#Flavor Shock. that shit's real man

[ticktokrobotsnot]

Turbulence

This is part 1.

You can read Part 2 here

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader 

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his shit-hole restaurant.

Word Count: 14k

warning: panic attacks, stabbing Richie in the ass, mentions of suicide, tax evasion lol

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After years of working in restaurants as an in-house accountant, Y/n met a lot of chefs. They were all the same, especially the good ones, and the worst part was that they all thought they were so unique and tortured. They assumed that their problems justified them yelling over a broken sauce or a pierced piece of veal. They made food look pretty and they served it to people. Women have been doing that for years and you don't have people praising them for that. Now some guy with a complex does it and its art, it's magical, it's jaw dropping. No, it was a waste of time and energy. 

It was food, a necessity and they had perverted it to some freak art show with conflicting flavors and overall mayhem. It was like a cult, where they convinced everyone that their ossobuco for breakfast, coq au vin for lunch, escargots de bourgogne for dinner, and crème brûlée for dessert wasn’t making them physically sick, mixing different cuisine in a failed attempt at being different. It was regular food served small, but the pretentiousness made y/n more sick than their food.

Y/n was willing to concede that Carmen wasn’t the worst chef she met. She got a job at the French Laundry a few years back and there really wasn’t a word that could adequately describe him because to her, Carmen was nothing but a shell of a man. 

In their brief encounters, y/n knew Carmen didn’t have a life outside of cooking. She would watch the chefs come in at the ass crack of dawn and Carmen was always there first. Even when he came to pick up his check at the end of the day, he would grab it before running back to the kitchen to check up on some marinated before he left. The stupid hunk of meat deserved more of his attention than the women handing him his paycheck. She had to refrain her self from screaming, “Look at me you stupid fuck, I’m here giving you your paycheck, look me in the fucking eyes. That steak isn’t going to do anything but get shit out in a few hours! I'm real, look at me.”

It was an immature and one-sided hate, Carmen didn’t really deserve it. However, she found it hard to resist seeing him as an easy target, given his passive nature and frustrating obliviousness to the situation. She never actually did anything crazy like mess with his paycheck or fuck with his W-2, it was more like glaring at him when no one was looking or taking a pen that feel out from his bookbag, holding on to it for a few days, and then dropping it near his locker a few days later. It was very harmless and it felt nice to finally have someone to bother, without actually bothering them. 

Every so often he would do something that would make it difficult to hate him fully. He would open the door for her when they were the first to come into work, or he would help her pick up some files that she dropped, or put that very pen back in her cup holder because he assumed that the pen was her pen to begin with. If he had said a single word to her, y/n would probably have had a bit of a crush on him but he never did, infact y/n never heard his voice. Her office was quite a walk from the kitchen so she was left wondering if he belonged to the boisterous brigade of chefs who bellowed at anything in their path, or if he truly possessed the quiet demeanor he exuded. If he were to speak a single syllable, he would transform from a mere embodiment of her job dissatisfaction into a fully-formed individual.

That's why she was confused when she got a phone call weeks after Carmen mysteriously left. The resignation was a shock to y/n, she never once expected him to quit, she thought he would die on top of the stove when his heart finally checked out from all that fat, sugar and acid at 65. She remembered mindlessly sticking his last paycheck in an envelope to ship to Chicago, maybe he got a better job there at Venteux, Brindille, or Les Nomades. They must have sent an amazing poacher for him to leave just about everything in his locker but his backpack and never look back. 

“Hello, is this y/n?” Y/n sat up on her couch wondering who was calling her at 9pm on a Tuesday.

“Yeah…Who is this?’ Y/n wondered if one of her friends gave out her number without asking her again. Even if this guy had a nice voice and sounded handsome she would have to reject him based on principle.

“It's Carmen…Berzatto… from the French Laundry.” Y/n dropped her phone in shock, not knowing what knocked the wind out of her lungs more, the fact that she was getting a call from an ex-employee, the fact that he had her number in the first place, the fact that she was getting this call scandalously late, or that he actually sounded like that. Jesus, he was really holding back on her. 

“Are you still there?” Y/n grabbed her phone from the floor and gave him a simple, “Yes.”

“How have you…been?” He was unsure how to approach this and he would never do this unless he was desperate, which he was. 

“I have been fine, I heard you moved to Chicago, a new exciting job?”

“That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Y/n didn’t probe because this felt like payback for all the times that she said something to him hoping that he would fill the space just for him to walk into that stupid fucking kitchen and leave her standing around like a fool. 

“Umm…It's a long story but I have this restaurant that needs a bit of accounting?” Y/n didn’t say anything and let him suffer in his own silence like she used to. She chose to flop down on her couch again. 

“I'm not sure what the right word is, but the books are a mess and I was wondering if you could have a look.” 

“Paid of course. Obviously I'm going to pay you.” He stumbled out. Finally, y/n thought, he was fumbling which was a nice change of pace from his usual stoicism. 

“What’s the place's name?” 

“The Beef.” Y/n sat up on her elbows.

“I have never heard of it before, how many stars does it have?”

“It doesn't have any.” 

“Okay…okay?…” Y/n was assuming that he started working at some nepo babies new pet restaurant, the pay must be amazing for him to leave like that. A part of her was proud of Carmen for choosing money over his craft. 

Y/n continued, “Give me the owner’s number and we can get the details together.” 

“I'm the owner.” She didn’t think that she could be rendered speechless by a guy who would probably combust if you squirted cheese-wiz within a 10 feet radius of him.

Y/n composed herself, he was calling for her which means that he needed her. She had the leverage and she wouldn’t ruin it by babbling like an idiot. “I can come by next week.”

She heard a distant sigh, “That's…yeah…yeah, that's great, we will cover travel and get you a place to stay.” Y/n wanted to be a bitch and demand first class and a five star hotel but she had a feeling that he would actually think she was being serious. 

“I’ll send over the information, y/n.” The sound of her name coming out his lips felt foreign, she had never heard her name spoken like that. 

“Good night, Carmen.” Just as she was about to hang up the phone she heard a quiet, “She said yes?” He doubted her. Good, y/n thought, he should doubt her, he doesn’t know anything about her and that was entirely his fault. She hung up the phone and searched up The Beef, she found a hundred restaurants with the same name. What the hell was Carmen doing at a restaurant that couldn’t even come up with an original name.

She gave herself a week to prepare even though she didn’t have a job anymore. She quit a few days after Carmen did, she had lost all motivation to go there everyday, without a target she was just flying till she splattered on the ground. 

The underlying reason for her self-imposed week of preparation was a strategic move to play hard to get. Y/n wanted Carmen to realize her value and understand that he needed her and that she was just as good as him, if not better. 

Immature, petty, bitchy, difficult, mean; maybe her mother was right about her after all. 

A week flew by and she was at baggage claim when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw a short woman in a blue apron and an eye-sore of a bandana. 

“I'm Sydney, I'm new. I’m here to pick you up, Carmen says he’s sorry couldn’t do it but we have to prep for the lunch rush.” The way that Sydney looked when speaking about Carmen showed that she had a deep respect for him and a small evil part of y/n wanted to convince Sydney that Carmen was actually tied to the mob or did ballet in his spare time. Something that would knock him off of a pedestal and make him more like a person and less like a God. 

Y/n picked up her luggage and wordlessly rolled it over to where Sydney had it parked. The ride to the restaurant was filled with questions that she really didn’t know the answer to, What was Carmen like in New York? What was a dish of his that y/n liked the most? 

Sydney should have asked what his salary was, that y/n knew like the back of her hand. Y/n answer those questions by repeating things that other people have said about Carmen. His plum desert was to die for, he was very methodical in the kitchen, and he ran a tight ship, what more could she possibly know? 

Sydney finally pulled over in a rough neighborhood and y/n wondered if Sydney needed to do an errand before they finished their journey but when she saw through the window that another guy was wearing the same color apron as Sydney, she knew that this was the famous “The Beef'' that took Carmen away from her. It wasn’t even called “The Beef'' it was called, “The Original Beef of Chicagoland '' which was somehow even worse. 

Y/n told Sydney that she needed a few moments to herself and when Sydney slipped inside, y/n started sprinting towards the pub next door. She gave the bartender a sob story about how she was looking for a job next door as a waitress and how she wanted to know what the situation was next door, for her safety, before she asked for a job. The bartender bought her story and gave her a quick review of what had happened. The previous owner killed himself, shot his brains out, and now it was under new management, the old guy’s brother. Yikes didn’t even begin to cover what y/n thought but that was the best she could come up with, so...Yikes. 

She ran back to the restaurant, fixed up her hair and walked in like she didn’t just hear a horrific story that was going to make it very difficult to do her job. 

Y/n walked in, and she felt like she was in an alternate dimension, y/n was by no means spoiled and she had eaten in worse places than this, but the thought that Carmen Berzatto, her Carmen Berzatto, was working in a place like this felt like a joke. She wondered how stupid he looked in his chef whites, slicked back hair, and annoying long apron that looked like a skirt.

The restaurant hadn’t opened yet but she was greeted by a woman named Tina who basically rolled her eyes at y/n and then disappeared into the kitchen. Sydney chirped in with a comforting, “Yeah…she’s like that.” Y/n gave her an understanding smile. She wasn’t expecting much because nobody likes an intruder. 

“Carmen said I need to look at some books. Do you know where they are…or where he is so he can tell me where they are?”

“Sdy, can you cover for me.” Y/n’s head snapped up, she recognized that voice from the phone call and was rendered speechless twice. He wasn’t wearing those migraine inducingly ugly chef whites but regular clothes with a blue apron. He had many more tattoos than she thought. His hair wasn’t slick back with gel but it was actually relaxed barring any sweat that might have pushed his hair back. Carmen was buff, which was such a shock to her that she really did feel like this was not real. And lastly, he called this “new” chef Sdy, a nickname. They were close, and y/n couldn’t explain it but that made her eyes twitch. She worked so hard to get to know him the first few months at the French Laundry and got nothing and now “Syd” got a nickname. 

She took a deep breath before, “It's been a while.”

“Thanks for coming, let me show you the books.” She was surprised to hear any form of thanks from him but the lack of small talk was really nothing new. She followed him through the kitchen and heat from all the stoves made her nauseous. There was a lot of yelling and it looked like it was an overall mess both aesthetically wise and teamwork wise. 

They finally got to the office, it had a worn desk littered with what looked like a fuck ton of papers, scratch that bills. Y/n looked up at Carmen who looked…ashamed. She took a deep breath before sitting down on the chair and looked up at Carmen waiting for him to give her a rundown of everything. They were behind on every bill imaginable, they hadn’t been able to pay vendors, and there were quotes for broken machines. Looks like Carmen’s brother left him a real shit show. 

This felt like winning the lottery, not only was she seeing an interesting puzzle for her to solve, she was able to see Carmen look human for once. It was a shame, however, that the only human emotion that he was showing was stress but something was better than nothing. One thing that was untouched was the payroll, he never was behind on paying his workers, y/n felt a slight tug in her chest but she ignored that.

He looked down at her, and asked, “I’m going to leave this with you…umm….” And then he left the kitchen. Y/n starting grabbing floating folders and organizing. Most of the stuff was kinda sorted, but stuff like old payroll documents were in a file called “shit”, so she thought a total revamp was necessary. 

It felt like y/n was an intern again, resigned to tedious work. After a few hours and a quick trip to Staples for office supplies, she had made the cluttered desk look like her old desk in the French Laundry…empty, sterile, cold.

With a deep breath she left the kitchen to find Sydney so she could unlock her car so that y/n could grab her laptop. The heat was bad, but the yelling was mind scrambling. It felt like she was dropped in a war zone trying to find where she parked her car, an innocent civilian amongst the war torn soldiers. She couldn’t be here any longer, she practically ran over to Sydney and asked for her car keys and was mindlessly directed to some lockers. Y/n could tell that she was busy so she didn’t ask which one in particular. 

She started opening random lockers, and after her third one she saw a familiar sight. A brown wool jacket, the same one she had seen Carmen wear in New York, she quickly shut the door. This was too much, he was becoming a bit too human, too real. She finally found the right locker and rushed to get her laptop and the rest of her luggage and shut the office door. 

She spent the first quarter of her day digitizing payroll as a quick warm up, she had a feeling that she would need it.

Y/n moved on to a leather bound book under a gas bill and after a quick glance she knew that this was going to be a fucking disaster. Whoever did the books used different coloured pens, was writing outside the lines, circling stuff randomly,  doodling, and this was just the visual disaster, the closer she looked at the chicken scratch the more she realized how deep in debt this palace was. Thousands of dollars were being drained seemingly randomly and then money was being put back just as chaotically. There was no record of how the money was being spent or where the money was coming from. Even though y/n didn’t know Carmen very well she knew he would never do this, it was that brother of his. The inside of the cover said Micheal Berzzato. 

She spent the rest of the day organizing the accounts payable and receivables. It was like trying to go through a dense forest with a pair of nail clippers but she got through a fraction of it. She already knew that the money wouldn’t add up and that if they got audited, the restaurant would be in deep shit. 

She had her headphones in and nearly fell off her chair if Carmen didn’t brace her when he came in unannounced. Her heart practically shot out of her ass but she pulled herself together. 

“I thought you would have left by now.”

Y/n looked at the time on her laptop and saw that it was 11:30pm, she was a bit impressed with herself. Look at me Carmen, I can also throw myself at my work and I didn’t need people to think I'm God’s gift to man. 

“I lost track of time, is the restaurant still open?” Carmen shook his head. Y/n sat up and ushered him to the chair. She didn’t like it when people hovered over her and she wanted Carmen to look up at her for once. She placed her left hand on the back of his chair and her right on the laptop’s trackpad. 

“Your payroll needed to be updated, no one does this on paper anymore.” Y/n showed him how to move things around, how to change certain information, etc and she was expecting him to half heartedly listen but was pleasantly surprised when he sat there and listened. He asked meaningful questions which almost made her fall over, he wanted to learn and that was very… admirable. Y/n had to snap herself out of it, of course he was listening, she was brought here to fix and teach, and she wasn’t cheap either. 

She then directed him to the organized files and how to maintain file organization in case he was ever audited. He stared with such intensity that she had to turn around and pretend that she was looking for a file. She spent her entire career working in a building where almost no one knew her name, or really looked at her. The chefs were busy with their eye filets and lobster to look at her, management spoke to her through emails but now she was center stage which was making it hard to focus.

She ended her presentation with a short run down of the order that he should pay off certain bills based on priority. She finally looked down at him and was surprised that he was still looking back at her. 

“Wow…all that in a day?” Y/n only presented 50% of the work she did today, omitting the illicit money transactions Micheal had orchestrated, and here Carmen was looking at her like she was God’s gift to him. 

“It’s going to take a while to decipher this,” holding up the leather book, “but it's not impossible.” 

Carmen parted his lips before closing them a few times, “How long can you stay here? Like how many vacation days did you take?” 

Y/n debated telling him that she still had a job back home but there really wasn’t any point in lying to make herself look good for Carmen. Y/n was never one to be unnecessarily cruel, just a bit of a nuisance, so she would give him a bit of satisfaction. It was to make up for what she put him through in New York. She pretended to search for something on her laptop while avoiding Carmen’s eyes beneath her. 

“I don’t work there anymore.” Carmen’s head shot up and he wondered if he had heard that correctly. He wanted to ask why she left but he knew that would be crossing a line. 

“What are your future plans?” Y/n looked up and wondered that as well. 

She knew she had to leave French Laundry, she hated the long hours, overbearing bosses, and most of all she hated the people she worked with. There was a team of accountants who worked near her and even though she did the majority of the work she always had to fight to get a seat at the table. She was smart, talented, and competent but she was always officially relegated to payroll even when she was the one who spent weeks organizing binders filled with projection just for some jackass to get the credit. The issue wasn’t just her coworkers but her bosses that assumed that someone else had done the research and let her present, and infuriatingly no one ever corrected management. Add all of that with the loss of what she considered her only acquaintance, she ran as fast as she could. 

As for future plans, she had enough money to live a relatively nice life even if she didn’t find work for a year. She hated the French Laundry but she couldn’t sell them short, they paid her very well. 

“I don’t know, I will probably have to find a new job.” That piqued Carmen’s interest, he assumed that she had another job lined up because y/n didn’t seem like the type to get up and leave without an exit strategy. 

“If you're interested…” Carmen didn’t want to get his hopes up but he knew that he needed her here, this couldn’t work without someone like her. “You can always work here.”

Carmen’s head was swimming, if she said yes that would make his life a million times easier. He might actually be able to sleep a full eight hours. 

Y/n didn’t really know how to respond, she didn’t hate the idea. “Am I going to be the only one working finance here?” Carmen’s chest fell, of course this was too much for one person. 

“Yeah but if you need more peo-” 

“Just me is fine. I don’t like working with other people.” Clear and blunt, y/n didn’t want to waste his time. 

“Yeah..” Carmen looked one last look at the computer screen with the filled excel sheets that transformed his brother’s horrible business practices to legible spreadsheets and he knew he definitely needed her. 

“What time do you want me to come tomorrow?” 

“Whenever is good for you?” 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “You are paying for my services so act like it.” What she said was rude and slightly uncalled for.

Carmen looked up at her and felt like he was back in New York again, like when he was too scared to talk to her or when he would catch her glaring at him from the corner of his eye. Carmen knew she didn’t like him but if he needed her so what could he do, most of his staff already hated him so what was one more. 

Y/n sighed, she tried to intimidate him to force him to toughen up but it looks like it just made him clam up. “That was really rude for me to say, but I think you need to hear it.” Y/n had a feeling that he was going to remember this so she thought she started to do damage control. 

“All I ever hear about your food is how amazing and jaw dropping and delicious and mind blowing it is. You are very..” Y/n struggled to find a neutral word that would allow her to lift his spirits but not too high, “..competent. Your staff however…”

That got Carmen to pick up his head, “They are goo-” 

“And I bet they are good but you can’t do your job and show off their skills and talents if they all walk around you like that. Can I be frank with you?” Carmen slowly nodded his head. 

“I don’t see your restaurant lasting very long with the crew you have here.” Carmen knew that but hearing it out loud stung. “You have to make a few changes, either swap out a few annoying chefs or make them change.” 

A few hours prior, y/n’s curiosity had gotten the best of her and she looked through Sydney’s resume. It was stacked with good restaurants and she even had a brief stint at catering, y/n didn’t hesitate to admit that Sydney was just as capable as Carmen. 

“Get Sydney more involved, she can do much more than what you have her doing now.” Y/n saw Sdyney’s pay which showed that she was getting paid a regular chef salary, she deserved sous-chef. Carmen nodded his head but he was looking away, in his mind he wondered how she could possibly even know that while sitting in his office all day. 

“They’re used to doing things a certain way.” 

“I'm guessing fear is not your management style.” Y/n pondered how she would fix a situation like this if she was in his shoes. “I would say avoid baptism by fire.” 

Y/n continued, “It's going to be a mess but you just need to lead the kitchen like you did in New York for the first few days and then transfer the responsibility to Sydney who will be watching the entire time so she isn’t thrown into a pile of shit on her first day and quit. That way you can continue to do whatever you were doing in New York.” 

It had never occurred to Carmen that y/n didn’t know what he did, but then again he barely  knew what she did. He would watch her typing away or he would hear fragments of urgent phone calls about audits, and give out checks. But other than that he didn’t know what she did for the rest of her day, so he had to swallow his discontentment with her not noticing him because he was no better than her. 

“I think you need to expect more from people, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.” Y/n concluded. 

It was quiet barring the sound of the lights buzzing. Just as y/n was about to slip out, Carmen swiftly stood up and walked out the office towards the kitchen and started pulling out bowls. 

“I thought you said that this place was closed, what are you making?” 

“What do you want to eat?” Carmen wasn’t looking at her as he grabbed a knife and a cutting board. 

“Umm…You don’t need-”

“Give me something, y/n”

“It's late, Carmen.” 

“You’ve been here all day and you didn’t eat anything…” Y/n gave him a disapproving look.

“Y/n.” He asserted, she couldn’t leave in good faith without eating something. 

She didn’t fail to notice that when he lost control back in the office he came rushing out to re-assert his power by forcing her to eat something he was going to make.

“I don’t know…something easy and wont fuck up my stomach.” Y/n conceded.

Carmen smirked, and y/n was able to appreciate his objective handsomeness. After a few minutes of chopping she was presented with a simple salad. 

“I tried to replicate the salad dressing from what I smelled from the last time I went to your office.” Y/n was shocked, she didn’t know that he noticed stuff like that, she was also amused that he had a great nose, both functionally and aesthetically. 

 Y/n was also surprised when Carmen asked her, “Why did you leave?”

“Why did you?” Y/n countered, she knew the answer but she assumed that he wouldn’t tell her. This felt like a decent way to manufacture some space. One step forward for making a meal and 2 steps back for asking probing questions. 

“My brother used to own this place…and he died…killed himself.” Carmen was full of surprises today. 

Y/n mumbled out, “I hated working there so much I would crawl out of bed hoping that I would fall, crack my head open and never have to step foot in there anymore… I would be gagging a block away from work every single day because I couldn’t stomach another second in my office.” 

Y/n assumed that Carmen couldn’t relate, he was a god back in New York.

“I used to throw up every morning.” Y/n put her fork down and looked up at Carmen who continued. “And I would get these heat flashes while I was there even when the kitchen was like negative three-thousand fucking degrees.” 

They were never good enough. 

It was an embarrassing thing for both of them to admit, they tried to survive in New York and failed because they were weak, but at least they were in good company. 

“My boss was a dick. He used to say crazy shit just to get a rise out of me.” Y/n didn’t know that Carmen had a boss, she just assumed that he ran the kitchen. 

“Who was your boss?” Y/n went down her rolodex of names before landing on, “That guy with the huge forehead?” 

Carmen covered his mouth with his hand but she knew there was a smile underneath. She was able to get a good look at his tattoo, she had only caught glimpses when he would grab an envelope from her or hold the door. At the time she thought it was out of place but seeing the whole picture, Carmen with his wavy hair, gold chain, smirk, and arm littered with tattoos she realized that she was missing out on a lot. 

Y/n finished her salad and helped him clean up before they locked up the restaurant and Carmen stuffed her luggage in the trunk. 

“You’ve seen our books..”

Y/n gave a small hum.

“So you know that we can’t put you in a hotel for weeks.”

“If I'm not staying at a hotel, where am I going?” Y/n was ready to jump out of the car if he said his house. 

“I have a family friend of a friend who is visiting family down in Florida, and she said you can stay there.” 

A weight was lifted off of y/n shoulders, y/n was feeling bold, “You’ve ever been to Florida?”

“I went once to check out a few restaurants when I was younger, you?” Y/n hid it well but she was shaking in nerves because it was the first time in years that she was getting some small talk out of him. 

“I went to Disney with my family and got a heat stroke. How long is your family friend of a friend staying in Florida?”

“More than 2 months later, she left like a few days ago.” That caused some concern for y/n, she was going to stay in a house that had been abandoned for a few days in a new city, it was like the beginning of a B - rated horror film. The possibility of a serial killer waiting to turn her into a lamp shade was probably close to zero but it still freaked her out. Carmen pulled into the driveway carrying all of her bags leaving her with just her purse. 

They approached the front of the house and Carmen opened the door and started placing the suitcases near the entryway, and y/n kept the door open, and Carmen got the hint. She wasn’t going to forge some type of artificial connection by asking him to help her walk through the house for any intruders because that would require her to rely on him. 

To y/n, Carmen was unreliable, he could ignore her for years, only to suddenly offer her rides and engage in small talk. What puzzled her even more was his transition from avoiding eye contact to intensely staring her down. Y/n could tell from the sound that leaked from under the office door that he had an underlying temper, a bad one too. She didn’t want to be swept up in his current and be left high and dry. He seemed like he picked up things quickly and left them just as sporadically. While she recognized his passion for food and cooking, ensuring her job stability, Carmen was…unsteady.

Y/n knew people like him, people who hurt those who were close to them when they felt trapped. What feared y/n the most was what would eventually come out of her mouth if they ever got too close and Carmen said something to make her go away. He would say something vile and y/n would probably say that he is nothing, or that he is a failure, or that it should have been him and not his brother. 

The thought of saying something so profoundly awful and untrue haunted her, making it impossible for her to bear the weight on her conscience. She had crossed that line before and was acutely aware of her limits. Carmen represented that limit—a boundary she couldn't afford to cross—rendering him off-limits in her life.

Carmen left a quiet goodbye and y/n gave him one back before shutting the door grabbing a knife and going through each of the rooms herself. She didn’t need him or anyone. 

Once she went through the house with a fine tooth comb she locked herself in one of the bedrooms, got ready for bed. Her lease in New York expired in a few weeks so she knew she had to fly back to grab her stuff. She couldn’t sleep in this grandma’s house any longer so she grabbed her laptop and started looking for apartments. 

Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and she felt nauseous before she remembered that she wasn’t crawling back to the French Laundry, she was trying something new. She got ready and spent the whole morning calling realtors and scheduling showings. She took the train to The Beef and when she came in, it looked like they were about to have some type of meeting outfront. Y/n slipped into the office and was momentarily shocked that Carmen was there. She put her bag behind the chair while Carmen was sitting, subtly telling him to fuck off and that this was her desk now. Carmen got up, “What a good boy? So smart”, y/n chuckled in her head. 

“What is happening out front? Do I need to sit in?” 

“We need to introduce you and we are going to transition to a french brigade, I just spoke to Sydney..”

“How did she take it? You told her you were going to take the lead or did-?”

Carmen was checking his watch obsessively, “She will be fine.” Looks like Carmen was in a hurry and so y/n didn’t even wait for Carmen to open the door before she walked over to the meeting.

She didn’t sit down because there wasn’t a chair for her. She saw the other chefs look at her but no one bothered to ask any questions. Sydney was standing right next to her and y/n saw that she was rehearsing her lines that were written in a small black notebook. 

“Don’t mention the role titles, it's just going to scare them off.” Sydney looked up at her. “And keep it short and don’t fumble your words, you’ll sound like a fourth grader.” Sydney opened her mouth but was cut off by Carmen walking out front. 

Carmen started explaining about how they were getting new aprons, how he wanted to reorganize the kitchen, and how they needed to be clean. He did not yet explain the elephant in the room to the rest of the chefs; who was y/n and what the hell is she doing here? Carmen was interrupted by a tall man walking in very late. 

He took one look at y/n before pointing at her with a coffee cup, “Who are you? Cousin, why are you collecting women?”

“I am y/n, I am the new accountant.” Any form of teasing and snickering died down as a new worry washed over the staff, if Carmen was changing everything he might start changing staff. If y/n could sense it, then so could Carmen and just as she looked up to him for support he quickly excused himself because he had somewhere to be. He just left her to deal with this mess. See? Not stable. 

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Your not fucking firing anyone.” The tall guy threatened.

“Nobody is getting fired, no one is getting a pay cut and no one is getting replaced. If anything like that happens, that is Carmen’s decision.” Y/n allowed herself to throw Carmen under the bus just once because he left her. 

“I’ll just be keeping the books in order.”

“Richie, sit down.” An older woman instructed. 

“Carmen said something about a French brigade, it's essentially what you guys are doing just with more defined roles, it's not too different. Sydney will elaborate.” Y/n though she did an acceptable job not throwing Sydney head first like Carmen did and Sydney seemed to be a lot more comfortable then she was a few minutes ago. She didn’t title drop and she didn’t fumble. The crew was obviously annoyed but it was over quickly and Sydeny walked over to y/n. 

They walked into the kitchen and Sydeny was feeling overwhelmed because Carmen wasn’t here like he said that he would be. 

“Thanks for the pointers” 

“No problem. Do you need me to help?” Y/n had seen the inner workings of a kitchen before, granted it had been many years prior and in a different restaurant then the French Laundry but she thought that she would be better support then Carmen, who wasn’t even there. 

Y/n spent most of her time calling out orders, tracking what was sent out and doing quality checks, it wasn’t rocket science and she never understood why all those male chefs were screaming all the time, Sydney walked around and did her job as sous-chef. Overall, a very calm transition barring a few hiccups. A few of the chefs tried to steal some onions and y/n had to leave her station and tell them to basically fuck off. Sydney was already tense and doing stupid shit like that would send her over the edge.

The lunch rush was over and y/n was finally reprieved from her duties. She needed some air so she walked outside and into an alley where she saw Carmen.

She was beyond pissed at him, and the sight of him made her boil in rage but she couldn’t leave based on principle. 

“How was Sydney?” Carmen asked.  Y/n felt like murdering him. She took a few deep breaths before continuing to speak. He wouldn't listen to her if she screamed at him.

“You should have been there.” Y/n said with a bit of an edge.

It was quiet for a long time. Y/n put her head back.

“I went to an Al-Anon meeting, my brother was an addict. It’s his birthday today” 

“How often are the meetings? Once a week?” Carmen nodded.

“Did it maybe occur to you to push back the transition one more day so you didn’t leave Sydney alone?” Y/n said calmly and with no malice, she was so exhausted from her lack of sleep, food, and being on her feet all day. 

Carmen didn’t say anything, so y/n continued, “You're a steam roller. You don’t listen to other people and you don't think of other people. You left Sydney to drown, that wasn’t great. Not to mention you didn’t even introduce me.”

Carmen's gaze bore into her with undeniable intensity, yet y/n was too upset with him to be swayed by any semblance of attraction.

“I’ll do better. I’ll listen and be there.”

“We’ll see.” Saying you were going to change was different than actually changing. 

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she graced him with a small smile. "You know, your job isn't that tough," she playfully teased, tilting her head back slightly.

“Really?” Carmen thought she was being serious.

“No kidding, you should hand me your apron and the deed to this restaurant because I just killed it today.” Carmen caught on.

“What did you do today?” 

“Called out orders, made sure things were leaving the kitchen, blah blah blah. Honestly, it's kind of fun. It's like those restaurant management phone games, do you ever play those?” 

“That would hit a little too close to home.” Y/n snickered.

“My head is spinning and I didnt even start the work I'm supposed to do today.” Y/n sat up with a sigh.

“What do you eat?” Y/n didn’t respond. Carmen got up and came back a few minutes later with a plate of food. 

Y/n finished eating before walking inside and finishing up her actual work. The day ended and she was once again the last one left barring Carmen, who offered to drive her back.

As they both sat in the quiet car y/n spoke up, “I have to go back to New York.” Carmen’s grip tightened around the wheel.

“I said I would do better.” 

“I'm not leaving permanently, I need to grab my stuff and tell my landlord that I am leaving.” 

Carmen’s grip loosened, “You found a place here already?”

“I have a few candidates. I might have to leave in the afternoons for a few weeks to check out some places, I'll be back in an hour or two.” 

The rest of the ride was quiet, he dropped her off and y/n crashed into bed. 

__

Y/n had already been working for a few weeks when she came back to a dark restaurant. She walked in and saw Carmen and Fak talking, “ I thought you had a connection.” 

“Yeah, I definitely, definitely did not.” Which was followed by more whispering and then a loud, “Fuck” from Carmen. 

“What’s happening?” Carmen shot a look at Fak that sent him away and Carmen gave her a quick run down, the power was out and they needed 5,500 dollars to repair. 

“There isn’t any money in the budget but maybe if you finance…” Carmen looked around to check if anyone was there before directing her to his office. Y/n turned on her phone flashlight so they could see. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and it's completely hypothetical. Like not even a little bit true and you can tell me what the outcome would be.” Y/n nodded her head.

“Suppose we had a way to get the money but it wasn’t completely…legal…hypothetically. I'm not asking anything illegal because this is hypothetical… but what would happen to the books hypothetically?” 

“You can talk like a regular fucking person, you know, I'm not going to snitch. Do you need me to fix some books?” 

“I shouldn't have said anything.” Carmen started walking towards the door and y/n grabbed his shirt and pushed him towards the chair. He looked up at her and the phone light made her look like a prophecy discovered in a dream, so angel-like. Her words, not so much.

“You brother died so any fuck up that he did will result in us having to pay a fine which is not the end of the world, but if you fuck up… then thats malice and its jail time plus a fine…”

Y/n knew it was harsh so she softened her voice before uttering, “Let me help you, I want to help you.” Carmen was having a hard time focusing, she wanted to help him which means that she cared about him. Maybe her words were like an angel. 

“Is it a one time payment or is it…” Camen wasn’t responding, he was just looking up at her. Before she could ask what his problem was, he interrupted.

“I have to ask Richie.” Carmen peeled himself off the chair and opened the door for y/n. They walked to the front where y/n saw Richie and Fak were glaring at each other. Carmen and y/n took a seat.

“What is she doing here?” Richie said while not hiding his disdain for her. 

“She has to make this legal.” Carmen explained. 

Rcihie signaled for Carmen and Fak to come closer. “WHY DID YOU BRING A FUCKING NARC HERE?” Richie yelled into Carmen’s ears which made him reel back and clutch his ear. Y/n had to look away to hide her laughter. 

Carmen rushed to her defense, “She isn’t-”

“I won't. I'm just going to clean it up and we will never have to talk about it again.”

“We can’t trust her, why would you fucking bring her?” He asked Carmen who repeated what she said to him in the office about malice and jail. 

“I know you don’t trust me but I need this place running so that everyone here has a job next month. I don’t even need to know how you got it.”

Richie looked like he was thinking, before he threatened, “If you squeal i’m going to put your head on a fucking stick.” He looked like he was apprehensive but realized that this was the only way to protect Carmen so he had to risk trusting her. 

Y/n didn’t pay attention to their little squabble afterwards, but then the lights flickered on. They were back in business. Carmen slammed his palms on the counter and exclaimed a relieved, “Fuck” which made y/n short circuit for a second. It was nice to hear him happy for a change.

The rest of the day was spent creating fake receipts and adjusting inventory to account for the new money. It was busy work and after a long time, Carmen came into her office, it was her office for sure, squatters rights. 

“Are we good?”

“The IRS will be none the wiser…” Y/n said she wouldn’t ask but the curiosity was killing her.

“How did you guys get the money?”

“I don’t want to put you in deeper shit and this isn’t your scene.” He looked like he regret dragging her into his mess in the first place.

“Did you know when I was younger I used to shoplift.” Carmen looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“You don’t need to lie to-.” 

“I used to walk into stores and steal, I had the money to buy stuff but sometimes I just felt like taking something…so I did.” She wanted to be on an even playing ground as him so he wouldn’t hesitate to come to her in case something like this happened again. She couldn’t do her job if he hid stuff from her.

“You want to know what the most expensive thing I stole?” 

“I still don’t believe you stole anything.” He said with a laugh. 

“I stole someone’s wallet. It had $527 dollars and a bunch of credit cards, Ethan Thompson. Slid it right out of his pocket.” 

“What did you do with the money?” Carmen asked. Y/n debated lying but she thought honesty was how he would learn to trust her.

“I didn’t spend it, I waited outside till he came out and gave the wallet back. Told him that he dropped it. It was the only thing I ever gave back.” Carmen stared at her with a bewildered expression before laughing into his palm. 

“That seems like something you would do.” 

“Why do you say that?” Y/n was offended that he was insinuating that she was a loser.

“You are honest to a fault. Brutally honest.” 

“It's hard work but I try. Would you have returned it?” Carmen nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I bet you would have gone the extra mile and turned it into the police.”

A lull of silence passed and it was clear that Carmen wasn’t going to tell her so she switched topics. 

“I don’t want to be mean, but sometimes that's the only way I can get people to listen to me…I’ve been working on it.” 

Carmen didn’t want to be a smart-ass and say that he noticed a significant difference from her behavior towards him now compared to New York. She didn’t look like she was disgusted by him anymore. A bit of him wondered if he could change as effortlessly as y/n, she made it look so easy. 

“By the way…I'm going to take this office. Like it's mine now.” Carmen wondered if she was joking because she had a smile on her face.

“If you want it, take it. I never want to see another spreadsheet in my life.” If y/n smiled at him like that it would be nearly impossible for him to say no to anything. It was like finally getting her approval after working hard to get it in New York, like when he used to wake up early so he could walk in with her and open the door for her. 

There was a lull of and just as Carmen was going to fill it with a probing question y/n beat him to it. 

"Was it a murder-for-hire?" Y/n inquired, but Carmen remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"Sex work? Tax evasion? Robbery? Drugs?..." y/n continued, listing off possibilities, and in that moment, Carmen's lips tightened imperceptibly. It was a subtle movement, one that might have gone unnoticed by most, but for y/n, it was captivating, drawing her further into his enigmatic presence.

“Drugs.” She said with a slight smile,  

“I'm not admitting to anything. Did you find a place you liked?” Carmen wanted to distract her but he also wanted to keep her here longer and he finally had the confidence and momentum to keep her talking.

“I found one, it’s like 20 minutes from here. One-bedroom but it looks much better than my shit box in New York. And they are going to hold it for a while while i get my shit from back home” 

“What neighborhood?” Carmen’s heart leaped when she said the same neighborhood that he stayed in, but he controlled himself.

“That new building? I walk past it everyday.” Carmen didn’t offer to carpool because he didn’t want to hear a rejection. That would kill any confidence he might have gained in the last few weeks. 

“We're neighbors, that's nice. You have a car, can we carpool?” Carmen wondered if she could read minds. 

“I get here early and leave late-”

“I’ll just come and go when you do. I don’t have anything else to do in Chicago anyways…I booked a flight for tomorrow morning to get my stuff.” She moves fast Carmen thought. It was admirable how she knew what she wanted, planned her moves and executed them in record time. He wondered if she ever panicked and fumbled like he did, if she did he never saw it. 

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven” 

“I can drive you.” Y/n wondered if this was too much, she didn’t want to rely on him. 

“I’ll take a cab, you have to be here for Sydney.” She didn’t leave Carmen any room to argue. 

The next couple of months were much better than Carmen thought was possible. Y/n had engrained herself in their team, and Carmen was able to get his eight hours of sleep every night. They finally had enough money to not feel like the whole restaurant was going to crash and burn.

Sydney had brought up the idea of to-go orders placed through a tablet and after much deliberation and consulting with y/n, he decided to give it ago. 

Y/n had stepped out to sign for delivery and was making some pleasant conversation before she heard some commotion from the kitchen. She bid the delivery man a goodbye before walking in to see what the situation was. 

Y/n had never seen the kitchen in such chaos since her first day. Carmen's voice reverberated, barking out orders, while Sydney unleashed her own tirade upon Marcus for mishandling the cake cutting. Tension hung heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere. It was clear to y/n that this wouldn’t end well. Jogging over to Sweeps, who thankfully wasn't completely overwhelmed, she learned that Sydney had messed up the to-go order settings, resulting in a barrage of pre-orders due within a few minutes. Y/n hesitated for a moment, positioning herself in a corner, desperately searching for a way to be of use amidst the chaos. With her limited culinary skills, she felt somewhat helpless, unsure of where she could provide the most assistance.

“Um, I’m doing them in five–” Sydney stuttered.

“No, no, stop. Fire everything right fucking now!”

“Step out.” He was interrupted by Sydney’s excuses.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY EXPO, CHEF, NOW!” That made y/n jump, she heard him yell before but this was a lot worse, the shock made it impossible for her to look anywhere but the back of his head.  

Just as things looked like they couldn't get worse she heard a loud crash and saw two cakes on the floor. Y/n rushed over there to de-escalate and practically had to rip Sydney away from Richie.

“I said corner.” Richie said childishly. Y/n was starting to feel like a babysitter. And just as y/n was about to run over to her office to hide, she hears Sydney snap at Tina. Y/n guides Tina away from Sydney. 

“Somebody get me a fucking sharpie!” Carmen bellowed and y/n ran to the office and pulled out a few and placed them in front of Carmen then walked back to her little corner. She heard that Richie and Sydney were at it again, sensing that round two was going to be worse she had to go check on that mess. Sydney is harping on and on about how much of a loser Richie and y/n was forced to step in when she hears Sydney talk about Richie’s daughters while waving a knife. 

“What the fuck are you guys’ doing? We do not have the time for your asinine bullshit?” Sydney doesn’t even look over and y/n had to tug at Richie to get him to step down, normally y/n would appeal to Sydney’s good graces but she couldn’t go near her when she was waving a knife around. 

“Richie, why don’t we take a step back and-” y/n asked. 

“WHY ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!” Y/n turned her head and saw Carmen squishing something Marcus gave him before throwing it on the floor. 

“Yo, Cousin, just fuckin chill-” Richie stepped back and even when she saw where the knife was headed she was to slow to do anything. Richie walked into the knife and blood started pouring out. 

Y/n felt her breath pick up, her palms started to itch, and she was seeing double. She fought her nerves and led Richie to the front where Ebra would dress his wounds. Y/n didn’t want to look at Richie’s bare ass but she had to make sure it wasn’t bad enough to warrant a hospital trip, it didn’t and y/n saw that as a complete win. 

Y/n ran back to the kitchen towards Sydney where she was sitting near the lockers. She was about to leave. 

“We need you, you can’t leave. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.” Y/n desperate, she knew the face of someone who had given up and she saw it all over Sydney. 

“He is being a little bitch.” Y/n didn’t know how to fix Carmen’s attitude so she did the next best thing, stall.

“Please, give me a day to fix this. I’ll have him come around and apologize, I'll make him regret even getting out of bed. Just please stay till this blows over. We need you. Please.” Y/n was beyond desperate, she couldn't stand doing Carmen’s job of managing his team but she forced herself to pull through. Sydney backed down and went to the sink to wash her knife before going back to prep. 

Y/n hears Carmen walk over to Sydney and ask, “We good, chef?”, who wasn’t responding. This bastard was so incredibly dense y/n almost wanted Sydney to blow up in his stupid face and maybe stab him in the ass too but she denied herself that pleasure and quickly diverted Carmen over to the expo. 

“Now is not the time. Do this later… Please.” Y/n was grasping at straws here and she wasn’t even given the satisfaction of being able to yell at someone. Carmen went back to his expo but not before bending down and eating something off the floor. He has definitely lost it, y/n muttered. 

She went to find Marcus who was just about to leave. She thanked him for today and apologized on Carmen’s behalf. Y/n didn’t want to be a bitch but Marcus was not high on her priority list right now, him leaving would let her deal with less people and make her job easier. 

She ran out front to check up on Richie again. “Please tell me you're okay.” He gave a small laugh and then a grunt. She saw that he was grasping an empty carton of cigarettes. 

Y/n didn’t know how, but the storm passed and the doors opened for customers. Y/n slipped out and bought a carton of cigarettes and some painkillers from a nearby gas station and handed them over to Richie.

“I know this isn’t even a good enough apology but I’m really sorry about today.”

“You didn’t do anything.” 

“You're not going to get an apology from Sydney for a while so let my apology be a placeholder.” Y/n rounded her eyes and tried to see if there was any residual tension from this morning and to her relief Richie was fine. 

“Tell me if you need something.” She then went back to the kitchen and Sydney was still cutting stuff and Carmen was yelling out orders with less fury. Y/n wasn’t going to have anything positive to say to either of them so she would wait till after the lunch rush. She slipped back to the front and sat on a bar stool with her laptop. She couldn’t face either of the chefs right now. 

Looking at Sydney was difficult, and the longer that y/n waited out front with Richie to make sure he didn’t die of blood loss while manning the front, the more pissed she got at Sydney for not having the decency to come out to check up on Richie or even apologize. 

Looking at Carmen was even more difficult, a part of y/n wanted to be proven wrong about her previous notions about pretentious chefs. But both Sydney and Carmen were the only one’s screaming and that because they felt like they were entitled to it, that they were the only ones who were allowed to be stressed and upset. They were selfish and that was a painful thing for y/n to admit about Carmen because that meant that his promise to change when she first came here was a lie. He couldn’t handle any type of stress without flipping out and she wondered if this was even the right profession for him. 

The lunch crowd died down and she directed Sydney towards her office and shut the door, “You want to tell me what happened today?” Y/n faked the sincerity, Sydney wouldn’t talk if y/n was hostile.

“Carmen was being a dick. Everyone else is dealing with the same shit but now…” Y/n didn’t want to hear anything else for her. 

“How is Richie?” Y/n asked with a bit of an edge. 

“He walked into my kni-” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

“I don’t know, okay? But it was his fault,” Y/n had to remind herself to take a few deep breaths, she wouldn’t let her anger get the best of her and she would refrain from yelling.

“When you finish with your shift, can you please talk to Richie, at least pretend like you care that you stabbed someone.”

“He called me a bitch and was all over my station, he deserved it, ” 

“You deserved to be called more than a bitch.” Y/n regretted the words as soon as they came out but she wasn’t going to lose face. Sydney looked shocked but y/n kept her face stoic.

“Talk to him.” 

Sydney didn’t respond but y/n knew she wouldn’t talk to Richie. 

Y/n felt her blood bubbling, “You could move to fucking Timbuktu and be a chef there and you still wouldn’t rise above average, do you know why?” Y/n didn’t give her a chance to answer. 

“It's because you are the problem, you are selfish and you don’t think. You can quit here and never look back and you know what is going to happen next? You're going to find another job and then leave that job and then find another job and leave that one too and keep doing that till you die.” It was getting harder for y/n to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in. 

“I have been gracious enough to give you the space to grow, I told Carmen to make you sous but every second that I take my eyes off either of you, it's like shit hits the fan. Are neither of you capable of doing your jobs?” Y/n was ranting. 

“If today was so bad that you have to make someone else's life miserable and then whine about yourself, you shouldn’t even be allowed to work in soup kitchens.” Y/n took a painful deep breath, her head was spinning and she was suppressing the urge to start dry-heaving. 

“You will forever be nothing unless you change, you are impatient, selfish, whiny, annoying, vindictive, and…and..” Y/n had to end on a good note or else Sydney might actually quit. 

“..capable of doing better. I have seen the way you cook and manage a kitchen when it's not a shit storm. I bet in a few years you're going to make Carmen’s food taste like MREs. You are destined for good things but that will only happen when you grow up.” 

Sydney was quiet before she stomped out of y/n’s office and slammed the door shut. 

Y/n sank down onto the floor, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. It was as if she had been transported back to New York, constantly juggling her and her co-worker’s workload and assuming the role of the villain. She desperately sought control, but the grip of the panic attack tightened its hold, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to regain control over her racing thoughts. It was an exhausting battle, one that felt all too familiar. She grasped at the chair trying to stay up right but after a few moments of dizziness, she slipped to the ground. 

She was keenly aware that she couldn't single-handedly orchestrate transformative change in just a few short months but she thought that Carmen would at least learn to step up. She longed for a sense of calm and it burned to know that Carmen was incapable of being that for her now. The knowledge weighed heavily on y/n's heart. The realization that Carmen, the one person she had hoped could offer her some semblance of stability and support because he said he would, was not yet equipped to be that pillar for her. It was a painful acknowledgement, one that underscored the inherent instability that defined their dynamic. Carmen was not stable. 

Y/n took a few deep breaths, wiped her tears, and stood up after pushing her sadness and disappointment with Sydney and, more importantly, Carmen in a deep crevice in her mind. 

The kitchen had lost two chefs but it was still running smoothly because it was a slow day. Y/n discreetly circled the kitchen, she made a conscious effort to conceal the fact that her blood was boiling, striving to maintain composure amidst the chaos.

And just as she was about to retreat to her office, the man of the fucking hour decided to show up. 

“Bad news guys, we have to close for dinner today because we are having a bachelor party in the front.” Y/n looked at a few sips of water, she needed to ground herself and resist throwing the cup of ice water in his face. Carmen glanced up at her and was met with the same eyes from New York, the ones which were glaring at him, disgusted with him, hated him. Y/n walked over to the alley and Carmen followed her even when she didn’t ask. 

Y/n indicated that he sat down with a pointed look with her eyes, y/n stayed standing. 

“I was hired to be your accountant, but today I was playing babysitter for a bunch of grown fucking adults. Why am I walking around your kitchen and apologising to your fucking staff while you do absolutely nothing.” She took a staggered breath.

"They were goddamn pre-orders, for crying out loud! If they were a little late, it's not like a customer would barge into the fucking kitchen to hang you. You guys have already had a C health rating and got into a fight with some customers a while back, so clearly customer satisfaction isn’t the issue.” The corners of her eyes were turning hazy. 

“Why the hell do other people have to clean up your damn mess? How hard would it have been for you to tell Richie to inform the customers that the orders were going to be a bit late?” Carmen didn’t look up, keeping his focus on y/n’s shoes. 

“Not fucking difficult at all, its like…like you wanted an excuse to be a prick.”

“Its your fucking entitlement, you are just like Sydney. You are selfish and you will never amount to anything unless you learn to deal with your problems. I mean this in the most blunt and sincere way possible: go to fucking therapy. If money's a problem, I'll foot the bill. I want you to go there and let them throw every damn thing they have at you, from drawing pictures to giving you a fucking lobotomy." Y/n’s face was getting hot and she could feel her forehead burn up.

“You are running a kitchen in a shitty neighborhood with people who would be happy if you served them insulation in between two pieces of drywall, it has never and will never be that serious.” Y/n gave herself some time to breathe before giving him a little bit more. 

“You’re the head of the kitchen, you're supposed to be everyone’s support. You have to be…s-stable.” It was difficult for y/n to choke out that word, it hurt too much. “Your team shouldn’t have to walk on fucking eggshells when things get tough.”

“You promised me that you would do better, that is the whole reason I chose to stay. Did you know that I was going to tell you that I changed my mind after I accepted your job offer? I didn’t because you promised you would be better…do better.” Y/n knew there was some stuff she missed but she was exhausted and wanted to go back. She uncrossed her arms and knew that it was time to do some damage control again.

They stayed in silence for a long time before y/n let out a deep sigh, “I'm sorry, it's just… today was a lot when it really didn’t need to be.” Y/n sat down right next to Carmen, she gave him a few inches of space, he still wasn’t looking at her. 

Carmen did well with praise y/n recalled, “You are a very talented chef and you are great at organizing a kitchen but that's very different from managing a kitchen with people in it.” A silence passed through them and y/n gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Marcus was completely wrong and I don’t fault you for that. I know I would have done the same thing. What kind of idiot worries about donuts when everyone is asking you about cakes?”

“They were good.” Y/n almost missed it but she was glad she didn’t. That meant that she hadn’t completely broken him. 

“I bet they taste even better off the floor.” Y/n chuckled and even if Carmen doesn’t join her, he does pick his head up and look at her. The fact that she was still able to smile after ripping him to shreds was very reminiscent of many people in his life. He knew that she was probably right but he also knew that aspects of her criticism would keep him up at night for years to come

“Was I too much? ” Y/n asked.

“I needed to hear it…” Y/n let them stew in silence. 

“You need to find the root of your issues and fix them.” Y/n offered. 

“Are we good?” Carmen asked. Y/n was tempted to say yes so that they could move on but she had a feeling that was too easy for him. She worked hard today to be a force of stability and support for everyone and saying yes to Carmen’s question only comforted him. Y/n wanted to be comforted for once.

“No.” Carmen’s face betrayed his shock. 

“What can I do to fix it?” Carmen was desperate.

Y/n sighed before closing her eyes. Y/n didn’t respond because she didn’t know how either.  

Carmen felt a heat crawling up his chest, a sense of being trapped. He knew he could go back to Sydney, apologize, and promise to change, and they would be good. He knew that if he checked up on Richie, they would be good. He knew that if he swallowed his pride and prepared family dinner today, he would be in good standing with the rest of his team.

But Carmen was starting to realize that he didn’t really know enough about y/n to make this good. Carmen spent a lot of his time overthinking every minute detail of his life but no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to fix this, nothing seemed right. He couldn’t leave because he knew if he did that would be admitting defeat and that would ruin any friendship he earned with y/n but he couldn’t find the right words.

She couldn’t leave Carmen without it killing him. Her words echoed in his head and he tried to find a clue, something that would give him an opening to learn more about her so she wouldn’t leave the restaurant, leave him. 

“Why did you hate me? Back in New York.” It was a risk but it felt like his only option. Y/n parted her lips a few times, it was like she was formulating a response that wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need her to comfort him, he needed to comfort her.

“Don’t lie, y/n.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Y/n conceded. 

“Don’t bullshit me. The way you looked at me-”. Y/n didn’t know that she was being that obvious.

“You were…I don’t…” Y/n realized she had placed Carmen in an impossible situation by asking him to fix something without providing guidance, as she herself didn't know how to rectify her past mistakes without any guidance.

“I was really unhappy with my job and I thought that if I had someone, if I had you, we could stick together. We used to come and leave work at the same time, we were polite, you seemed like a nice guy. We could have helped each other out, I wanted so badly to have someone to rely on. It was selfish of me to put that pressure on you, I shouldn’t have done that…” That was the diluted version of the story, y/n was willing to take the blame for everything in New York but Carmen didn’t look satisfied, so she continued. 

“I used to hand you your paycheck and you never made eye contact. I didn’t even know your eyes were blue until I had been working there for two months.” Carmen locked his eyes on y/n’s.

“I would try to talk to you and you never responded, I didn’t even know what you sounded like. You called me a few months ago and I didn’t even know it was you because you never said a word to me. I used to think that you thought you were too good to talk to me.” Carmen fiddles with his finders and y/n had to tear her eyes away from his hand so she could focus.

“I worked hard for a while to get close to you but you clearly weren’t interested. I took the hint and backed off. The looks were…immature and stupid but I couldn’t help it…I hated my job and you were an easy target. It's easy to hate something you know nothing about.”

“Do you hate me now?” Carmen whispered. 

“Not anymore.” Y/n responded softly. 

Carmen's shoulders visibly relaxed as he heard Y/n's response. Relief washed over him, mingled with a renewed sense of hope. 

Carmen replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never wanted you to hate me. I just...you would look at me like that and it was one more reason that convinced me that I wasn’t fucking good enough for that job.”

Y/n had the daunting realization that she was one of the reasons why he left the French Laundry, why he left her. She felt extra guilt for yelling at Carmen for fucking up and being selfish when she did the same thing without knowing it. She blinked back some tears, she needed to hear this, even if it hurt. 

“I'm sorry, I was completely-.” 

“I used to be scared of you.” Carmen interrupted. Y/n sat up and raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” she asked in pure bewilderment.

“It felt like you were leagues ahead of me…it's like comparing an ant to…umm…” Carmen was struggling to spit something out, “divinity.” That made y/n widen her eyes and lean forward.

"I never saw you as beneath me, y/n. You were always on a higher plane, like we lived in different fucking planets." Carmen's voice held a touch of reverence, acknowledging the perceived disparity in their positions. 

“You were always so…perfect. I never saw you struggle. Even now, you pick things up fast, people like you, you are great at whatever you do, you never get mad for no reason.”

“People don’t like me and I did get mad for no reason, I just yelled at Sydney before I got to you.”

“We deserved it.”

"It wasn't my place. It's your kitchen, and I shouldn't have gotten involved." Carmen felt sick. She was distancing herself from the kitchen and from him. She was trying to run away and he couldn't let that happen.

“I wouldn’t have anything left if you left.”

“You would have been fine, you would have Sydney.” 

“But you…you…belong here. I can’t do this without you.” Carmen felt like she was slipping from his fingers and he was trying to grasp on to any part of her that he could convince to stay. 

“Give me a reason to stay, Carmen.” Y/n's whispered with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. She wasn't sure what words were left to be spoken, but she knew she had to say his name. Y/n wanted his name to swirl around her tongue, and imprint the feeling of his name leaving her lips. 

Y/n shifted her gaze, positioning herself to face him directly, and her eyes couldn't help but gravitate towards his slightly parted lips. It was clear that he had something to say, and she leaned in, eager to catch every word. In response, Carmen shortened the distance, drawn by the intimate proximity. It felt as if he was about to share a secret with her, a whisper that only they would hear.

With their faces mere inches apart, Carmen's right hand softly landed on the seat beside Y/n's thigh, subtly adjusting their positioning to align their faces. Y/n’s right hand began to rise, caressing his face tenderly. Y/n locked in with his cerulean eyes wondering if she was the only one feeling this. She tested the waters by running her thumb across his lips. They were a bit chapped from biting them all morning. 

Feeling the touch of Y/n's thumb on his lips, Carmen's breath caught in his throat. It was a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Y/n mumbled as she leaned in closer. 

Without breaking eye contact, Carmen reached up, gently cupping Y/n's face with his hand, his touch conveying tenderness and longing.

WIth a hoarse whisper, Carmen pleaded, “Kiss me, y/n.”

Y/n closed the gap and it was a collision of pent-up passion and aching yearning. Y/n's fingers tangled in Carmen's hair, pulling him even closer. Carmen’s thumb stroked y/n’s jaw and he couldn’t believe how soft her skin was. Their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat and intensity of their shared desire. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sensation of each other. Every touch, every gentle nip of their lips, fueled the hunger that had been building between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words. 

Carmen didn’t want to pull away because he wasn’t sure if he would ever get another kiss, he wanted this one to last. He didn’t want to regret 20 years in the future not kissing for a few moments longer. 

Y/n, breathless and in need of a moment to regain composure, pulled away from the kiss. Soft gasps escaped her lips as she tried to steady her racing heart. Carmen, caught in a blissful daze, found himself unable to flutter his eyes open. Carmen remained in a suspended state, savoring the lingering sensation of y/n's touch.

Carmen’s phone buzzed and that wasn’t enough to ground him. He felt like he was floating. If he didn’t move and really focused, he could convince himself that he was still kissing y/n. 

He felt y/n’s hand slid up his apron and trail up his leg. Carmen's breath hitched, his senses heightened, as anticipation swirled in the air. He sat still, nervous to do something like this in public but if y/n wanted him to do something he would do it in a heartbeat. He trusted y/n completely, willing to follow her lead without hesitation.

Finally, Y/n's hand reached its destination, and Carmen's pulse quickened. Y/n pulled something out—his phone. 

Confusion flickered across his features as he watched Y/n's playful expression. Y/n was teasing him, realizing the momentary tension she had caused. Carmen's anxiety gave way to relief, his lips curving into a smile of his own. He completely forgot about the buzzing so she answered the phone for him and brought it closer to his ear. He took the phone from her hands ensuring that their fingers grazed. It was a small, subtle gesture, yet it held the power to ignite sparks of electricity that danced along his skin.

“Yo, cousin. Where the fuck are you?” 

“Why?” Carmen wanted to stay with her for longer but Richie, being a gigantic cockblock, was ruining that for him. 

“You're out past your curfew. Why do you think?” Richie remarked sarcastically. “You still have a job, you can't just sit around in an alley like some kind of fucking sewer rat.” 

“Richie, I swear to fucking good if the kitchen is fine and you dragged me back there for no reason, im gonna stab your other ass cheek.” Carmen waited till Richie started to talk back before hanging up on him, he was being petty. Carmen saw that y/n tucked her lips to prevent a laugh from escaping.

Carmen sat wordlessly, not wanting to leave just yet. Y/n stood up and Carmen followed her. As they stood face to face, Y/n's hands instinctively brushed his hair back into place, fixing any stray strands. With gentle precision, she smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt sleeves and straightened his apron.

Y/n's finger traced lightly across his lips a few times, and a mischievous smirk fell on her lips. "Your lips are going to be a problem," she teased, a twinkle of amusement in their eyes. Carmen's mind momentarily scattered, unable to fully focus.

"Y/n?" Carmen's voice wavered slightly, his thoughts still clouded by desire. 

Y/n, sensing his internal struggle, mustered a playful yet firm resolve. "Go back to the restaurant, I’m still mad at you." she gently nudged him toward the alley exit with an addictive smirk. 

Carmen blinked, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of longing. 

"But when-" Y/n interrupted, her voice filled with anticipation. 

"I'll see you in just a few minutes."

As he busied himself with checking on Richie and apologizing to Sydney, Carmen didn’t miss how y/n slipped inside and walked into the office.

Carmen was still pissed at Richie, who was counting the money in the drawer as they were about to close early to do family dinner.

“Why even bother calling if the place is empty, you dick?” Carmen said in a huff.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you sucking face with your new girlfriend.” Carmen’s jaw went slack.

“Carmy, you're so handsome.” Richie said in a hushed girly tone, mocking y/n’s voice. 

“How-” Carmen started.

“You left and y/n left and you both came back within 5 fucking minutes of each other.”  Carmen parted his lips trying to form a response. 

“You should learn to hide this stuff better. Your lack of girlfriends is catching up to you.”

__

End Notes:

This is purely experimental so I will most likely not write stuff like this in the future, but if people like it, who knows?

We can delude ourselves into thinking that Carmen would be boyfriend material, but he most definitely isn't. I wanted to write something with an unreliable y/n who complains that Carmen has all these anger issues, is domineering, doesn't listen to people, is controlling, is selfish, is extremely unstable, etc. However, she is exactly the same; she just doesn't realize it.

At the end of the day, Carmen meshes well with people who are similar to him, which is why he is close with Sydney and sometimes Richie (their shared love of Michael and The Beef). I wanted to write something where he pursues someone who has similar flaws as him. I guess it's up to you guys to figure out if it's the start of personal growth on both ends or if it's a doomed romance.

Part 2

[seb-reads31]

Hello! Can i request a oneshot of angel dust x touch starved !male reader? More specifically they get together after angel notices that wow this guy is like the first dude in hell that hasn't been trying to seduce me or use my body and is simply interested to get to know me, later when they get to the kissing part reader almost fucks it all up due to him internally panicking extremely hard since he's never thought that someone would ever want to kiss him

Thanks!

Cautions - the dialog is gonna suck, maybe, we'll see lmao, sexual themes I mean come on it's Angel dust 😭, Valentino, THIS IS A MALE READER FIC, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 1, cursing (it's hell), my shit dialog like usual 🤧 (someone give me tips I'm begging you),

Genre - fluff

Type - oneshot (?) I'm gonna be so honest I have no idea how this is gonna come out but I'll do my best 🙏

Comments- omg, dude, angel is my favorite so thank you 🤧🤧 I'm already in love with this ask lol. This is totally inspired by the song from Cinderella I have no shame. I also need to add to my rules lmao. Not because of you, you're doing great, drink some delicious water, eat some good food 😋 (that goes for everyone) but because I don't want anyone asking for specified readers for characters that don't swing that way canonically. It just hit me, and I need to add that lmao

So this is love~

Angel dust always had this facade about him, of his porn star persona. Everyone knows this, and only recently he's gotten out of it. After the war, after Husk breaking him out of his shell, he learned to be less of Angel dust, and more of Anthony.

Obviously, it took more than a few months, but he was feeling like himself, despite having to work for Valentino still. And, you've been helping him, whether you know it or not. Ever since you joined the project to become redeemed before the war, you both had become good friends.

And more recently, boyfriends..

Which shocked everyone to the core. Mostly Angel, to be honest. When he first started talking to you, he had done so with his facade. Using all sorts of innuendos, sneakily asking if you wanted to "get together for a little patty cake" in his room, and general flirting, much like he does did with Husk.

You always got too flustered to respond, but always knew to say no. But, you did try to move past his flirting and ask about him. Not his pornstar persona Angel Dust, no no no, you were asking about Anthony.

And you came to learn that Anthony was the sweetest man ever. While he was still a flirt, he enjoyed baking, romcoms, popsicles (grape flavored specifically), and making pasta! (Don't cancel me I beg of you 🙏)

And you got to know, AND fall in love with these different parts of him. Which includes the parts of him that enjoy non-sexual physical affection. The classic hand holding, hugs, kisses on the cheek or forehead, bunny kisses for sure, which is sending your touch starved ass into overdrive.

He enjoys how flushed your face looks after he gives you a forehead kiss anytime he sees you, or when he randomly grabs your hand to kiss it, looks you dead in the eyes and winks, then goes back to scrolling through his phone as if nothing happened.

However, you have never kissed someone on the lips before. Or had any sort of relationship with this much physical affection that you didn't know you needed, making you crave for more. Specifically, real kisses from Angel.

And you knew Angel would be more than happy to kiss you, but you wanted it to be special, so very special.

But.. Valentino called for Angel. He was having a bad day and needed a "pick me up."

And it just happened to be the exact same day you were going to ask Angel on the date, to ask him to kiss you.

You went looking for your gorgeous spider, finding him on the couch scrolling through his phone like usual. You knew that this was your opportunity to ask him, and off you went!

"Hey Angie, whatcha doing?" You hung on the back of the couch, smiling down at your boyfriend. "Not much, why? You want some attention?~" He teased, slightly patting his lap with one of his upper hands that were behind his head. "Kinda, I was wondering if you wanted to-" RINGGGG, his phone was going off. Angel panicked, seeing that it was his boss. He said a small apology before he jumped off of the couch and running to the corner of the room so you wouldn't hear Valentino's yelling.. as much. He kept nodding, muttering things you couldn't hear, but as soon as the call ended he deflated visibly.

"Shit.. sorry babes, but I gotta go, Val- he uh, needs a little help in the studio!" You knew he was lying, so you wouldn't worry, but you couldn't help it. Not to mention being upset, you had everything planned! "Nah, it's okay Angel, don't worry about it! I'll just.. tell you later."

He nodded then gave you a kiss on the cheek, hurrying out of the hotel to the studio he worked at.

It was the next day when Angel finally got back, hair messy, clothes out of place, and his tired eyes closed as he leaned against the doors, rubbing his face with his upper set of hands, and his lower set wrapped around his waist.

You were coming down from some breakfast, still in your pajamas when you say Angel again. "Angie?" He jumped, having not expected anyone to be up yet as it was Saturday, and Charlie let everyone have a free day from activities these days.

"O-oh! Hey babes, what're you doin up so early? Don't ya normally sleep in on Saturdays?" He was fidgety, nervous. This is how he usually acted after going to the studio, not to mention how much he avoided talking about it. "Yeah, I guess. I just couldn't sleep so I gave up and came down here. Did you want some food? I'm feeling like some bacon and eggs, or maybe biscuits and gravy." He was.. surprised by your nonchalant demeanor. He smiled though, grabbing your hand and kissing it softer than ever before. "Whatever you make sweet cheeks, I'll eat."

Your cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly, but you didn't feel nervous or overly flustered. Instead, you felt confident. So confident that you took the hand Angel wasn't holding and placed it on his round and soft cheek. He was also surprised, but leaned into your hand, whether or not he knew what you were thinking is a mystery. At least, it was until he started leaning down, eyes fluttering shut as he left just enough space between your lips and his to feel them ghost over the others.

You admired him a second longer, then closed your eyes, closing the distance between the two of you.

The kiss was short but sweet, you pulling away first, looking up at Angel with sweet doe eyes. Your first ever kiss was.. amazing, just like when you dreamed of it as a kid.

Angel gave you a dopey smile, then gave you a quick kiss on the nose, pulling away and tugging you towards the kitchen again. "Let's make some food, I'm starving ova' here!"

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas day 3: Oral

Pairing: Tetsuro Kuroo x male reader

This guy

Warnings: oral DUH, oral fixation, kissing, pretty pervy reader, kinda gay ngl, no sex again sorry but not really, I think that's it

Word count: 1134

You were just there by yourself watching the Karasuno and Nekoma Volleyball game alone. Like you showed up to all of the games...alone. The reason one may ask why you show up all the time without not really giving a shit about sports; well because the players are hot. I mean just look at them, getting all sweaty out on the field, muscular arms hitting the ball, large thighs in those tight gym shorts...Oh yeah and the athletics are cool and whatever.

You would fuck all of them if given the chance honestly. You were lost in such thoughts when the last ball was hit, fucking finally. Whenever these two supreme teams go head-to-head it always last for fucking ever.

Anway that is to say that the game was done, and the winner was Karasuno. Everyone got up from their seats and cheered, most were boo's sense it was a home game for Nekoma. You just sat down, catching the attention of a certain black-haired man.

After the men went around, high fiving and saying good jobs, you got up from the bleachers, on your way out because there is no use staying anymore.

On your way out and into the hallway you pulled out a cherry flavored lollipop and popped it right in your mouth. But before you could leave you felt a hand grip your own.

You looked back and saw that it was the 6'2" tall, tall, dark, and handsome man himself, Tetsuro Kuroo. You were in complete awe of the man before and why he was holding your hand when he finally spoke.

"Hey there cutie." He greeted, joy and anticipation apparent in his voice.

"Hi?" you said, confused by the sudden action. "Would you like something?" He takes a while with a cartoonish and dramatized look on his face.

"Umm, you," he said plainly. You start laughing but stop when you see complete seriousness looking back at you.

"You have to be joking, right?" You asked.

"Does it look like I am?" He questions back, though he has a charming smirk you can tell that he is still completely for real. Before you can answer, he pulls the sucker right out of your mouth and into his.

Again, a look of utter shock stains your face. Leaving you speechless.

"If you want it back then follow me." He demands then walks off into some undisclosed situation. You just stand there, looking dumb until you finally get the thought of fucking him in your mind and start to follow.

You run to catch up with him and follow suit. It's practically dead silence until he finds a secluded location, that being the locker room. You both walk in, and he cages you in his arms, your back being against the lockers. It really is like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

After this he puts the sucker out of his mouth and puts it right in front of your face. You graciously accept but while your tongue is going for it, he is doing the same. You both meet in the middle like Lady in the Tramp style. At first you are completely surprised but give in anyway. Your mouths come together to suck on your lollipop. Your tongues are colliding and fighting for the sucker. Eventually he wins and puts it completely in his mouth, but you will not stand for this.

You kiss him, taking the opportunity to have the sucker, your mind now only obsessed with that. Your tongue goes into his mouth so that the sucker is once again shared between the two of you. Your arms going to his muscular chest, looking for anything to grab onto due to the overwhelming passion of this weird lollipop kiss.

But this isn't food kink, so he just lets you have it so that we can all get on to the good part. Now that you have the sucker you don't even care at this point. You threw the sucker on the floor, your attention switching to kissing him. His arms go to grope your ass, giving it a firm grip. This makes you moan, and he takes this chance to run his tongue deeper down your mouth, exploring the whole thing.

He pulls away, noticing that you are running out of breath.

"Could you maybe..." he paused, gesturing towards his lower body. You look confused and then realize what he's gesturing too and automatically get down on your knees.

"Well, that didn't take much convincing." He stated, giving an approving smile.

"I aim to please." You said, a smirk, blush evident on your face.

You pull down his pants and boxers and HOLY FUCK THAT IS THE BIGGEST DICKS YOUVE EVER SEEN, and you've seen a lot, you're gay. It is extremely long with a pretty decent amount of girth and a trimmed yet still noticeable jet-black bush. He laughs at the surprised look you have on.

"Scared?" He questioned, laughing all the while. You shut him up by giving tiny little kitten licks pre cum already developing from the tip. You lick it off and then continue the rest of your tiny licks off the tip, licking the pre cum when it arrives.

"Come on, you can do better than that." He taunted. You ignore him, doing little kisses all throughout his shaft. The little kisses develop into licking up and down the entire rod. This makes his cocky persona falter as he accidently lets out a noticeable groan.

This encourages you to try harder. You finally begin to put the whole thing into your mouth. You start with just the tip but then develop into putting the whole thing.

"Oh fuck yes." He moaned out in ecstasy. You start with slow, controlled movements, struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth AND move. You put your tongue under your shaft which makes him moan awfully loud.

Your head going up and down much faster, the delicious taste of his pre going down your throat. His cock doing the same, almost melting in your mouth and slipping up and down your throat. Tears begin to develop in the corner of your eyes in which he kindly wipes off with his thumb.

"Jesus fucking Christ you're amazing at this." He praised, he means the compliment, yet he still wraps his hand in your hair and starts thrusting his hips into your mouth. Gargled noises come from you due to his rapid thrusts.

After giving in a few more pumps, he finally cums in your mouth, in which you gladly swallow up once he takes his member out of your mouth. His breath was shallow and gasping.

"Thank you, *pant* That was fucking *pant* amazing." He gasped. "Now for the good part."

THE END

[thisisallthehattersfault]

Someone makes a choked, shocked sound. Someone else yelps. It occurs to Ace, somewhere between the howling in his ears and the ache in his lungs and the taste of salt and iron flooding his mouth, that this is probably pretty surprising for his brothers to witness. Maybe even downright upsetting.

The thing is, Ace was wading into the jungles on his own as early as four years old. Dadan taught him how to do basic shit like talk and wipe his ass, but he honestly didn't have a ton of human interaction before meeting Sabo. And the thing about Sabo was that he had more than enough human interaction for the both of them. Ace learned some manners from Makino, but while Sabo was still around, there wasn't really any reason to get... good, at people.

But then Sabo died, and Ace needed to teach himself not only to talk his way out of trouble but also how to be the nice brother, how to treat Luffy with the softness he needed and deserved, how to gentle his hands and his voice and his words. So Ace did that, because he needed to, and it turned out to actually be pretty useful for dealing with people when he wasn't actively looking for a fight. So he stuck with it.

Which is all to say that by the time he'd joined up with Whitebeard, Ace was as close to tame as he had ever been. Almost downright domesticated.

Ace snaps his head to the side, putting some real momentum into it, heaving with all his weight until something tears. When he drops to his feet he springs right back up again, lunging. He spits out his mouthful as he goes, lets his jaw drop open.

The thing is, Ace is a child of the wilderness. He raised himself among that wilderness, and then he raised Luffy among that wilderness. He's a son of the jungle at heart, no matter how good he's gotten at pretending to be a person.

The sea-stone cuffs are chaffing his wrists. He feels tired and heavy, but he doesn't need his fire to be dangerous. Doesn't even need his hands.

Teeth find an artery. Body-hot blood sprays his face as Ace bites down, lock-jawed and snarling. Rears back and rips.

Another marine goes down. Ace spits out a chunk of the man's throat and is already rounding on a third. Notices, with a vague annoyance, that he's gonna need to find a toothpick -- there's a scrap of tendon or something caught in his teeth.

Mmm. Boar. They had pork for dinner, ah, the other night? Three days ago? Something like that, but it doesn't taste the same as wild boar does. And anyway, meat on the Moby is always overcooked. Ace is allowed to eat blue steak, but everybody always yells at him when he tries to steal bites of poultry or Sea King or whatever else while it's still tender and bleeding. This fight is giving Ace a real craving!

Duck. Lunge. Bite down, hard, thunder of a rabbit-quick pulse against his tongue, bulge of tender flesh against his soft palate. Iron and salt in his mouth.

Fear has a flavor. It is bitter and acrid, reminiscent of char, and Ace hadn't liked it much when he was young and still learning how to hunt. It stiffens up the meat, too, makes it kinda chewy. Somewhere along the line, he'd acquired a taste for it, though. He still marks it as a point of pride, his ability to hunt and kill prey without it ever knowing he was there, roasting something that is tender-sweet and gives easily under his teeth -- but the taste of fear isn't so bad either. Sometimes he even prefers it, gets a craving for it. Like wild boar, he hasn't had it in a while. Maybe he'll chase down his own dinner tonight.

Ace rears back. Muscle fibers split, skin stretches until it snaps. A heave, and a body crumples to the ground, gurgling. He gnaws kind of idly on his mouthful while he catches his breath, snorting blood out of his nose and straining his ears. Sounds like the fight's over, then.

Another lump of trachea gets spat into the dirt. Ace turns to face his brothers, counting heads -- good, it looks like nobody got hurt too bad, everybody is still standing! He grins. Ah, they're all pretty pale though, that's a little bit concerning, he hopes nobody's in shock. He learned from Marco that that can happen to anybody, even if they've been in a whole lot of fights.

"Hey!" Ace chirps. "Is everybody okay?" His wrists are killing him. Also, he really needs a shower. He's got blood in his ears, how the hell did that happen? But first he jogs over to where the others are all standing, clumped together, still just. Kinda staring at him.

Okay. Concerning. "You guys alright?" He asks again, lower. "Is anybody hurt? What happened?"

"Ace, man," Deuce says. His voice sounds kind of shaky. He drags a hand through his hair, fucking it up even worse than it already is. "What the fuck was that?"

[kichiyosh1]

Deceitful Youth: "II - Pretty face"

< previous | Masterlist | next >

Scaramouche was never a man that would stoop down as low as to change his own appearance just for another. Running a hand through the synthetic material of what is to appear as real hair, length long and went far below his shoulder blades, he can't help but laugh.

It lay snug on his head and framed his face perfectly. Blazer and school uniform already ironed and worn, though the length of the skirt does bother him. His signature red eyeliner stayed unmoving, little has changed of his face, not that more was needed to be done. A bit of mascara to emphasize his lashes and a swipe of cherry lipstick, the substance slightly graced his tongue, and the taste was more than unwelcomed in his mouth. Was flavor a necessary factor in cosmetics? ridiculous.

After all was said and done, the product of his efforts was staring right at him through his glass mirror. "I almost look like her", his pointer finger stretching a little bit of the skin under his left eye, tongue out to mock the image he was seeing of himself. He did look like her, the genes sure don't lie. He'd even go as far as to say his sister was a carbon copy of that woman's face. Still, he took pride in the fact he looked good in both genders, 'cause had he been born female than they would have been fucked.

The halls were filled with what you'd expect from an all girls school. They lined the hallways like busy bees, buzzing with whatever chatter or gossip that crossed their minds, while others were decent enough to hurry on over to their next classes. This was where he had to make a choice. He still needs to get his schedule from his class adviser, though unnecessary since he's already made sure he was in your class. Despite this, he had absolutely no idea where he was going. His ego would surely take a hit if he got lost on his first day, but same thing if he were to ask for simple directions.

The school had provided him with the details, but all of that was now lost in this maze of disarray. Fortunately(in a way), before one of his vein vessels could burst, something collided into his back, almost knocking the air out of his lungs.

"WATCH-! ahem" he had to clear his throat, he was not going to lose his composure over some stranger that almost had him toppling over. (he needs to keep his voice nice and dainty too, less he wants his real tone to get out)

"Please watch where you're going, it's really crowded so you should be mindful of the people around you." Like he'd give a shit. As long as the people around him minded their own business, then he'd have no reason to be in theirs. Really, the nerve of some people to be so clumsy as to inconvenience others. He'll make sure to remember the face of such an annoying cause.

The moment he turned around, was the moment he wished to cut off all connections with his brain.

"Pretty..." That wasn't his voice, it was yours. You, who had been his first spark of hope in his desolated void of sorrow. His gaze was unfocused, or perhaps he was too focused that his vision started to shake. It took all gears in his puny brain to process the words that fell from your delicate lips. You think he was pretty? him? rather, the 'she' version of the 'him' you used to know? his knuckles had turned white from gripping onto the fabric of his school uniform, unsteady breathes while you only looked at the person in front of you with nothing but fascination.

"Ah, my apologies. I just blurted it out without even thinking!" It didn't take long for you to recover from the shock of bumping into some stranger it seems. "You're not hurt are you?" you took a step closer, inspecting him of any injuries, while he stood there stiff as a board. Lower lip quivering and hair standing on end.

too close!

"I don't see anything, what a relief! Again I'm really sorry for the trouble. Hope to bump into you again some other time— in a, eh, not so harsh way next time hopefully?" You did a little wave, but before you could leave the conversation(which was very onesided) and be on your way, you noticed how 'her' mouth kept opening and closing like that of a fish.

"classroom... lost... schedule..."

His thoughts were in shambles, only able to mumble out what little had been on his mind before you came. Fingers playing with the fold of his skirt, figure shying away from yours. He was all red in the face and he's barely said a proper sentence.

"You're lost? good thing we crossed paths then, I haven't been here for too long either but I already got a good map of the place. I can show you to your room if you'd like?" Before he could even respond you'd already seized his hand, pulling him by the wrist as you continued down the hallway. He didn't even give you the details yet and you already had him following.

look at you, taking on the role of guardian angel

his guardian angel.

From outsiders, the scene itself was just that of an ordinary girl tugging along her lost friend to who knows where, and that much was true! but the details had been blurred.

The plot has yet to cross over that blurred line into something far more greedy and sickening.

important note! when I refer to scara as 'her/she' i usually only do so when in the pov of reader and others that don't know he's a guy<3

____

Taglist! (pls tell me if i forgot to tag you!)

@r0ttenhearts @kazuuhhaaaa @ahseya @reirea-002 @silaswritesthings @scaraapologist @magica-ren @sketcheeee @dan9a-00 @bdf2 @tearsin @randomnl @xinhar @after-determination-tale @valeriele3 @serossidechick @worldhardtibbysoft @darkxrain @cloudycloudd @lazy-sanns @scara-alzwari @silly-ez @featuredtofu @st4rcheese

[bunnakit]

can i have your top 5 feral boys AND old mans you meet this year?

lkjlakjglk YOU KNOW ME SO WELL - so i just started watching BL in june??? so pretty much everything is new to me, sorry if some of these are old news to ya'll. idk if you meant for me to pick 5 of each but that's absolutely what i'm gonna do.

"OLD MEN" BRACKET 🌸 (most are my age or younger)

hoooooly shit papang in general. houghghhh i want to lick the blood off his teeth. i want to raise anarchist young adults together. i want to-- well. let's not bring beam into this, maybe. regardless, old man of all time.

what right does this old man have??? hello??? you just go around LOOKING LIKE THAT? all the time? i want to run a humble restaurant together. i'd be his ride or die.

i had to go make a gif special for him bc no one loves akk the way i do apparently. i wanna fuck that old man - and yeah, you can add that one to the counter. obsessed with him, i wanna see him get a romance of his own, i want to know everything about him. (and this is saying something bc i hate cops, but The Sign boys get a pass - for now.)

i know chan has pretty privilege ok? i KNOW. i do not care. i love him, i want to know everything about him, i've started several fics about him, he was my first absolute brainrot in BL.

i understand what chen yi was about and once again i am asking sooo so nicely for a prequel about his and ming lei's past and relationship. i would love if it was a parallel to chen yi and ai di.

FERAL BOYS BRACKET 🌸

this comes as a shock to absolutely no one. ai di is my specialist boy. i adore him so much, i want to hang out with him so bad. i wanna be best friends. i can't wait for my rainbow sweater to get here.

jack and his boobs are everything. he really stole the show for me (as all side romances tend to.) this is another show i could use a spin off or sequel of just them, give me everything, i love them - jack especially. give me jack's whole past, his pov up to meeting chao lian.

pisaeng counts, don't @ me. he was so feral in his own way for kali. absolutely unhinged behavior. wingmanning your own crush? winking and finger gunning at him on day one? PINING FOR HIM FOR YEARS? pisaeng something is deeply wrong with you and i love you for it.

tan is the epitome of "you're delicious as a concept, but as a real person i worry for you" - ESPECIALLY after reading the novel. i'm still laughing that according to personalities database we are the same personality. his flavor of feral is just soooo so sexy.

babygirl there is something so very wrong with you. this bad boy can fit so much repressed trauma in it. i think he should be allowed to bite people for fun. every fanfic i read exploring black's mental state makes me love him more and more. (also he's so difficult to write, i respect fanfic authors that explore black's pov so much)

ask me my top 5 anything BL!

[onestopfanficshop]

dating carmy berzatto

warnings: language

author’s note: literally just a mish-mash of random headcanons + little phrases i think this man would say/do ; if my feeble brain allows i’ll make a part 2 🤷🏾‍♀️

"honey, that knife is really fuckin' sharp. be careful, yeah?"

never even considered or cared about quitting smoking until he met you. after your first date he went to his local bodega and started buying packs of nicotine patches and gum

"shit. are we outta onions?"

so we all know that carmy would usually hate it when people bug him while he's in the zone and he's cooking, right? okay but picture this. you're over at his place. he's making pasta sauce and he just looks so peaceful and before you even know what you're doing you walk over and wrap your arms from behind him and you kinda just rest your head against him. he's taken aback at first. yes you two started dating but... physical touch? he kinda tenses up a little.

"is this okay?' you ask cautiously.

a beat. "yeah... it's great," he says with a little smile, turning back to look at you. now he can't cook at home without you hugging him :,)

you once tried to convince him to let you sit on his head and tug on his hair while he was cooking

"like the rat in ratatouille!" you had said excitedly. he looked lost. "you know... the movie? ratatouille? isn't that... like... required reading for chefs?"

apparently he had never even seen it which made you shed a tear for his childhood

of course you had made him watch it with you that very night. he mumbled something about health codes and about how anton ego's assholery reminded him of his old boss but he thought the movie was pretty cute. a rat that could cook? he would have to remember to text richie later that he had found a biopic that was based on his life story

"soooo?" you said expectantly when the credits started rolling. again, he looked lost. "will you let me be the rat?" you say with feigned seriousness.

"absolutely not."

he drinks his coffee black. when i say black i mean black black. only occasionally does he get it with two sugars if he really feels like it. when he tried that shaken oatmilk espresso brown sugar or something (he could never remember the name) that you always get from starbucks, the sweetness of it had him shocked

"honey, this is like... 5% coffee and 95% milk ಠ_ಠ"

you two have made it a tradition where you'll go over to his place and dust off one of his dozens of cookbooks, flip to a random page, and make what's on it. sometimes it comes out absolutely awful, but you've found some real gems, too. you two's favorite ravioli recipe had come from a weathered cookbook that was at the bottom of one of his piles

farmers market dates are a given

he likes to knock on coconuts to see if they’re “ready” (michael taught him this)

on the rare occasion he drinks, he goes for white wine. the drier, the better.

i know i said he's not big into physical touch, but i'd like to think that if he drank enough of that aforementioned wine, he would become super touchy. drunk carmy (and sleepy carmy) just would not be able to keeps his hands off you (and it's kinda hot)

“does this need more salt, hon?”

i feel like this man either has a shit ton of aprons at home or he has only one that he has used to absolute death; no in between

his favorite candy is any flavor salt water taffy (except banana) or super dark chocolate (i’m talking 70% cacao content or more) with carmel inside

i feel like his receiving love language would be words of affirmation. he loves being assured, even if he doesn't quite believe you. he's a sucker for a good old-fashioned "i'm proud of you". in terms of giving, his love language is definitely acts of service. you have some dry cleaning ready? no problem he'll pick it up for you on the way back from work. you have a stomachache? don't worry, his mom has a recipe for that and he'll whip it right up for you. had a bad day at work? he's already on his way to get you your favorite thai food, even if it's out of his way. this man lives to please you :,)

[gunkreads]

WOW (breathe)

WOW (breathe)

WOW (breathe)

Look, I saw it coming from about the halfway point. It was written on the walls and floor, and even little hints on the ceiling sometimes. Fuck, dude, it's written on the cover of the damn book. (spoilers below) GO READ IT. HARD RECOMMEND.

But a perfectly-executed twist has values besides shock to carry it.

The beauty of the twist at the end of The Traitor Baru Cormorant is the steadiness with which Dickinson shifts the narration itself to make you question whether you could have ever believed Baru was really with the rebels. Around the midpoint of the Haraerod summit, Baru's internal monologue--i.e. the narration--begins to betray small hints that she's trying to re-distance herself from the Aurdwynni. From there on, Dickinson makes these

HANG ON I JUST LOOKED HIM UP, HE WAS A WRITER FOR

THE TAKEN FUCKING KING??????

okay we're back

AND FORSAKEN????????????? TAIN HU = SJUR EIDO CONFIRMED??????????

okay back for real.

makes these little "slip-up" hints appear constantly and with increasing frequency throughout the latter half of the story. By the time they're gathered before the battle, Baru is all but admitting to herself that she's trying to end the dukes. Dickinson plays with the fact that his writing is so deliciously tight and refined that any teeny little "misplaced" word sticks out like a gunshot in a church.

I love it, OK? I love when authors know how good they are and play chess games in which their own mastery is the piece that lands the checkmate.

But really, once I had a little chat about this book (thanks @pillowfriendly) and established that it wasn't meant to be a mind-bending political drama, I picked it up and blasted through the latter half. So it was also a teaching book! I now have a better idea of how to assess what a book is trying to be when I start it.

Also, what the hell is up with people comparing this series to The Locked Tomb? What's the similarity there? I'm asking because The Masquerade can be compared much more directly to another series that infected me with a nearly identical flavor of brainworm: Red Rising.

Like... come on, man. I could draw a Venn diagram of plot points between the first Red Rising book and The Traitor and you'd have to break out a microscope to find the places they don't overlap.

Probably ice fucking cold take: Seth Dickinson's first book is about two miles better than Pierce Brown's. Red Rising (the book) takes a HOT sec to get off the ground and is just so incredibly derivative in its structure that I have a hard time putting it up on the pedestal that Dickinson has just effortlessly launched himself atop. I love RR in a deep, unkillable type of way, but the first book isn't... all that. I'm not unpacking that shit right now.

Anyway, yeah... The Traitor Baru Cormorant is an all-timer for sure. Elicited a lot of soft "oh...."s from me, which is about twice as much as I ever ask for.

[alligatorjesie]

Hey that's alright you can block me as much as you like but it wont change anything man. You said some shit things so I'm going to say some shit things to you.

You know what that's fine we can just repost that whole comment so people can see what a shitass you are @blessyouhawkeye

Hey real quick you do realize that reylo is just a really vanilla ass enemies-to-lovers ship if you have a problem with it well good luck man this shit is literally everywhere in media.

Almost like it's a popular trope. Have you never watched a rom com? Woof. I got some news for you brosph.

but you know what since we're on the tangent of 'weird people' in fandoms let's talk about that for a moment.

You wanna know what's weird? There's a lot of finnreys in the reblogs acting positively feral about their ship not being canon

(which idk I watched TRoS that was pretty open ended if your still mad about reylo by the end of that movie that shits on you)

and upset they don't have book deals like the reylos but IDK man maybe the reason finnreys ain't got book deals is because they spend all their time online bitching about how their ship got shafted instead of writing that fucking fanfiction.

You know when the reylos got shafted with the shit show that was EP9 instead of spending the next 3 years complaining they just trucked along in their own fucking sandbox completing their own fucking projects for their own fucking friends.

Fuck Disney we'll make our own reylo with blackjack and hookers and sex scenes.

You mean to tell us you've had more problems with reylos who were just excited to see the story concepts they predicted from The Force Awakens coming true in The Last Jedi and making positive content to reflect that joy compared to the actual nazis on YouTube who flood the platforms with 3 hour long hate videos over how Bree Larson is somehow personally responsible for their dicks falling off?

You remember that one time ethan van sciver said he wanted to kill Chinese people? He's a really popular star wars/comic book YouTuber and he's way more problematic than anyone I've ever met in the reylo fandom.

And guess what he also hates reylo what a shock!

You wanna talk about some unhinged weird behavior allow me to direct you at a rabid finnrey who has told me graphically to kill myself at least 5 times now for the sin of enjoying the wrong part of star wars according to them.

That shits fucking unhinged

Here's some of those death threats these are 100% real by the way:

Obviously Death Threat Warning some of these are quite gnarly.

This user still has an active account.

I've reported them several times but I sometimes feel like the only thing that will get you banned on this hellsite is being trans I swear to fucking god.

This user has spent over 7 years shit posting hate directly into the reylo fandom's tag instead of doing literally anything else to make their own fandom more enjoyable for themselves.

That's weird shit.

What has been hellish is being in this fandom for over 9 years and dealing with the amount of uncalled for vitriol at this very fucking plain flavor baby's first enemies-to-lovers ship.

I only started keeping track of the death threats back in September 2022

It's not even been a full 2 years and I'm nearing 1000.

This is the header for my Tumblr. This is a real number by the way I have every death threat I've gotten since starting this documented on my computer.

It's actually 955 because thepettycunt here just sent me a new death threat so now I gotta update the banner.

fun!

One day I'll make a master post.

Today is not that day.

But let's be very honest here the real number of death threats I've personally gotten are well into multiple thousands across multiple platforms over 9 years.

Just for enjoying reylo.

And I'm a furry and have been since the 90s. I'm use to being told to kill myself from strangers on the internet so color me confused when I join this really basic bitch of a fandom ship only to find the hate towards it somehow fucking worse.

That's some fucking weird unhinged shit.

I know you made this shit post just to be a shit poster so don't take this too personally I'm sure at this point you already think I'm unhinged and rightfully so

maybe I am

but after the 100th death threat I just stopped giving a fuck so you'll just have to forgive me but it's real buck ass wild to be called 'weird' when I've never sent death threats to people over fictional ships and none of my reylo friends have done that shit either but I am almost 99% sure if you look though the history of any single person who reblogged this post bitching about reylo you'll find they have a history of doing that shit.

You can pick any one. Odds are they have anti reylo posts going years back and at worst some of them have straight up told people in this fandom to kill themselves.

I can look through YOUR history OP and see You're a huge pile of shit towards reylos!

Go on pick one out at random and have a go. It's a fun horrible way to spend a afternoon.

And before anyone brings it up because people who hate reylo always do;

'what about that one time reylos harassed John Boye-'

a group of women telling John Boyega the things he's saying are sexist towards his female coworker who had already been harassed off social media a few years prior and asking him to do better isn't the harassment you think it is.

You can find that 'reaction' video John made to the reylos on google and watch it yourself. No one is being racist but they are all asking him to stop making sex jokes on his female coworkers behalf and expressing disappointment in him. In fact he even had to reused quite a few of the quotes because I think about halfway through making the video he realized he just didn't have that much material and the things people were saying were pretty fucking mild.

And I'm not sorry. Asking a adult man to hold himself accountable for the shit he says is not on the same level as the far fucking worse shit the over arching star wars fandom has done well before reylo was even a twinkle in anyone's eye

Lastly one more thing and I'm done I swear and I'm going to apologize in advance because I'm gonna sound really spicy and I guess I kinda am but not in a mean way more in a really fucking confused way

but what the fuck do you mean jenny nicholsons reylo videos are unhinged?

They're the fucking same as the rest of her videos.

Is there something less unhinged about a nearly 4 hour long video about a failed fantasy RPG theme park over a 1 hour long video about how star wars episode 9 was absolute dogshit?

Jenny makes cringe videos about cringe shit. That's her brand.

She's voiced her enjoyment of reylo very early on... I think back in The Force Awakens days? So why are you surprised she would talk about the subject at length in detail? She bought a stuffed porg larger than herself and documented collecting it on video for her channel.

Yeah man she probably likes reylo.

Most people who like TLJ do.

What... what the fuck do you mean her reylo videos specific are unhinged?

I'm sorry but if known racist and sexist YouTuber doomcock can spend 6 hours complaining about TLJ because Rey don't make his dick hard like Luke Skywalker does and he's going to make his refusal to reflect on that issue our fucking problem I don't think Jenny is unhinged for complaining about the inarguably bad movie that was the rise of skywalker for less time than the movie's total runtime.

I'm not even mad I'm just really confused by your statement.

[itookyoudown]

for the ask game: top 5 justified episodes?

oh lordy this is so hard to choose. i'm not answering this with any thoughtfulness just going with gut instinct.

5: Full Commitment, season 2. this is my guilty pleasure and comfort episode because of how western it feels and how much tim gutterson we get :)

we even get raylan talking to dan!! i just love how all the pieces of the plot and characters come together in this episode. this also sets up and kicks off the finale of Bloody Harlan. really the last three episodes of this season feel like a mini movie to me, they all flow together brilliantly.

4: The Promise, season 6. this isn't my favorite season or even my favorite season finale, but it's one of my favorite episodes because of how bittersweet it is. it was the perfect wrap-up for a perfect show and the final scene is my favorite final scene in any show i've ever watched.

some characters survive, but nobody really wins and i love that. it feels like such a real true to life ending.

3: The Hunt, season 6. the episode that cinched boyd's characterization and showed us two flavors of domesticity horror (raylan and winona with willa's heart murmur reveal and trying to navigate co-parenting along with raylan's lackluster fathering VS boyd's abduction, terrorization, and assault of ava).

this is the most thriller-esque episode of justified to me and truly does verge into lowkey horror at some points. it shocked and numbed me the first time i watched it and the reality didn't really click until the second rewatch and by the third time it truly sunk in.

the fact boyd became the type of man his father and his brother were...utterly devastating and really changed my perspective on his character. and he chose it, he plotted it and organized it in a cold fashion. it's heartbreaking and at first you can't believe it but upon rewatches of the show it revealed to me that yeah...yeah. boyd was always capable of this and it's no surprise this is where he and ava ended up.

outlaw king and queen they never were and never would have been.

this episode is also fascinating because you can see critic response to it as a disturbing time capsule. look at reviews of this episode back when the show was airing...be prepared to be sickened by how often boyd assaulting ava is framed as "making love" or a reunification/rekindling of their relationship 🙃

this episode is always difficult for me to rewatch, but i still love it.

on a lighter note, i also delight in raylan being a fail dad and with city primeval fresh in my mind i love how it really does confirm his work over family priority from the get-go lol.

2: Outlaw, season 4. in general this is a solid af episode of justified in the best season of the show, but it ranks so high in my mind because it's the culmination of Arlo and Rayan's relationship. look, the truth is abuse is so rarely accurately portrayed in media. usually, it's revenge fantasy or feel-good simplification that reduces things down to evil monsters and pure perfect victims. and i get why that happens, i get it, most people find it healing and those stories do need to exist i'm not knocking them.

but justified has a complex and multilayered way of dealing with abusive relationships (they did it with boyd and ava too) that actually digs into how complicated and messy and painful they truly are.

the fact we get to see Raylan grieve Arlo in such an understated but devasting way...holy shit. one of the best moments in the show imo. because it doesn't matter if you hate your parent and they were shitty and abusive. you still loved them. you still love who they were in-between the abuse and maybe you don't grieve the person they were but you grieve what could have been and what you never had with them.

1: Decoy, season 4: all-time best episode of justified and top-tier episode of television everywhere. the episode is really the pinnacle of justified's genre (neo western). e v e r y t h i n g about this episode honors justified's storylines and honors characterization. heart and soul and brain all in one go.

it respects the lawmen and the outlaws in portrayal. the writing is tight, the dialogue is outstanding, and it comes with one of justified's most iconic and thematic shots (the stairwell scene).

[frosty-the-killer-doll]

What are your karamel headcanons/opinions? I love your blog btw

thank you, it's so beautiful here

now just because i do honestly ship karamel, that doesn't mean i think their canonical relationship was without its toxicity. mon-el had a running habit of talking over kara, lying to her, deciding things about them by himself, generally disrespecting her. i do believe he loved her, honestly, but i also know that when he started loving her, he was a douchebag. and that's canon.

kara was his first real relationship. kara was the first girl he loved, the first girl that was stronger than him, the first girl that he didn't have any power over as her prince. i think a lot of mon-el's trouble with respecting her comes from that; he's a prince of a tyrant-led planet, his entire life he's had things handed to him and suffered no consequences to his actions. he doesn't know what a real relationship looks like, he's not used to someone having complete equal say with him.

he's a dick. he's not completely sure how to not be a dick. he has never been in a situation where he suffers for being a dick. mon-el is like if toh's the collector character was an adult dudebro. so throughout all of s2, he is trying to learn to better himself, with varying success. fratboy rehabilitation. he's still not... good for kara, though. i do not think their s2 dynamic would have been sustainable in the long run

but then, s3. mon-el is, what, almost 10 years older? by then, he's a better man. he's good for the one he loves, even if that woman isn't kara but rather imra. and imra has kara to thank for mon-el not being shit. mon-el being married is as much of a shock to kara's system as is him being, like, completely fine. respectful. friendly. articulate, communicative, generous. he's become a leader and a husband. what the fuck.

i love to ship this version of them. the old version was interesting for angst sake and how fucked kara's perception could get, as toxic relationships often provide, but this flavor of karamel? it's syrup-y sweet. kara has equal footing and mon-el doesn't think to change that, not even subconsciously. it's the bare minimum, maybe, but. it's better.

and i think the dynamic would change even more. kara becomes... feisty with him. playful and smug. they like fucking with each other, in a healthy way this go around, play-fighting like superpowered kittens. this is such a fucking nerd comparison to make but if you've read pettigrace's arrowverse college groupchat au, it's like when coldflash (known as coldbar in their au) reconcile after their big blowout fight. i've delved into this headcanon change in their dynamic in basically all my karamel fics, tehe

OKAY EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS HC LIST TIME

in the polycule au, he still left in the s3 finale, but when mon-el comes back to leave brainy and take winn, he ends up staying in the normie century. in that time, imra has taken up the official leadership role in the legion. the only change to them going back in the s3 finale is that they took psi with them, per imra's request. psi has then become imra's budding girlfriend and co-leader, so that's why mon-el feels safe leaving the 31st century this go around

when they get back together, iris suggests couple's therapy with dr finkel like caitlin once did for her, and it goes well!

kara once told him he showed valor after a crime-fight, back before the future shit. that's why mon-el chooses it as his superhero code name

remember when he spent forever teaching her cape tricks? okay now imagine the kink potential of that

did you know monel is the name of a group of nickel alloys? kara gets him an electric bass made with monel strings as a lil gift, calling it his mini-me

when mon-el learns that kara is like, technically in her 50s thanks to phantom zone fuckery, he starts hiding grandma candies in all her pockets. and her plants. and her cushions. she's finding pieces of butterscotch in her dresser. mon-el thinks he's hilarious

on that note, kara dares him to do the fluffy bunny challenge with the candies. if he loses, he no longer hides candy everywhere. he was so sure of himself. he was wrong

mon-el's her first alien boyfriend, right? so she doesn't actually need to be scared of his fragility. again, the kink potential

kara made him watch her fav musicals, he has joined barry allen and ray palmer in a love for singin' in the rain

mon-el isn't big on bands like nsync like kara is, yknow like, teen/dance pop? he does like pop, but prefers alt pop and pop punk. she introduces him to kpop in the hopes of converting him, and she's successful, but he also came out of it with a love for what the band babymetal call kawaii metal after being recommended jpop from all the kpop he was listening to. what have you done, kara.

considering we all know kara is a romcom boygirlie, mon-el found an insane subgenre that he fucking adores: zomromcoms!! romantic comedies with zombies!! disney even has a zomromcom musical trilogy and he annoys kara about it on the daily. warm bodies is one of his fav movies. kara agrees to listen to his disney zombies headcanons if he hears out her game of thrones theories

okay that's all i got rn, goodbye forever 🫡

[ozimagines]

dating peter schibetta would include please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Oh for sure! Peter was my first Oz crush! He was a little vitellone but he didn’t deserve the shit he got.

TW!! For everything that happened to this boy.

Dating Peter Schibetta Would Include….

Doesn’t believe in love at first sight… or second sight… or love in general at some point.💔

He knows his parents loved each other, and that’s most of the reason he got married. He just wanted to be loved like that.

If societal norms are anything to go on, I’m betting Peter’s wife left him after finding out about his assault. Said it made him “less of a man” which hurt about as much as anything could, even if he wasn’t wholly shocked by her reaction.

Mama’s boy ™️

His mother loved him. Deeply and truly. It made Peter a little soft if he’s honest. When his mother’s no longer there to clean up his messes, he spirals. He’s convinced he can do anything.

After Adebisi, not so much.

After Schillinger and the others, he’s convinced he’s capable of nothing.

He spends most of his days alone, or surrounded by the other Italians, saying nothing

Which is pretty much alone as far as he’s concerned

He used to be just one of the guys from the neighborhood… now he’s not sure who he is. 💔

When he meets you, nothing changes, he doesn’t suddenly believe in love again.

You’re nice to him. Like genuinely nice. He thinks that makes you stupid, but he certainly won’t be the one to tell you that.

He’s hostile at first. Who wouldn’t be after Oz? (35 years for money laundering? The math ain’t mathin’)

He’s very much a pretty boy, so he catches you staring once or twice

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”😠

“No, it’s just that you’re… no, you’re right, I’m sorry.”🥺

“…don’t… don’t worry about it.”😳

But it’s the little things you do that make him unable to take his eyes off of you.

He starts noticing the way you tuck your hair out of your eyes when you’re reading, not noting it as anything important but whenever you do it, he finds his eyes drawn upwards.

He knows about your favorite pen with all the bite marks at the end, from where you chewed nervously during tests. When he sees that pen anywhere, he puts it somewhere safe for you.

Some of the guys take their dates to get gelato, and you two are single and get paired up automatically. You like the stracciatella flavor with strawberries on top… not unlike his mother. The realization makes him blush into his pistachio flavored one.

He starts to notice you by your absences, noting things in conversation or on TV that you’d like and remembering to tell you about them. ☺️

His “friends” start joshing him because he likes you, which he vehemently denies. It’s not that he dislikes you, it’s that Peter’s made a pact with himself that he’s going to die alone, and you’re in the way of that.

“C’mon, kid.” Chucky teases almost meanly, “you got a little crush on him/her/them.”🫣🫣🫣

You’re kind, funny, beautiful to Peter, and you represent everything he could have been, and he hates you a little for it.

One night you text Peter all the details about your day. He doesn’t respond. You ask how his day was. Nothing but a read receipt. You ask if he needs someone right now. Nothing.

So you show up at his door with a dollar store movie you’d never seen and some chocolates.

He’s upset at first.

“Treating me like a bitch on her period.”😡

When you start to apologize and say it’s stupid he softens.

“No… thank you, I mean. Really. It’s just been… it’s just been a day.”

You chill out in his apartment -which is remarkably clean for a bachelor pad- and giggle on his couch as you watch the 300.

You make jokes to make Peter laugh as you watch. His steely demeanor starts to crack, and after a joke about one of the men dying “without ever knowing women’s touch” (“they said “woman’s touch” Peter, not virgin. Remember that.”) his face breaks into the prettiest smile you’d ever seen from him… because it’s real this time.

The real surprise comes when Peter invites you out one night. He’s very clear it’s not a date and “just wants to pay you back”.

He offers to have you over and make dinner. He reiterates it’ll be nothing fancy.

When you come over he has aperitivi ready for you. An limoncello spritz, some fresh mozzarella he got from the cheese maker himself and some fresh tomatoes drizzled in olive oil and sea salt.

You offer to help in the kitchen, but he refuses, insisting you’re his guest😊

You sit by the kitchen table that looks into the kitchen, watching him work. The first course is pasta pomodoro. Just freshly sliced tomatoes, basil from the garden, and nice semolina and egg yolk pasta.

You’re full and thanking him, to his confusion, and he tells you that was just il primo piatto.🍝

He brings out some beef shoulder cooked ‘genovese’, which he boils down to using “a fuck ton of onions”.

After dinner, he takes your plates and refills your glass with wine.

Peter brings out some fruit he sliced and some pastries he got at “the Moluzzo’s”, and hands you a shot of digestive liquor.

You’re stuffed and a little drunk, sitting on his couch with yet another glass of wine.

He turns on the tv for you as he cleans and you search through channels.

You find “the Sons of Katie Elder” on, and remembering it was a John Wayne film (to say nothing of Dean Martin), you select it and begin to watch.

You’re entranced in the movie when you notice Peter’s standing over your shoulder, drying a dish, mouthing along with John Wayne.

You ask if he’s seen this movie before, and he admits it was a favorite of his father.

You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

He joins you on the couch and laughs through your John Wayne impression.

By the end of the film you both are laughing so much you’re in tears.

The laughter dies down a little and a silence fills the air.

“Thanks. For… like, being there, I mean. I know I’m out of the family and everything, but… I don’t know. It was nice to be thought of.”🙃

You assure him that you’re not doing anything special, you just like him and want good things for him.

“Yeah, well, you’re the only one.”

“People will love you as much as you let them, Peter, please give us a chance to love you-“

His lips are on yours. It’s soft and gentle, no real push. He doesn’t grab you. He doesn’t stick his tongue in your mouth. He just kisses you on the lips.

You’re not sure what to say. Neither is he. You kiss back but he doesn’t want to talk after that.

“I didn’t mean to… it’s not why I invited you… you should probably go.”

You’re not sure how to interpret anything he’s done.

He doesn’t call you for a week. You assume he needs space so you give it to him.

About a week in Dino and Joey come up to you. You’re friendly with Joey and pleasant with Dino but they don’t look friendly today.

“Listen, kid, you’ve been fucking with his head, and he doesn’t need that right now. Not after taking it up the ass twice.”

“After… what?”

You’re not an idiot. You know he was in prison and what that implies.

You rush to his house, ringing the doorbell and banging on the door.

“PETER COME OUT HERE! I SWEAR TO GOD-“

He opens the door slowly, as if he was standing in the other side listening to everything.

“Dino talked to me today.”

He knows what that means. His eyes hit the ground and he goes to close the door.

“I don’t need your charity-“

You stop the door and slam your hands on the railing to his steps.

“Goddamnit, Peter, let me love you.”❤️

He stops for a second. He’s not sure what to say.

“I need a drink.” He turns to go inside, before adding, “join me?”

You come inside and sit on his couch as he fixes you two heavily poured grappas. His has about twice as much as yours.

He sits on the couch and drinks silently for a moment.

“Look, I… in Oz… can we not tonight? I mean, I know we have to talk about this at some point… but… not tonight. Please.”

You agree, telling him you’ll talk about whatever he wants.

He tells you when he was a kid, he wanted to be an actor. Like Pacino or Stallone. He tried drama club before his pop told him it was for ‘fags’.

He loves 1960s Italian movies. Said Marcello Mastroianni was his idol. He even tried growing a mustache for a week. It was a pathetic attempt.

You giggle and ask him to continue.

He talks to you all night, into the early morning. You both fall asleep on the couch, sitting up, holding hands.

You two are together now, but Peter takes a minute to put a label on it.

“This is Y/N, my… uh… yeah.”😂

It doesn’t bother you. You think it’s cute.

You’re calling him your boyfriend before he calls you his girlfriend/boyfriend/partner.

He sits you down a week and a half into dating and has an uncomfortable conversation.

“So… listen… I want… you’re so beautiful… I just… I can’t.”

“We don’t have to have sex right now, Peter.”🙂

After the rapes, sex is very difficult for him.

You eventually do, working your way there.

You start just kissing, then necking, and then you offer to give him a bj that he refuses… but accepts a week later. You make it clear it’s not a 1:1 ratio and that he doesn’t have to reciprocate…

But after a few too many one night -and Peter is a SLOPPY drunk- he’s laying on you on the couch, kissing you all over, giggling at how beautiful you are. You don’t do anything he might regret, but the next day he says he’s ready to give it a shot.

Makes love. When he’s ready, he lays you down on satin sheets, undresses a little embarrassedly, insists the lights are off and after accidentally crushing your foot in the dark, settles for a scarf over the lamp.

His eyes are closed at first, and you can tell this is hard for him, but a few encouraging kisses and gentle touches and Peter’s able to differentiate between sexual assault and sex as a result of love and care.

His struggles aren’t over, but he’s healing and you’re helping him get there. ❤️‍🩹

Kisses like a clumsy romantic boy, not a self assured man, but he reminds you of the boy that made you blush so much in high school, because for his lack of technique there was an abundance of care.

He still likes to hold your hand or have an arm around you in public. You may have to initiate or wait for him to unconsciously reach for your hand. 🤝

“Buongiorno principessa/principe/pincipx!”

^he greets you like a man in one of his favorite movies (La Vita È Bella)

You start to see him smile more often. He can be goofy when he feels like it.

Can’t really fall asleep unless he’s spooning you… (or you spooning him but he swears you to secrecy on that.)

You enter into domestic life fairly fast and Peter couldn’t be happier.

That’s all he’s ever wanted; just to have someone there.

When you guys get chocolates, you leave him the dark chocolate and the coconut, because you know those are his favorites.🍫

He does the dishes and you dry, listening to music in the kitchen. 🍽️

You leave his slippers by the door and he lays your makeup out for you in the morning. 💄

Thinks TikTok is stupid but downloads it at your insistence. (Prefers Tumblr😂)

He cooks for you… a lot. It helps him unwind after a long day and he enjoys being bossy in the kitchen.

“Knead the dough for about ten minutes then leave it and stir the sauce so it doesn’t stick… I love you.”😘

That’s actually the first time he says I love you. It’s random. It just slips out while he’s laughing and bossing you around.

He stops afterwards. Not sure if he should address it or pretend he never said it.

You just giggle and say nothing but a vocal “yes, Chef” and move on.

As you’re cuddling that night, and you’re sure he’s not asleep yet but his eyes are closed, you whisper “I love you too.” Into his ear.

You know he’s not asleep because you can see him smiling.

When he proposes to you, he’s not sure if he should make it big or small. He went big with the his ex wife but that’s because that was what was expected of him.

He plans a date; the perfect date.

None of it goes well. 😅

He picks up an expensive wine and makes a cheese board. He wears an expensive Versace suit. He plans a picnic… and it rains. 🌧️

He tries to pivot and take you to a nice restaurant but it’s too late notice and he doesn’t have his father’s power anymore. It’s emasculating.

He takes you to his place, you wearing his coat because you’re shivering and soaking wet. The label is peeling off the bottle of wine. The crackers and bread are soggy. His suit is ruined.

The real kicker comes when he tries to unlock the door quickly to get you two out of the rain and the straps on the picnic basket snap.

“Fuck.”

You help him pick up the contents of the basket, both of you on your hands and knees. You grab at salami and oranges until your hand hits a small box.

Only one thing could be in there.

Your eyes race to Peter, whose already staring at you red faced.

“I’m sorry… I tried. I really did-“

You cut him off with a kiss in the rain like one of those old Italian movies, grabbing at the wrinkles on his soaked button up, hands moving to his curly black hair. You stop suddenly.

“Wait… we have to get the Madonna’s blessing.” You put your hands together, close your eyes, and shout at the sky: “Maria! La chiava, per favore!”

He laughs the most boisterous laugh you’ve ever heard out of him and kisses you again.

It’s his grandmother’s ring from the old country. He asked his ex wife for it back and you know how much that must have pained him. ✨ 💍 ✨

After you two are bathed and eat an ordered out pizza, watching La Vita È Bella for the hundredth time, just at the Maria La Chiava scene, he turns to you.

“You never said yes.”

“C’mere, dummy.” You pull him into you, kiss the side of his head, and whisper into his ear. “Yes, Peter, always yes.”🥰

Bonus: He’s ashamed of this. Possibly more than anything… but he loves 2 Broke Girls😂😂 Reminds him of his summer working in a local diner. Max is essentially all the things he wanted to say but didn’t have the balls to. He lives vicariously through her.

[mosylufanfic]

5 Things That Remind Cassian He's Human (and one thing that makes him wish he wasn't)

Hi hello is time for more Sad Andor Reaction Fic? Yes I think yes

Spoilers for 1x11 I guess

5 Things That Remind Cassian He's Human (and one thing that makes him wish he wasn't) 

1. Blankets

The Narkinian says to them, "You look like shit, humans. Six hours to Niamos. Get some sleep." And he tosses them a couple of blankets.

For a moment Cassian doesn't know what to do with his. It hasn't been that long, but for all that time, sleep has been a matter of lying down on a hard bench and closing his eyes.

"Kriff," Melshi mumbles, spreading the blanket over himself, pulling his ragged and filthy feet under its protection. "Kriff."

He curls into one of the tattered seats in the back of the quadjump, but just before he shuts his eyes, Cassian sees tears in them. 

The blanket smells like old fish and it's riddled with holes, but it feels like the softest of feather pillows as Cassian wraps it around himself.

2. Food

When they wake, the Narkinians give them food, too. Some kind of dry biscuit. Stale and tough. Against all odds, it tastes like fish.

Melshi wolfs his biscuit and then has to lay down, holding his stomach and grimacing. Cassian eats his slowly and carefully, experiencing food with texture, weight, flavor. Even if all of them are bad. 

His stomach cramps too, shocked by something different than bland mush delivered in a tube. His jaws ache from the action of chewing and his throat from the effort of swallowing, but he welcomes all of it.

3. Clothes

The Narkinians drop down just outside of town and let them off with some farewell in their own language that could be "now get out of our sight" or "blessings upon you, strangers." It's hard to tell. 

It's not a far walk, and as they get further into the chilly and deserted town, it's obvious this is the off-season for Niamos. Cassian struggles with whether this is good or bad, but ultimately decides that it is what it is.

They steal some clothes off a line, tearing the flimsy, grimy, stained clothes from Narkina 5 off their body and chucking them into the sea. The new clothes are damp from washing and don't fit quite right, but they're better than the prison clothes, and less noticeable.

After he retrieves his money, they head out to get real clothes, ones that fit, from one of the hundreds of second-hand stalls around town, where gamblers down to their last chit trade in their extra clothes for a few more credits.

Unimpressed with the selection at their first stop, Melshi moves on to the next stall down the street, but Cassian picks through the racks until he finds things that suit him. 

The being running the stall gives him a bored look when he sets down pants, shoes, vest, shirt, belt, bag. "Fifty credits."

He almost hands it over, but even in a tourist trap like Niamos, that's too much for Maarva Andor's son to stomach. "For this shit? Ten."

"You picked it out, my fine son. Fine, I'll do you forty-five. Those shoes are in perfect condition."

"These shoes are older than I am," Cassian says. "Fifteen."

"Forty if you really feel like robbing a poor old shopkeep today."

He snorts. "Twenty-five and that's my final offer."

"You want the shirt off my back too?" They slap down his change and wave him away. 

There's something about the exchange that makes him intensely happy. 

He puts on the shoes immediately, barely pausing to brush sand and dirt from his filthy feet. He'll have to take them off when they find someplace to clean up.  He put them on anyway.

They feel strange. Tight in some places, loose in others, and the insoles rubbing at his feet.

He stomps gently on the sidewalk and listens to the thud, and doesn't feel cold metal. Just the thickness of the soles. 

When he meets up with Melshi, the other man has put on shoes, too.

4. Privacy

There are beach showers, five minutes for a credit. They're supposed to get sand and salt off your skin. Cassian stands under the spray, face tilted into the water, and feels the walls around him. Just him. Not forty-nine other men standing beside and in front and behind.

The water shuts off and he stands considering whether he wants to give up another credit for more. He decides yes, and plugs it into the slot to get the water running again. He has no washcloth and no soap, but he uses his hands to scrub at the filthiest parts of his body.

He imagines his mother's voice, fond and scolding. Look at the state of you! Something hot burns at the corners of his eyes. 

He rarely allowed himself to think of her in prison, just like he rarely allowed himself to think of anything else outside the walls. Thinking of her now feels like a luxury on par with ragged blankets and second-hand clothes and cheap beach showers.

5. Names

"I need to make a call," he says to Melshi almost as soon as he walks out of the shower, his still-damp hair plucked by the wind, chilling his scalp. 

Melshi looks skeptical. "Sure that's the best idea?"

"I'll be careful. It'll be fine. I just - there's someone I need to talk - to get a message to. There's public comms up there." He jerks his chin. "Watch my back, would you?"

Melshi shakes his head, clearly still in doubt, but humors him. 

Hearing anyone's voice from Ferrix, even Xan's, makes his throat knot up. He whispers to disguise his voice and also because the knot is so big he can't speak any louder.

"Cassian?"

His name. His own name. The skin of Keef Girgo, tourist and convict and prisoner, falls further behind.

"No names," he said, not entirely meaning it, but trying to remember that he had to be careful. "Tell Maarva I'm okay. Tell her I'm thinking about her. She'd be proud of me."

He wants to tell the whole thing. Kino echoing his own words back to him over the intercom, the yells of the men breaking out, the thunder of bare feet on metal decks and the Imperials with their hands on their heads. 

He wants to tell his mother that he’d changed his mind, after arguing with her that rebellion was stupid and would get them killed and that she should come with him. And she turned him down.

He wants to tell his mother he rebelled.

But they don't have the time and he doesn't particularly want Xan to know first because he'd tell the whole town, and his mother should hear it first. So he finishes up, "Tell her I'm thinking about her. And that I'll get back as soon as I can. Can you remember that?"

"Cass, hang on," Xan says, his voice weirdly solemn.

He can't hang on, he doesn't have the time, Xan just needs to pass on the message - 

"Cass, I'm sorry. Your mother's dead."

+1. Grief

It's like a stone dropped from high up, crashing through the top of his head, slamming all the way through to the bottom of his feet, leaving him shredded in between.

He barely understands the rest of the conversation - she wasn't taking her medicine, her heart gave out, the Daughters are looking after her, funeral's tomorrow, I'm sorry, Cass, I'm sorry.

He ends the call and stands hanging on to the public comm booth, the wind off the sea battering at him, howling in his ears, until he feels like he's going to tip over onto his face.

When did it happen? When he was asleep? When he was working away at one of the endless pieces of machinery? When he was sitting in that hallway watching Ulaf's body cool? When he was holding a gun to the guards' heads? When he was crashing into the bitter cold water and swimming for shore? 

Did it matter?

Your mother's dead.

For one long frozen moment, he wants to be back in prison, locked away from everything, told what to do and when to do it, a mindless drone with no heart to break. 

He should have known. He should have felt something. Don't you feel a punch to the ribs? Don't you feel a tooth breaking out of your mouth? But he'd felt nothing.

He should be used to this. He’s lost three parents already. But he isn’t.

One step, two, the shock of his shoes hitting concrete rattling up through his body. He lurches from foot to foot, not walking so much as catching himself from falling, over and over again. 

"You got through?" Melshi asks him. "It's okay?"

He looks away, to the sea, lying on instinct. "Yeah, yeah. Everything okay."

Melshi says some more things, but they disintegrate into buzzing in his ears. He tries to think of his mother, in her bed maybe, eyes closed, face slack, heart still. Some of the Daughters washing her body. Sewing her into her shroud. Riding away from the house on the salvage loader, decked with what withered greenery Ferrix could offer this time of year, that he’d seen carry so many other shrouded bodies. Her friends and neighbors pausing in their work to witness her passage, faces solemn, hands folded. Her son not among them.

It wouldn't go. The holo in his head wouldn't run. 

How could Maarva Andor be gone?

"How many made it out alive?" Melshi asks him.

And before he forces himself to remember what they've been through, and what they'd talked about in the long walk into town, Cassian lets himself fall into the thought: Nobody. 

Nobody makes it out alive. 

Isn't that the way life works?

FINIS

[giggly-squiggily]

Okay I am back with paRT TWO

I need more evil Ler shadow in my life (bc also criminally underrated)

so I would be forever in your debt to see little Miya hiding from Shadow after doing something to make him mad. Eventually, he begs Cherry to hide him, who promptly tells Shadow where the kid is hiding. (Idk I feel like this would be sO CUTE)

THANK YOU AGAIN I AM SO IN YOUR DEBT 😭😭😭

Oops did these out of order kjaerkjejkraj BUT THAT KITTY THOUGH AHHHH! *dies from the cute* That gif really does radiate Miya vibes and I am here for it! I've gotcha covered, Ducky! Thank you for letting me write for these dorks!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps)

@myreygn

“Hide me!” Was the only thing Miya cried as he crashed into Cherry’s space, diving behind the pink haired man and using his Kimono as a shield. Cherry was about to ask what exactly he thought he was doing when a rather displeased looking Shadow stormed in.

“Cherry! Have you seen Miya?” He sounded angry, real angry. Cherry lowered an arm so his sleeve shielded Miya more.

“Why exactly are you looking for him? And more importantly, have you ever heard of manners? What happened to ‘Hello Cherry, how are you today?’ before making demands?” His sharp tone startled the other. Good. Shadow at least had the nerve to look sheepish.

“Sorry. My bust. It’s just- that little runt-” Shadow grit his teeth as he fisted his hands, looking mad once more. Upon closer inspection, Cherry realized it wasn’t genuine rage- more annoyance. “Not only did he make me take him all the way to Joe’s place to eat, but then he called me an old fart! ME! I’m 24, how the hell am I old?” He didn’t wait for Cherry’s answer. “And THEN he had the balls to ask for ice cream on the way here!”

“Did you get it?” Cherry asked, brow raised.

“Well…yeah. I wanted ice cream too.” Shadow admitted. “But he called my taste in flavors '’shitty’! SHITTY! Pistachio ice cream is amazing, I don’t care what anyone says.”

Clearly he did, but Cherry wasn’t gonna say anything. Invested, he waved him on. “Okay, what happened next?”

“I told him one more peep out of him and he was gonna get dragged into the Shadow Realm-”

“The Shadow Realm?” Cherry asked, earning a blush.

“It’s a good name! Anyway-you know what he did?” Shadow looked so serious it was almost laughable. “He blew a raspberry at me and said ‘Suck it, old man!’ before running away!” Shadow shook his head in disgust. “I’ve never been so disrespected!”

Cherry tsked, shaking his head at the poor man’s story. “Shame. Children can be rather rude nowadays.” A pinch to his elbow reminded him where Miya was. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but you just missed him. I think he ran back to Joe’s.” He gestured towards the mentioned man’s half of the apartment, subtly nodding over his shoulder. Shadow’s eyes widened with understanding, a smile starting to pull on his lips. “You should see him there.”

“Thanks, Cherry. I owe you a million.” Shadow turned to go, waving. When he was out of sight, Miya appeared once more, standing a few paces forward as he looked around. “He’s gone?”

“Yes. Though I have to ask, was all of what he said true? Did you really do all that?” Cherry gave him a look, making Miya bow his head.

“Erm…yes. Maybe I took it too far.” He mumbled, pulling on his jacket. Unbeknownst to him, Shadow reappeared behind him, crouching like a comical villain as he crept forward. “Still- Pistachio ice cream is gross though!”

“Fair, but you shouldn’t be so disrespectful. One of these days, it’s gonna bite you back.”

“Yeah…say, when do you think that day’s gonna come?”

“Right now, you little shit!” Shadow roared, grabbing Miya and earning a squeal of shock. “Fear the Shadow Realm as it devours you whole!”

“What- No! Nohohohohohoohoho!” Miya squealed again, this time in laughter as Shadow dug into his sides playfully. He squirmed to and from, unable to get away as Shadow found all the soft spots along his torso. “Shahahhahahadow dohohoohoohn’t!”

“There is no Shadow now! Only the Shadow Realm! You’ve been dropped in, and now must face its wrath!” Said man grinned as he sat back, pulling Miya into his lap as he gave his belly a few tickles. “Your punishment: 7th zone of tickles!”

“Aahhahahahahhahahha, nhoohohohohot tihihiihihickles! Chehehhherry hehehehhelp mehehhehehhehe!” Miya whined to the older man, reaching out helplessly before Shadow attacked his armpit, making him shoot back with a cackle.

“Sorry Miya. I warned you what would happen.” Cherry instead turned back to his desk, kneeling down and gathering his tea. “Carla, take a record, won’t you? Mark this as the day Miya learned his lesson on respect.”

“Noted.” The board spoke, starting to record.

“Thank you Carla.” Cherry looked pleased.

“Doohohohohn’t recohohohohord this! Hehehehehelp mehehehhehe-AHH NOT THE FHEEHHEHEHEHEHT!” Miya shrieked when Shadow grabbed an ankle, yanking off his shoe and drilling into his socked feet. “STAHAHHAHHAP IHIIHIHIHIIHT!”

“Oo, kitty cat’s got some ticklish beans, yeah?” Shadow teased, poking and prodding at his toes, earning a scream and a swat. “You’re gonna sound like you’re getting murdered on there, hehehe.”

“IHIHIHIHIIHIHF I DIHIHIHIHIE YOHOOOHOUR GOHOOOOHING TO JAHAHHAHAHIL!” Miya cackled through his screams, cheeks red and eyes misty.

“Nah, Cherry will back me up! Right Cherry?” Shadow grinned.

“Nope. You’re on your own.” He replied, earning a gutted noise from Shadow.

“SEHEHEHEHEHEE? HEHHEHE’S A TRAHAHAHHAITOR!” Miya squealed out, near silent with mirth. Shadow tsked as he eased up, letting the kid breath. “Yeah, but you’re the one who started it!”

“Eheheh…eheheheh…I’m shahaharry…” Miya grunted out, reaching up and petting Shadow’s arm. “Reahehehally I am…”

The older man softened almost immediately, shaking his head. “Fine, I’ll forgive you. But next time you diss me like that It’s gonna be harsher.” He poked the other’s belly for emphasis, earning a giggle.

“Fihihine…Pistachios’ still gross though.” Miya hopped up and bounced out of reach, grinning at Shadow’s face. “I’m not changing my mind!”

“What? It’s amazing! You’re just uncultured!” Shadow called after him, giving chase. Soon Cherry was left alone once more, sipping his tea with a small smile on his lips.

He rather liked the company he kept these days.

I hope this was good!

[givehimthemedicine]

Eleven, Terry Ives, Will, and Firestarter

Thinking about how we might beat Vecna in season 5, and about how 008 is the only other one out there besides 001 and 011.. but actually no she's not exactly.

It's well established how much ST loves Firestarter. Not only with 80s flavor references like its poster hanging in the window of Steve and Robin's video store, but also heavy plot borrowing for Eleven's powers and backstory.

(In Firestarter, a man and woman are participants in some drug experiments, basically MKUltra by a different name. This gives the guy mind control powers a lot like 008's (and nose bleeds when he uses them) and the woman a little bit of telekinesis. Then they have a baby and it's Drew Barrymore and she can start fires with her mind and government agents chase them about it, killing the mom and kidnapping DB to use her as a weapon.)

I don't know why nobody ever talks about this, but Eleven's mom is a little bit telekinetic.

She makes the lights flicker to get El's attention. She changes the channels on the TV, and it's not purely by screwing around with electricity or whatever, she's physically changing the channels (look at the knob turning, they showed us El changing channels in Hop's cabin exactly the same way). Her nose bleeds. And this has nothing to do with El channeling her yet because El is surprised by the TV.

If Terry has been telekinetic all this time, how could her sister/primary caretaker/housemate be unaware of it? Well, Aunt Becky has about 8 lines and most of them are just to hammer home what a big ol skeptic she is about ghosts, religion, psionic abilities, you name it. When the lights flicker she tells El "oh yeah they do that sometimes, it's just the wiring". This isn't new to her. She also mentions a "crazy Aunt Shirley who thinks the house is haunted" which could mean the lights, or, what would make someone think a house haunted more than objects moving on their own?

Terry has been doing minor acts of telekinesis for 12 years trying to get her family's attention and they just never looked.

Oh maybe Terry doesn't exactly have powers, maybe the lights thing is more akin to Will spelling with the Christmas lights, or maybe the shock torture gave her some kind of electrical abilities? Nope. Remember when Hopper and Joyce went to visit Terry and Aunt Becky in season 1 and her dialogue literally namedropped Stephen King?

Becky: Terry pretends like Jane is real, like she's gonna come home someday. Says she's special. Born with abilities. Joyce: Abilities? Becky: You read any Stephen King? (chuckles) You guys look scared. I mean, it's all make-believe. Joyce: What kind of abilities? Becky: Telepathy, telekinesis. You know, shit you can do with your mind.

Why on earth would Terry randomly figure her newborn baby to have psionic abilities unless she herself already had them to pass on? Why would Brenner steal the baby unless he thought so too? Her conscious mind may be scrambled but she's still in control of her powers. 008 isn't the only other one out there.

Of course, isn't a huge element missing from this Firestarter homage.. fire?

I'm pretty sure Eleven is pyrokinetic.

There's a tiny throwaway flashback of El's life in the woods between seasons 1 and 2 where she kills and cooks a squirrel. We are not shown how she starts the fire.

I really don't see how she would've randomly learned how to make a campfire in her 6 days outside of the lab. Even if she did know, it's hella difficult to start a friction fire even with dry sticks, and it's snowy out there. There's no shot of her finding a lighter in the pocket of that shirt (whose shirt is that?). It's actually kinda hard to get a sustained campfire going even with tools if you don't already know what you're doing, which, why would she?

I believe this kid is pyrokinetic, and with heat/fire being key in defeating UD stuff so far, it's gotta come into play in season 5. It wouldn't be the first time El whipped out some seemingly new power that was actually established ages ago (making the bully pee his pants is I guess the same ability as restarting Max's heart)

Another troubling thought is that Firestarter's incredibly strong pyrokinesis is explained as the result of inheriting psionic powers from both parents. Terry "didn't know she was pregnant during the experiments" but that doesn't tell us exactly when she got pregnant, before or during. If during, using Firestarter logic, El's father would be a man with psionic powers, and I'm really hoping that could mean some random fellow-test-subject dude instead of.. y'know. 001 being El's father :/

Anyway, back to the fire thing, you know there's this other little fella who has a lot to do with fire?

Joyce: If he's so wise, why does he need fireballs? Can't he just, you know, outsmart the bad guys? Will: Most of the time, yeah, totally. But sometimes the bad guys are smart, too. You know? Joyce: Yeah. So he needs the fireballs? Will: Well, yeah. To burn them to a crisp.

Will absolutely has to do something big with fire in 5.

In conclusion, I wanna see Willel burn Vecna's shit, and if Mama wants to help somehow too that's cool, thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[march-harrigan]

1, 5, 16, & 18 for Jervis Tetch aka Mad Hatter? :p

OH BOY, I'm gonna have to break out the readmore because you've just opened the floodgates! I have entirely too many opinions on this man.

Thank ya for the ask!

1 - Favourites thing(s) about this character? - It varies from version to version, honestly. But if I had to pick something consistent across most portrayals, it would just be some of the ways I relate to him.

He's obviously not neurotypical, first of all(canonically schizophrenic and there may even be some other things there. Who knows?). That's true of many rogues, of course, but Jervis is the one I recognize a lot of my own symptoms and coping mechanisms in. Particularly in the way he clings to childhood nostalgia and retreats into his fantasy world when reality gets to be too much. Albeit in the form of actual delusions depending on the media whereas I'm more of a maladaptive daydreamer.

He's also been portrayed to be very meek before he officially takes on the Mad Hatter persona. Usually feeling like he doesn't fit in with the people around him whether it's because of his physical appearance(a result of dwarfism and macrocephaly in some versions) or just the fact that he's kind of odd or immature-acting.

He feels liked he's overlooked, shunned, or actively hated for who he is, which I think is a very real experience for a lot of neurodivergent people(Although fortunately, the internet has made it a lot easier to find other people who "get" you these days).

But also, I just love the fun/whimsical aesthetic and absolute "little bastard" energy he gives off once he's started his criminal career.

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5 - What do you not like about this character? - Addressing the creepy elephant in the room with this one. I do not like how many modern takes on the character end up being some flavor of sexual predator. Admittedly, it's partly because he's my blorbo and I don't like seeing that on his list of crimes. But I actually do have a couple of more thought out reasons for it as well.

First of all, I find DC can't be trusted with that kind of story telling most of the time if ever. I think it can be done well if it's a commentary on real world abuse or something that empowers survivors, but it usually just ends up being for shock value. Just there to make the story seem darker or edgier.

Secondly, there seems to be a pattern across media in general where schizophrenia(if it's mentioned or addressed at all) is this evil scary disorder that makes the person almost inhuman. With some rogues, there's an attempt to understand them. The things that drive them, why they were the way they are and the glimmer of hope that someday they could be helped. But then certain DC media will go and make Jervis as slimy and unforgivable as possible and it's exhausting.

I'm not 100% opposed to the idea of kidnapping "Alice" as part of a delusion(or in the case of BTAS, a poorly though out last resort). But where it would go from there in my mind is panicked realization. She's not responding properly, she lacks any personality, whatever drew him to her in the first place isn't there. THIS WAS A BAD IDEA. He either falls into a deep depression or lashes out. If it's the latter, he regrets it and it hurts him deeply that his violent impulses won again. He's sobbing and apologetic(see Joker's Asylum II: Mad Hatter for one of my favorite takes on this).

He's still doing awful, terrible things, but you get more of a glimpse into his humanity and his struggles with an untreated mental illness(because let's be real, Arkham isn't doing SHIT for him) and a lack of any real support system(again... Joker's Asylum II: Mad Hatter).

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16- What do you think would improve this character? Like, character-arc wise? - I know I keep banging on about the Joker's Asylum II portrayal, but I think it would be an excellent starting point for just. Something on the concept of a recovery or attempted recovery for Jervis.

I wanna see a dedicated storyline where he's fighting tooth and nail to be his best self! I want to see him with a proper support system, learning healthy coping mechanisms! I wanna see him make connections with other people in the real world! Even if he falls in the end, even if he reverts to crime for whatever reason and winds up back in Arkham. Just to show some real hope for him that maybe someday, he can start to recover from the more harmful symptoms and be truly happy would do my heart good.

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18- What’s something you associate this character with? E.g. a certain colour, object or scenery? - Wonderland, hats, tea, etc. would all be the obvious of course. As well as blue/green for colors.

I've actually come to associate him with the entire concept of nostalgia, especially for fantasy stories. I also think of him when watching movies like Labyrinth or The Dark Crystal. I even have several songs from the Labyrinth soundtrack in a Spotify playlist for BTAS Jervis. Just feels right somehow.