as you saw fit. 
Your mom came rushing into your room at 9:50, chewing on her bottom lip, “I got breakfast for you, you ready?”
Breakfast that morning consisted of everything you loved to eat as a kid, adjusted for your adult taste. From sweet to savory, all your favorite breakfast foods were there along with your dad who kept on organizing the table for you. 
Neither of them bothered to look at the clock, just watched you with watery eyes as they clung to one another, seeing the way that you ate everything you could get your hands on. Not eating well the day before made you wake up this morning with fiery hunger that was satisfied with their cooking.
They both drove you to the Al-Anon meeting, not caring that you were now a bit late for the meeting. They just glanced at you, over and over, staring either through the mirror or over their shoulder as the car inched closer and closer to where the meeting would take place.
Your dad turned off the engine of the car in a spot at the back of the building, silently eyeing you through the rear view mirror one last time. Meanwhile, your mother anxiously fumbled with her seatbelt strap, avoiding looking at the spot where you had argued at just a couple days ago. And while you too felt a knot forming in your stomach as you sat there in the backseat and looked out at the building, you knew you couldn’t run anymore. You kept saying that to yourself these past weeks, but now you really knew what it meant. 
You turned and yanked the door open, eyebrows furrowed, and stomped out. Your mom and dad glanced at one another before looking at you, seeing the determination written all over your face. 
Right as your mother tried to open her car door, you reached out and pushed it closed again. She looked up at you, eyes wide, “Sweetie?”
Her voice was shaky and she spoke barely above a whisper. You couldn’t even hear her as she spoke, but you managed to make out her words through the glass. 
“I need to go in alone.”
Your mom glanced over to your dad, who sighed heavily, “I don’t think this is a good idea-”
But you shook your head and smiled softly at them, “I left all this behind alone, so I need to come back to it alone.”
Your mom whipped her head away from you, hands shaking as she yanked a tissue from her pocket up to her face. Your dad could only reach over and embrace her as best as he could over the console of the car before nodding at you.
“We will be here, waiting for you.”
With a firm nod, you started walking to the backdoor of the building. 
You walked into a quiet hallway and saw the first door on the right slightly ajar. The sign on the door spelled out ‘AL-ANON TODAY, JOIN US. ALL ARE WELCOME’.
With silent steps but a puffed chest, you walked forward, reaching out to the handle of the door.
And that’s when you heard it again.
The click of metal.
You froze, feeling the blood in your body run cold. It sounded clear as day, right then and there. It even echoed in the silent hallway, proving to you that it wasn’t a phantom noise but a real click. 
The suffocation began, inching its way around your body, ready to worm its hands around your neck to choke you while you panicked with a rapidly beating heart. But before it came, a voice managed to hook onto you and pull you back to where you stood in that empty hallway.
“My name is Carmen. My um… my brother is an addict. My brother was an addict.”
Unconsciously, you looked up and opened the door wider. 
There, at the very end of the room, was Carmy.
He sat in a chair, in front of a bunch of chairs, some filled and many empty. He had his hand partially over his mouth and partially over his chin, how he usually had it when he was nervous and thinking about what to say or do next. 
This made you inhale sharply. 
But he didn’t look up to see you. He didn’t even notice you actually. He just stared at the floor with his unruly hair and flushed face.
“And this morning i um… sorry uh… i forgot,”
He trailed off, making your body sag. 
You stepped forward, hands shaking but eyes locked on Carmy as he sat there.
“Before I came to Al-Anon, i was a cook, i mean, i’m still a cook, just a different kind of cook, i guess…”
You made it about halfway into the room before you felt some hands gently grasp your shoulders and guide you to a chair. The touch was heavy, but gentle as they sat you down in a chair in the very back of the room, pausing to rub their thumb into your shoulder before disappearing. When you turned to see who it was, you saw no one there.
“My brother and I, we would cook a lot together, especially when we were kids. You know, that’s… that’s when we were closest… food was always our common ground.” 
You swallowed the heavy knot in your throat.
“We wanted to open a restaurant together. We had a name, we had a vibe, all of it…”
A tear fell down your cheek as you looked at Carmy, your mouth half open as you took in sharp, staggered breaths, listening to his words. 
“My brother could make you feel confident in yourself… You know, like when I was a kid, if I was nervous, I was scared, I wouldn't want to do something, he'd always tell me to just face it. Get it over with… he would always say… uhm.. stupid… he would always say um… let it rip,” with a brief laugh, Carmy glanced up before his gaze fell back down to the floor again.
All you could do, as you listened to Carmy’s words, was sit and stare right at him. Every single thing that came out of his mouth would absorb through the pores of your skin, making you feel as if a part of his words made up your person. 
It all made sense now. 
Carmy’s avoidance; the way he would move so cautiously around you as if you were a piece of hot glass, the way he would avoid your eyes when you would see each other, the way he would speak to you less and less about his own life. 
It made sense.
He was hurting, for years, in the same way you were hurting now. The mixture of anger at what is happening, guilt over feeling your emotions, sadness, desperation to reach out and make that connection, fear driving you to get away from it all, all of that hurting that felt since Mikey’s death, was what Carmy was feeling for years.
Carmy lost his brother way before he died on that bridge that night. 
“Because that restaurant, it has and it does mean a lot to people… It means a lot to me…I just don't know if it ever meant anything to him…” 
As he finished speaking, Carmy finally turned to look at you. But instead of his usual reaction, Carmy just continued to look at you.
As he rose from his seat up front, he walked over and sat down a couple rows down from the front. 
“Thank you Carmen,” a woman, whom you recognized to be Amanda, got up and smiled empathetically before turning to the room, at the very front, “Is there anyone else who would like to share something before we wrap up today’s meeting?”
Your body moved before your mind could even comprehend what you were doing, “I would.”
Amanda squinted around at the seats until she locked eyes with you, smiling softly and nodding. She gestured to the seat at the front, “Remember, this is a safe and open space for you all to share, if you feel inclined to speak, go ahead. If not, that’s perfectly okay as well.”
Your limbs were completely numb, but despite this, they moved forward. They guided you around the seats and down the side aisle to the front of the room before stopping at the chair. Amanda had since sat down so you were left alone at the very front of the room, mind finally catching up to your body and leaving it unsure as to what to do next.
You scanned the crowd, seeing the faces of unknown people all look at you, not with pity or confusion or fear, but with understanding. They knew what it was like to be you. They knew what Carmy meant. They knew. 
Then, you locked eyes with Carmy.
You continued to look at him as you slowly lowered yourself to the seat, hands gripping the arm rests with sweaty palms as you did so.
It took another minute for you to get yourself to speak, finding your voice to have been lost for a moment before it came out, and with a lot to say. 
Your eyes immediately went to the floor, “My boyfriend… he was an addict.”
The room was still.
“And i was stupid enough to not… know… there were warning signs, yea, but i never once thought to… to put the pieces together.”
Someone shifted in their seat, fabric rubbing against the plastic of the chair. 
“But um… i never… I never knew him to be an addict. I knew him to be loud, funny, confident, brash, stupid at times… but never once did I think he could be… he was… an addict.
He worked early mornings and late nights, taking me along with him and always sneaking away to… press a kiss on my shoulder or on my forehead before he went right back to work. And while he hated it when i tried to help out, he would insist that i was too pretty to be working, he would sometimes relent and let me do something to help.
I never knew how bad everything was, even in those moments when I got involved…”
Carmy watched as your hand shook while you spoke. 
“I loved him so… so fucking much. I don’t think he ever fully understood that. I would do anything for him, but it never seemed to fully get through to him…. I um.. I never told anyone this but… our relationship wasn’t always the best. Most of our arguments were about him being away so much… I felt like he never uh… never fully let his guard down around me… i know now it was because he didn’t want me… uh… finding out…
We would break up and make up within a day, usually he would apologize with flowers or food and pick me up and spin me around, swearing to never be away from me again and i would apologize too but… within a month he was back to working long hours and stuff…
But he did try, he would pick me up flowers every week, bring me food, cook breakfast for me and leave it for me to have while he was at work… he even took me out to lunch once. And those days that we did get off, when we went out together, those were the greatest days of my life. That’s when I saw him, that’s when I saw my Mikey…”
You looked to the ceiling, ignoring the tears in your eyes and instead focusing on the lines of the ceiling, “Everybody loved him, and I was no exception. He was like that, with people, he was a magnet, he knew what to say and when to say it… He always knew what to do…
And I don't know. I… I don't know what to do. I never did.
What kind of girlfriend does that make me? I didn’t even know my own boyfriend, despite years of being with him…
During the weeks after he d…” you paused and cleared your throat, "I got a… weird sense of urgency to look through some of the drawers of our apartment and i found…
I found a small box…. With a ring.”
You let out a shaky sigh and blinked rapidly, looking at your shaking hands as they rested on your lap.
“It was… it is beautiful. It had gemstones in all the right places and the colors were beautiful… i knew who it was for…It even had a receipt with it too and… the date was from… two years ago. 
He uh, he bought the ring and held onto it for two years. 
On the back of the receipt was writing. It had different locations written on it that we knew of like his office, the refrigerator of the restaurant, and even the bathroom. But they were all crossed out except for ‘drawer’, which is where i found it…
He will never know how much i loved him… and i will never know how much he loved me.”
With a laugh, you shrugged, “I don’t even know where the ring is! I just threw it somewhere while i was throwing it all in boxes. A part of me died when i lost him, but another did too when i found the ring… and the last part of me died when i left it all behind. I just had to run, you know? I couldn’t be around it anymore, I couldn't. Everything reminded me of him! Every fucking thing from the cars on the street to the cracks in the pavement. The whole fucking city looked like him!!! I couldn’t be here anymore… so i left….
But i'm back now and i… but i just… it’s… i can’t… he will never know how much i love him… and i will never know how much he loved me…”
121 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 7 months
Text
Progress Check + Update !
Hey besties ! I just wanted to pop in and say hi, i am not dead ! I am just very busy with art school lollllll but i do have some WIPs for you all ! I promise you all that i did NOT forget about any of you lovely amazing beautiful beings, i think abt u everyday as i wish i had more time to write <3 here's a quick sneak peek/progress check into what i have a-brewing in my evil pot of alfredo sauce just for you all ! I hope you all have a lovely gay day and wait patiently for the next update MWAH ! ! ! !
CURRENTLY IN PROGRESS
No. 1 Party Anthem (CHAPTER SEVEN): Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader, Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader, Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Il Matrimonio Segreto (ONESHOT): Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
(UNTITLED ONESHOT): Aaron Taylor Johnson x F!Reader
(UNTITLED ONESHOT): Carmy Berzatto x F!Reader [NOT CONNECTED TO NO. 1 PARTY ANTHEM UNIVERSE]
5 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
choose your fighter, fucked up chicago baby girl boy played by jeremy allen white edition
674 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 8 months
Note
helloooo i'm the ao3 anon, hi!! thank you for putting the story on ao3 ilysm 🫶🫶🫶 i don't open tumblr very often but now i don't need to worry for missing an update haha. chapter six made me 😭😭😭 carmy and reader pls hug each other, y'all NEED it.
AHHHHH AO3 ANON HI ILYSM2 ! ! ! <3 i totally get it, ao3 is an amazing platform and now its there 4 u ! ! ! (: IM SO SORRY LOLLL the angst was tew good to not add, i even got a bit sad while writing it LMAO we r all in this together besties ! Carmy and Reader WILL be hugging soon, anticipate it in the next coming chapters 🫶 ily all sm besties !
0 notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 8 months
Text
Hi Besties ! I'm on AO3 ! ! !
That's right ! ! Im finally on AO3! After debating it for a while (aka procrastinating it jk i was actually busy with moving lol) i have cross posted No. 1 Party Anthem onto my AO3 ! I will cross post all my fics (present and future) onto there and update them after i post it on here . For the sweet anon who asked me about this, i never forgot you <3 Here's a link to take you directly there and another to take you directly to No. 1 Party Anthem on there (: ily all sm !
0 notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 8 months
Text
No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Six
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: The human mind is a very scary thing.
Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, funerals, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, interventions, al-anon. Depiction of a gun and implication of suicide in a portion, not graphic but heavily implied/hinted at during a possibly distressing nightmare sequence.
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: A little late bc i just moved into my dorm for the year <3 its been quite the adjustment so i took a bit of time to myself to just relax and get used to things ! ! ! Anyways today was my first day of class and it went SO GOOD ! ! ! ! Im so excited for the semester and the school year in general ily all sm have a slay day besties ! Also this is just angst again im sorry i swear it will get better at some point but probably not nowwwww 😭
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic @eternallyvenus (MWAH <3 )
Masterlist
Tumblr media
You stood in the back of the room, leaning against the wall and wearing some sunglasses you dug out from your bag. Your arms were crossed and your face was neutral but, behind those dark frames you wore, your eyes darted back and forth between each person who sat in the chairs around the circle and to Amanda, the leader of this Al-Anon meeting. 
Some were at ease, sharing freely and even throwing jokes in between their talks, while others sat stiffly and managed to get up on their shaky legs and share their own narratives. 
But somehow, none of them judged one another. 
Beside you stood your mom, gripping her purse straps so tightly that you could see the straps bending in her grip. She tapped her foot softly on the linoleum, smiling empathetically to each person and applauding politely when needed. But every once in a while, she would glance over at you and look away quickly, shoulder slumping and smile fading. 
Your lips formed a line as you continued to look as neutral as possible, staring as the meeting started to get wrapped up. Amanda spoke to everyone, clasping her hands together before waving everyone off with a soft smile. 
Everyone got up from their chairs, some joining one another to talk while others moved toward the door a couple feet away from you. They passed by you, most not really turning to you while a couple politely nodded and left. 
But as the room started to get emptier and emptier, that scared-nauseous feeling came back in full force when your mother put a hand on your forearm and looked over at Amanda. 
“You know, Natalie was the one who recommended me to take you to some Al-Anon meetings… but it was Carmy who told me to take you to one after you ran out…”
You glanced over at your mom, eyebrows furrowing. 
“Why?”
Your question was both a rhetorical and actual one. Part of you was confused as to why Carmy was the one who spoke to your mom about the argument at The Beef earlier. Carmy was the person who didn’t bother to show up to Mikey’s funeral and refused to reach out to those who tried to contact him, so why would he even bother to care about you facing your own feelings about this situation?
But another part of you was touched. 
Carmy was the kid brother who would follow you and Natalie around when you were in middle school. When you were in high school and started to date Mikey, Carmy was the kid that you would playfully bother when Mikey wasn’t giving you attention. As an adult, Carmy was your sense of peace whenever he was around, providing you with a much needed distraction during Berzatto family gatherings when he would finally open up (after much pestering on your part) about his own life away from Chicago. And while it seemed like that sense of peace was gone as he got farther and farther away from everyone, this news made you realize that it had never left. 
He still wanted to give you that peace you desperately needed when it came to his family. 
Your mom turned to look at you and gently reached up to take your sunglasses off. She looked into your eyes, seeing the way the bags under your eyes looked darker while you both stood in the corner of the room. 
With a heavy sigh, she responded, “Carmy told me that he had just started to attend some meetings himself. Natalie told him over and over to go to some but he… he hadn’t gone until now. And when he heard the news that you came back, he jumped to tell me about taking you. Especially when he saw your erratic behavior, he knew you wouldn’t go unless we were the ones who took you.”
You looked away, arms falling to your sides. 
“Please give it a try, please… you know that Mikey wouldn’t want you stressed out like this…”
Your chest tightened, “I… I don’t know what Mikey would’ve wanted anymore.”
Amanda called your name as she began walking over to you, making you quickly rub your eyes and look at her, “Hey you two, how are you feeling about possibly coming to a session?”
You shrugged and looked to the floor, “I’ll have to think about it but… I might.”
Amanda smiled and nodded, “I know this is a huge first step and I understand that you need time to think about it. Our next session will be in two days, you're free to join us if you would like to. And, you're free to bring someone for support.”
You nodded and glanced at your mom, seeing her smile at you from the corner of your eye. 
You soon found yourself back in your car, packed haphazardly full of your stuff, and looking out of the passenger’s seat window. 
You leaned your head onto the glass as your eyes looked out the window at the way the sky started to turn from blue to orange. By the time you got home, the sky was filled up with colors similar to the ones you saw while sitting on the hood of your car all those months ago. 
The car slowly pulled into the driveway and standing on the sidewalk, with his hands in his pocket, was your dad. He waved and smiled sadly, making you sigh and look away. You could feel the way your cheeks began to burn and your chest tightened. 
Silently, he approached the car and opened the trunk. You passed by him, watching him begin to start to unpack the trunk that held the boxes of your life, one by one. 
The three of you, in silence, emptied the entirety of your car. Any of the boxes and other belongings you had previously kept there were now placed in your room, each getting a designated spot and most getting unpacked completely. 
The way that everything just seemed to fall into place in your own childhood bedroom made you shiver and walk away as your parents continued organizing. 
In the dark hallway, you paced. Your fingers busied themselves with picking the skin of your bottom lip, leaving it raw and sting whenever your tongue ran over it. It wasn’t until your parents came back out that you managed to get yourself to pause, ignoring the way it stung.
Your mom smiled sympathetically and passed you, placing her arm comfortingly on your shoulder. You dad though, he paused and let your mom get downstairs and away from the two of you before he spoke up, “Some habits are hard to break, I know that, but staying here for a while will be good for you, okay honey? I love you so much, we all do, and we want you to stay.” 
Your eyes stung a bit, making you flutter your eyelids to stop any tears from forming, “Okay… I think… okay.”
Your dad wrapped his arms around you and hugged you. His arms squeezed around you, tight, as if you were going to fall into pieces if he didn’t hold onto you hard enough. You winced and he did so, but let him hold onto you. 
“Your my little girl and I would,” He began to speak again, pausing as his voice cracked to clear his throat before continuing, “Your mother and I would never be the same if anything happened to you. We love you so much.”
“Love you too, Dad.” 
As you watched him go down the dark hallway and down the stairs, you felt your lips sting as you began to taste a salty wetness. The decision was done: you would stay here for however long it took to heal and would attend the Al-Anon meetings in the meantime.
Now that this major decision was made, it was time for another. 
“Time to fix my fuck up,” you mumbled to yourself.
Later that night, after you had dinner and began to unwind for the night, you went over and sat on your bed. After washing the day’s bad choices and tears down the drain, you had changed into something comfortable for bed. You hummed, feeling satisfied with the soft clothes you wore that you completely forgot you even had, thankfully your parents’ unpacking and organizing allowed you to find them easily and happily. 
With an exhausted groan, your back hit the plush mattress. You bounced softly for a second before wiggling around to get comfortable before pulling the blankets onto your body. With a glance to the ceiling, you began to think.
You had messed up majorly with Carmy, Sugar, and Richie; well, with the entirety of The Beef. You knew that you definitely needed to apologize and try to make things right, especially considering that you would be staying here now and could run into them. You might be the type of person to flee in the face of trouble, but you knew that not apologizing would sour your relationship with them even more than it already is. 
And while it was a bit overwhelming to be around them now, you did miss them. 
Showing up and just apologizing en masse made you cringe a little. You knew that Carmy probably wouldn’t receive that well, he was stubborn and held onto anger so this wouldn’t just be an easy thing to forgive for him. Richie would be a bit hesitant to show vulnerability in front of everyone so the tough and funny guy act would be brought up, and that wouldn’t feel like you properly apologized to him. And Sugar… she would take your apology in a heartbeat but… you didn’t want her to. She was tough when she wanted to be but was always too kind with you. You didn’t just want this to be a forgive and forget moment for her, you wanted her to be upset with you and let you work on gaining her forgiveness.
“I can’t let her be a doormat…” you whispered to yourself. 
But while you laid there, on the soft mattress of your childhood bedroom, the cocoon of blankets and fresh air that made it perfect to get all snuggled up started to work against you. The warm plushness made your thoughts get blurrier and your eyes droop and while your breathing got deeper and deeper, your body gave in to sleep. 
You narrowed your eyes at the orange sun, letting yourself blink until your eyes got adjusted to the room. You then looked around and gasped when you realized where you were. 
You were back in the kitchen of the place you and Mikey lived in together. The bright setting sun had come from the giant window of the kitchen, the window that overlooked the streets and had a view of the city, the exact window that made you and Mikey decide to rent this place in the first place. 
Everything looked and felt hazey, half drowned in the warm yellow lighting of the sun. As you looked down at your hands, you saw them also overlaid with the sun, feeling warm and looking… healthy. 
Someone started humming behind you, voice deep. You whipped your head around to see who it was and was faced with the back of a tall, broad man. 
He wore a black shirt that stretched over his muscular body. As your eyes wandered up his form, you noticed the attractive and slightly messy dark hair that was on his head.
“Baby?”
Your heart stopped. 
You began to stumble backward, gasping giant gulps of air as your eyes zeroed in on the man in front of you. Slowly, he began to turn around, and give you a good look of himself.
His dark brown eyes focused on you. His eyebrows creased together as he watched you reel back, almost falling to the floor.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
You let out a strangled cry as he began to move forward, reaching his toned arm out to grab you. You froze, eyes trained on his large hand as it came closer and closer to your skin. You squeezed them shut, terrified. 
His hand felt warm as it gently wrapped around your own. 
You felt yourself being gently guided up and forward. The hand then let go of you and an arm wrapped around your body, resting the hand against the small of your back. Another hand wrapped around you on the opposite side and you were pulled close against a broad chest. 
You could feel the way his relaxed heart was beating, unlike your own racing one.
“Mikey…” you whispered in a broken breath, eyes still clamped shut. 
Your entire body was stiff as a board as you stood there, but it began to betray you and give in to the person in front of you.
“Look at me baby,” The voice said, rumbling but calm.
With a sharp inhale, you began to blink your eyes open. You looked at the face in front of you, your own eyes connecting to those dark eyes you missed so much.
“Mikey… is it really you?”
You felt a deep rumble in his chest, followed by the twinkling of his laugh. He threw his head back, letting his unruly hair flutter as he moved. 
“Yes baby, it’s me. Who the hell else would it be?” He smiled at you, letting his eyes half lid as he looked at you. 
“But… but you…” you began, but were quickly interrupted. 
“Come here babydoll, come try this for me.”
He moved away from you and ushered you forward with one arm, but regardless, you had no choice as the other arm that was still wrapped around your waist pulled you close into his side. Your body slotted against him, as if the missing piece to his puzzle. 
You watched as Mikey dipped a finger into the giant pot of sauce that was bubbling on the stove and you slowly began to smell the scent of roasted garlic and fresh basil, straight from the pot you had growing on the windowsill. 
He gently blew on his finger as steam rose from the sauce, he slowly brought it up to your lips, pausing just before he would touch them to look at you in the eyes again. 
“Go on baby, try it and tell me what you think.”
You gulped and parted your lips. Leaning forward, your mouth encased his finger. As your tongue hit the sauce, your eyes shot wide open.
A multitude of flavors exploded in your mouth, all so familiar. That made your knees buckle. 
With a laugh, Mikey caught you before you went down, taking his finger from your mouth and wrapping both arms around you again. He carefully lifted you up and placed you on the empty kitchen island to sit.
“Was it that good? How come you don’t react like that every other time I make it, hmm?” Teasingly, he smirked at you and turned away to wash his hands.
But all you could do was sit there, stone cold, and in shock. No matter how many times you swallowed, the taste of fresh sauce with a ton of garlic, basil, and San Marzano tomatoes would still linger on your tongue. A sauce that Mikey would make, claiming to be a recipe that only he could make perfectly, for family spaghetti night. 
His voice interrupted your thoughts, bringing you back to where you sat, “Do you think it needs anything? I wanna make sure it’s perfect before Carmy, Sugar, and Richie get here.”
You coughed and shook your head rapidly, unsure what to do but along with it, “Yea it’s, it’s perfect, my love.”
You paused, eyes wide again. A slip of the tongue. You hadn’t said “my love” for such a long time that it felt foreign coming from your mouth, despite it being a nickname you commonly used for Mikey.
But Mikey either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t seem to care when you said that. He just beamed and turned back around to stir the pot for a second. 
As you gathered yourself on that counter, you looked around again. Everything was… everything was exactly like how you left it. The pots and pans were in their usual spots, the curtains were drawn just the way you liked them, and every framed photo in the house showed you and Mikey, grinning and holding onto one another. 
You were home. 
But you knew you weren’t supposed to be here.
“Give me a second babydoll, i’ll be right back.”
Your head whipped around to look at Mikey as he stood in front of you. He smiled and reached over, kissing your temple, before walking off in the direction of the bathroom with a hand in his pocket. 
Once he disappeared, you immediately threw yourself off the kitchen island. 
Your hands immediately went to the back of your neck, holding onto it as your eyes raced over everything. 
“What the fuck am i doing here?!”
Everything around you was perfectly in place, as if untouched by time.
The world around you spun as you threw your body around, desperately trying to find something that would prove that something was wrong. But alas, everything seemed okay. 
You were too terrified to open any drawers or touch anything, so all you could do was hyperventilate and turn around over and over and over, scanning the walls to see the photographs you knew you buried under boxes and decorations you tried but failed to throw out.
Suddenly a phone began to ring. 
You froze.
There was no phone in the kitchen, nor the living room, or anywhere else in the house. But there was a phone whose ringing sounded exactly like this one’s; the phone in your parent’s house. 
It was an analog, rotary style phone that rested on a table in the hallway of your parent’s house. This hallway led the front door to the living room and had picture frames of you and your family throughout the years. Next to the table with this phone was a small, single sofa chair/
A chill went down your spine as tears began to sting your eyes.
This was the phone you found out about Mikey’s death. And that chair was the one you collapsed on before screaming.
The ringing stopped. Then, Mikey’s voice echoed from the other room, calling you. 
Hesitantly, you turned to the direction you heard his voice. 
He called your name again, but this time, he beckoned you over.
“Come here for a second baby!”
You stared at the empty doorway where you watched him leave. From that direction, his voice called your name out again. 
As your foot slowly inched forward, you held your breath. 
“I just need you real quick, come over here!”
Your footsteps were silent as you stepped forward, closer to the sound of his voice and to the doorway that led from your kitchen and dining room to the hall. 
His voice got louder and louder as you slowly rounded the doorway, continuing to call you.
Down the hall and in front of you was the bathroom door, wide open. There stood Mikey, back towards you, standing in the dimly lit hallway and dark bathroom.
Now, he was silent and still. 
With a quiet and shaky voice, you managed to whisper out, “Mikey?”
You heard a click coming from him, coming from his hand. When you looked down, you saw metal.
“I'm sorry babydoll.”
Your body jerked up with a strangled cry. You ripped the blankets from your body and threw yourself out of bed, falling straight to the floor with a loud thud. 
Your knees ached and your palms did too as you hit the floor, but you didn’t care. In that moment, all you could think about was what you saw. All you could think about was the shine of the metal.
As a loud cry escaped your shaking body, your door swung open to reveal your alarmed parents. They called your name, rushing forward to hold you as you sobbed and screamed only for their alarmed questions weren’t heard as you continued to see the glint of the metal, despite it not being there.
102 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 8 months
Text
Hey besties!!
Just wanted to drop by and let you all know that i now have a Ko-Fi ! ! There is absolutely no obligation for you to give me anything but if you are in the space to do so and want to show this poor college student who likes writing a little bit of appreciation, you can do so through my Ko-Fi ! ! I will forever appreciate you if you do so and if you can't, i appreciate you taking the time to read this regardless <3
1 note · View note
freshbakedbreadstick · 8 months
Text
No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Five
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: The past seems to repeat itself and this awful memory seems to provide some much needed context to your actions.
Warnings:  All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, funerals, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, addiction, interventions. This is literally just pure angst again im so sorry (not really (: ).
Word Count: 5k (sorry, she is a long one!)
A/N: I wrote this while procrastinating packing to move into my dorm LOLLL i move in a few days but im too anxious to even start packing <3 anyways this one is another heavy one and a long one too, so fun ! I hope you all enjoy because she was surprisngly difficult to write and edit bc my imposter syndrome and chronic perfectionism is out to get me ! ! Have a slay n gay day ily all ! 
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
It was a cold and cloudy day in March, fitting for a funeral. There was snow on each corner of the sidewalk, partially melted, but the cold air that made your lips burn when you stepped outside threatened more snowfall to come.
Today marked two weeks since you got the phone call that changed your entire life.
It was only two weeks after Mikey was found dead on the State Street Bridge and they already got him ready to be put into the ground. 
You stared out the window, silent, and watched the life that occurred outside. A man helped his son get out of their car, both in matching hats and scarves, a teen with a backpack passed by with their friends, laughing and jumping, a tree swayed, leaves still gone. 
“Hey, sweetheart, are you ready?”
You didn’t respond.
Your father placed his hand onto your shoulder, “Are you ready?”  
You sighed, letting your breath fog up the cold window pane in front of you. 
Most days, you sat on the only wooden dining chair that was saved from your and Mikey's apartment and looked outside the window. You noticed things you normally took for granted, like the view of snowfall during sunset and the way the trees swayed when a gust of wind blew. 
Finally, you stood up, feeling your dad's hand slip off your shoulder. You didn't bother to smooth out your black dress, letting the wrinkles set in the fabric. Meanwhile, the stockings you wore under pinched you as you moved, but you didn’t care enough to adjust them either. 
"Yea…” you responded at last, voice thick and scratchy.
Your parents mumbled quietly to each other as they locked the door, stealing not so subtle glances over to you as you stood in the middle of the path down the front door, looking at the now empty street. 
Everyone around you just seemed to keep on asking you the same question: "Are you ready to…" but you didn't know. You didn't know if you were ready to face death. But you did know that you felt no panic, sadness, guilt, fear, anger, happiness, or… anything really. 
‘I guess it’s better to feel nothing than something,’ you thought to yourself.
“Let’s get in the car now, okay?” 
You looked over to your mom, who approached you and gently grabbed your forearm, starting to lead you to your parents’ car. But you dug your heels into the ground making your mom jump as she suddenly jerked back. 
“I want… I want to drive myself.”
Your mother looked at you, eyes pleading. She then glanced at your dad, who softened and sighed. 
“Sweetie, i don’t think that is a good idea-”
“Please… i just… I need some time alone before I go in…”
Your parents shared a glance before your mom slowly loosened her grip on your arm. You slowly began to walk away from her, pulling your arm out of her grip. 
“We’ll follow you,” your dad said, voice steady but still anxious. 
You nodded and headed towards your car. The thought of being alone terrified you in general since the news of Mikey broke, but having a small moment alone in the car sounded heavenly after not being left physically alone, at all, for the past two weeks. You didn’t sleep alone, eat alone, or even shower alone; someone was always there either right next to you or right outside the door. While it was nice to have people around you during this time, you started feeling suffocated and pitied rather than supported. 
The drive was silent. You didn’t bother to turn on the radio or take off your thick coat or even play any of the cds Mikey had burned for you as teenagers like you normally did. Nothing was normal anymore anyways, so why bother?
But regardless, the silence was, in some way, comforting. It granted you the smallest bit of breathing space you knew you needed before you would face death itself.
After parking outside the funeral home, you sat in your seat. The car was off and it was silent as you sat there, not feeling particularly anything, just sort of numb. And for the first time in a while, you felt like you would be okay. It didn’t hurt anymore, just felt numb, and that seemed like progress to you. 
A knock outside your window made you jump and turn around. You expected to see your mom or your dad waiting for you, but was surprised to see Richie instead.
You cleared your throat and rolled your shoulder back, holding your head up high like you normally did, before you got out.
As you started to step out, you smiled at him, “Well don’t you look fine as a peach.”
Richie smiled softly for a brief second before it fell back down into a frown that made the wrinkles around his mouth deepen. He looked unwell, with heavy bags and a gaunt face, making him appear sick. 
While you analyzed him, he did the same for you. He scanned your face and body, seeing the way you continued to be the person he knew you as, even during a time in which nothing made sense anymore for anyone. Your shoulders were square and your head was high, making you look less like a grieving girlfriend and more like a CEO. This made him shiver. 
But regardless, he held his hand out for you to take, helping you up and out of your car. As you locked your car, he began to talk.
“Drove here alone?” he said, voice gravelly. 
“Yea… I needed to be alone.”
He nodded silently. He then took your hand, still in his own, and wrapped it around his arm. He led you to the sidewalk, toward the funeral home, steps slow and purposeful. 
“Everyone is here but you… you don’t have to talk to anyone, okay? If anyone bothers you, come to me.”
You chuckled dryly, “Thanks, but don't worry about me. I know this is hard for you too.”
Before he could retaliate to your words, you cleared your throat and walked a little faster. 
You watched as your parents, who were up ahead of you, greeted Natalie and Pete. You saw the way they moved inside after speaking to her, as if stuck in mud, around the sister of the man you loved. 
They both briefly turned back to look at you, eyes watering and drooping, before anxiously disappearing into the awaiting crowd of family members.
You paused, making Richie also pause beside you, turning to look at you. He saw the way your eyes scanned up the bricks of the building and then back down to the wilted ferns in pots next to the front doors. Your eyes, for a brief second, filled with tears, making him open his mouth before shutting it upon seeing you blink them away. 
You cleared your throat and began to move again, seemingly fine, until your heels began dragging on the pavement. So Richie silently moved his arm up to support you and looked away, staring off to the side. He didn't want you to see the way his eyes had started to tear up as he saw through your facade.
Natalie had focused her gaze on you just after your parents left, face in a permanent concerned frown that made her look more like a mother than anything else, before nodding softly to you, “Hi sweetie… are you ready?”
Were you ready?
“I just…” you began, mouth drying up the second you began to talk.
Natalie nodded at you anxiously, reaching over to take your hand in her own. The calluses she had from years of cleaning up after everyone rubbed soothingly into your own hand.
You shrugged, “...I just feel numb.”
Beside her, Pete winced. Natalie shot him a small glare before softening up as she turned back to you, “It’s okay, you're free to stay out here if you need some space, okay? Whatever it is that you need, let us know and we can help…”
Wordlessly, you rubbed your thumb into her hand and turned to look inside the hallway. A couple family members had already spotted you, their once staring gazes averting themselves from your frame as they noticed you caught them watching. Hushed voices that whispered to one another died down to either silence or near silent whispers as they stole glances at you and Richie walking inside.
You turned and gave Natalie a small smile, "Don't worry about me, are you doing ok-"
"Oh, there you are!!!!" A voice interrupted you, exclaiming loudly. 
You reeled around to the noise and made eye contact with Donna, who was pushing through the crowd and rushing forward to you. Fast.
Your eyes widened. 
Too fast. 
Her body was a blur as she approached you. 
Like a bullet.
In an instant, that moment of breathing space you had in the car disappeared and all that numbness flew out the window, being replaced by intense panic. 
The room started to spin, making your eyes widen as she stood in front of you, speaking what seemed to be gibberish. 
"Shit," Richie mumbled, but his voice was invisible to you. 
All you saw was Donna, hair wild and clothes wrinkled. Her hands moved wildly as she talked, voice so loud in your ears that it felt like your eardrums would pop.
"Mom!" Natalie yelped beside you, finally taking you out of the trance you were in by pushing her body in between you and Donna. 
Donna gasped, speaking hushed but angrily at Natalie, "Natalie, what are you doing? Don't you see I'm trying to talk to her- What do you mean I'm overwhelming her?! She's fine, if she had a problem, she would tell me, isn't that right?"
You saw her peek over Natalie's shoulder, eyes searing a hole into your face, "Right?" 
Your throat tightened. 
"Donna, how about we go ahead and sit so the services can start, okay?" Your mother had rushed over and behind Donna, putting her hands on the erratic woman’s shoulders before steering her away from you. 
Your mom cast you a concerned glance as she redirected Donna away from you, letting her blabber on and on to her about the decor being different and the beautiful flowers they got set up for the service. 
But all you did was stare back, breaths staggered and eyes focusing back only to see all eyes on you. 
Natalie let out a shuddered wheeze, taking the initiative to redirect everyone watching into the room where the services would be taking place. Slowly, their eyes turned away. 
"You ok?" Richie's voice seemed to finally register in your brain. 
You whipped your head to him, "Uhm yea… are you?"
In front of him, he saw the way you rearranged your body language back to its "normal state". Your shoulders rolled back again and your head was held high. But this time, your face was blank and did nothing to show emotion. 
Richie nods, "Let’s just, uh, wait until everyone goes in, ok?"  
You took a shallow breath and blinked your eyes, adjusting to the dim, warm lighting of the building. The entire place felt warm from the artificial fireplace on the left wall, facade made of rich brown oak. The furniture matched in wood, feeling dated but comforting, like a grandmother's house. It made the panic in your body slowly melt away, being replaced by the numb feeling again.
You looked at the yellowish-orange patterned wallpaper and brown wood trimming on the walls and snickered to yourself, catching Richie's attention.
"This place looks like a small, hole in the wall restaurant that's maintained by a family. Mikey loves this kind of family style decor…" 
Richie squeezed his eyes shut, "Yea… he does." 
You watched as everyone filed into the next room, recognizing familiar faces like Fak, cousin Michelle, and Uncle Jimmy. You continued to scan the crowd, not seeing the way Natalie nodded towards Richie, signaling him to take you inside with everyone. 
You let yourself be guided behind the crowd, watching everyone who knew Mikey sit down in the chairs that were set up. Donna was sitting in the front next to your parents, still talking. Beside her were empty seats. There was one, two, three, four, and five; one for you, Richie, Natalie, Pete, and Carmy.
Carmy.
You paused.
"Where's Carmy?" 
Richie stopped moving and grimaced. 
Next to you, Natalie linked your free arm into her own, "He uh… he might come by later." 
"Did he ever respond to any of you? I sent him a photo of the service paper but he never responded to me." 
"Uh…" Richie was seemingly at a loss for words. 
Natalie sighed and looked at Richie before responding, "He didn't to me either. Didn't pick up any of my calls."
The panic started up again, slowly swirling deep in your belly, making you suddenly start to speak at the speed of light, "What? Why? Who wouldn't come to their brother's funeral?"
Natalie gulped, voice shaking as she tried redirecting you, "Hey sweetie, how about we go inside and then wait and see if he comes-" 
"I mean, everyone tried to get in contact with him so it's not like none of us didn't try." 
"Yea, your right, but maybe he is running late and was busy-" 
"If he was running late he would've let us know, i know he would." 
The panic made your breathing pick up, making you lightheaded as you took in gulps of stuffy, warm air. It was perfumed like flowers and mothballs, making you cough lightly. 
Michelle, who was seated towards the entrance of the room, turned to you, as did a couple others, as your voice started to increase in volume. It was unbeknownst to you that you began to speak louder and louder, loud enough that people around you could overhear. 
Richie said your name, stern but still worried, "Hey, take a breath and lower your volume."
"What do you mean? I'm fine?" 
Natalie just shook her head, "This was a mistake, we shouldn't have forced her to come."
You jerked your head to her, "Natalie, it’s fine. Besides, I wanted to come." 
Her shoulders sagged, "If this is too much for you, you are free to go-" 
"Please, I'm fine!" You responded, speech getting faster and faster, "You don't have to worry about me like you're my mom." 
"I know I know, but I worry about you regardless, you're my best friend!" 
"Natalie, I'm okay I swear-" 
Richie whisper-yelled at you two, "Let's take this back out, neither of you are okay right now."
"Richie I swear I'm fine, I just want to see my dead boyfriend in his casket!" You whisper-yelled back as you stomped a foot down.
At this point, others had begun turning to look at you. Natalie flushed, noticing the stares while Richie groaned softly, taking your arm and dragging you away from the entrance and to the front door. 
"Your obviously not okay, just stand here and take some fucking breaths." Richie whispered, voice stern. 
You blinked, letting yourself get pulled like a ragdoll. You stumbled as you leaned into the doorway, feeling shame set in your body. 
That was a new feeling. 
"I'm… i'm…" you began, blinking wildly as your face flushed and your chest tightened. 
"Listen, I know this is hard but don't force yourself to do this for any one of us, okay? You can sit out here and none of us will blame you or be upset. We all have our own ways of grieving and if staying away is yours, then do it. You don't need our acceptance in order to grieve in your own way." 
The tangent Richie went on felt so out of character for him that it made you go silent as you watched him enunciate every word. Natalie trailed behind him, holding onto her body with wide eyes as she too listened to his speech, both moved and confused.
With a choked breath, you responded, "Okay, I'm sorry."
Richie's tensed shoulders and furrowed brows softened. He saw the way you looked down and away from him, body drooping. For a split second, he saw through the demeanor you had been putting on since you got out of the car and saw who you really were: the grieving love of Mikey's life, terrified of what life was going to be like moving forward without him. 
Natalie reached over and rubbed your arm, before turning to Richie, "It's starting, you can go in if you would like…" 
Richie nodded grimly, looking at the floor for a brief second before reaching forward, taking your cheeks into his hand and giving your hairline a small peck. 
"You're not alone with this… we are here." 
You looked at him, a cross of confusion and relief written all over your face, making him hold back a laugh when he noticed it. Upon hearing his laugh mixed with a cough, you chuckled softly to yourself. Natalie was the only one not laughing, but still had a small smile on her face as she watched you two. 
“God this is so weird, are you a wise old man now or something?” You joked, gently pushing Richie’s shoulder.
Richie snorted and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, “Ah it’s nothing, just something i learned… don’t think it’s gonna be this way all the time!”
The three of you smiled at one another, right up until Fak interrupted the sweet moment. 
“Hey guys… uh, the service is starting…”
Richie rocked his jaw, the smile he had disappearing from his face. He turned to Fak, annoyed already by him interrupting, “Listen man-”
Natalie loudly cleared her throat, narrowing her eyes at Richie for a second as a warning, making him trip up on his words. 
Richie coughed again and looked away, mumbling to himself about how annoying Fak was. Natalie just rolled her eyes and turned to Fak, smiling sweetly at him.
“Thank you, we’ll join you in a sec.” 
You watched them all interact with one another, some of the closest people in Mikey’s life that ended up becoming some of the closest people in your own life, but in this moment they felt so far away, emotionally and physically. The random moment of peace between you, Natalie, and Richie was fleeting and reality brought you back down to the present moment, reminding you where you were and why you were here. 
Just seconds ago it felt like a regular everyday moment where the three of you talked, waiting for Mikey to turn around the corner or come in from another room and join you, smirking like he always did. He would wrap his muscular arm around you, pulling you into his side and start to joke around with Richie. He would tap Natalie on her shoulder, acknowledging her, and bring Fak over with a laugh, joining all of you together with ease. Any annoyance and discomfort would just disappear around Mikey; he just knew what to say and what to do to bring everyone, even those with differences, together. 
But that would never happen again. 
Mikey was dead and that would never happen again. 
He would never hold you, pressing his body warmth against you, he would never kiss you, gently guiding your face with his large hand, and he would never love you, ever again. 
Your body seemed to finally catch up with the cocktail of emotions you have been feeling for the past weeks and settled on one to focus on: panic. 
It crawled up your throat, squeezing it in a way that made you feel as if any second now, you would be on the floor, clawing at the rug as you struggled to breathe. But you knew that as long as you didn’t let it overwhelm you, convince it that everything was ok, you would be fine. 
So you were going to do anything you needed to do to not let it overwhelm you again.
“Uh, you two head in, okay? I need a second alone.” you said, making them turn to you. 
With a clearing of your throat, you perked up, smiling, as if nothing that had just occurred even happened. Natalie looked at you, taken somewhat aback and concerned, but didn’t push further. Richie was the same, confused but didn’t want to say or do anything that would make you break down. 
“You sure you don’t want any of us here, we are more than happy to-” Natalie began, but you interrupted her by gently moving a strand of hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear.
“I’m okay, I'll join you in a second. Thank you both for being here with me.” you then brought them both into a gentle embrace, speaking clearly. 
Natalie and Richie exchanged a worried glance behind your back, both struggling to put on a smile to face you when they pulled back. 
Richie began to move to the room where the service had started, “Let us know if you need anything. Text us or call us or just say our name and we will be there.” 
You nodded and shooed them playfully off, leaving yourself standing against the doorway. The doors of the room where service had started closed behind them with a dull thud, leaving you truly alone in the entryway of the funeral home.
Your shoulders and smile dropped, eyes glazing over as you did so. With your heart continuing to race in your chest, you had no choice but to start pacing back and forth. The panic was starting to become too much to control so you tried your hardest to count your breathing, desperate to get it back into control. 
“Fuck…” you whimpered to yourself, feeling tears start to well in your eyes. 
You furrowed your brows and bit your lip, hard. You didn’t want anyone to see you cry, you didn’t want to be pitied. 
Suddenly, the doors opened wide, making you gasp and jump back, cold hands reaching to wipe any tears before you turned to see who was exiting. 
Donna came stumbling out, shushing someone inside, before closing the doors behind her. She sniffed loudly, pushing away her hair from her face right as she locked eyes with you. 
She frowned, continuing to stare at you as she walked forward to where you stood with red rimmed eyes and untouched makeup. She then moved to rifle through her purse, digging for something. 
You watched her silently, feeling your bottom lip quiver as she swayed back and forth.
You continued to watch as she pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, placing the cigarette between her red painted lips and lighting it aflame. With a deep drag and smoke sigh, she finally turned away from you.
She looked outside, staring at the gray clouds and half melted snow. It was getting colder and colder as the evening progressed, making her breaths of smoke even smokier as she breathed out. 
You turned, deciding that it was better to go inside than stand awkwardly around the mother of your boyfriend, whom you didn’t have the greatest relationship with. But right as you took a step, Donna called your name.
You glanced back at her, seeing her stumbling away from you but holding an unlit cigarette out. You were frozen to the spot, unsure whether or not to grab it and join her or go inside. But she seemed to answer that for you when she spoke up.
“Come on, I know you smoke. I’ve seen you and Carmy sneak out to smoke together sometimes during family dinners.”
You winced, feeling your cheeks heat up at having your behavior noticed by the one person you didn’t want to know, but moved forward to accept it regardless. 
As you placed the cigarette on your lips, she reached forward and lit it for you. The deep drag you took filled your lungs, making the chilly air from outside feel much more bearable. 
The two of you just stood there, side by side and silent, together, smoking. 
You burned about halfway through your cigarette before Donna spoke up, making your heart stop at her words. 
“You know… my son died, so I don't know why you are acting like you're the only one who is hurting.”
She threw the stub of her cigarette on the ground and stomped it with her shiny patent leather heel. With arms crossed, she looked at you and, with a low voice, she continued, “Everyone is just flocking to you and when no one gives you attention, you just make a scene and get them all back to you.”
Your entire body went cold.
“My poor Natalie is dealing with the death of her brother and all you do is make her wait hand and foot for you.”
Upon hearing this, all the fear in your body melted away and was replaced with burning hot anger. You knew her words were bullshit, but hearing her talk about Natalie like that, knowing how she treats her, made you clench your jaw.
In a surge of bravery, you retaliated, “Donna, how can you say that?”
She scoffed, “Please, stop acting like you are an angel who has done nothing wrong. You don’t have Mikey or anyone else here to protect you.”
Your mouth drops silently open letting the cig fall from your lips and to the ground, snuffing itself. You scanned her face with your fists balling against your side, seeing nothing but a smug look on her face as she ridiculed you.
With a sharp breath, you began, “You have never treated Natalie like a daughter. You're the one who made her the maid of your family. She practically raised Carmy and does everything for everyone. You made her act like an adult ever since she was a kid and, like everyone else, I had kept quiet about it for so many years just so we wouldn’t upset you. But I'm tired of it, this is the last straw.”
Donna rolled her eyes, “Oh puh-lease-”
But you interrupted her and continued, “So don’t act like you are suddenly concerned with how she is being treated, you never cared when you yelled at her over every little thing, so don’t start now.”
Donna looked at you, dropping her arms and glaring, “I bust my ass constantly for my children, I don't need someone like YOU pretending like you know everything-.”
“Donna, I've been around you since I was in elementary school. I grew up with your kids and around you. I know EXACTLY how you are.”
She clenched her jaw, eyes narrowing. 
But you didn’t stand down, not anymore, “None of your children are saints, but they try so fucking hard to be the best they can be given they had you as a mother. But it’s not like you would ever see that, huh?”
“All Mikey ever did was stress out, because of you! He tried to self medicate with pills and drugs and got addicted, because of you!” Donna suddenly screeched, quickly trying to divert the blame onto you.
You laughed out loud, “I’ve seen him do a couple things once or twice but Mikey was not an addict!”
Donna cackled, shaking her head furiously, “He was!! Ask Richie! Ask anyone! He was an addict, all because of you!!!”
You stepped back, eyebrows furrowing, taken aback at her words. Sure, Mikey was a bit erratic and loud, but that was his personality. He was just that type of person. And yes, he had tried a couple things before and even told you about his experience with them, but he never once did them around you or even mentioned doing them multiple times. He had vices, like smoking and having some drinks, but he wasn’t an addict.
Before you can further question, the doors were pushed open and Richie came rushing out, “What is going on?!”
You opened your mouth to respond but stopped when you heard Donna sob.
You flipped your head around to look at her but were greeted by a sight that made all that panic come barreling toward you again, replacing the anger. Donna was curled into herself, clutching onto her arms, with fat tears rolling down her face. Her sobs shook her body so violently that Richie rushed over and wrapped his arms around her to steady her. 
"What happened!?" Richie repeated, voice softer this time but just as worried as before. 
He looked at you with wide eyes as Donna sobbed, barely speaking through her gasps, "I tried to be the best mother for my children. I don't need you blaming me for my mistakes on the day of my son's funeral." 
As you watched her speak, your veins filled with ice. Only one phrase repeated in your head over and over as Richie looked between the two of you with wide eyes, ‘You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave. You fucked up, you need to leave.You fucked up, you need to leave…’
Richie called your name, making you look at him, "What happened?" 
Nothing came from your mouth but a strangled wheeze. You were frozen to the spot, pinned there by Donna's crying and Richie's stare. 
You fucked up, you needed to leave. 
Behind you, the door swung open again and your parents came rushing out with Natalie in tow. A couple peering eyes tried to look out from their seats inside, but the door closed on them before they could put together what was happening. 
"Mom!?" Natalie gasped out, rushing forward to Donna. 
Richie repeated what he said before, but you didn't hear his words. The only thing you could focus on was the way his eyes looked while staring at you, like you were a stranger. 
Donna continued to speak, saying something that was drowned out from your ears, replaced by silence and the deep throb of your heart beat. 
Right before your Mom could reach out to grab your arm, you spoke, "I need to leave, I need some time." 
You pulled the car keys from your jacket pocket and ran. 
99 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 9 months
Text
Suffering from success 😞 (I have intense imposter syndrome that makes me hate everything I make) anyways new chapter coming out today (thursday) !!! Currently editing it ! I apologize in advance tho, it's pure angst again 🫠 I swear we will get happy parts later on but this requires a slow burn to not feel rushed 😭
2 notes · View notes
freshbakedbreadstick · 9 months
Note
when you're done with your current fic can we maybe see your take one the beloved Terzo Emeritus 👉👈
woah wait you can change the font of an ask did you know that???
Oh baby you have absolutely no idea how many evil little thoughts I have swirling in my head about him ! ! !
I absolutely will write them down and post as soon as I can ! ! I will dedicate one in your honor, sweet anon <3
(Also I had no idea you could still change thr font, I hardly ever mess with those options LMAO )
1 note · View note
freshbakedbreadstick · 9 months
Text
No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Four
Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader
Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader
Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader
Summary: Old habits (of fleeing) die hard unless, of course, you're forced to face things rather than running from them.
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, Al-Anon, addiction, interventions.
Word Count: 3.5k
A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! ! As promised, here’s the next chapter for you all, earlier than planned as a sorry for taking so long ! Life is getting hectic and I'm currently preparing to move into my dorm for this coming school year, hence why I couldn't update with the last chapter earlier . I transferred to a different university than the one I was originally going to so a lot of things are new to me again, but I'm still excited ! ! ! Anyways, get your happy puppy and kitty pictures to look at after this chapter and i hope you all have a wonderful day and wonderful read <3
EDIT: Changed the name used for an added side character to avoid confusion with the name of a character from the show, sorry to those who are named Amanda as that's the name i used as a replacement (:
Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic
Chapter Three / Masterlist / Chapter Five
Tumblr media
Your fingers shook around the steering wheel as you pressed on the accelerator harder, making the engine of your old car rumble louder in your ears. It wasn’t loud enough to drown the loud and rapid heartbeat in your ears though.
Luckily for you, it was green light after green light.
You raced home, expecting to come home to a silent house with nobody there to try and talk you out of your decision. After all, it was a weekday and it was past noon, almost everyone in Chicago was either working or in school.
“Pack then leave, pack then leave, pack then leave…” you mumbled to yourself, eyes darting back and forth as you switched lanes to weave in and out of traffic. You were met with angry yells and annoyed honks as you did so, but it didn’t matter to you. You needed to get home. 
Your stuff was shoved in the back seat, half spilled from both you throwing it inside and your reckless driving. After you had the argument with everyone at The Beef, you stormed inside to silently grab your things from your locker and go. Neither Richie, Carmy, nor Sugar said a word to you as you did so, but Tina was the first to call out your name and try to calm you down. She had definitely heard everything that went down outside, those walls were absolutely not sound proof. 
“What the fuck does Carmy know anyways. He’s the one who refused to come back or even reach out at all when Mikey…  fucking hypocrite,” You mumbled to yourself, eyes narrowing and your hand gripping the steering wheel until your fingers hurt. 
Tina, however, anxiously worked at her station, half glancing over to you and half working on her task in the kitchen. You knew that she was split between wanting to reach out to you and wanting to keep going with her work, but you would never make her or anyone else choose, so you chose for her by ignoring her and leaving. 
She and everyone else are better off without you anyways.  
The tires of your car screeched as you swerved into the empty driveway.
“Fuck yes…” you whispered to yourself, skin sweaty as you shoved yourself out of your car. No cars in the driveway means an empty house. You were in the clear. 
As you approached the front door, house keys already in hand, you mumbled out plans to yourself, “Maybe Florida? It’s probably rainy and humid this time of year but if it means getting away from here, I can deal with it…”
The front door swung open before you could finish unlocking it, making you jump and gasp out as you came face to face with your mom.
“Sweetie? Are you okay? What’s going on? Why do you look ill?” You mom rushed out, eyes wide and confused.
“I'm fine Mom but I have to go.” You rushed out, pushing past her to run to the stairs. Your mom let out an unintelligible string of words as you started running to your room, heart pounding as it seemed like your once “foolproof” plan was starting to unravel. 
“Fucking fuck fuck fuck shit!” You mumbled to yourself, spitting out the words harshly as you barged into your room and began pushing things into the boxes and bags you hadn’t yet unpacked.
In your rush to pack, you didn’t hear your mom’s footsteps getting closer nor did you hear what she was saying. 
"Honey, how about you slow down for a second and take a deep breath?" She said, sounding exasperated as she pushed herself over the threshold and into your room.
"Not now mom," You replied, hissing for a brief second as you cut your finger on a sharp edge of a box before continuing to pack. 
"Seriously, I think you should stop for a second and then we can do whatever it is that you want to do, okay?" 
This made you pause. 
"...what?" You blinked, slowly turning to your Mom. 
She smiled at you, but the corners of her eyes didn't crinkle as she did so. You scanned her body, noticing the way her body language indicated that she was fully open and not at all anxious. 
You opened your mouth briefly, before shutting it and complying with her ask. You breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7 seconds, and let it go for 8 seconds. In front of you, your Mom beamed at you, but again you noticed how her eyes never once left yours and how they didn't crinkle at the corners like they usually did. 
"Let me help you pack, okay?" She said, voice calm. 
You watched as she moved forward and grabbed a box already full of your stuff before grabbing a smaller box. You continued to watch and followed her as she went down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door to your car. 
As she placed the box in the car, you turned and bolted. Your feet thumped loudly as you went back up the stairs and you felt your shirt cling onto your sweaty skin. Something was up, you just knew it, and you needed to find out what it was before it was too late. 
But in this moment, the memory of your conversation at The Beef earlier replayed in your head for the 6th time that hour, and your panic settled in once again. 
With two boxes in hand, you started to leave your room to go to the front door, passing your mom who didn't so much as glance at you. Your eyes followed her frame, noting no change in her calm demeanor. 
It frightened you immensely. 
The pit in your stomach gnawed at you as you placed the boxes in the trunk, making you feel like you were going to throw up and pass out at the same time. When you left Mikey's funeral in a rush, your parents followed you. You had insisted on going in separate cars, convincing them that being alone in your car would help you prepare yourself before you went into the funeral home. But they still followed you in their own car, practically tailgating you as you ran through red lights to get home. 
You let out a shaky breath, remembering the way your mother sobbed and tried convincing you not to leave as you packed your car with the few things you were willing to take. Your father tried reasoning with you, eyes filled with tears and voice shaky but stern as he pleaded you to think your decision through. They tried everything, from promising you a vacation to get your mind off everything to threatening you with involuntary inpatient services. But nothing worked, so all they could do was run down the block, following your car as you took off, determined to seek refuge out West. 
Your mom walked around you, placing more boxes in the car with a loud clunk, taking you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped around to see her organizing your boxes.
"There's a couple more things up in your room but I wasn't sure if you wanted to take them." She said, a small smile appearing on her face as she looked over her shoulder at you.
Your eyebrows creased and your chest heaved, feeling disturbed by her overall calm attitude to this situation. She was not at all acting like the way she did the first time, which felt odd considering that you were planning on doing the same exact thing as you did before. You would even dare say that you felt like she was happy you were leaving. 
"Uhm… okay," and with that you took a couple careful steps back to watch her before turning to go back inside. 
'What the fuck is going on?!' You thought to yourself, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to chew on it as you went up the stairs. 
Sure enough, there were some things left in your room aside from the boxes labeled 'The Beef' that you were certainly not going to take. But before you could decide, the sinking feeling hit you. 
Why was your mom home? She should've been at work at this time. While she did take time off to spend with you when you first came home, she had already returned to work a couple days ago. Why did she not continue to question why you were home? You did leave a message explaining where you were before you left so she knew that and she also knew that you planned to stay at The Beef the whole day, so she would probably be confused as to why you came home early and in a rush. Additionally, she seemed okay with your decision to leave which was nothing like her previous attitude. And why the hell was she so calm?!
Then, it clicked. 
Your throat dried up. 
Someone must have told her and now she is planning something. 
You raced down the stairs, hands clammy as you gripped onto the stair railing to launch yourself forward. The only person you knew that would have her number and would be willing to reach out to her about something like this was Sugar. Your legs buckled as you rushed out front, only to see your Mom calmly waiting for you. 
"Oh honey, don't forget your wallet and charger-" She said, perking up when she saw you. 
"What are you planning?" You blurted out, interrupting her. 
Your mom furrowed her brows and tilted her head, "What do you mean?" 
"Why are you letting me go? You're not screaming or yelling and just letting me do this?"
You mom blinked at you, unmoving. It was eerie to see her not react to what you were saying.
After some silence, your mom spoke up, "You're an adult and I respect every decision you will make, regardless if I agree with it or not." 
Your eyes narrowed. Although this didn't seem very far off when it came to the parenting philosophy they raised you with, something about this still made you feel alarmed. 
"How about we stop for ice cream at that creamery we love before you go?" 
There's the catch. 
You visibly tensed your body, "Okay…" 
Something was going to happen to you once you got there, you just knew it, but you were going to make a plan and get the hell out of there. 
With a smile, your mom walked to the passenger's seat of the car, "Go lock up for me, okay? I have my purse in the car already." 
You nodded slowly, jaw locked as you took small steps to the front door. When you finally sat down in the driver's seat, your mom was humming to herself and messing with her hair in the mirror. 
"You're planning something," you announced again, half mumbling. 
Your mom briefly stopped humming to chuckle and shake her head before continuing, seemingly unphased by the way you accused her. But this nagging feeling would not go away, so you did all you could do in that moment: drive. 
You sat on the bench outside of the small old creamery, leg bouncing rapidly. You've been going there with your parents since you were a kid, something that you also included Mikey, Carmy, Richie, and Natalie in when they could join you. You would sometimes sneak away after school together or go after football games, right before it would close at midnight. And here you were, one last time, before you would go to… Florida. 
The sweet cream of the ice cream cone you had in your hand made you hum as you licked it, the flavor exploding over your tongue. It was delectable, after all you got your favorite flavor.
You were going to miss it. 
You mom walked over to the table you sat on, holding her own cup of butterscotch ice cream, before sitting down to join you. The sun was warm and the sky was a bright blue. The overall happy atmosphere of the day didn't seem to quell whatsoever. 
You eyed her carefully for a second but only saw her indulging in her own ice cream. So you looked away and started to plan your trip to… Florida. 
You decided that first, you would drop your mom off at home and tell her what you wanted to say to dad. Then, you would drive to the nearest gas station and fuel up on both gasoline and snacks, maybe get a slurpee from 7/11, and start driving towards St. Louis. You could sleep in your car for the night at a Walmart and then drive to Atlanta the next day. After that, just head straight to Florida, home free!
Your mom cleared your throat to get your attention, making you whip your head around to face her. 
"Oh sweetie, do you mind if I go next door? We got a new tax guy and his office is just next door. I need to drop off some papers so that he can finish prepping our file." As if like magic, your mom pulled out some stapled papers from her purse. 
"When did we get a new tax guy?" 
"Last month, your father wanted to change from using H&R Block because of all the problems we had with them last year so we found this new guy."
You glanced at her, finding her eating her ice cream and looking at you; not a concern or worry was written on her face. Her story did seem to add up, your parents did complain about their tax people so this didn’t seem suspicious. So you, cautiously, nodded. 
She got up and began to walk down the sidewalk, "You can join me if you would like." 
You pursed your lips and took the risk, "Uh… sure." 
The request seemed simple and innocent enough, making your anxiety ease for a second. She might have not gone to work because she had errands to do and the paperwork she held under her arm seemed legit. And as you walked into the building and headed towards the office at the end of the hall, everything actually seemed okay. Maybe she did respect your decision and just wanted to spend some time with you before you left. 
"Give me a second," Your mom said, pausing. 
You crashed into her back, heart racing again as she stopped. But all she did was hand you the papers and turn to walk over to the trash can. 
"Give me your trash," she said, reaching out for you to give her your dirty napkins. 
Complying, you watched her throw the trash away before walking back to you, nodding for you to walk through the door in front of you. 
Inside was a large, empty office. It was bright with the grayish white walls and unfinished concrete floors projecting the light from the large windows everywhere. It made you squint as you moved blindly forward. 
The door behind you clicked at the same time that you blinked, eyes adjusting. There was a small circle of chairs in front of you, some occupied by a few people while others were empty. A couple people were hanging out by what looked to be a snack table and another person was standing by someone, chatting. But when you came in, they all paused to turn to you. 
This was what she was planning. 
Someone in a cardigan and with a gentle smile began approaching you and beside you your mom began to speak, "Sweetie, this is for the best…" 
But her voice faded from your mind as your heavy breaths and fast heartbeat overwhelmed you. You whipped around, stumbling from the speed in which you did so, and crashed into the chest of a tall person who was blocking the door. 
You heaved a breath. 
Behind you, the person in the cardigan spoke, "Hi, I understand this might be confusing and overwhelming but your mom brought you here because she cares about you and your well being. My name is Amanda and I'm more than happy to answer all your questions." 
"What the fuck is this? Is this an intervention? What am I doing here? Why am I here? Mom, why did you take me here?" You rushed out, feeling the room spin and your body get cold as you quickly glanced around the room. 
In an instant, the calm neutral face your mom had fell into one of concern, with her eyes glossy  and eyebrows pressed together, "This is an Al-Anon meeting sweetheart and it's for the best, okay? Just one meeting and then we can go home, alright?" 
Your legs gave out on you. As you collapsed onto the floor, your vision blurred but you could make out the way your mom screamed and rushed forward to grab you. Amanda looked concerned but concentrated, as if she knew exactly what to do, when she got down onto her knees to help you. You could also feel some heavy hands grab onto your shoulders behind you as your vision faded to black.
When you regained consciousness, you felt the wind gently caress your cheeks as it blew by. It felt nice, not feeling sweaty and flushed. But as you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself leaning on your mom, half laid on a bench, outside a building you had no idea about. 
“Hey honey, are you feeling ok?” Your mom said, instantly hugging you against her body as she noticed you beginning to stir. 
“Yea… yea… I'm fine,” you said, your words coming out slurred as you brought yourself up to sit. 
“How are you feeling?” A voice said, behind you and your mom. 
Everything came rushing back as you recognized this voice as Amanda’s voice. 
You stumbled up, making your mom gasp and jump up from her seat. Amanda placed a hand on your mom’s forearm, gently smiling at her. 
“What do you want from me?!” you yelled, feeling anger seep into your skin as soon as you got up and faced her. 
Amanda looked at you, “We are not here to hurt you, take you away, or anything. Your mom brought you here to give you a safe space to talk about Mikey.”
“I don’t need to talk about SHIT!” You heaved, making your mom look away from her, desperately trying to conceal her own anger. 
“We care about you and we believe that you should try this out, just once. You are free to leave if you don’t want to, okay?” Amanda continued, voice soft. 
It made your blood boil. 
With fists clenched, you glared at your mom, “You did all of this, just to trick me into coming here?”
Your mom continued to look away, refusing to look at you. You seethed. 
“You can’t even look at me or respond to me?” 
Amanda shook her head, “I understand your feeling upset and confused right now, considering how your mom brought you here, but your mom only has the best intentions for you in mind. Please, come inside. You don’t have to share anything with the group or even sit with the group. You can stand in the back with your mom and share whenever you would like.”
With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms. 
Softly, your mom said your name, “I never expected myself to be a perfect mom, but was willing to die trying just for you. Both your father and I made a pact to do everything we could in order to make sure you had the best life you could live. As you got older and became your own person, it was hard to watch you make mistakes but we knew when to step in and guide you, and when to step back,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing, “And watching you be with Mikey, to be happy, was a joy in the beginning… until we saw the cracks forming in your relationship. We did everything we could to help you but nothing worked. I understand you loved him… but sweetie… his addiction hurt you too.”
“Mikey never hurt me!!” you yelled, not even feeling the tears rushing out, “He never once laid a hand on me! He never brought me around that stuff! He never wanted me to suffer!”
“He was unstable!” your mom sobbed, doubling over as the dam of emotions broke for her.
Amanda gently gripped her arms, holding her up. She stared at you with a pained but apologetic expression.
“I know what it’s like to lose someone to addiction. I lost my father when I was 16. I was such a daddy’s girl growing up, so losing him was bad but discovering why I lost him only hours after I did made it worse,” Amanda said, filling the air with something other than cries and sobs. 
You stifled your cries, making them come out as jagged breaths and rough sniffs that made your throat tighten. But you stood your ground, standing tall as your mom tried so hard not to collapse to the ground. 
“You’re not… you're not coping well. I don’t want to lose you too.” your mom managed to get out between sobs, voice small and watery.
A sob escaped, shaking your body and making you stumble. 
“You’re not going to lose me, I swear. I’m okay. I just… I just need some time.” 
113 notes · View notes