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The problem with my art right now is that 1) the little drawing time I have goes to @daily-basil ; 2) I have phases, and am currently deeply unmotivated ; and 3) when I do draw what this blog is currently about (Arsenic) I draw him in a gay way (because I love him deeply) and not like the unhinged person he actually is. I'm sorry I'm so soft about him right now. Yes I want Sunny and him to tear each other apart but they also need to love each other so so so much first
#siiiiiiigh...#im sorry i need him to hold sunny gently and tells him he loves him and yes he'll say it in horrible unhinged ways BUT#poor man who does not know how to love and does not know he can be loved. he is convinced he needs to manipulate people to make them stay#writing down arsenic lore for tosteur like two days ago made me so emotional about him. shaking and crying#there's not even like An Event it's just that his whole childhood sucks and he's never been accepted by anyone and he's so lonely and#(starts crying)#he does horrible horrible things but all he does to sunny truly comes from love. deeply inhumane and twisted love but love nonetheless#(except when he's being a selfish ass who doesn't have any sort of morals and generally doesn't give a shit about other people. of course)#god he's such a horrible person (/simplification) i love him#he does not care about hurting other people and only cares about his own selfish desires#he thinks he can do anything he wants and if other people get hurt by his actions it's not his problem#don't you DARE touch a single hair on sunny's head. not in a 'i care about my bf' way btw.#but because if sunny gets hurt. he has to deal with that and 1) it's boring unless it brings him something and 2) that's *his* plaything.#even when he does nice things for sunny he doesn't make it just to make sunny happy#he does it so that sunny will associate happiness with him and stay.#that's what he thinks consciously at least. he always had ulterior motives for everything he does#it doesn't really make him calculating because it's automatic at this point. it just makes him deeply selfish#my poor little boy who has never had anyone genuinely care about him before...#which doesn't excuse shit of course but hhhh i love him so much.#(D if you see this. this is about the OC not the guy. of course)#arsenic#rant#sometimes i think about nick like a normal person ('he's so awful and interesting') and sometimes i just slhrflfbfb. (cries)
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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)
SO these I should start on asap:
50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make
100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week
150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)
200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)
these can wait longer:
300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect
500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)
1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks
2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.
Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese
here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)
How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks
I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.
that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.
the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.
On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started
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we all agree that the push towards short form, vertical video (tiktok/reels/shorts) is ruining fucking everything right? Tiktok has been useful for the dissemination of political information (e.g Gaza) i’ll give it that, but that feels moreso a result of meta and twitters algorithms being just a little *more*’evil and censor happy. And i want to make it very clear that my hatred for tiktok has nothing to do with the fact that it was a product of a Chinese company, because i see a lot of critiques relying on some sort of sinophobic conspiracy. On the contrary, it’s what tiktok has become in the vacuum of western popular culture and marketing that makes me fearful.
I know that every generation faces a new, polarizing technology and inevitably, there are those among said generation who will critique it. That is the nature of things. However, there is also something to be said about how, with the acceleration of technology (running parallel to the acceleration of capitalism, acceleration towards collapse etc), each coming generation faces an increasingly more malevolent “advancement”. TLDR, i’m going to talk my shit.
I’m going to speak on the aspect that is most relavent to me, as a musician. I am petrified by what short form video is doing to music and to musicians. I think that tiktok provides the illusion of making music and being a musician more “accessible” while actually pouring gasoline on the fire that the pop music machine had already started. Standards for what popular culture “expects” from music are being doubled and tripled. Let’s talk about song length. Success and marketability favoring shorter songs is not something new, it has been the trend for decades. But with short form video, it goes even further. You’re not just hearing the same song over and over on the radio, you’re hearing the same 15-30 seconds of the same song over and over again. This in-turn, starts to influence the way people write music, persuading people to make songs that *could* have that 15 second appeal. There is an art to pop music, there is an art to writing a catchy hook—this is something else. We weren’t meant to hear or understand music like that. There are so many songs from reels that i found annoying, until i heard them in their full context. It’s insidious. It makes everything feel like a fucking commercial, even if nothing is being advertised.
I’m going to pull directly from someone else’s experiences, someone who’s music seems to be everywhere on short form videos. The ambient musician My Head Is Empty has a hundred million streams on the song “i was only temporary”. Despite that exposure, they experience “never ending copywrite issues” and have “received death threats” by people who refuse to credit them when using their song. Pulling a quote here, from a comment on their own post
“vyva_melinkolya unfortunately it just gets worse. i saw a bot content page that steals pod cast footage and spams dozens of videos with my song stolen, comment on a "motivation" spam content , who actually made a post telling people the name of my song, and the previous page i mentioned, the pod cast spam commented on that video saying "Bro stop don't give out the sauce. this audio helps me pull numbers brooo" - so people are actively INTENTIONALLY stealing it and telling people to not credit me. like. u can't make this stuff up”
Beyond this, My Head Is Empty feels frustrated that despite all this exposure, the rest of their work (nine albums) as a musician remains under appreciated, and i think that frustration is 100% valid. People cannot fully appreciate music, or even understand it as a work of art created by another human, when it’s taken so far out of its context. Again, the soul being sucked out of art by “the machine” isn’t anything new but, this is a whole other level. Being a musician is more expensive than ever, streaming earns you fractions of a cent etc, it all feeds into itself.
When a song or a musician i love deeply finds its way on to tiktok (let’s use Duster’s “Stars Will Fall”, one of my favorite songs ever as an example)I am not upset that i cant “gatekeep” it anymore. I’m not upset by the idea of something I love and hold dearly finding a larger audience. I AM upset in the manner in which it is being disseminated. I’m upset with art I hold dear to me being chopped up and used as “trending audio”. When I saw Duster in concert recently, lStars Will Fall” was the song I was most looking forward to hearing. It was the last song they played, and it was the song seemly everyone chose to talk loudly over. The audience was mostly people my age and younger. This complaint might come off as petty or pretentious or cliche, i frankly do not give a shit.
Let’s talk about how musicians are expected to promote music on tiktok/reels. This is a matter of opinion, at the risk of sounding very pretentious: the “POV we are x band from x” “My label says i need x followers before x” “posting this video until c musician notices me”. I understand that some of it is in jest but, what the fuck? When did this become the norm? I do not blame anyone for promoting their music like this, but we should want more for ourselves. I’ve always said being a musician is deeply embarassing, inherently. If being a musician is inherently embarassing then what is this? I dont have a solution for this, and the music industry has always been ugly and bloodthirsty and seldom fruitful— but i feel like the very small amount of dignity we had as artists is now lost and I cant fucking stand it. Artists seem to promote the same single with dozens of reels over the course of months, hoping that something sticks. I dont want to sound like i’m shaming or, again, sound like i can provide a solution. I’m just very fucking sorry that it seems like this is “the way”. And personally, i’m scared that if i dont “get with the program”, im going to fail.
Again, all of this speaks to larger trends in entertainment industry and even larger trends in capitalism. But i’m just airing specifics right now because frankly? I cant take it anymore.
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Two Steps Back. | Advanced Payment
logline; it's time to retrace your steps. both of you.
[!!!] series history, this is the thirteenth; nothing distresses me more than when i see people read this out of order PLEASE BABY PLEASE
Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. constant headache was actually in season 3? my brain. my power.
Or, maybe you'd like a playlist made especially for this chapter? Consider this my Fishes special.
portion; 17k new record again, please god tell me it gets shorter from here on i'm so. tired..
possible allergies; you will know exactly what trigger warnings you need upon reading seeing the first line. Also! I watched Season 3, and injected some lines from it into this, including the finale. I don't consider it full spoilers, because it's an entirely new context, but you might wanna catch up before you read this one!
pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader so excessively gendered, in this chapter. my bad.
it's my birthday so if you typically lurk legally you have to tell me your thoughts on this one! Also it's once again the new longest, so like. cmon.
“What are you, Amish?”
You blink, craning your head back to look up at this annoying giant. You’re too tired for this shit. This is your one day off this week and you’re spending it fixing faulty lights with your dad, at some shit diner. Why did you agree to start coming on jobs? Why’s this guy gotta bother you on your lunch break? What’s wrong with you not wanting to smoke? Pardon you for not wanting to kill yourself with tobacco—
“Ah, no, I’m just uhm—” You gesture your hand to your head. “I get migraines, kinda easy, so I can’t, uh— Can’t indulge.”
He nods, he opts to stand next to you, while you’re sitting on the curb. At least the smoke will blow over your head, this way. You try to eat your lunch in peace. He does not let you have this moment of peace.
“Jack, right?” He nudges your foot with his. “That’s what your pop’s calls you, at least?”
“Yeah. Everyone calls me Jack.” You nod. Guess this is a conversation now, whether you want it or not. “You’re Mikey? The owner?”
“The Original Chicago Beef, in the flesh.” He nods, and he says it like he’s proud but he doesn’t look it. He leers at your partially consumed tin foil wrapped sandwich. “You bring your own lunch?”
You shrug. “Uh, yeah, grilled cheese with pork—”
“Why would you—” The door to the kitchen swings open, as Mikey grimaces. You both turn your heads to see another guy come out— Oh it’s that one, the one that cannot stop talking about his divorce— Mikey consults him. “Yo, Rich, do I look like some jamoke, to you? Just wonderin’.”
Rich, tilts his head, and his legs follow after him, “No, cousin, whatssup?” He takes the cigarette from Mikey, when it’s offered up.
“Well, our little fixer friend here—” Mikey nudges you, again. “—seems to think me a fuckin’ ass.”
Now when did you say anything like that? “Wha—”
“Stop making lunches, I’ve been watching you come in here with your little lunch pail the past few jobs, you eat free ‘ere, aright? You’re workin’.” Doesn’t matter what you said. Mikey sees you. Mikey’s always seen you.
‘workin’’ is a bit generous. The most you do is hand your dad tools, hold a flashlight, and ask too many questions. You definitely could do more, but he knows you're too tired. He really just wants to spend time with you. You pretend to not know his ulterior motives.
“We’re gentlemen here, sweetheart.” Rich bends down, so you can see him past Mikey’s frame, at your level. He reaches a hand out for you to shake. “Richie. Jerimovich.”
You’re not gonna remember that. You take his hand and shake it. “Jack. It’s— I’m just Jack.”
You’ve only got one hand on your sandwich, to shake Richie’s hand. So, like a school bully, Michael takes your loosened grip as his opportunity to grab it from you. “Yoink—!”
You whine, “C’mon—” “Let me make you a real fuckin’ sandwich, sweetheart—” “I’d just like my sandwich, alright?” “Oh, it’ll be your sandwich, alright? You think I don’t make good sandwiches? Richie, she doesn’t think I make good sandwiches.”
“Fuckin’ insane, cousin.”
You attempt to defend yourself from the peanut gallery of one guy. “Not what I said!”
“Why do you keep bringing lunch, then?”
Because it’s easy? Because it’s orderly? Because you’ve been in a full state of autopilot for the last threeish years and every day you’ve eaten the same breakfast and made the same lunch and then you go on your shift and then someone nearly dies and sobs in your arms and then you sit on the edge of the ambulance and you eat your grilled cheese and pork? Because if you break the routine it’s all gonna hit?
“I just like making my own lunch.”
“Well, stop. You’re breaking my heart.” Michael takes a bite of your sandwich. You click your teeth. Germs. You’re going to chastise him, but he doesn’t let you. “You like pork more than beef?”
“I think beef is fine.”
“Not what I asked.”
You take too long to respond, meaning the lie won’t be believable, so you have to tell the truth. You have to tell The Original Chicago Beef that— “I… I like pork more.”
“How dare you—” Barks Richie, the guard dog, apparently. Mikey stops him, putting a hand up.
“No, no, I asked the lady a question. She’s wrong but I asked. Fair’s fair. We express our fury like gentlemen, Cousin.” He nods, to himself. Thinking. About what is beyond you. God, so much for a lunch break. You point to your sandwich in his hand.
“Can I have that back—” “No. I’m makin’ you a goddamn real sandwich.”
You all but growl, really. You start to stand up. God, this guy is pushy. “I just said, I prefer—”
Mikey’s already making his way back into the kitchen, with the last half of your lunch as hostage. “Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ pork sandwich, aright?”
Mikey’s guard dog stamps out the butt of the shared cigarette, walking backwards into the kitchen, following Mikey but watching you. “He’s gonna make you fuckin’ pork, aright?”
“Aright!” Is all you can yell back, at your wits with the two dumbest most stubborn middle-aged geezers you’ve ever met.
Richie holds the door open for you, so you don’t get locked out. Alright, maybe he is a gentleman. You hear Mikey’s voice ring, from inside the kitchen. “And if you’re not doin’ nothin’ for your dad, try to fix the fuckin’ coffee machine, would you?”
This fucking guy.
You have waved at him a couple times, here and there, while helping out your dad. But now, you’ve officially had Michael Bear Berzatto in your life for a solid ten minutes. Doesn’t feel like it.
Carmen Anthony Bear Berzatto has officially not had you in his life for ten minutes. Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like you’ve been gone for years. But you’re probably still just outside, talking to Richie and Syd. How is it still Friday? What time is it? Almost six? They’ve still got four fucking hours of service to go? No, that’s a good thing. This is a good thing. Doesn’t give him time to think. Everyone needs to stop staring at him.
What a fucking monster. What did he even say? He can’t remember anymore. He remembered ten minutes ago, and now it’s gone. Completely walled off in his memory. What did he say? Why did you make that face? What did he say to Richie, again? Why did you step in front of him? What did you say, again? What did Richie say? What happened? He can’t remember. He knows he did something fucked up but Carmen cannot remember what happened twenty minutes ago. That’s bad, right?
“I need hands!” Carmen does not recognize the fact that he’s working until he hears his own voice.
Right. He’s on expo. He’s doing expo. That’s what was happening twenty minutes ago, he thinks. That’s what was happening, right? Doesn’t matter. This is what he’s doing now. Fak comes back in and takes the tray to run. He looks around for a moment, confused.
“Where’s Tony?”
“She’s gone.”
Fak pauses. You don’t leave, that doesn’t match up in his brain. It doesn’t really match up in Carmen’s either, but this is what’s happening now. “What’d’you mean she’s gone?”
“I mean she’s fucking gone, Fak.” Carmen barks back, practically. Such a fucking monster. Could Fak tell him what he said? Doesn’t matter. Carmen nods to the plate. “Table twenty-five, go.”
“...Where’d she go—” “Fucking go, Fak!”
There is a loud, thrumming buzz. The type that goes off after a game. Or maybe after a wrong answer. Expo clock. Since when did it have a sound setting? The kitchen flinches, including Carmen, including a meek-made Neil, and look to the clock behind them.
Time has stopped. 0ERR is all it displays now. The sign ‘EVERY SECOND COUNTS’ is real ironic, now. What the fuck happened? You would know. You’re still outside, Carmen could get you. Carmen could get you and say he’s sorry for whatever happened. The back of his head feels like it’s hemorrhaging. He needs to go to a doctor. Maybe a paramedic. Carmen could get you, ask you what he said, and also ask if he is actively dying, right now.
“Fak.”
“Carm?”
“Table twenty-five.” Carmen points at the plate again, with his sharpie. Then points behind him, to the broken clock. “Then fix that.”
“Why not call To—” “Do you want a fucking job here or not?” “I—I do—” “Then do your fucking job, Fak.”
Carmen doesn’t need you. The Bear doesn’t need you. They can function just fine. Everything’s fine, without you. Everything’s normal. Everything is the way that it should be. He is shaking so much— When did he eat? Has he eaten? What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened twenty minutes ago? Or was it twenty-five? No. That’s table twenty-five, he’s mixing up his numbers. What time is it? He doesn’t know. The whole kitchen doesn’t know what time it is, anymore. You are gone and so are the minutes.
Fak leaves, with the plate. Shrunken. Following orders. Carmen just turns everyone into himself, doesn’t he? What a fucking monster. He knows how bad it is to be him, and yet he still does it. Look at the orders, Carmen. Run fucking expo. So fucking slow, Carmen. Look at the orders.
The crumpled piece of paper you handed him twenty minutes— Thirty? Fuck. The fucking note you handed him some amount of time ago. It sits on his table, next to all the actual orders. He rereads it, instead of the five cavatellis he’s supposed to be yelling about, right now.
Walk-In Hotfix, $80
Plumbing Repair (Service + 4 Hours), $250
Oven Wiring Fix (House call), $70
Oven Hotfix + Replacement Thermocouple, $120
Non-Gratis: Pinot Grigio, -$20
Advanced Payment, M. Berzatto. -$2,500
You forgot the booths. And taxes. And you should probably get paid a half day, for serving for the past half hour. You also forgot all the times he called you, texted you, came over, the bookshelf you brought him, the basil, the rosemary water, cleaning up his trash, every time you tried food for him, every time you told him everything was going to be okay, every time you made everyone breath in here like it was going to be okay— You forgot everything you do. Priceless. Easily, you are owed millions, from Carmen.
He flips over the note. He reads Sweeps’ quick scribings from David, the fucking asshole out front, the fucking asshole in his head.
Cherry + Lamb, good flavour. A lot of elements. Fresh, Unique. Overall good? Ig? Weird tone.
Said he’d like to speak to ‘Wine Girl’ (ick), mentioned Michelin connect? Number = Connect? (Ick)
You didn’t eat the cherry and lamb dish. That just connected, in his head. You didn’t get to eat it. Not only did you not get to eat it, the motherfucker outside did. Fuck. You were trying to be nice, but you’ve fucked him. Unique is practically a slur to his Exec. Carmen has fun when he makes things for you— He plays— That’s not what his Exec wants. He wants two elements, max. The fact that David actually liked the flavour is nothing short of a fucking miracle. Carmen could throw up. He’s definitely getting an ulcer, again. Where’s your Tums? Fuck, you took it with you, didn’t you?
It’s embarrassing how many rules he forgets to implement, when he cooks for you. Boundless, unrestricted— When he cooks for you. Doesn't cut a single concept. It’s mortifying that someone other than you ate it, let alone David fucking Fields.
Carmen’s eyes feather, almost closing, but not completely. He scratches his fingers through his hair, destroying the cast of gel it’s been stuck in. His curls are desperately trying and failing to reform. It doesn’t matter how much he runs his hands through it, he cannot get it to smell like you again. He cannot find you in himself, he cannot find you in his kitchen. That’s what annoyed him, earlier, wasn’t it? That you were everywhere? That you were carved in, everywhere? He thought he didn’t want that?
His knees bounce where he stands, he bumps into his jacket under the table. Right. You left it. Are you cold? Turtleneck was thin. You looked so good. You always look good. Better, in his clothes, but you always look good. Did he remember to tell you that? Probably not.
“Where—” Fuck, he really is going to throw up. “Where we at on Booth Twelve’s dessert tray, Chef?”
You said it was okay for Carmen to give your number out. You gave your dish out. You shelled yourself out, for Carmen. It feels like a cave is being hollowed out, in his throat. He is so angry and he doesn’t know who it’s for. He doesn’t know where to put it. Is that what happened twenty-three— twenty-four minutes ago? Did he give it to you? No, he gave it to Richie, right? That’s how it started. Marcus hands off the dessert paddle to expo, silently. No one wants to talk to Carmen. That’s probably fair. What did he say? Probably bad. It’s already huge they haven’t walked out on him, yet. Has anyone walked out, yet?
Marcus is here, Syd is still out back— Well, actually, she might’ve left with you, she should if she can. Are you still out there? Tina wipes her eyes, working at the oven you fixed thirty— No, forty— Fuck— Earlier. It’s probably the onions from the broth making her tear up. No, it definitely is. Fak is out front, Sweeps is out front, Richie is still out back.
What did he say to Richie? Something about kids? There are no servers to hand off dessert to stupid fucking booth twelve. Carmen cannot keep looking at the family he’s ruined, in whatever way he managed to ruin it. He grabs the dessert tray. He’ll deliver it himself. He can do it all himself. He’s good by himself.
You’ve been out of Carmen’s life for 0ERR minutes. Yeah. That’s exactly how long it feels like.
“Try it try it try it.” You mumble, hurriedly, excitedly, to Marcus. The bread guy. He’s the nicest of the bunch, so far. You hand him the mug. He takes a sip of the coffee you’ve been perfecting for the last six jobs here, give or take. You’ve been in The Beef’s life for two months or so.
“Holy shit.” He nods, digesting it— Actually digesting it, which means— “It’s edible.”
“I know!” You all but shout, too excited to hide it. You’ve finally figured out how to make this thing produce what it’s supposed to— Instead of what is essentially arsenic with coffee flavouring.
Your excitement makes a line cook behind you grimace. The one you’ve still got yet to win over. “My ears, kid.”
“Sorry.” You reply lightly. Your back is turned to her, so she can’t see you cringe to Marcus, crying for help, practically. He’s sympathetic. He kept saying you just need to prove yourself, but it’s been taking forever, what else can you prove?
He decides to fast track you. “Yo, T.” She nods. She respects Marcus. But you’re just some girl that’s been in her walkway for the past seven weeks. “Try it.” He hands her your edible coffee.
She rolls her eyes, already nonplussed, but she takes the coffee. She is genuinely impressed, for a split second, before it turns into a coy sarcasm. “Wow— You’ve made not poison, great job, baby.”
“I’m gonna get better.” You respond instantly. That’s something you noticed Tina likes. Quickness. “I’m gonna make you a good coffee.” Determination, too.
“Bold.”
“Thank you—”
“No.” She pushes the coffee to your chest; you grab it before it spills. “I like it bold.”
God, she’s so scary. “Heard.” She’s so cool.
She watches you, for a second; wants to see if you crack. You don’t, thankfully. She folds. She finally kinda likes you— Or rather, is willing to admit it, in some small way. “You can come tonight.”
You can come to family, tonight. It takes everything in you not to cheer. You should mix them drinks. Or is that too try hard? No, it’s the perfect amount of try— Right? It was your old party trick in college, you should use it. Prove yourself.
“Cool.” Is all you can say, without seeming like a desperate nerd.
You've been slowly cutting away at every relationship in your life, par for your family— And even that hangs by a thread— And you thought you were fine with that. You thought you were good like that, but once you got used to The Weirdos of The Beef, you cannot help but desperately want friends, again.
Every moment you get outside of your twelve to twenty-four hour EMS shifts, you spend it here. You’re tired, but it might actually be worth it; to talk to people instead of rotting in your apartment for half a week every week.
What month is it? March? When's Squid's birthday again? Did you miss it? It's the one time a year you get to talk without the underlying pressure that you have to hang out now.
Happy Birthday, what have you been up to? Oh, same thing as last year? You're irrevocably a different person now but you're also still the same? Nothing much? Same here. We should see each other soon. We won't. I won't say I love you because I don't want to be weird. Even though we used to say it every day. I will never know you like I used to, and so I won't even try. Same time next year?
Working in The Beef reminds you of her. Reminds you of the other stubborn cook in your life. Was in your life? Don’t think about that. Sometimes you hear her dad's voice out front, buying himself a half-hot half-sweet braised beef sandwich. Sometimes you think about going out there and saying hi. Sometimes you think about asking about Syd. Sometimes you think about asking how the catering gig is going. Sometimes you think about asking if she needs you anymore.
You never do.
“Aye.” Mikey claps your shoulders, bringing you back to earth. You didn't even realize he was behind you. He digs his hands in, a sudden and always painful massage. His preferred way of saying stop fucking tweaking. He leans over your shoulder, looking at the coffee cup that doesn't look as pitiful as it usually does. “Good job, kid.”
“Thank you—” “Now figure out how to make it worth drinking.”
You scoff, rolling your shoulders to push him off you. “I'm fuckin’ trying!”
His hands stay in place, but his massage does become gentle, and actually decent. Per usual. You’re not sure how he always manages to get the knots. “T say you can come to family?”
You had to get all yeses that you are now in fact family to join for family. You look over your shoulder to face him. “Mhm.”
“Good.” He looks around. “Your dad here?”
You nod. “In the basement, something about your furnace? It's fucking beyond my skill set, so I'm up here until he needs me.” As much as your dad started doing this to hang out with you, heads got too hot with you fucking up which tools to hand him one too many times; repeatedly yelling same team in a more and more distressed tone did not seem to be helping either. Whatever. Gave you more time with the coffee machine. You’re going to make this thing your bitch, one day. One day this thing is going to sing for you.
“Oh, good.” And with that, he's already pulling you to his station. “You can help me with family brisket, then.”
“Nooooo—” “If you want family you gotta be family, Jack.”
You whine, but you don't mind this at all. Mikey sees you. Mikey knows you; probably better than he should. He knows you always need something to do.
“Pork?” “Pork.” “Fine.” It's your recipe, so you must oblige.
He's good. Mikey is good. Mikey pays attention. Mikey's made the cycle break in a way that doesn't hurt.
Carmen needs to apologize to Richie, for never taking his stress over running front of house seriously.
Carmen hates being out front already and he’s only just stepped out. Why is everyone looking at him out here, too? He should also apologize for whatever he said forty minutes ago. Thirty-five? Doesn’t matter. What’s important is handing this dessert tray to the fucking jagoff. The man who Carmen dreamed of becoming, the man who he’s now scared he’s become. David Fields. Former Executive Chef. Too many accolades to list.
“Dessert is served, hope you enjoy, Chef.” Carmen manages to bite his tongue for this guy, so why can’t he do it for the people he actually gives a fuck about? He’s a fucking coward. He swallows, setting the dessert paddle down in front of the stupid five fucking guests. Far too big a party, for a fucking walk in. And all they got for dessert was the fucking tasting paddle? Why are they skimping now? Assholes. All of them. Carmen knows all of these people. Well. Knows their faces. Remembers working with them, but never really talked to any of them. Why would he? He was focused. He was good.
“Thank you, Chef.” Says David. It feels like lightning, to hear those words. But not in a good way. It should feel like an accomplishment, to hear this guy say anything remotely positive, to Carmen, but it doesn’t. It feels the opposite, honestly. Feels like something’s wrong. Getting this guy’s approval is wrong.
This is the part where Carmen is supposed to leave. This is the part where the server goes back to the kitchen and continues their job. But he can’t. He’s stuck in place. He’s back in front of the fire, and he’s not putting it out. Carmen swallows hard and his spit feels like glass all the way down his throat. His Exec stares at him, nearly coy— Like he knows. Like he can see the invisible snake coiling around Carmen. Like he knows that Carmen desperately has something to say.
“Let’s have it, Chef.” David goads.
Fuck it. Fuck everything, fuck it. Not like the night can get worse. “Can we step out, for a second, Chef?”
“Lookit this.” Mikey pivots his phone to you, for you to see a photo he's just been sent.
It's of… “What the fuck is that?” You've got no clue. Some weird spiralling array of colours.
“I've no fucking clue. Food? Apparently?”
It's April, and Mikey has let you in. You will not realize how big a deal this is until it's too late. But right now, you're just happy to be hanging out with him before open. Without your dad, too.
Their most frequent regular’s favourite chair broke, one of the legs just fully gave out underneath him. It's an easy fix. Mikey could probably do it himself. Fak or whatever the fuck his name is could absolutely do it himself. Mikey called you, instead. Called you. Not your dad. You think this'll be your first and last solo job. Naive.
“Carmy?” You assume, he's the only person that's on that rich people shit. Michelin Star Chef, baby boy with big dreams.
“Yessir. He’s still killin’ it.” Is all Mikey says, tucking his phone away. You frown at him, screwing the chair leg in, sitting on the floor. He groans. “Don't gimme those eyes, Jack.”
“You should reply!”
“He doesn't need a fuckin' reply.”
You tilt your head, the look you give him translates to ‘Are you forreal?’
He just sighs, exasperated. “You don't get brothers, Jack.”
“I literally have brothers, Michael.”
“Yeah but it's—” He gestures to the general air, attempting to explain nothing. “It's different. We communicate different.”
“Sure.” You can admit that. “I'm sure the dynamic is very different brother to brother, brother to sister. But like—” You jiggle the chair leg, alright maybe it's not that easy of a fix. “It sucks bein’ the baby, I know that much.”
“You're the baby?”
“Yeah, why?” You lift your head from the chair back to him. “I got middle child energy? I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”
“No, no— Oldest.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Thought you were one of me, Jack. My own blood.”
You scoff. But it’s not something you haven’t heard before. You’ve got the blood of people who’ve had to take care of people. “Well, being the only sister kinda made me the oldest sister.”
You pad your hand around the floor, searching, before looking up to Michael, again. “You see the fuckin—?”
He tosses you the chair leg cap, before you can finish asking for it. “You’d like Nat. Similar ideologies.”
“I would love to know how your younger sister fuckin’ survived you, that’s for sure.”
He laughs, at that. “She’s a trooper. Surrounded by some of the worst men Chicago has to offer.” He looks at the coffee that you painstakingly crafted for him, this morning. “This is actually kinda fuckin’ good, Jack.”
“Do you have to add actually and kinda?”
He rolls his head back, neck straining. “For what you had, it’s fuckin’ perfection, alright? Happy?”
“Fuckin’ delighted.” You throw the chair up onto its legs, and it stands. “You?”
He gets up from his seat to try out the chair. He takes the coffee with him. There’s a split second where you’re scared that actually this was too hard a job for you and Mikey is going to fall and the hot coffee is going to careen everywhere and fucking scald him and you told him he needed to get a first-aid kit in here but he hasn’t gotten around to it yet—
Mikey sits, and the chair works. He takes another sip of your chai coffee blend, like a vote of his confidence. He never had any doubt you could get the coffee machine to work, never had any doubt you could make a good coffee, never had any doubt you could get the chair to stand strong. Mikey has always always believed in your capabilities, even when you haven’t, and has always been happy to prove yourself to yourself. Mikey is really good at being an older brother, you think. And forget that he never texted back the real baby of his real family.
“Fuckin’ delighted, Jackie.”
“Never fuckin’ call me Jackie.”
“Heard.”
Two executive chefs stand in front of a restaurant, there’s probably a joke in here somewhere. Carmen doesn’t care to find it. He watches your car drive out onto the road, out of the corner of his eye. That’s it, then. You’re gone. He fishes a pack of cigarettes out from the chest pocket of his chef’s uniform.
“You should quit.” Says David, so high and fucking mighty. As if he doesn’t house a bottle of wine daily.
“I’m aware.” Carmen lights it anyways. You don’t smoke. Did his mouth taste bad, every time he’d kiss you? Probably. You probably just bore it for his sake. Maybe that’s why you so rarely went for his lips. He takes a puff, it doesn’t calm him down.
“Your hair is fucked.”
“And the food?”
“Busy. You can lose the basil and eggplant. You’ll re-learn.” David tilts his head, thinking, smarmy. “Someone got in your head.”
“Someone other than you, yeah.”
“Awe.” David smiles, something he so rarely did in the kitchen, but perfected in public. His tone is so perfectly pouty, like it’s disappointing he’s not the only one living rent free in Carmen’s brain anymore.
Carmen steadies his eyes forward, to the street. He cannot look his own personal nightmare in the eyes, but he can say what he’s always wanted to say. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”
“How am I an asshole?” “Can you stay ‘til after close?” “You’re welcome.”
Carmen turns his head to face him now, eyes wide like plates. “I— I’m welcome? For—For-for what?”
“You were an okay chef, when you started with me.” David doesn’t fear eye contact. David’s probably never had a bad day in his fucking life. “And you left an excellent chef, so you’re welcome.”
Carmen’s never even heard the fucking word excellent come out of this man’s mouth. Let alone to describe him. It doesn’t feel good, for some reason. It still doesn’t feel good to receive praise from him, despite the fact that he’s everything.
“You…” Carmen needs a second, to catch his breath. He probably should quit smoking. “You gave me ulcers, and panic attacks, and— and nightmares— You— You know that? You understand that?”
“Yeah.” David’s entirely unfazed. All he’s heard is a list of benefits, in his head. “I gave you confidence and leadership and ability— It fucking worked.”
Is this what it working is supposed to feel like? Is this what it feels like to function? Is this what it means, to make it? If it is, then what the fuck does not making it feel like?
“I’m— I’m, I’m— I’m actually fuckin’ stunned, right now, I—” Carmen rubs his hands over his eyes. “My life stopped.”
“That’s the point.”
“That’s the point?”
“You wanted to be excellent. You got rid of all the bullshit, you concentrated, you focused— And you got excellent. And it worked. You’re here.”
You’re not bullshit. You’re not bullshit and he shouldn’t have done whatever he did to make you leave. Carmen is anything but excellent, without the people behind him, and he’s realizing that now. He’s an idiot, because you told him this, the second day of knowing him you told him this. He has a wonderful team— A family— A family he now considers you a part of. And he tanked all of it, everyone— Why? Because he had a bad fucking day? Because a dish got sent back? Because he fucked up tremendously? Boo-fucking-hoo, Carmen. It takes an idiot like David, who thinks he’s a genius, for Carmen to realize they look exactly the fucking same— And that is the actual thing that’s mortifying, tonight.
The real mortifying thing, isn’t that you were so fucking sweet and considerate of his stupid fucking brain and his stupid insane aspirations— It isn’t your dish. The mortifying thing is he prioritized the man in front of him, in any regard. It’s mortifying that Carmen made you feel like you had to prioritize the man in front of him.
“I just— I just made the—The only fuckin’ good thing in my life leave because— Because you got in my fucking head.”
David just raises his brows, like Carmen’s fucking stupid. Like there’s not a problem here. Because to him, there isn’t. And once again, the stupid fucking Exec repeats. “You’re welcome?”
“I’m—” The door opens, and for a moment, despite the fact that he watched your car disappear minutes ago, Carmen still thinks there’s a chance it’s gonna be you; begs a higher power that it’s going to be you. It’s not. It’s Richie.
“Hey asshole—” Richie stops, when he sees David. “Ah. You’re needed, Chef Carmen.”
“Cousin— You’re needed, pronto.”
“Not your Cousin.”
“Heard and resented.”
Richie’s had a habit of calling you cousin, lately. You pull your head out of the back of the Ball-Breaker arcade machine. Its controls are allegedly on the fritz, but you’re pretty sure Chi-Chi just sucks at this game. “Whaddya need? Do I have to run front a-fucking-gain?”
That was a fun out of nowhere three hour shift with zero restaurant experience— Par for bar. It will not be the last.
“Nono— Just a cuppa coffee? More like six.”
You kiss your teeth, tutting him. “You know how the fuckin’ machine works—”
“Want your coffee?” He corrects, like stroking your ego will make you fold. It does. You stand up, stretching your legs.
“Fine. Just get me a list of everyone’s—” He slaps a folded note against your forehead. “Orders.”
“Fucker.” You take it off your head to read. “Whatta ‘bout Mikey’s?” He’s missing from the list.
Richie shrugs. “Surprise him, he’s out back— In one of his moods.”
You don’t know how uncommon it is for Mikey to be so out of it. You’re meeting Mikey during his slow but certain downward spiral, but you don’t know that. No. How could you? No, so you think it’s normal for Mikey to occasionally leave rooms and turn inward.
“Aye aye, Rich.”
He kisses your temple as you pass him, making an all too aggressive ‘muah’ noise, because that’s what fake Italians do, as a form of thanks, and lets you go work your magic on the coffee machine.
You’re pretty integrated into The Beef, at this point. How long has it been? You don’t really need this list of orders, but it’s good to visually ingrain in your brain. You’re thankful to Mikey for investing in a bunch of Torani’s syrups for your coffee dreams. You’re here enough for it to be worth it, anyways.
You’re probably gonna start being here a lot more, soon. Well, maybe.
You haven’t told anyone yet, about what your dad told you this morning. That he’s gotta retire, soon. Like soon, soon. Now, you’re faced with a decision— Keep going with this EMS thing until your body fails and you need to be wheeled out by your own coworkers, or take on ownership of a small family business directly after the fucking pandemic. Really good options, here.
You’re leaning towards the latter, at the moment. You’re leaning towards being called here, for half your jobs. It’d be hard to make ends meet on just whatever crack change Mikey is able to pay you— But you used to bartend in college— You could work dailies whenever you’re short. Probably. It probably won’t be that hard. Could it be harder than what you’re doing now? Could it be harder than watching someone flat line? Probably not.
Ebra, watered down black coffee. T, two sugars, one milk, cinnamon and chocolate syrup. Marcus, spiced coffee. Sweeps, water in a deli cup— A delicacy. Richie, two sugars, cinnamon syrup, ideally boiling hot.
But to be fair, people need someone like you. People need paramedics. Is it selfish for you to decide you can’t handle it anymore? Should you let your body break before you let yourself go on one? Fuck. Fuck. Where’s Mikey? You’re feeling the knots build up again.
Out back. Richie said he’s out back. You pick up your coffee, and Mikey’s— cinnamon and caramel, this time— And head out back.
And you see a sight that you’ve actually seen plenty of times.
You’ve just never seen it in the back alley of The Beef. You’ve just never seen it happen to a friend. You’ve just never seen it happen to Mikey. You don’t drop your coffee cups in some sort of dramatic shock, or anything like that. Because that would take time. It’d take too much time to be shocked. You just turn around, immediately, partially crashing into the door as you run back in, breaking the mugs and spilling scalding hot coffee over your hands and chest— You don’t feel it, you don’t give a fuck.
“Cousin!”
You’re a mom friend. That’s what Syd used to say. You carry Tums, painkillers, cough drops, pepto— All in your purse or pockets. You keep a lighter on hand. You keep safety pins— All ranging in size, just in case of a clothing mishap. You keep kid’s band-aids in your wallet. You’re a mom friend. Everyone used to find you also carrying a naloxone kit a bit dramatic, like you were overdoing it. You always hoped they were right; that it would never be used. Regardless, you'd always replace it when it expired.
“Cousin get my fucking bag, now!”
“Right.” Carmen’s honestly kind of surprised, to be needed. But it’s probably just cover, to talk. People don’t typically need people like him, especially not Richie. He nods to David. “Chef.”
“Chef.” David nods back. He looks at Richie. “Where’d your translator go?”
The fuck? Richie does not look phased, at all. He also looks like he’s been crying— So it might just be that nothing phases him, right now— But at the very least, Carmen would expect some surprise. So this disrespect must not be new. Why didn’t he tell him?
Maybe he did, actually. Maybe that’s what happened forty minutes ago? How’d that lead to you leaving?
“My what?” Richie knows exactly what David’s getting at, but he asks anyways, to embarrass the fucker.
But David doesn’t feel embarrassment, it’s just not in him. “Your somme.”
“She had to leave early.”
“Ah,” He nods, “You’ve got her number, by chance?”
A deep and sharp exhale, through Richie’s nose, as he desperately tries to be a good host. Tries to be star material. But he runs his tongue across his top teeth and he just can’t bring himself to bite it. Richie hates both of the men in front of him right now. “I do, I do, actually— I’ve had her number for three years, memorized, y’know why?”
David shrugs, delighted to upset someone. “She your wife or something?”
A sharp, terrifying chuckle, honestly— One that hides any sign of a smile. Rich steps forward. “Oh, I should be so lucky. I would be so fucking lucky, if a woman like that—” And he pivots his head, to speak very deliberately, to Carmen. “Decided for some Godforsaken fuckin’ reason, that I was worth an ounce of her precious time— Let alone her hand.”
“If only, truly, David.” Still looking at Carmen, squarely in his face. “If fuckin’ only. If I had someone like that— I’d be on hand and fucking knee, for her.”
“Chef.” Carmen’s talking to David but looking at Richie, but that might also be because he can’t look anywhere else.
“Chef.” David shrugs, whatever fight here is beyond him. He doesn’t fucking care. Carmen knows the Michelin thing was bullshit���Certainly David can put in a good word, but inspectors are anonymous, that’s the whole point. But his stupid fucking Exec wanted to see if Carmen would stoop so low as to take the bait. It also wouldn’t hurt to get your number, you’re perfect. Carmen doesn’t think he’d have taken the bait, but the fact that he’s not sure speaks volumes.
David steps back into The Bear, and an Executive Chef and his dead brother’s best friend stand outside their restaurant. There’s a joke in here somewhere, and it’s probably Carmen.
“I’d fucking kill him.” You shake your head, when Mikey tries to brush off the end of his story like it’s no big deal. “I can’t believe no one fuckin’ said anything.”
“They might’ve.” He sniffs, arms crossed— Guarding himself. He sits opposite of you, both sitting on the floor of his office, backs against either wall. “But I couldn’t fuckin’ hear anything but him— And then the fucking car, obviously.”
You can tell he’s trying to move on. He wants you to ask if his mom was okay. You don’t honestly care, and you don’t care if that makes you a bad person, either.
“You’re not nothing, Mikey.”
It’s close to midnight, a humid but cool August midnight. A week or so, since Mikey’s overdose. You’re finally christening your jumpsuit with a patch from The Beef, on the left shoulder. You do keep stabbing yourself with the sewing needle— If you were sleeping beauty you’d be fucking dead.
“I know.”
“Mikey, you’re not.”
“Don’t fucking Good Will Hunting me.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” You both laugh, but you’re still stuck with him, at that dining table, in your head. You’re still hearing Uncle Lee screaming, despite never actually hearing it. “They should’ve said something.”
“It’s different when you’re there.” He shrugs, again. “Hard to speak in those rooms.”
Your lips stay tight, for a moment. There’s a long silence of just staring at each other, because you want him to know that you’re completely serious when you say— “I would’ve said something.”
“Sug tried to say somethin—” “She told you to stop, that’s bullshit.” “She was mediating—”
“And why the fuck were you the one that needed to calm down, exactly?” You frown, deeply. You don’t have anything against Sug, but this story just rubs you the wrong way. The way no one was on his side verbally. “Just cause you’re the guy, means you can’t stick up for yourself? I hate that shit.”
He thinks on that, for a moment; because no one has ever said the thing out loud, never acknowledged it. He nods, tucking one knee up to rest an arm on it. “It sucks, being the guy.”
“It fucking sucks to be the guy!” You shout back, emphatic, practically jumping to agree— You jab yourself again. “Fuck, ow— Yes, it sucks.”
“And—” You’ve really opened a faucet for him. “And no one wants you to acknowledge that you’re the guy— Like you can take the compliment, but you can never say ‘I know, I’m doing it on purpose.’”
You poke at the tip of your nose with one hand and then to Mikey with the other, bang on. “No one wants the guy to know they’re the guy!”
“We always know!” “We always fucking know!” “We’re the guy on purpose!”
It’s rare for people like you two to talk and actually get along. The typical stereotype is that two sweethearts will always end up butting heads, too intimidated— But instead, you’re both just able to honestly commiserate over being who you are. The Guy. The Dependable One. The Head.
“You shouldn’t have to always be good and—and like, understanding of every single fucking person— Especially when they’re a dick!” You yell, exasperated. “You are allowed to fucking stick up for yourself!”
He tightens his lips in a line, because he agrees, but he has been so trained to lay down and take it. To take the teeth; it’s one of the many many jobs of being the guy. You know it just as well. He sighs, “I know.”
“You’re worth standing up for, Mikey.” You emphasize. They should’ve said something. It shouldn’t have been on you. You shouldn’t have had to defend yourself. They should’ve protected you, like you did for them. Like you always do for them.
His eyes flicker, a bit. He clears his throat and punches his chest, shaking his head out of it, because if he doesn’t, he might actually fucking cry, and that’s not what the guy does. “Okay.”
You nod. “Okay.”
He kicks your foot with his. “Now tell me some fucked up thing that happened to you, Jack.”
You laugh, and it quickly turns into a groan as you try to come up with something. “I uh… Oh! I fuckin’ hate the nickname ‘Jack’, that’s something.”
“Oh?” He leans forward, teasingly intrigued— You’ve thrown him a bone, because you’re the guy, too. He’s able to focus on this in lieu of himself.
You nod and continue. “My dad gave it to me, when I was really really little, like five or six— And it was ‘cause I like— For a kid, I was really into uhm, like— Like everything?”
“Like a nerd?” “Like a nerd.”
You chuckle. “I liked helping him go on jobs, and barely being able to hold flashlights. And I liked learning what all the wires and the pipes do— I liked doing chores and like— Making shit for people, or doing shit for people, if it made ‘em happy.” You’re a little too zoned in, on your sewing. The motion helps keep you grounded. “And so he would go like Awe, my helpful little Jack of all Trades, you can do it all.”
You pull the string up and out of the fabric, taught, dramatically high. “Which like, of course he was trying to be like, a good dad and hype me up— But my kid brain just garbled it and translated ‘you can do it all’ to ‘you have to do it all.’”
“Damn.” He cringes but laughs, sympathizing. “You got ‘guy’d’ at fuckin’ five?”
“Well, when did you get ‘guy’d?!” You snap back, he takes a moment to think about it, sighing.
He shrugs. “Probably five.” “Exactly!”
You both laugh, a bit too aggressively, honestly; compensating for the sting. Mikey sniffs, adding. “So that’s why you hate it? ‘Cause of the weight?”
“‘Cause of the weight.” You nod. “Like a constant reminder, that I need to be like— constantly at service.”
“Yeah.” He nods, eyes looking down. Thinking about far too much, and though you have become his closest confidant, there are still parts of him that he won’t show. “Drinking helped?”
“Drinking helped.” You close the last stitch on the patch. “Which is funny, because that whole thing started from wanting to be helpful.”
“Oh yeah? How’s that?”
“There was uhm—” You can’t help but laugh a little, at the ridiculousness of it. “There was this girl, and she was my best friend, and she fucking loved— Or I guess still loves— Cooking. And even as a dinky little highschooler, she’d have me try shit, and it’d be like— So luxe.”
“Right.” Mikey smiles, thinking of all the dishes that have been foisted on him by the precocious cook in his life.
“And I wanted to be like… equally impressive. So I started doing research on wine pairings and shit, so I could have something to talk to her about, have somethin’ to say other than wow great job— Because I could tell she always wanted more.”
“And so you became an alcoholic?” “I haven’t gotten there yet!” “Well stop burying the lead!” “Oh don’t you point a finger when it comes to burying a fucking lead.” “Oh, fuck you.”
“Anyways!” You clap a hand on your knee, casting aside the completed sew job. “I’d give her pairings based on research— still teens, so we couldn’t drink yet, but she appreciated the thought. And then I went to college and she went to CIA and we were talking and then we graduated and suddenly we weren’t…” You knock your fist against your hand a couple times. “We weren’t talking, anymore.”
“And so you became an alcoholic?” “Kinda.” “Oh. I was being sarcastic.” “Yeah, dontchu feel guilty as fuck now?” “What happened?”
“It was easy.” You shrug. “I started working at pubs in college, I was getting free drinks all the time, I was trying more wines for her— I didn’t really see it as a problem, because like, I didn’t do it to function, I never reached for anything like ‘oh I fucking need this.’”
“That’s how it starts.”
“That’s how it fuckin’ starts.” You nod. “Then suddenly we weren’t talking and I became an E-M-T, and then suddenly I was watching people y’know, live through the worst moment of their lives or die, and I— Suddenly I did need that drink.” You should’ve just called her. She would’ve done a lot more for you than a bottle could. But you were stupid and tired, and still are.
“Who coulda thunk it?” “I know! Ridiculous.”
“How long you been stable, again?”
“Six months, four days… But who’s counting?” You laugh, and so does he.
You’re both very literally counting. And the buzzer of a timer going off on your phone reminds you of that. You both stare at it, in a daze, as it officially hits Twelve in the morning. Once you silence it, you look to Mikey.
“Michael The Bear Berzatto, you have officially been sober for twenty-four hours.”
He smiles, no teeth, but he smiles. “Gimme.”
“Be patient!” “I am being the most patient a person can be.” “Yeah that’s fair.”
You opt to go for the cupcake first, a big One candle sticking out of it. “This is stupid.” Says Mikey. “Have some fucking whimsy in the face of adversity.” Says you, pulling out your disposable camera.
“Do we need photos?” “What the fuck else are we gonna put in my folder?” “I dunno, write me sonnets.”
“Do you want sonnets?” You ask, and the worst part is Michael can tell you’re being sincere. You would write him sonnets, if he only asked. You would do anything, if he only asked. You quit being an EMT, immediately after seeing the state he was in, last week. You are here for Michael, and he only has to ask.
He shakes his head and blows out the candle when you lift the cupcake to his face, and he makes a wish to whatever higher power exists, that he won’t drag you down with him.
You thread a 24 Hours in Recovery chip onto the embroidery thread you were using and tie it off. When you present it to him, he bends his head down. “Chip me.”
“That’s not what chip me means.” “It means something?” “I’m pretty sure chipping someone means shooting someone—” “Well Google it, Chip.” “Well, fuck, ok— Chip?”
He shrugs, “Better than Jack, no?”
You throw the necklace over his neck, like you’re knighting him. You grow a great degree softer. Even when he’s deliberately not supposed to be The Guy, when he’s supposed to be working on himself, he’s still your guy. Still looking out for you just as much as you look out for him. He will never realize that you consider the exchange equal.
“Yeah, better than Jack.”
“This sobriety thing is going to be easy.” “ —Okay, so— The thing is, everyone kinda says that after twenty-four hours and then a week or two in, it actually hits—” “It’s gonna be so easy.” “I love that you think that and I want you to keep that hope up, I also think maybe let’s just be easy on ourselves if it gets hard—” “It’s not gonna get hard.” “That’s what she said—” “Fucking gross!”
He throws his arm over your shoulder, a loving noogie, but a noogie nonetheless. You try to hit him from below, it’s a failed flailing. You both start laughing and he stops, opting to just hold you there. You hold his forearm with your hands, and sigh.
“...Even when it’s not easy, we’re on the same team, okay? Don’t forget that. That we’re on the same team and I love you.”
He squeezes you a little, bicep curling. In fifteen seconds you will complain that he’s choking you, but right now, he says, “I’m not gonna forget you love me, Chip.” and neither of you know this is a lie, yet.
“I’m sorry.” Carmen sniffs, is he actually going to cry? Holy shit, he might cry. “I don’t know what I said—”
“You don’t know what you said?” Richie scoffs, he can’t help but laugh. “You don’t know what you fuckin’ said? Ah— It’s— It’s all good, man. You don’t know what you said, so it’s all good—”
“I’m apologizing—” “Nonono— No— It’s all good, I don’t need a fuckin’ apology. I know how you feel now, so it’s all fuckin’ good.”
“I love you—” “You love me? You love me? Oh, that would’ve been nice to hear half a fucking hour ago.”
Has it really only been thirty minutes?
“No— No, you know what?” Richie takes a choked breath, pressing his index finger over his nose and mouth, then points it to Carmen. “If that’s what your fuckin’ love is— I don’t fuckin’ want it. And I don’t want that shit for Chip, either— So leave her the fuck out of your fuckin’ love or whatever the fuck you think that is, too.”
That one hurts, because it’s true. Carmen can’t say anything to that; the silence just eggs Richie on more. “Oh, was that a low blow, to you? Cause I’d say saying it was her fault was a pretty low fucking blow— Kinda below the belt shit, if you ask me—”
“What?”
A silence louder than anything either of them have ever heard hangs in the air.
“Fuck you mean what?”
“I said what?” Carmen’s spit still feels like glass, he is destroying his throat. “What—What did I say?”
Stunned, Richie is stunned. And he can’t tell if Carm’s lack of cognizance in the situation makes him more or less angry. He’s pretty sure it’s more. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
“Cousin, what the fuck did I say to her?”
“You said she failed him.”
Yeah, Carmen’s gonna cry. Carmen is absolutely going to cry. Not weeping, but a tear. Just the one. Just the one, and the dry heaving. The dry heaving and just short of falling over, managing at the last minute to fall onto his rear. He slides his back against the full length window of The Bear. All the guests will get to witness his full blown meltdown. Who fucking cares. He cards through his semi-matted hair, again— It’s not fucking working. It’s not working and he might as well tear his hair out because there’s no reason for it anymore if you're not in it.
“I am a monster.” Not said like a question, not said with emphasis, not choked. Completely monotone. Zero pulse. Said as a fact as simple as the sky is blue. And it is. Because now that he remembers that one thread, he can follow it back. “I am bullshit.”
It’s hard to kick someone, when they’re down. It’s hard to say all the things you want to say to a person, when they’re just saying it about themselves. Richie just stares, debating his options. He could so easily choose to destroy what’s left of Carmen. Frankly, Carm’s sitting at the perfect angle to kick his fucking teeth in. Richie came out here with full intent of throwing Carmen through the window. Came out here with the full intent of proving he’s a fucking problem.
“...I don’t know how to fix it.” But Carmen looks up at him, with a never before seen level of humility. “How do I fix it?”
His best friend loved this guy, and unfortunately you also seem to be on the verge of loving this guy. And even more regrettably, Richie loves this guy. He shrugs, and to any onlookers, his response would seem to be lacking any level of empathy.
“Stop being you.”
“You don’t love me!”
“Of course we fuckin’ love you!”
“You don’t fucking love me!”
Like tidal waves, Richie and Mikey crash against either side of the walk-in freezer door. Mikey desperately trying to escape the freezer; you and Richie desperately trying to keep him in.
Your phone rings, in the middle of this. “Ah, shit, she’s calling back, hold on—” You slide your back off the door slowly, giving Richie time to place extra weight where your body was to keep it closed as Mikey relentlessly slams. He’s pivoted to screaming like— Well, a bear, now.
You move just a few feet away— Enough to fog up the yelling, but not enough that you couldn’t run back to Richie if his arms start to numb.
“Yo, T.” You answer, thankful that somebody has finally returned your fucking calls. To be fair, it’s painfully early— But how is no one awake an hour before they have to clock in? C’mon.
“We’re doing this because we love you, fuckin’ numb nuts!”
“Don’t be fuckin’ mean when he’s in a vulnerable state!” You kiss your teeth, yelling to Richie behind you, just as Tina tries to say hi.
“I am not a fucking patient, Chip!” Another slam, another violent jiggling of the door handle. You’re pretty sure that shit is going to break off one day, if he keeps doing that. You don’t know how right you are now, but you will in a year or so. “Open the fucking door!”
You only remember you’re on the phone with Tina when she pipes up, vaguely hearing the yelling on her end. “...Two week milestone going well?”
“Just fucking peachy, T.” You grimace, rubbing the space between your brows. “You think it’s healthy to lock him in the freezer? I feel like we are fucking this up.”
“Why’s he in the freezer?”
“Guess who was—” You turn your head to Richie, when you speak into the phone. “So fucking stupid— And left his fucking xanax just out in the open with his unfinished breakfast?”
“I apologized—” “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, Cousin! Now open the fucking door!”
“Yeah, I think freezer is the right call.” Says Tina; you’re both not sure if that’s true, but at the very least when he’s in there he can’t hurt himself or either of you. But fuck, he must be cold. Maybe that’s good for his nervous system? Every yell just mounts with guilt— But you’re his sponsor now. You are not his friend right now, you’re his mentor and you’re meant to do this. This is definitely— slam— the right thing—scream—to do.
“Yeah, probably.” You nod, to no one. “Well, basically, if you can let everyone know to just— Not fucking come in, today, or at the very least not come in for like— At least three hours. Maybe six. It’s not like you can work anyways, the freezer’s off limits until further notice.”
“You sure you don’t need us to come in?”
“Ah, T, that’s a nice thought but—” You wince, as you hear a crash from inside the walk-in. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse, for more people to witness this.”
Richie can tell what the crash is, because he himself has dropped shit an innumerable number of times in that walk-in before. “—Did you just knock over the fuckin’ stock—” “Fuck yourself! Fuck yourself! This is my fucking restaurant! Let me the fuck out, Richard!”
“Let’s just say call me back in three hours.” Is what you settle on. You don’t want to see this, and you don’t want anyone else to have to see this. And when Mikey eventually comes out of his rage state, he will be glad that the only two people that actually saw him like this, are his two closest friends. “Can you let everyone else know?”
“Yeah baby, I’ll let ‘em know.” First time Tina’s called you baby with sincerity instead of sarcasm, you wish you could savour it, but you’re so distracted with everything else that you really don’t even notice it. “Keep yourself safe too, alright?”
“Okay, Mama.” You reply with what is really only half sarcasm, and let her go. You sidle up to Richie, back on holding the door closed duty. Backs against the walk-in door, holding Mikey in, despite punch after punch after punch. He’ll wear himself out, eventually, but you’re terrified about how long that’s going to take. So is Richie.
He nods to your phone. “How long?”
You don’t need to check to know. “In six hours, he’ll be at two weeks.” You wince as one of Mikey’s hits against the door very directly targets your back, putting it in knots. “But it’s not like he’s suddenly going to go, oh well it’s been two weeks so I’m normal now, though.”
Richie just nods, pensive. “M’sorry.”
You shake your head. “I was just bein’ a bitch, we’re all getting used to it, I gettit, just try to be safer.”
He nods again, looking down at you as the beating seems to slow down. Richie tries to imagine a world where you two aren’t here right now; for some reason, he finds that universe more miserable. “We’re so fucked.” Because here it’s you two. You’re so fucked but it’s you two. It will take more than a year for you to figure out that’s how Richie feels.
“I know.” You punch back against the door, alerting Mikey— Not that he wasn’t already alert, and speak to both of them. “Same team, though!”
One last resounding body slam into the door, with everything Mikey has— It moves, just a bit, but not at all enough to open it. And then, a long silence. To the point where you and Richie look at each other, worried if Michael has somehow just died in there. But then a quiet voice speaks, like a white flag being raised.
“Same team.”
You look to Richie for permission, he’s just as clueless as you are here, as to what the right call is. With the most trepidation one could have, you put your hand on the handle and just start to pull on it, not even close to opening it. But Mikey notices the way the hinge moves by a hair, on the other side.
“Don’t open it.” You know he’s up to the door, just opposite of you. Not capable of looking at you; not capable of looking at him. “Six hours. It’s just six hours.”
But you can hear each other. And maybe that’s all you really ever needed. To be able to hear each other, even when he’s not here.
“Six hours. Same team.”
“I don’t know how.” Carmen’s nose twitches. “I don’t know how to stop being fucking—Garbage— I’ve tried—” “Have you?”
It’s a bit knife twisting, from Richie, but necessary. “Have you done the work? Cause it’s— I don’t think you have, Carm.”
“...What the fuck kinda work can I do, to fix me—?” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen, interrupting him. “That— That is the exact fuckin’ problem with you, Cousin.”
Carmen almost rolls his eyes, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “What, that I’m self-aware?”
“That you just fuckin’ give up.” “I don’t just give up—” “You do! You give up and you go wah, I’m a Chef with issues and I’m gonna make it everyone else’s fucking problem—” “I am asking for help—” “Are you? Because the last person that helped you just ran out crying.”
Richie exhales, eyes closed. There’s a long forced silence, as a few tables full of patrons exit The Bear, awkwardly shuffling past what is clearly a crisis between the people that have been serving them tonight.
“That was below the belt, I’ll admit.” Says Rich, once they’re out of earshot.
Carmen just shakes his head, though he cannot look at Richie, though he can’t refute anything.
Richie steps next to where Carmen sits, and like an olive branch, Carmen lifts up his arm to offer his cigarette. Richie accepts, thank God— Thank you, for softening him up, because if you hadn’t, again, Carmen would be going headfirst through the fucking window right now.
“Don’t yell ‘t me—” That honestly hurts more than getting thrown through a window. “But I don’t think you got Andrea, at all.”
Andrea? Oh. “Chef Terry?” The Ever’s owner, Richie means.
“Andrea.” Richie nods, taking a puff. “Every second counts— I don’t think you got it.”
Carmen just shrugs, shaking his head, sure, he worked there for years and Richie worked there for days, but sure, he’s the one that didn’t get it. “Yeah? What’d I miss?”
“It’s not meant to make you fuckin—” He gestures to the general form of Carmen. “Tweak. It’s not about speed or— or— like firin’ off on all fuckin’ cylinders.”
“Then what is it?”
“It counts because it counts.” Richie hands the cig back to Carmen. “It’s— The fucking—” He kisses his teeth, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “When you took like, a million goddamn years to make that fuckin’ mont— Mont— What was it?”
“Montmorency.” Your cherry sauce. Carmen spent too fucking long reducing it, yesterday. He redid it like five times. He’d redone it so many times the autopilot in his brain fucked up that fucking plate yesterday, and it threw his entire life into a spiral. No. That's not what happened. He threw his life into a spiral.
“That was worth it, cause it— Cause it took time. Does that— Am I making any fuckin’ sense? Terry did this shit better, fuck.” Richie rubs a hand over his face, you’d probably be able to explain this better too. “It’s not the thing you’re doing that makes it count, it counts because you’re doing it.”
The value is in the time, not what is delivered. It does not need to be the most special, hyper condensed, hyper focused, upper echelon second to count. It will count because it counts. Time spent is worth it, no matter what was bought. Every second you spend, will always count. All the work and the not work and the love and the not love— It all counts. It counts because it counts. You care therefore you care. Any effort made is good effort.
Why does Carmen keep taking eons to learn what you are always trying to tell him?
The door opens, again. Instead of more patrons, Syd steps out— Wondering where the fuck her Exec and Host have gone. “Are we good?”
“No.” Says her Exec and Host. She nods, that’s good, cause she’s not good either.
“Who’s runnin’ house?”
“No one.” Lies Syd, Tina’s running the back, Sweeps is running the front, but she wants to freak Carmen out a little. She grabs the cigarette from Richie. “Burn the money, I say.”
“So, what you’re asking me to do— If I’m understanding, correctly, which— I might not be— You want me to take all my money, okay, and place it in a fucking furnace? Is that right?”
“So I’m sensing—” You curl your hand in the air. “A touch of hostility, which is fair.”
Bargaining with Uncle Jimmy isn’t the easiest thing in the world— Especially when this is your first time meeting him— And you’re begging him for money. Well, helping Mikey beg him for money.
“Listen, Uncle, please.” Mikey swallows, leaning in, elbows on the table. It’s nearly the end of January. New year, fresh start. No better time to pitch a half-baked pipe dream in the middle of The Beef’s dining room. “It’s not like I’m brand new to the restaurant gig— We turn profit, here, we can fuckin’ pay people.”
“Can you pay me?” “We will—” “Or you could just let me cut my losses—” “I wanna do something real, Uncle.”
“Why’s she here, again?” You shrink, when Cicero points at you. You swallow.
“I’m here as… Proof… That he wants to do something real.” You have to stop yourself from doing jazz hands, doubling down on the awkwardness will not make it go away, that is sadly not how that works.
Jimmy stares, for a moment, the cogs in his brain almost audibly whirring, as he stares at the space between you and Mikey, where you sit, at the other side of the booth. “Are you having a fuckin’ baby or somethin?”
The visceral reaction from your side of the booth is immediate. The worst part is he’s not even the first one to ask something like this— No, the manager at Wells Fargo was.
“What the fuck!” “Come on, Uncle…” “Do I— Do I look like a Milf, what the fuck is going on—” “She could be my daughter!” “Alright— So that is a little far, but the sentiment—”
“Alright, shut the fuck up, what is so fucking real that I’m suddenly going to hack up—”
Mikey tosses his necklace onto the table. It shouldn’t be physically possible, because it’s on a string, but it still manages to roll for a comically long time, like a coin, over to Jimmy. To thine own self be true. One Month.
“You will not be giving your money to some fucking junkie, Uncle—”
You wave a hand, interrupting Mikey. “Verbiage.”
He swallows and nods, taking the note. A hard lesson to learn. “You will not be giving your money to— To— You— You’re gonna give your money to someone who is trying, alright?”
Uncle Jimmy hasn’t looked up from the chip since it landed; Mikey continues. “And— And I’m gonna bring Carmy on, and we’re gonna do like—Like high level shit. Like a real fuckin’ Michelin level—”
“How many times have you gotten to a month?”
“First time.”
Jimmy frowns, crossing his arms. “How many times have you tried getting to a month?”
“Five.” Michael says, “Six.” you correct. Christmas was hard. Christmas was extremely fucking hard. You weren’t with the Berzattos, upon Mikey’s request— And neither was Carmen, upon Mikey’s ignoring him completely. And that made things a little fucking hard.
Jimmy just nods, arms still crossed. He’s forming some sort of plan, in his head, you’re just not sure what it is yet. He looks to you. “So you’re his sponsor, then?”
“Yessir.” “Do you feel qualified to do that?” “No-sir.”
Mikey kicks you under the table, your proclivity for honesty is not doing a great job selling this whole restaurant idea. You kick him back. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to feel qualified.”
“You sober?” “Not really.” “Well that’s kind of a key factor, I’ve heard.”
You sigh and lean forward, putting your hands in your lap. This is Mikey’s Uncle— Well, is he, actually? Unsure. But he gives as much of a fuck as you do, so you spill your guts, because you know he’s poking because he’s worried that some kid is taking care of Mikey and it’s the blind leading the fucking blind.
“I’m stable. I drink, sometimes— But never more than one glass, and never multiple days in a row. I’m coming up on a year, I still attend A-A— Though not as often as I’m told I should— And I’ve told Mikey that turbulent month long benders and a full blown decade long opioid addiction are not the same thing and I really shouldn’t be his sponsor.”
Mikey leans forward as well, then, meeting your level. “And I told Chip— And our coord— That I won’t do the program without her.”
After a long moment of silence, taking his time to digest every bit of information, Jimmy nods to the folder on the table. “N’ this?”
“It’s like a… Proposal?” You look to Mikey for help, he shrugs. This motherfucker— You’re not even a stakeholder in this, why are you talking? You turn back to Jimmy. “It’s like a promise.”
You open the folder, there’s loose sketches you’ve put together of The Bear’s signage, plus Carmen’s original piece— It was fun and weird, to work off of an artist you’ve never met before. There’s also cut outs from the New York Time’s and Food and Wine magazine showing off his award winning talents.
“We make money now.” Mikey finally chimes in, crossing his arms. “Imagine what we could do with him.”
“It would be cool!” You wingman. A little too excited for someone who’s never even breathed in a Michelin restaurant. “It’d be cool to have, like, a fine-dining establishment on North Orleans.”
“Or you’d completely cut out the audience that already likes The Beef.”
Mikey defends, “The people don’t know what they like, yet.” while you spread out some more papers across the table, showing off screenshots of food Carmen’s texted, that Mikey has never replied to. “They will like this shit— It’s— It’s art, Uncle. When they see this, they won’t give a shit about sandwiches.”
“They’ll give a shit about the price.”
“Uncle, I’m the guy.” Mikey uncrosses his arms, straightening up his posture, because now it’s serious. “I can— We can do this.”
As you continue to spread out papers, Uncle Jimmy stops you, seeing a peculiar page in the pile. He points to it, so you fish it out and hand it to him. He squints. “Joint bank account?”
You nod. “It’s so I can keep an eye on his spending and withdrawals.” Mikey tries not to wince at the fact a kid is in charge of managing his finances. You try not to wince at the fact that despite managing his finances, he's still reset six times.
“Y’know banks are a fuckin’ scam, right?”
You do not entertain Jimmy for a second, finally losing your whimsy. Your leg is shaking underneath the table— Thank God these tables are bolted. “I know that this is the first time in twenty years that my best friend is keeping savings.”
Not just living paycheck to paycheck, anymore. Not spending every penny on painkillers, anymore. Mikey is saving up because now there is a future to spend it on. Cicero swallows, nodding, eyes looking down, thinking deeply.
When he speaks again, it’s to say the most insane thing you’ve ever heard. “Ten grand a week.”
Your reply is in sync with Mikey, both jumping forward in your seats. “What?”
“Every week.” Jimmy pushes the chip back to your side of the table. “Every week that you keep going, that’s ten grand.”
You flail your hand under the table, grabbing for Mikey’s— He does the same, and it’s like a contest for who’s going to break who’s hand first, with how hard you’re holding each other.
Mikey’s first to ask the question, “Is that… Starting now or starting since I—”
“I’m so glad you asked, fuck no, that’s starting now.” He points to you, now. You flinch. “You’re gonna piss test him every fuckin’ week. I’m not fucking around about this.”
“Right. Heard.” You can only nod, because if you express anything else, it might just be screaming forever and ever. He pivots back to Mikey.
“And it’s gonna be cash— It’s not going in that fuckin’ joint, aright?” “Heard.”
“...Alright. Deal.” Cicero comes forward in his seat, and shakes Mikey’s hand. And despite not being a stakeholder, he reaches for yours, too; you shake it, and after a moment, he ruins this excitement stirring in the room, moving out of the booth. “I gotta piss, now.”
When he leaves for the bathroom, Mikey leans his head to you, putting his chin on your shoulder, whispering, “Art of the deal.”
You push his face away immediately, laughing. “Shut the fuck up! Why did you make me lead that shit!?”
Tomorrow Mikey will relapse again, and you’ll reset his necklace for the seventh time, but you don’t know that yet. Carmen’s gonna be so excited, when he finally comes back to Chicago and gets a sober brother and his dream restaurant. You’re excited to meet the guy, one day. Fingers crossed he likes you.
“That was fucking nuts.” Sydney decides that’s the best way to surmise it. “Like more than usual.”
“I’m aware.” Carmen can only nod, and despite the fact that he’s just going to lie down and take this, it does not remove the bitter feeling in her heart at all. Syd’s fucking mad, and she wants him to know.
“I’ve— I’ve literally only ever seen her cry like, like during Pixar movies or when we graduated. Like she just— That’s not a thing she does. I, I’m so— I literally don’t know what the fuck to do, right now.” For a second, she thinks her vision is flickering. “Oh my god, am I finally having a stroke?”
The three restaurateurs look up to see their neon white logo of a bear’s head, flickering and occasionally buzzing out. Richie’s the first to speak, as they all blankly stare at it. “Who are we gonna call, f’this?”
If this was yesterday, or maybe even if this was an hour ago, it wouldn’t be a question as to who they’d call. Carmen scratches the back of his head, the flaking hair gel is getting itchy. “Ted?”
“Who’s Ted?” Asks Syd; that’s not Tony, Terry or Tommy.
“Ted Fak.” Richie and Carmen answer at once, she almost gasps.
“They’re multiplying?”
Richie rolls back into his memory. “There’s eight— No, fuck, nine of them— I always forget Avery.”
Sydney just nods and hugs her shoulders for warmth. They all keep staring at the flickering bear, like moths.
“I don’t—I don’t have anyone, except her, y’know?” Syd sniffs. “Like after my dad, it’s— it’s literally just her. She’s my best and only friend.”
Carmen presses the palms of his hands over his eyes, “Heard.”
“I don’t want to choose between her and my career.” Carmen thinks she’s pausing, so he waits, but she’s not talking. That was the end of the sentence.
“Heard.”
“If that’s what getting a star takes, I don’t want it.” That’s huge. That’s a big statement, from Syd of all people. That gets the men to turn their heads from the light to her.
Syd continues to stare at the flickering bear, which lights up the two single straight streams of tears perfectly. It’s silent. She’s not snivelling or anything, she just shakes her head in tight swivels, biting her inner cheek. “It’s just— it’s just not worth that.”
“How can I fix it?” Maybe Syd will have a better answer than Richie did, something a little more actionable. She finally flits her gaze from the light down to Carmen, where he sits.
“Can you stay after close?”
“—Nobody in this motherfucking city knows transit etiquette— Why does everyone get on and go ‘wow I love standing in the walkway’— I’m so— There was so much seating just ahead of the blockage, Mikey, I’m so pressed, I’m literally—” You massage your brows, finishing up your rant from this morning’s commute. “I can’t. I can’t.”
“If you weren’t a little passenger princess, this wouldn’t be a problem, Chippy.” “I have my fucking license! I just don’t have a car!” “Then buy one!” “With who’s money!?” “Mine?”
A terrible running joke, from Mikey, is telling you to spend his money— The money he gets from staying sober. The money he’s saving for The Bear. The reason why he thinks this is funny, is because you have no fucking idea where he’s been putting it. But you know he hasn’t spent it, so that’s all that really matters.
You just huff, leaning back against the wall of his office as you watch him work, arms crossed and cringing as he futzes with the wiring. “You’re going to light us up like a Roman fucking candle.”
“It’s Jewish lightning—” “Top twenty-thousand reasons we do not say that— Number One—” “It’s gonna work! Just trust me!”
Mikey’s office looks a lot more lively, lately. He never cleans up the mugs of coffee you give him, every morning. He says it’s his way of tracking which flavour is his favourite, since you’re always switching up. It will never change from the chai spiced blend, and you both know that. It’d be more accurate of him to say he likes the sticky notes you tack on to each mug, saying you love him and saying he needs to keep going.
“I could fix it, y’know.” At that, Mikey turns away from his distressing handiwork to look at you.
“I know. But I wanna prove I can, too.”
That hits you right in the chest. You want to tell Mikey that he never has to prove anything, with you; never has to lift a goddamn finger. But he would hate to hear that. “Okay.”
You hear from outside the office, the back door opening. “Child incoming, no expletives please!”
“What the fuck is an expletive?” Mikey asks you, whispering.
You whisper back, leaning forward off the wall to close in on him. “It’s what you just did.”
Eva runs in, the way that kids do— The way they kinda waddle. Immediately up to you and Mikey. Uncle Mike and Aunty Chip, she calls you both. Sometimes Uncle Jack— Because she hasn’t completely grasped the concept of gender yet— Good, no one should.
“Watch!” You have yet to even say hi, before she immediately attempts to do a cartwheel in the middle of this very small office.
“Good job, Evie!” You clap, after she just barely lands safely on her shins.
She nods, “Can you do that?”
“Honestly? I don’t think I can.” You look up from her to Mikey. “Can you?”
“Can I cartwheel?” He stumbles back, slapping his hand over his chest. Gutted. “Can I cartwheel? Eve— She doesn’t think I can cartwheel.”
“Insane, Uncle.”
“Not what I said!” You can’t hold back your laughter, what a shining this kid has taken to her dad. “I’d love to see it, I really would!”
Mikey just shakes his head, kissing his teeth. How dare you offend his honour, in this way? This forty-two year old man can absolutely cartwheel with the best of them. In five minutes he definitely isn’t gonna eat shit in the dining room of his restaurant. He pats Eva on the shoulder. “You go with your dad and clear out some tables out front, I’m gonna need space.”
“You’re gonna break your neck, Mike.” Richie chimes in, standing in the doorway now, waiting for Eva to return to him. “I don’t wanna plan your funeral.”
“Please, you would plan a terrible funeral.” “That’s bull—”
“Expletive!” You cover Eva’s ears. She just laughs, looking up at you with that cute and bizarre blank kid stare. What a little patoot.
Richie looks to you, forgetting the bit for a moment, “Y'need a grocery run, tonight?”
You nod, removing your hands from Eva, but then she holds them there. Goddamnit, kids are an awful idea but she's fucking cute. “Pay you gas money in the form of Wendy's?”
“Marone!” Richie exclaims, poorly, grabbing your face by the chin and top of your head to kiss your cheek just short of a million times. “The perfect woman—”
“Not Italian!” is the synchronous reply from you and Mikey.
Richie rolls his eyes, “Not Italian— Fu—”
Eva interrupts him, taking as much as a shining to you as she does her father. “Exp—Expultive!” She looks at you for approval and you nod in delight.
“Just go set up front, would ‘ya?” Mikey brushes Rich off, the man just rolls his eyes, picking up his daughter from you to fly her off like an airplane.
“Let's set the stage for your Uncle’s neck injury, sweets. Bwwwwrrr—” Richie makes good airplane noises. Richie’s a good dad. You will never find a good time to tell him this. You watch Mikey’s back flex, as he cracks back into the hole of wires in the wall. He's been working hard on a lot of little things lately.
You will not realize he is trying to make things clean and square, until it is too late. Right now, you’re just happy, because, “You’re already at three weeks again, and you haven’t even noticed.”
“Oh, I fucking noticed.” He doesn’t face you, when he says it, but it’s with a hearty chuckle. He’s noticed it violently, he’s just getting very good at the first month, now— Well acquainted with the burn out. “But now there’s money on the line, I can’t lose.”
It’s not that money’s on the line. It’s that his brother is on the line now. And Mikey couldn’t do this for himself— but the guy could do it for his brother. So he’ll just be the guy, that’s what the guy’s do. Six hours, same team. Nine weeks, Mikey, come on.
“Well you’re doing good, I’m proud of you.”
“You believe in me?” He says it like he doubts your conviction. You nearly punch him in the back of the head.
“Of course I believe in you.”
Mikey bites his inner cheek, though you can’t see his face. “...Why are we keeping the candles?”
Ah. You’ve still got the one and two candles in his drawer with a lighter, ready for the next cupcake. They’re slowly but surely melting with each reset, eventually they’ll be incomprehensible. Do you believe in me? If you do, why are you saving them? Do you think we’ll need them? That’s what Mikey’s asking. You scoff.
“You’re so stupid.” “What the— I confide in you and I get this—”
You interrupt him, arms crossed. “One day, one week, one month, one year, fuckin— When we get to double digits? Ten months? One decade?”
He’s mum, at that. You add. “We’re getting our fucking mileage out of these candles, Mikey. I believe in you.” You think Mikey has a future, still. Mikey knows he doesn’t. He changes the subject because if he doesn’t, he’ll tell you everything and you will stop it.
“I want you to start talking to Carmen, when he comes back.” You should’ve asked Mikey why he was so certain Carmen would be coming back. But you weren’t smart enough.
“What the fuck?” You snort. “Okay, out of literally nowhere—” “You’d like him.”
“He sounds very nice.” “He’s not. He’s a—” “Ball buster, yes, you’ve told me.” “He’d like you.” “Why?” “Cause you’re you.”
“Wow, pretty inarguable there.” You can only smile, unable to see the wheels turn in Michael’s head. “Guess we’ll be besties.”
“I meant talk like talk—” “Are you trying to hook me up right now?” “He’s a virgin, so it’s definitely not a good deal for you—” “And— And why are we talking about your brother's sex life— Did we already explode and this is hell?” “I just want you to be prepared for what you’re getting into, he gets performance anxiety so—” “Mikey!”
“You’ll talk to him?” Mikey turns away from the wall, wanting you to look him in the eyes and promise him.
You shake your head and roll your eyes, but stick a hand out for the Berzatto to shake. “Yes, Bear, I’ll talk to your virgin Michelin star ranked brother.”
“Thank you! I ask for so little.”
After close, after everyone but Carmen, Sydney, and Richie leave, the three make plans to meet in Michael’s office. Carmen will go in ahead to hide your folder because he doesn’t want to see it himself and he absolutely doesn’t want anyone else to see it. Even if one of them could very well explain it, because he’s fucking in them. It’s fine. He looks at your wrapped up painting in the corner of his office. Carmen considers for what feels like a decade, whether or not he should open it. But he hasn’t earned a gift from you, so he doesn’t— Not for now, at least. He hasn’t earned your art right now.
Underneath your ICE folder is his notepad— The one he was scribbling recipes for his Exec into, the one he scribbled your recipe into, and underneath all that torn up paper— His list, from this morning. The non-negotiable rules he wanted— Wants? To add to The Bear. There’s twenty-seven. Half of them are spelt wrong as he wrote them while absolutely losing his shit, this morning. This list did not go over well, when it was proposed during family, at two in the afternoon. Some of these could still work though, right? At least the technique and the boxes and the—
Richie comes in, not knocking, and immediately spots the list. “Oh good.” He grabs the notepad and rips off the twenty seven points. Leaving only the title, NON-NEGOTIABLES.
“Come the fuck on—” Says Carmen. Richie rolls his eyes, tossing the list onto the desk. Richie can tear him and his stupid fucking list a new one another time— Richie and Carmen can sort out their own part of the fight in a week, when they take a twelve hour road trip. Right now though, they are both completely focused on you.
Sydney comes in with two labelled deli containers of coke. Time codes and everything, she can't turn it off. She hands one to Rich, the other one is for herself. That’s fine, soda on Carmen’s shredded throat really wouldn’t be great right now anyways. She takes a sip, looking over Carm's shoulder. “Oh, we’re doing a real list, now?”
Carmen just sighs, letting the dig go, because he deserves it. He clicks his pen, sitting down, ready to write, without hesitation. “Go.”
Richie leads, “You need to fucking relax.”
“Lay off her,” Sydney waves her hand over her neck. “Leave her the fuck alone, for like a week, minimum.”
“No— What? No— You should call her like now—” “Absolutely not the right move—” “Solve it hard and fast—” “Why hard—?”
“I’m just gonna wait.” Carmen decides, typically Syd is the right one, anyways. Plus if he hears your voice right now he might throw up and he doesn’t have your tums, anymore. “Next?”
“An exorcism.” Richie doesn’t laugh, when he says it. “Also read fuckin’ Runnin’ on Empty— By Doctor Webb.”
The two cooks just look at him, like Richie’s grown five thousand heads. He groans before they even say anything. “I’m fuckin’ well read, shut the fuck up— It’s—” He snaps his fingers, pointing to Carmen’s list, “It’s an audiobook, too, on fuckin’ Spotify— Listen to that shit on your commute you have no excuse.”
“Yes, Chef.” Carmen writes it down, he also writes down under things to look into, catastrophizing, while he’s at it. Richie watches over his shoulder, and adds, “Look into sublimation and behavourial dysfunction.”
Syd’s still reeling over the sudden character growth. “You need to relax with the self-help books.”
“Yeah, well you need to read Mark Wolynn’s ‘It Didn’t Start With You.’” Richie’s got lists of books now, instead of zingers. They somehow hit harder.
She’s got no come back for that other than a surprised pout and nod, taking her own phone out to write it down. “Yes, Chef.”
Carmen pipes in, not looking up from his list of to dos “Should I also read that one—” “Yes.” “Heard, Chef. Next?”
“It cannot be on Tony to be your fucking punching bag. If you’re tweaking— Keep that shit between you and your therapist—” Syd switches from her notes app to search, “We’re finding you a fuckin’ therapist.”
“Is that covered in our contract?” Didn’t he write it? Carmen doesn’t know.
“Doesn’t matter. Also I don’t know, but doesn’t matter.” Syd hasn’t read it yet. She also doesn’t know.
You are worth a couple out of pocket fees. Well, more importantly, Carmen is worth a couple out of pocket fees— Well, alright, he’ll discuss his weaknesses of self-prioritization with the therapist.
Before Carmen can even say next, Richie adds. “Also you smell like shit.” The hair gel is pungent in a bad way.
And before he can defend himself, Sydney adds, not looking up from her phone, “We’re going to fuckin’ Kohl’s after this and we’re getting you a skincare— And haircare— routine. You’re seconds away from breaking out, I bet you use fuckin’ Palmolive dish soap.”
“Well— I’ve been using Tony’s, actually—” “We know.” It’s a completely synchronized interruption.
“It’s been her signature scent, since highschool.” “Who do you think took her grocery shopping when she didn’t have a car?” “I thought I was having a flashback everytime you walked by in the kitchen, this past week.” “You should go back to it.”
“I know. I will.” He’s got every intention of re-upping on your shampoo and conditioner, when he’s taken on a shopping spree to get his shit together. Hopefully you won’t mind him copying you. “No more Five in One.”
“You’ve been using fucking five in one!?”
Carmen thought, yesterday, naively, that he would do right by you on Friday. He didn’t, he did the very opposite— But even if he did, that’s weak shit. Carmen’s not gonna do right by you for just one single fucking day. Carmen’s gonna do right by you, for the rest of his life. The three get to well over twenty seven points, and he has every intention of showing up to it. He’s gonna be your man, and he’s going to fucking earn that title. He’s going to prove it.
“Okay. So can you tell me what happened on February 22nd?” She’s a shit therapist. You’re imagining both you and her dead in your head. You’ve been imagining a lot of people dead in your head, for the last two weeks. Every time your dad comes to check on you, you imagine that he’s a ghost.
You imagine having a passing conversation with someone, maybe catching up with Syd, one day. And she’ll ask you ‘Meet any interesting people?’ and you’ll say ‘Yeah. But he killed himself.’ That’s gonna suck. You didn’t prepare for that one. So you need to prepare now. Look at all of your friends and family, and imagine they are dead— And introduce them as such. ‘That’s my friend Richie, he died.’ Make it hurt now, so it doesn’t hurt then.
You didn’t prepare enough. Didn’t do enough. Countless little mistakes and moments you missed. The therapist is looking at you, oh right, it’s your turn to talk again. You’ve told her all these cute little stories but now she wants to hear how the sad shit went. Or maybe it was all sad shit. Maybe it’s all coated in a film of grief, now.
You’ll tell her that Mikey was very thorough, with his plan that you didn’t know about. He waited until he thought you were out of the city— When he knew you’d be out of the city. When your sister in law delivered your nephew and you went to Oak Park to visit.
Just days before, you celebrated three months of sobriety with him and Richie— You’ll tell the therapist, excitedly, that this was his longest streak so far, it took him a year to reach three months— It was a big fucking deal. You were beaming all day. You didn’t realize, however, that days after Uncle Jimmy had made his deal with you two, that Mikey did the math. Figured out exactly how many weeks he’d have to be sober, to get three-hundred grand.
Thirty weeks. Roughly seven months and two weeks. He did it. Not in sequence, but he did it. You’re still not sure where that money is. Uncle isn’t either. Maybe Carmen will figure it out. It’s meant for him anyways. You’ll say that Carmen will figure it out in such a way that she asks— “And do you hold animosity? Towards his younger brother?”
You look at her like she’s a psycho, because she is. Replying incredulously, “I don’t fucking know him.”
‘My best friend Michael is dead.’ ‘My best friend, Mikey, is dead.’ Doesn’t sound right. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue.
“Do you wish you did?”
“I really couldn’t say I give a shit, ma’am. Can I tell you about the guy I did know, though?”
She nods, you roll the fuck on. You tell her that the morning after you got to your brother’s place— February 22nd, you all decided instead of staying for the week, as you’d planned, as Mikey planned, you’d instead go home early. Because as much as you wanted to be helpful, having more people in the house was stressing the new mom the fuck out. Understandable. So you took a train back to Chicago early.
You got home, and you found that you’d gotten some mail, waiting for you on the floor, shoved through the mail slot of your door. Bill, bill, invoice, spam, coupons, handwritten envelope— Ah. Mikey’s handwriting. A deep unsettling feeling burrowed its way into you. It just says For Chip. There’s no letter inside. No. There’s a debit card, his, of your joint bank account, there’s a key, yours, a copy of your key to this apartment, and a necklace, his— With his three month sobriety chip hanging off of it.
You call him, immediately. He doesn’t answer the first time. You call him again. He answers on the last possible ring.
The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life— Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call with an old friend.
“Yo, Ice-y!” A classic nickname, reserved purely for phone calls with Mikey. Because in his phone, you’re 0ICEChip, so you’ll show up at the top of his contact list, if he’s ever found unresponsive. Typically a pro-tip reserved for those in hospice care.
You don’t entertain him. “Where are you?”
“I’m just out for a walk, sweetheart.” “Shut the fuck up out for a walk— Where the fuck are you?”
He hums at your snarky tone. “Nephew didn’t take a liking to you?” “I came home early.”
The silence is long, and you can hear the heavy wind coming through his phone. He’s outside. He’s somewhere outside. It’s a cold night. It’s usually not this cold at the end of February, but it really fucking came down, this morning.
“Oh.”
“Why did you leave this shit at my door? Where are you?” You thought of 0ICE but you didn’t think to have him turn his location on? Fucking idiot. Fucking idiot. You didn’t do enough. ‘My friend, Bear, is dead.’ You didn’t prepare enough. “Bear, c’mon, what’s going on? I told you, if we need to reset, it’s two steps forward, one step back, it’s okay—”
“It’s not.” “It is! We will get there!” “I’m not. You’re gonna get there, I’m not.” “That’s not true!” “I love you but we both know this was a pipe dream.”
“Mikey—”
“Chip, I’m not going anywhere. You’re— You’re fucking going somewhere. I can’t— I can’t let— We both know where I’m going and it’s nowhere you should begin to be.”
“You don’t get to make that choice for me. You don’t get to make that call. I decide what I bet on— Mikey, where are you?” You’re walking out of your place, you hadn’t even closed the door before leaving again.
Fucking idiot, you should’ve bought a car. How are you supposed to get to him on foot and train? Fucking idiot. The snow is beating down, the wind is cutting into your face. ‘My best friend died on February 22nd. On the State Street Bridge.’— Why didn’t you get a fucking car? You didn’t do enough. You can’t remember any of your training, right now. What are you supposed to say? “Are you using?”
“No. No. I’m— This is me, Chip.” “No it’s fucking not, Mikey! Shut the fuck up, where are you!?”
“I love you, I didn’t want this to be— I-I—I’m not killing myself, Chip.”
“You’re not?”
You shouldn’t have believed him. You should’ve just kept walking. You would’ve figured out where he was, eventually. You should’ve called the coast guard, or some shit. Should’ve just figured it out.
“I’m not. I’m— I’m okay, I’m really just going for a walk— I-I just— I had a… I— I don’t want you to be my sponsor anymore. That’s it.” It made sense. He didn't want you to feel hurt, so he was hesitant. It made sense.
“Why?”
“Cause you’re a kid, and I can’t make you responsible for what I do.”
“I’m not a kid.” “To me, you are.” “Then we’ll find you someone else.” “Yeah, okay.”
You pause, for a good bit, listening to the shakiness of his breath. “You’re cold, Mikey.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re just cold.” That’s all that’s wrong. He’s just cold and he doesn't want you to be his sponsor anymore. “Go inside, soon. Come home.”
“I will.”
Mikey always had that way of making you think everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t. “Okay.”
“I want you to start treating our joint like an advanced payment, by the way. A million things are always fucking breaking at The Beef, there’s no point in wiring all the time.”
Mikey wants this to be clean and square, too. Because he couldn’t figure out the wiring by himself— He needs to make sure his baby brother is taken care of, he needs to make sure his restaurant is taken care of, he needs to make sure that you have something to do because Michael fucking saw you.
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You nod to no one. “I think your toilets fucked, speaking of.” You laugh, everything’s okay. There’s a long silence, and you think he’s hung up.
“Good. Okay— You should— You should come fix it, sometime soon… Love you, Chip.”
“Love you, Bear.”
You will tell your therapist that after that phone call, you went back inside, cleaned yourself up, unpacked unused toiletries, changed out of your borrowed brother’s sweats into your nice pajamas, because Mikey said he would come home. He said he would come home and you believed him because he never lied to you before. You set up the things he left for you in your handmade clay dish tray; so he can take them back. Just because you’re not his sponsor, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t keep his chips.
You will tell your therapist that you fell asleep on the couch, waiting for Michael. You will tell her you woke up to a phone call from Richie, and all he said, wavering, was, “You should come over.” Richie doesn’t ask things. Richie will always say, come over. You don’t know why that’s the signal you get, since you seemingly must have missed so many other obvious signs, but you know then that your— Your— Your best— Fuck, the knots are fucking debilitating, fuck fuck fuck.
You will not come over. You will walk, in the cold, to your dad’s place. You will not bring anything with you. You will stay there and rot for two weeks, as will everything in your apartment. He will force you to go to this several hour long therapy appointment because he can’t keep watching you do this, and you will resent the woman you are telling all this.
You will continue to see her, for five more sessions, because the first six are covered under your insurance. She will help in a lot of ways, she will hurt in others.
Wells-Fargo will ask if you want to close your account. You don’t want to, but it’ll accrue monthly banking fees, so you take the money out and close it. You buy a shitty maroon 2004 Dodge Intrepid off Facebook Marketplace with the two and a half grand. It barely functions as a car. But it will drive. The next time someone needs you. You can drive. Next time you’ll think of everything, next time you won’t fail.
You stop paying the phone bill, for your business line. It goes defunct. You just don’t think you should be trusted to be helpful, for the next little while. You will blame your father for this, when people ask about it.
On the day of his funeral, you will go. You will go, and you will sit on the curb across from the church, and you will not go inside. It's just not possible. You will buy a pork chop-cheese sandwich from a bodega nearby and you will eat it on that curb and it’s only then, after shoving it down for so long, that you will scream and cry.
You will leave before anyone sees you, and you will go to State Street Bridge, and you will set up a small vigil. You will finnick with the candles and the flowers until you feel they are perfect. They will never get perfect. You just don’t want to leave. You have a tendency to do that.
You will stare at the little stuffed bear, the roses, the picture frame of him, and you will finally say it aloud.
“My best friend, Mikey, died.”
When Carmen shows up, two hours later, not honestly that long after you finally left, he will add a bouquet and a prayer candle. He will readjust all of your work, to his preference, and then readjust it again and again and again— and he will finally say it aloud.
“My brother, Mikey, shot himself.”
No matter how you say it, it won’t roll off the tongue.
And about thirty-nine weeks from that day, you will be in New York, at a wedding, talking with the virgin Michelin star ranked brother, as you promised.
You will have abandoned your bar after making confessions under the counter, and have instead co-opted the single stall gender-neutral bathroom to have ample time and space to tell each other everything you’ve told your therapists. Even now, neither of you can get the words to roll off the tongue.
But Carmen manages to make “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry— I will never be able to surmise, how sorry—” roll off well enough. Alas, he’s interrupted, by a knock on the gender-neutral bathroom door, made by the only fuckers that knows you two are in here.
“Guys I— Guys I don’t know how to run bar, and I don’t think I should’ve been trusted, with this.”
Carmen will not look away from your bleary-eyed face, he will not break his focus even when you laugh at the sudden tension break. He will just tell the Faks to fuck off and figure it out.
“I’m gonna fix it.” Carmen will tell you, and you will nod and say, “I will too.”
Because it’s not just on one of you, anymore. It can be both. The shared burden. The shared grief. No more fucking shoes, because it's all out now.
It’s not negotiable.
I love when tumblr drafts fully start to lag and my macbook lights on fire because the post is too fucking long. I have so much to say about this chapter but I think I will just make a separate post entirely about this. Because I’m. I’m really proud tbh not to toot my own horn but I think I kind of maybe a little bit ate with this one.
Fun fact, that you may or may not believe: The Carmen scenes? Not planned. Fully did not plan to do any of that. This was going to be entirely Mikey flashbacks, originally— There might’ve ended up being more honestly, if I didn’t add Carmen, but after Something to Do when I started writing I was like,,, these cats aren’t cooking, Carmen’s side is missing a second beat before the third. And so, here it is.
I know everyone was expecting a depression week for Carmen— And to be fair, I also kind of was. But I then thought, nah. They’d done too much work, and I don’t think Rich/Syd would allow him to wallow. Like get your shit together, not for you, for her. Ugh.
Speaking of Rich and Syd— FUCK man my heart. The way their scenes from the past and present meshed together in such a deeply painful way I’m sooo SICK WITH IT!!! WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!! Just fuckin— The way Tony was too scared to reach out to Syd but it’s SO FUCKING OBVIOUS that Syd was on the other side of Chicago thinking the exact same shit i’m SO SICK!!!!! I’M HACKING UP A LUNG HERE!!
Anyways it’s my birthday send me well wishes and an essay on what you thought I’d love to hear it. I know this was a tough one. Thank you for getting through it with me lmao. Tag list! Hope I didn’t forget anyone, pwease note i ownwee add pweople who swend theiw twoughts— It also may or may not hurt my feelings when people don’t read this text at the bottom. It might. It might a lot.
@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @sharkluver @fridavacado @hoetel-manager @mrs-perfectly-fine
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#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto imagine#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto#mikey berzatto#michael berzatto#carmen x oc#carmy x reader#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear#the bear hulu#the bear fx
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A while ago, I made a post going into parts of the missable Sae Palace arc text messages, such as these:
However, that post neglected to include a full transcript. I have since transcribed all of these texts, which occur on 10/30, 11/3, 11/7, and 11/11. You must not infiltrate Sae's Palace until after these dates in order to get these.
Transcripts below the cut! Crossposted to the P5 sub.
The first of these texts takes place on 10/30. You will miss this text if you infiltrate the Palace on the first available day.
--
Ryuji: Yo, Akechi.
Akechi: What is it?
Ryuji: You got any idea who the true culprit might be?
Futaba: Oh yeah! You said you saw a masked guy, right?
Haru: I wanted to ask about that too.
Futaba: Did you really see him? The masked guy's gotta be the true culprit, right?
Akechi: If this so-called true culprit is acting alone, then there can be no mistake about it.
Futaba: I see.
Yusuke: The next question is, who is that masked man?
Akechi: Unfortunately, I do not know that much.
Futaba: Ugh, you're useless.
Akechi: That is quite harsh.
Futaba: Aw, you're making me blush!
Ann: That wasn't a compliment...
Akechi: At this point, I have yet to even grasp any clues. But once this is dealt with, I will surely capture him. I promise you that.
We'll be counting on you.
Akechi: Perfect. Leave it to me. It may sound somewhat odd for me to say this, but I am an exceptional detective. I assure you, I will catch this culprit. Look forward to it.
Can you do it?
Akechi: Hm? Do you not trust me?
[The rest plays out the same as the other option.]
--
What's funny about this exchange is how the Thieves know Akechi's deal and are just playing along. It makes some of the reactions (especially from Haru and Futaba) read as comically passive aggressive. However, the more interesting texts start coming on 11/03, 11/07, and 11/11.
Starting with 11/03.
--
Ryuji: Goddamit. People're acting like we were the ones who killed 'em.
Yusuke: I have even heard them say we are assassins hired to deal with psychotic breakdown victims.
Ann: Ugh, that's obviously not what we're trying to do.
Akechi: This must be part of the plan to shift blame onto the Phantom Thieves. After all, the true culprit is the one killing the people on that ranking list.
This is unforgivable
Akechi: Indeed. I have no intentions of letting this slide.
This is total BS
Akechi: But that is the truth for the general public at the moment.
[Both lead to...]
Futaba: Man, this culprit guy really won't let up. I don't remember ever doing anything that'd make someone hate us THIS much.
Haru: He used my father as well...
Akechi: I cannot fathom what his motive may be... We will just have to capture and interrogate him.
Makoto: But before that, we need to change my sister's heart. That's our first step toward stopping him.
Akechi: I must agree. The true culprit will be caught, but before that we must deal with Sae-san. If ranking is being taken into consideration, perhaps I will be targeted too... Just kidding.
--
This tells us that Shido is deliberately having Akechi target high ranking targets on the PhanSite in order to terrify the public with abhorrent acts of violence, much like he did in April. It's a way to make people feel scared and more reliant on Shido to be the change that Japan needs. But if you secure the treasure as quickly as possible, you will miss this added information that really deepens how cruel he truly is by ordering hits just to paint a convenient narrative.
And this is definitely Shido's idea, because on 11/7 we get this gem...
--
Haru: Do you think the culprit could be someone at our school?
Yusuke: That seems somewhat sudden.
Haru: I mean, didn't they find a calling card in Principal Kobayakawa's office? I thought you had suggested that idea yourself, Yusuke.
Yusuke: That was just a generalization.
Haru: But if Mako-chan noticed what was going on with you guys, somebody else might have too.
Ann: So you think that "somebody else" is trying to frame us? What's gotten into you so suddenly?
Haru: Nothing has gotten into me. I just think there's a chance the culprit is related to Shujin...
You might be right. / There's no way.
[Both get the same response:]
Yusuke: What is all of this about? It's too soon to be jumping to conclusions like this.
Haru: Well, I was hoping to hear a professional opinion on the matter... What are your thoughts, Akechi-kun?
Akechi: The possibility is not zero, but it does seem a bit unlikely.
Haru: Why do you ask?
Akechi: A normal person would never do such a thing. They would have no reason to callously murder your principal.
Haru: And what if they weren't normal?
Akechi: Are you implying they kill for the sheer pleasure of it?
Haru: No, not like that. What I mean is, you need certain special abilities to navigate through that world, yes?
Akechi: Ah, so you're saying the culprit is a Persona-user.
Haru: Yes.
Akehci: I see... How perceptive. Truthfully, I was considering that possibility myself. But it is difficult to think they have ties to Shujin Academy.
Haru: Why?
Akechi: There would be no motive for them to carry out such a cruel plot. Clearly our culprit is acting behind the scenes to accomplish some grand objective. He likely has accomplices. It is even possible that he is being controlled by someone.
Makoto: Controlled? By whom?
Akechi: If I knew that, I do not think we would be in this much trouble.
Haru: I see... So even someone like you doesn't know, Akechi-kun.
Futaba: Looks like our genius detective's not so much of a genius after all.
Akechi: Haha, harsh as always. If there is one thing I know, it is that the culprit behind all of this is extremely shrewd. But don't worry. I will catch him, no matter what it takes.
I'm looking forward to that. / I wonder if you can do it.
Akechi: More importantly, we need to focus on changing Sae-san's heart for the time being. If we cannot do that, everything we have done will be for naught. We absolutely must succeed here.
--
There is so much to unpack here. By far, it's my favorite of these texts because of the light it sheds on Akechi's motivations and intentions. First, we have Haru pressing the subject. She clearly wants to squeeze answers out of Akechi. She's subtly putting him on the spot because she knows...
But Akechi lets slip that no, actually, he doesn't do this for pleasure. That actually, he is being controlled and that the true mastermind is someone shrewd that he intends to take down. Amidst all of Akechi's lies and platitudes during this part of the story, we see a crack in his perfectly prepared mask. In a way, this is the most honest we've seen Akechi outside of his Royal confidant and on 8/28 and 9/3. In a way, he's sharing little slivers of himself with the rest of the team (either begrudgingly or for reasons he doesn't fully understand) the way he already has with Joker.
And it actually explains a few things that happen later. Namely, the way he downplays the need to kill the other Phantom Thieves until after the election (keep in mind, he does intend to knock Shido down from his pedestal) as well as treating Morgana as "just a cat." Obviously, this doesn't absolve Akechi of his guilt, but it does make it clear that he isn't as remorseless as a lot of people believe, even if no amount of sunk cost fallacy is gonna undo the damage he's done.
Hell, when combined with his lamentation that he didn't meet Joker years ago in the engine room and his reaction to Morgana explaining changes of heart, these texts further solidify that his feelings toward both Joker and the Thieves are extremely complex and absurdly messy.
Plus we get Haru and Futaba both taking shots at him, which is fun and also extremely deserved. :p
Moving on, there's one final missable November text on 11/11. It goes as follows:
--
Akechi: So, about the investigation... It seems they have no evidence that can truly be called as such.
Ryuji: Well duh.
Akechi: However, it seems they have no intentions of changing their plans.
Ann: They're going to investigate at both Shujin Academy and Leblanc, right?
Akechi: Indeed.
Makoto: Hm. I can understand Shujin... But why Leblanc?
Akechi: The key is Wakaba Isshiki.
Futaba: Is it cause of my mom's research?
Akechi: Correct. Her study of cognitive psience is closely connected to this case. Of that, there can be no doubt.
Futaba: Then this guy's really the mastermind behind all of this?
Akechi: That would be the case. There can be no mistake... The one who erased cognitive psience from this world is surely the culprit behind everything.
Makoto: And getting rid of the research was the only way they could use its powers?
Akechi: How perceptive of you. Yes, that is the only logical conclusion. Both Sae-san and I were searching for clues about that research. But just as we were about to deepen our investigation, this commotion began. And to make things even more troublesome... There was only one person with strong connections to both Shujin Academy and Leblanc. And that person turned out to be the leader of the Phantom Thieves.
Yusuke: So the culprit had calculated all of this in advance?
Akechi: Heavens no. That would be impossible. This was a miracle created by the coinciding of multiple chance situations.
Ryuji: Dude, you hear that? He says you got miraculously bad luck. Don't that make you feel good?
I'm so lucky.
Ryuji: Y'know, shitty luck is still luck.
That's not funny.
Ryuji: C'mon, you gotta be able to laugh it off at this point.
Haru: Yes, your luck really is impressive.
Akechi: At any rate, that's the current state of things. And that's why we must obstruct the investigation at all costs.
Makoto: Yes, that's our intention.
--
Once again, we have Akechi laying it on thick that Shido is the one behind everything, as he was the one who ordered the hit on Wakaba, stole her research, and had his own research team develop it further. And keep in mind, Shido's own words, first on 11/21...
"Those who get in the way must be eliminated at times—that's the correct way to use the Metaverse."
And later, his Shadow states, "Moreover, it was thanks to me that Akechi was able to properly use his power to begin with."
So we know that even the idea of inducing mental shutdowns came from him, even if Akechi offered his Metaverse abilities as part of his stupid revenge plan.
What this shows is Akechi wants to hint that there is this bigger puppet master, even if he's going to betray the Thieves, and this is actually really consistent with his Royal confidant. In Rank 7, he uses a billiard games as a metaphor for the upcoming betrayal kill and gives Joker an out, even if he's much happier if you assert your rivalry instead. This makes his warnings about the connections to Wakaba carry a very similar feeling, and since these texts were in Vanilla, it's likely that the Royal confidant built on this foundation.
But then there's the fact that the Thieves are fully in the know that Akechi is going to betray them, so it recontextualizes all these texts where they are genuinely trying to squeeze as much info out of him as they can and likely having to restrain themselves hard (especially Futaba and Haru).
And all of this you will never see unless you delay the infiltration until 11/12. So, the next time you play Persona 5 Royal, it might be worthwhile to delay Sae's Palace to see these in-game! They're really cool and it's a shame they aren't scripted events.
#persona 5#goro akechi#akechi goro#p5 akechi#phantom thieves#haru okumura#futaba sakura#character analysis#p5 meta#persona 5 royal#p5r#akechi#masayoshi shido
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Is lunar return as important as solar return? What's the difference? Are the interpretations the same?
Thanks 🤎
Astro Observations: Lunar Return Chart I
Hii! That's a very good question! So Lunar Return Chart is pretty similar to Solar Return Chart, except that it is focused on the moon. While the Sun takes a year to come back, the Moon takes a month, so your Lunar Return Chart change every month. It will tell you how your month will go, what will most likely happen. I have never been through a lot of Lunar RC but I will try yo make an observation post now! I hope you will like it :)
How to make a LRC?
✮⋆˙ Go on Astro.com
✮⋆˙ Free Horoscopes > Horoscope Drawings & Data > Extended Chart Selection
✮⋆˙ Chart Type: Scroll to "Lunar Return Chart"
✮⋆˙ Start Date: I suggest to start with 1st of the month and you'll see the date written when your LRC starts on your chart.
╰┈➤ For ex: For April, mine starts on April 12th 2024 and the next date if May 5th 2024 for my May LRC. So be careful about the dates!
✮⋆˙ Don't forget to add additional objects if you want to, and you are done!
All pictures are from Pinterest.
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Solar Return Observations I
જ⁀➴ Solar Return Synastry I
જ⁀➴ Solar Return Synastry II
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ִ ࣪𖤐 Best tool to know about LRC.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sun 1H will make you have focused on confidence this month. You could also be more bold and you could be more courageous. You could want to take actions on whenever house/ sign is complimentary to that placement. You could also move more and be more physical in general.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sun 3H will make you have a month focused on expressing yourself. You could also commit to know more about yourself, discover yourself, and it could be a time of getting to know us better.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sagittarius Rising/ 21° will makes you appear as pretty open minded this month! You could appear as curious, smart, immature too, but you could also appear as someone who knows a lot of things and who want to learn more.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Gemini Rising/ 27° is quite similar as Sagittarius Rising/ 21° but you could appear as gossipy or veryyyy talkative lol. People could think you speak non stop.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Moon will always be at the same sign as your Natal Moon and same degree also, so you should look mostly on which house it falls every month.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Moon 5H will make you feel quite creative this month. If you want children, you could want to be pregnant. You could also find yourself spending more time with children this month! You could be very sensitive to art in general but also you could be good at acting/ pretending your emotions. You could want to spend more time with friends, loved ones. You could be more flirty this month too. More romantic.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mercury 3H means you will def speak this month about you, your thoughts, your feelings, you will share! It's a good time to go to therapy, to talk to a friend about you and what is deep inside of you. You will probably need to lash out. You could also spend a lot of time just talking, small talking, but actually speak with people will probably be a need this month. You could also be very into drama and gossips lol.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Venus 3H could mean you could do or have a love confession! You could speak a lot about your feelings this month, speak a lot about love and how you love people around you. But you could be overanalyzing or overthinking your feelings and your relationships with your loved ones this month too.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Chiron 3H could mean you will have hard time with communication this month, you could argue more with your friends, or people in general. This could be because of miscommunication or just misunderstanding people. You could also speak in a more mean way this month, and be more vulgar too.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mars 12H could mean you are quite sensible this month and you could not have much motivation. You could be very lazy and it could also be a sign of depression.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mars 2H could also be you being lazy but you could also be very money focused. You could not be quite that motivated.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Jupiter 5H means you will be lucky for sure this month and you'll probably be very creative too.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Jupiter conjunct Uranus 5H could mean a sudden idea on the creative side, or a sudden luck that you didn't expect.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mars conjunct Saturn means you'll struggle to be motivated this month.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Saturn 2H could be that you'll very focused on your money and income situation, this can be stressful because you'll feel like you need to take responsibility for that.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Uranus 5H could be a sign of sudden ideas, sudden popularity, sudden love and flirt, romance could happen unexpectedly, but also fun moments.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Pluto 1H could be there is a big change about your physically. Perhaps you'll decide to lose weight or do more sport this month.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sun 10H means you can focus a lot on your career, your reputation, how people see you but also you progress in your life. You could become just very hard working and you could be more busy during this month.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Moon 11H could be that you'll probably spend a lot of time online, you could also find some comfort online, talking to some online friends perhaps or just texting/ calling friends. It could also watch a show you love, or playing video games. Technologies and internet can bring you comfort. But being with friends, talking to friends or spending time with people with whom you feel good.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mercury 9H could be that you can be focused about learning a new language, or learning things about a certain culture. You could also just be very focused on your studies, whatever you do. Even if you work, you could be very focused about learning new techniques or tools. You could also be more into spirituality than before.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Leo/ 5°/ 17°/ 29° Rising will make you seen as very popular, someone people look at a lot, you could be seen as the main character. You could be very fashionable and you could dress up very well this month. Could be a sign to be a it-girl.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Libra/ 7°/ 19° Rising will make you be perceived as very beautiful, fashionable, good looking, you could be seen as someone who dress up well, do well your make up, take care of your appearance.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sun conjunct Venus in 10H could mean you could become very popular and well liked by other people this month. You could have a lovely reputation. You could also get a good popularity at work.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Venus 10H will make you love your job! You could also love your reputation lol. This could be a sign of you feeling more well liked and you could really like the popularity you get.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Venus conjunct Uranus 10H means you can get an unexpected popularity at work, or recognition. You could not expect it, or this can be pretty sudden and unplanned. This could also happen online.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sun conjunct Uranus 10H could represent sudden fame! It can also represent sudden rise up in your work, career, you could get a sudden recognition for something you do. A good popularity and rise up in your reputation.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mars 9H could mean you'll have more motivation in studying this month. You could want to learn more and you'll have a lot of drive to do so. You could also be very motivated to expand your knowledge in general.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Mercury conjunct Mars 9H means you'll study a lot during this month. You could want to achieve a certain goal. You could also be talking a lot about your spiritual goals if you have some.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Jupiter 10H means you can get lucky in your job and career. You'll also be very luck in general because of your good reputation! This also means you'll probably get good opportunities at work.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Venus conjunct Jupiter 10H represents big opportunities that you probably always wanted to happen in your work. Opportunities that will make you love your job more.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Sun conjunct Jupiter 10H means your month will be very focused on your work and the opportunities you'll have. You'll be very focused on your career this month because you'll feel more lucky about it.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Jupiter conjunct Uranus 10H means unexpected opportunities and good fortune in the work field! Happy!
ִ ࣪𖤐 Uranus 10H means expect the unexpected in your career field! You could have some things happening suddenly in your work.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Saturn 8H could be a sign of feeling very overwhelmed, and depressed this month. You could have the feeling to go insane sometimes. Be aware of this, this is a sign to be careful with your thoughts. Your mental health will not be that great, so don't be afraid to ask for help.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Neptune 9H means some life lessons will probably confuse you and you can get hard times to learn those. But this could also mean you will probably be more spiritual this month!
ִ ࣪𖤐 Vertex 5H means something important could happen in your love life, fun life or creative life.
ִ ࣪𖤐 When your LRC Rising is the same as your SRC then this month will be very important in your life!
ִ ࣪𖤐 Pluto 6H means there could be a change in your health and how you eat, how you live your life. You could also try to work on your health, and mental health too.
ִ ࣪𖤐 Part of Fortune 1H could be a sign of a glow up. It could also be a sign of you being naturally lucky this month.
ִ ࣪𖤐 North Node 9H could mean you will learn some important life lessons this month.
Thank you for reading!
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#uyuans#astrology#astrology reading#astro#astro observations#astrology observations#astro community#astro notes#astro posts#astrology community#astrology transits#lunar return#lunar return chart#lunar return observation#solar return analysis#solar return chart#solar return#astrology solar return#astrology lunar return#astro observation
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The Way to His Heart [10]
Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader
AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 4.5k
Trigger Warnings: graphic violence/torture, gore, implied mutilation
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 9 | Fic Masterlist | Part 11
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Wooyoung called out, entering the general's study with Jongho following closely behind, having been summoned to the estate.
Seonghwa looked up from his desk, "Ah yes, I heard you turned down the bonus incentive we offered. Why is that? Is there something else that you wish to have?"
Having encountered few who would refuse extra money, your husband found it hard to comprehend the private investigator's decision. Most people around him were usually drawn by the allure of his wealth or other associated benefits, which left him curious about Wooyoung's motives for declining the bonus. Surely, there was something specific he desired.
The younger man beamed, "My lord, I wasn't working so willingly for you because I wanted something more from you. Honestly, nothing makes me happier than being recognised by you! I just... okay, maybe there is one thing I really want."
Raising his brow, the general was not surprised by the sudden admission, "Go on, name it then."
With a cheeky grin, the investigator replied, "It's that you allow me to help you with whatever problems you have now!"
Your husband rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "What do you mean? I have no problems now; the worst is over."
"Really? Is that why you're here sulking alone instead of being with Lady Park? You clearly want to be near her, and yet, here you are, staying away from her because you haven't a clue how to face her after the traumatising ordeal you put her through yesterday."
That finally piqued Seonghwa's attention, prompting him to sit up straighter, though he attempted to maintain a nonchalant demeanour, "H-how did you figure that out?"
Without waiting for Wooyoung's response, he shook his head, "No, wait, actually, I don't want to know that. Just tell me... what should I do? I realise I haven't considered well enough what she went through, but I... I've never had to care for someone like this before, and I'm not really sure how to..."
The investigator offered an understanding smile, "My lord, the key to any relationship is communication. You need to talk to Lady Park. Ask her how she's feeling, and tell her you're sorry for what she went through. Avoiding each other won't solve anything; it will only create more distance between you two. You're her pillar of support now, and she needs to feel that you're there for her. You both deserve happiness, but it starts with open and honest communication."
Absorbing the advice, the general nodded thoughtfully, "You're right, Wooyoung. I appreciate your straightforwardness. I'll go talk to her and make things right."
Without hesitating, he sprang from his chair and made his way out of the study. The assistant and his friend couldn't contain their laughter, covering their mouths with their hands, but quickly composed themselves when Seonghwa glanced back at them, "Oh, and please, accept the bonus. You deserve it, especially after this."
Before Wooyoung could object, he had already exited the room and was rushing down the path toward the House of Lotus, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing his wife again.
He remembered how quiet you had been during the entire journey back home the day before, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. While you weren't overtly distant or cold to him, you seemed lost in thought throughout dinner. You excused yourself early, retiring to your quarters. The atmosphere carried an unspoken tension, making him hesitant to say anything for fear of your potential reaction.
Reflecting on it, he realised he should have assured you that things would be better from that point forward. Rather than maintaining a facade of normalcy, he regretted not breaking the silence and being there for you in that moment of unease.
His steps hesitated, and his breath deepened as you finally appeared in his line of sight, seated alone in the pavilion outside your room. Your lady etiquette books lay open beside you, but the faraway look in your eyes remained glued to the horizon beyond the lotus pond. For a moment, he stood there, appreciating your beauty, suddenly feeling thankful you looked nothing like your father.
However, as soon as you turned your head slightly and noticed him standing by the entrance, he blinked rapidly, feeling flustered. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and approached you.
Just go talk to her, you fool.
Seeing him approach, you closed the books and made room for him to sit in the small pavilion. He offered a warm smile, "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering you or anything."
Shaking your head, you returned a small smile, "No, not at all. I tried to study, but I just... I couldn't."
As he settled down beside you, reaching for your hand, you didn't flinch or pull away. He released a relieved breath and moved closer, "It's alright, you don't have to force yourself. I know you're probably upset with me. I... I'm sorry, my dear."
Lifting your head to meet his eyes, you furrowed your brows, "What? Why would I be upset with you?"
He winced, wondering if you were intentionally testing him to see if he knew what he did wrong. But then again, he knew you would never do anything like that. Sighing, he admitted, "Look, I know I should've thought things through better yesterday. I was so focused on wanting to punish your family for what they did, I forgot about how horrible it must have been for you to go back there and sit through all of that."
"I acknowledge it was a mistake. My intention was to give you a chance to confront your family by taking you to your old room. I didn't think it would affect you so badly. I realise now that it was a misguided decision, and I regret taking you back to that place. I'm a goddamned idiot."
His admission tugged at your heart, and you responded by placing a comforting hand over his.
"Seonghwa, you're not an idiot. I'm not upset with you," You assured him, "I've been quiet since the visit because I'm still processing the fact that my own father killed my mother. All this time, I believed she died from sickness. Now, I can't help but wonder how different my life would have been if only she were still alive. He took her away from me just like that, and for what? All for his own selfish reasons..."
"I just... I feel so—" Tears welled up in your eyes, and your voice broke, "I-I'm sorry..." You pulled your hands away from him, attempting to wipe your eyes, but he gently grasped your shoulders and turned you to face him.
"No, you need to stop apologising. You have every right to be sad, and I'm here to tell you that you never have to endure any more of the pain you're going through alone. I'm here for you, okay? From now on, I want you to lean on me whenever things get too unbearable. Can you do that?"
Feeling the genuine warmth in Seonghwa's tone and seeing the unmistakable care in his eyes, you finally broke down. The weight of the revelations, the pain of your father's actions, and the years of emotional torment spilt over, and you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. He pulled you close, cradling you in his arms as you sobbed against his shoulder.
Whispering comforting words into your ear, he pressed gentle kisses onto the top of your head. His touch was a soothing balm, providing the comfort and support you desperately needed in that moment. As you let out your emotions, he held you tighter.
The sound of your heart-wrenching cries only caused an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart. The general had never experienced this kind of ache before. Throughout his life, he had always believed that no one had a tougher life than he did. But then you came along, with your fragile form, managing to shake his entire world and alter his perspectives on life. All of a sudden, the notion of having someone to protect and care for didn't seem so repulsive, especially when it was you.
You slowly pulled back, staring up at him through your wet lashes, and offered a grateful smile, "Seonghwa, I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I never imagined someone caring enough to go through all that trouble. I promise, in return, I'll try my hardest to be a worthy wife for you."
He wiped away your tears tenderly and gazed into your eyes, "You don't need to prove anything, my love. You're already perfect, just as you are."
Your heart raced, and your eyes widened as you stuttered, "W-wait, what... what did you just call me?"
He stilled, realising the words that had slipped from his mouth before he softened. Leaning close, he pressed his forehead against yours, "My love."
Seonghwa's presence became almost intoxicating. Feeling him so close, as if with a mind of its own, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. He took that as permission to lean in further, and after what felt like an eternity, his lips touched yours in a soft and tentative kiss. When you didn't push him away, he bravely angled his head before pressing his lips firmly against yours.
Finally, our first kiss.
Pulling away after a while to catch your breath, you bit your lip shyly, "I-I'm sorry if I wasn't—"
He shook his head, "Don't worry, it's my first time kissing someone too," He admitted, struggling to take his eyes off your swollen lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek with his thumb, "Can I..." He asked with half-lidded eyes, and you nodded breathlessly.
Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in another loving kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of each other's presence. His touch was gentle yet filled with a depth of emotion. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of emotions, a mix of vulnerability and passion.
Feeling the need for air, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. Your eyes met, and you could see the affection and sincerity in his gaze, "You're perfect." He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, realising that kissing you might just be his new favourite thing to do from now onwards. The moment lingered, the air charged with newfound emotions. It was a beginning, a sweet promise of the love that had blossomed between you.
"Your Majesty, please—"
The King slammed his fists against the handle of his throne, causing the minister to gasp and lower his head. He shook like a leaf, awaiting his impending doom as the ruler declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you, Jang. You're a bloody disappointment. Actually, you're worse than that, you monster."
Kneeling beside your father were your stepmother and stepsisters, equally trembling. Pathetic tears rolled down their cheeks as they attempted to put on a pity show, hoping to move His Majesty's heart. However, their efforts did little to appease his rage. He scoffed in disbelief at their audacity to cry, considering all the despicable things they had done to you and your mother.
This marked the first time the four women had set foot in the palace, and little did they anticipate it would be under such circumstances. The visit might also be their only time here, as the imminent judgement from the King would decide their fate.
Seonghwa stood in the corner, arms crossed over his chest, an amused expression on his face. He left home that morning after a lingering kiss on your lips, feeling rejuvenated and determined. Choosing not to burden you with the details of today's assembly, he shielded you from further thoughts about your family.
Don't worry, my love. I'll make sure they suffer a punishment worse than death.
"I can't stand to look at you imbeciles for another moment longer. Let's get this over with already. Royal Secretary Choi, would you be so kind as to enlighten us with all of Minister Jang's crimes and his punishments?" said the King.
Stepping forward from his corner next to the throne, San bowed, "As you wish, Your Majesty," Tugging open the scroll in his hands, he began reading out loud, "Minister Jang has committed a total of five crimes. First, he committed adultery voluntarily, and for that, he will be whipped with eighty lashes. Second, he committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, he will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."
Dread filled the minister as he gulped, anxiously listening to the secretary move on to the next section, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of his own daughter, an innocent citizen, he will be flogged thirty times. Next, for violating the code of ethics as a minister, which is to be a law-abiding citizen, he will be stripped of his title and flogged another twenty times."
As your father's hands trembled, he attempted to hold himself up by pressing his sweaty palms against the floor, breathing heavily as he awaited the final and most severe punishment. San continued, "And finally, for the murder of his first wife, an innocent citizen, he will be sentenced to permanent exile."
That's... it?
Feeling a sliver of hope, the old man let out a small sigh of relief. At least it wasn't death by beheading or arsenic poisoning as he had feared. Banishment seemed acceptable; he supposed he could still live a quiet life somewhere away from here. Bowing deeply, he cried, "Thank you, Your Majesty! Your grace is immeasurable!"
All the ministers and officials present quickly stole glances at Seonghwa, wondering if he would throw a fit and object to the punishment that was yet to be the heaviest one. However, they failed to discern his feelings, as there was only an unreadable smirk on his handsome face.
Lady Jang and her daughters trembled as they awaited their turn. With a nod from the King, the secretary continued, "Moving on, Lady Jang has committed a total of four crimes. First, she voluntarily committed adultery, and for that, she will be whipped eighty lashes. Second, she committed the crime of official document forgery, and for that, she will be whipped an additional twenty lashes."
She nodded to herself, seemingly already accepting her fate, as she listened, "Third, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, she will be flogged thirty times. And finally, for being an accomplice to the murder of the first Lady Jang, she will be sentenced to penal servitude for life."
Her eyes shot up immediately, finding it hard to accept that she would be separated from her husband. She had believed she, too, would be exiled along with him. But she quickly lowered her gaze as soon as she saw the glare the King had directed at her, as if daring her to complain about it.
Oh god, my life is over...
Noticing the King's patience wearing thin, San quickly concluded with the final sentencing, "Lastly, for the confinement, continuous abuse, and mistreatment of the minister's eldest daughter, an innocent citizen, the three young misses of the Jang family will be flogged thirty times each and sentenced to penal servitude for a total of thirty years."
All three of the sisters' jaws fell slack at their punishment. After living luxurious lives like spoiled brats for so long, they were now expected to be servants, performing hard labour for three decades. All their dreams of getting married and leading comfortable lives were shattered. The prospect of finding suitors after serving their sentences seemed bleak. Their lives were forever ruined, and things would never be the same.
"Now that that's settled, remove these individuals from my sight, and see to it that they receive their physical punishments by today. I don't want their presence contaminating my palace walls any longer than necessary. Moving on to the next agenda, let us discuss who will stand in as the interim Minister of Military Affairs until we elect a new one." The ruler grumbled, waving his hands dismissively.
Seonghwa grinned smugly, relishing the way your father's face fell as he absorbed His Majesty's words. The King fully intended to drive the point home, reminding him that, no matter how much he believed he contributed to the nation, he, too, was just as disposable. Consider it emotional torment for further punishment, if you will.
As the members of the Jang family were forcefully pulled to their feet and guided toward the palace torture chamber where all punishments for criminals were administered, the general bowed deeply, "Your Majesty, forgive this humble subject for not feeling too well. Would it be possible for me to excuse myself from the remainder of today's assembly?"
With a knowing glint in his eyes, the King nodded, "Of course, my boy. Nothing matters more than your well-being. I'll have Royal Secretary Choi send you the minutes of today's meeting later on."
All eyes were fixed on your husband as he confidently exited the hall, wearing an excessively pleased expression, looking a little too content to be feeling unwell as he had claimed. It became evident to everyone that he was plotting something, a scheme that even His Majesty was privy to and had tacitly approved.
"P-please, have mercy!"
Screams reverberated within the dim and eerie confines of the torture chamber, a place the general once frequented during his duties of interrogating spies, war criminals, and suspicious individuals to maintain peace within the nation.
The familiar sounds of your family's agonising cries filled his ears, and he couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips as he entered, "Ah yes, music to my ears."
Upon his arrival, all the royal guards present swiftly bowed deeply and greeted Seonghwa with respect, "Good day, General Park!" They dared not continue until he gave them a nod, "Go on, don't let me stop you. I'm only here to enjoy the show."
"Yes, sir!" They chanted in unison. To many young soldiers and palace guards, he was akin to a god, an embodiment of success they aspired to achieve one day. Therefore, his mere presence motivated them to perform their duties with increased ruthlessness and precision.
Taking a seat in the centre of the room, your husband bit his lip with a smug expression, locking eyes with your father whose gaze reflected anguish. The elderly man lay face down on a wooden table, enduring lash after lash on his already bloody and battered back. His painful ordeal was far from over.
Whimpering, your father pleaded, "S-Seonghwa, I'm s-still your father-in-law! Please, at least show a little mercy to your wife's father!" Beside him, his wife nodded pathetically, sharing the same painful fate. Meanwhile, the three daughters stood frozen in a corner, wrists cuffed, awaiting their turn to face their beatings.
A devilish laughter escaped the general as he shot a menacing glare at the former minister, "Oh, I'm sorry, was that supposed to make things any better? I would show you mercy if only you had shown my wife any. You shouldn't have said anything, you fool," Turning to the guard in charge of whipping your father, your husband ordered, "Not hard enough, soldier. I want to see his skin tear."
"Yes, sir!" Striking with increased force, the lashes landed on the old man's back, inflicting wounds that would take months to heal. The continuous shrieks of pain only served to widen the smile on Seonghwa's face, "And to think you were thanking His Majesty for his grace; you've underestimated the severity of being whipped, haven't you? Did you really think you were going to walk out of here with a small bruise? Dream on."
"Oh, I can't wait for all of you to experience the wonders of flogging! It will be delightful, a punishment perfectly suited for your kind." The general sang, eyeing the three girls slyly.
They cowered under his intense gaze, suddenly regretting every action they took on the day of your visit. Perhaps if they hadn't attempted any of those, they might have gotten away with a lighter sentence. But there was no point dwelling on such thoughts now.
"Father! Mother!" The girls cried, witnessing their parents only now completing the first half of their punishment. Before they could continue their wailing, guards approached them, saying, "Quiet down! Worry about yourselves instead; it's your turn."
The former minister and his wife looked practically lifeless by the time the guards were finished with their hundred lashes each. The skin on their backs was completely torn open, blood gushing out relentlessly. They were nearly unconscious by the time the guards moved them to separate poles, where they would be beaten with a heavy stick all over their bodies.
Letting out a small yawn, Seonghwa signalled for them to prepare for the flogging. This would be entertaining to witness; most criminals barely survived this punishment by the time it concluded. He would relish the idea of them being left in critical conditions.
"Enjoy yourselves! Thirty times each for what you've all done to my wife – just the perfect amount to leave you halfway to hell. Don't worry; you'll wish you were dead by the end of this. But rest assured, we will keep you alive," Your husband exclaimed with a clap of his hands, "Now, I want you to think of all the things you've done to my wife as you endure this. Can we all do that?"
In the ensuing silence, the guards approached each family member, forcefully striking them with the heavy sticks in their hands. With just one hit, all of them began howling in pain, "Answer the general! Can you all do as you are told?!"
"Y-yes! Yes!" All five of them sobbed miserably, and the general beamed, "Fantastic! Now, let the official flogging begin! The first one does not count, alright? Consider it warm up!"
The insanity in his eyes was genuinely terrifying, and your family was once again reminded of his reputation. Suddenly, it all made sense. This was how it felt to be a victim of his cruelty. They never should have sent you to him; that was their biggest mistake, and nothing they do or say could ever change that now.
"Yes, sir!"
And so it began, the screams that now filled the room were even more piercing than the ones during the first round of whipping.
Approaching each family member one by one, Seonghwa smirked, "Remember all the times you starved her?" Jinjoo nodded in between shrieks, "Good. And you, recall all the times you insulted her and made her feel small?" Jinhee repeated her sister's actions, nodding furiously, "Very good. And you, remember all the times you did something wrong and blamed it on her so that she would take your punishments for you?"
Jinah cried, tears and snot running down her sweaty face, "I'm sorry!" He shook his head, "Will saying a useless sorry change anything? Nope. Hit her harder, soldier," With a grin of approval, he moved on to your stepmother, "And you, recall all the times you kept her locked up in that prison cell you call her room?" Not wanting to suffer like her eldest, she nodded aggressively, "Good."
Finally stopping in front of your father, he crossed his arms over his chest, "And you, remember all the times you laid your hands on her? Your own daughter?" The former minister nodded quickly but was not spared, "Good, hit him even harder so he never forgets how it feels."
"Twenty-nine, thirty." The beatings stopped for the four women, and they collapsed one by one onto the floor like rag dolls. Blood trickled from their noses and the corners of their lips, their bodies covered in countless bruises and open wounds, soaking their clothes red. And that is only what can be seen on the outside; who knew what fatal internal injuries they could be suffering from.
With his hands propped on his hips, Seonghwa took in the sight with satisfaction, "Very well, some of these scars should last you for life. Now, you look as bad as the way you'd left my wife. Actually, worse. But that's good. I'm very happy with the outcome. Guards, take them away and make sure to send them to places where they're known to treat their servants poorly."
The girls sobbed upon hearing that, "General, please, have mercy! We've already suffered enough!" Your husband scoffed, "Mercy? Have you not been paying attention this entire time? I'm not known for that. Get them out of my sight."
As the guards dragged the wailing women out, they cried for their husband and father. The former minister yelled, still taking his twenty additional beatings as he watched his wife and daughters go, "W-will you not at least let me say my final goodbyes to them?"
"Minister, please don't make me laugh. Did you also allow my wife and her poor mother a final goodbye?" The old man had nothing to say at that, grunts of pain escaping his lips as he tried to endure the remainder of his punishment despite feeling like all of his insides had been beaten to mush at this point. He didn't have to look down to know that he was soaked in blood; he could feel the sting on his wounds whenever the slightest bit of wind blew past.
Just a bit more, and I'm free.
« Preview of Part 11 »
"Forty-nine, fifty." Your father sighed in relief when the punishment finally ceased. Collapsing to the ground upon being untied, he stared blankly ahead, feeling pain throughout his entire body. Slowly but surely, he slipped into unconsciousness due to the loss of blood.
Unfortunately, his respite was short-lived. A bucket of dirty water was abruptly dumped over him, causing him to scream in agony as the injuries on his body stung intensely, bringing tears to his eyes.
"Did you think it was over?" His blood ran cold as he noticed he was now tied to a chair, unable to move. With most of the guards gone, only him and Seonghwa remained.
"What do you think you're doing, general? I've completed all my physical punishments; you're supposed to banish me now!" The old man croaked, his eyes widening in fear as he noticed the dagger in your husband's hand.
The general burst into laughter, "Oh, minister, you can be quite slow at times. Did you genuinely believe that His Majesty's decision not to sentence you to death was an act of kindness? Who do you think requested your exile?"
"Y-you—"
Seonghwa smirked, "Indeed, it was me. Killing you would have been too merciful. No, I want you to endure a life so filled with pain that you wish for death every single day. Now, after seeing how skilled you were at begging all day, I believe you'd make a very talented beggar. Do you know what would make you a successful beggar?"
Tears streaming down his face, your father shook his head hopelessly as your husband traced the blade against his skin before whispering, "One without limbs."
That was the most violence I have ever written HAHA I had to channel my inner Joker for Seonghwa's character. Anyway, I hope that was satisfying enough!
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
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#edenesth#the way to this heart#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#park seonghwa#ateez seonghwa#arranged marriage au#joseon era#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa x you#ateez fic#historical au
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Hello Poly! The short stories you're putting out are absolutely making me feral. Thank you for all the anons and their creative minds and thank you for writing and expanding on it beautifully. You inspire me to write my own 😭😭 I've been thinking of an older reader Empress Consort and a much younger Commander Gojo and him continuously getting all the wrong conclusions and falling hard despite the Empress only using him for her own pleasure (he knows this but he can't stop his feelings anyway). Im gonna stop before I get carried away
You cant just leave me with this 10/10 take and leave gET BACK HERE-
you are the brains of the operation, not your idiot husband. He's the Emperor only in name; all the advisors and officials know who's pulling the true strings. While he's off in brothels, you maintain and ensure the kingdom prospers. He may have been born into royalty, but you fought to rule. You don't mind his sleazy behavior. His preoccupations leave the kingdom running smoothly, and its not like you've ever missed his touches.
Satoru is a stupid child when he catches your eye. Apart from his clan name and excellent swordsmanship, he has nothing going for him. He has no tact, often talks his head off, and is just 20 years old. Everyone tells you he's barely fit enough for a squire's post, but you don't listen to them. You've been needing to get rid of the current commander: A drunk that's only there due to nepotism. You choose Satoru because he looks easy to control. He's a child, eager to please, despite his brash nature. Smart, but his lack of aspirations leaves him open. You know with enough gold and women, you can tame him. He reminds you of a dog: treat-motivated, all bark; no bite, loyal. He's barely a dog, more like a yipping puppy.
For Satoru, it starts off as innocent admiration. You're strong. You keep your head held high. But you're also kind and generous. You're more than a decade older than him but he's never found someone so beautiful before.
The emperor doesn't deserve you.
It devolves into there. You're clearly trapped in your marriage. A beautiful, lonely, empress, locked in an ivory tower, silently begging for help. It doesn't help that you're practically teasing him with every interaction. You laugh at his jokes. Brief touches on his shoulder. Once you reached up to pluck a fallen flower out of his hair. You're in love with him, but you can't do anything about it because of your current marriage and your status.
Only he can save you.
Soon, Satoru realizes that once he puts his mind to it, he can do anything. It takes less than a decade for tensions to rise between the crown and the people. The secret of what the king's been doing is out. Using the people's money for whores while children are starving. The revolution bloomed underneath Satoru's fingertips.
He takes the throne with little difficulty. It helps that the Gojo clan also had a claim to the throne, which only furthered his rule. The day he is crowned, your miserable husband is stripped and hung.
You're technically a traitor to the throne, but Satoru would rather die than let you see the inside of a dungeon, much less the gallows. You're kept high up in an ivory tower, locked away for only his eyes to see.
You're a pampered prisoner, but still a prisoner. You aren't allowed to leave, you can't do anything but rot in your silk bedsheets. Such obstruction of freedom is enough to drive anyone to extremes. You're strong, but Satoru is stronger. A month and a half after your husband's death, you finally agree to marry him.
Even the most loyal dogs bite if their owners starve them enough.
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make shifting fun for you ♡
do you ever find yourself spiralling after every 'failed' shifting attempt? do you stress whenever you do your shifting method? or worry about what step is coming next, or worry whether you will shift? find yourself doubting your abilities?
shifting is supposed to be fun.
and this does not sound fun.
the number one thing i have been making sure to do when shifting, is to prioritise my comfortability and enjoyability when trying to shift.
i always try and make the process as enjoyable and comfortable as much as i can for myself.
shifting is supposed to be fun, right? it's exciting! shifting should be fun and enjoyable- heck, you're going to experience a whole other reality! a whole other life, a whole other self, experiencing your wildest dreams and fantasies!
how are you going to expect yourself to shift if you're still stressing over the process of shifting?
find or make a shifting method/process that'll make YOU enjoy shifting, and keep you motivated!
do things that you LOVE doing that will make YOU feel motivated to shift/more connected to your dr!
shifting should not feel like a chore. going to shift should not drain you. shifting should not be boring.
it should be a fun and exciting experience!
don't worry about what method is the most popular or most effective or easiest to the general community. ignore the trending shifting methods, subliminals, or guided meditations.
everyone has their own personal journey with shifting and there is no right or wrong way to shift.
focus on yourself first. work out what you like doing the most/what you enjoy doing the most, what your strengths and weaknesses are, and then work from there to find a method/process that works for you!
for example, whenever i shift, i always ensure that during my method, i:
a ) am feeling good! that i'm feeling excited, happy, good, comfortable and am enjoying the ride! i do not force myself to shift if i feel drained, tired, bored, or i feel that i am forcing myself to shift (you can still shift when feeling these things btw! but for me, i don't like to because personally i don't get good results when i do. however, remember that this is just a me thing!)
b ) that whatever method or steps i'm doing to shift makes me feel confident and assured that I WILL SHIFT. by the 'end' or at some point of my 'method' i truly feel that i am going to shift and i can shift, and this whole thing isn't just me 'attempting' or 'trying' to shift.
you love imagining random scenarios of your desired reality, but worried it's not 'proper visualisation' and you're just daydreaming or imagining? who cares! imagination IS reality and if it makes you feel closer to your dr, do it!
you hate visualising and you just want to say affirmations over and over again because that's what you're the most comfortable with and makes you feel confident, despite what other people tell you?
do it.
in my experience, all the times where i've just done whatever i feel like and makes me feel like i'm having the most fun, i end up feeling the most confident i ever will be in my shifting abilities! it's because when you're doing things you enjoy/love, naturally you'll shift to have a more positive and happier mindset!
it also helps me to stress less about the 'process' of shifting and rather, focus on the destination and anticipation of my desired reality!
however, this is just a small tip from me! please take this with a grain of salt 🌷
and if you've made it to the end, just know that YOU WILL SHIFT!
#desired reality#reality shifting#shifting#desired realities#shiftblr#shifting community#shifting realities#reality shifter#kpop shifting#loa#manifestation#manifesting#noyasaur#🪐 ― saturn's shifting advice!
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₊‧⁺˖ Moon sign observations
( photos are from pinterest )
keep in mind that I'm not a professional!!! these are my own & general observations! whole chart needs to be taken into consideration for accuracy.
⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊
aries moons:
Very bold, blunt with their words, impulsive, don't have much patience.
They need to move and need to feel, they up for an adventure anytime!
Planning? Nahh, if there's opportunity for something then they going for it.
Child-like curiosity
Only one spark needed and then BOOM! People can misunderstand their passion and think that they are doing things out of anger.
They might get annoyed at people, who seem like they "lack passion and/or drive"
taurus moons:
They can come off as emotionally unavailable, but that's not the case! Every moon sign has it's own way of dealing with their emotions, for taurus moons, it can be a bit harder to express this side of them.
I noticed that they will share stuff with you, if they starting to feel closer!
They really don't like being rushed, just let them move in their own speed! It's hard to get them mad but once you do.. oh boy
They need security ( especially financially ) and comfort, or else they can be crabby.
gemini moons:
Can be really big overthinkers, they can struggle with anxiety.
Need their freedom very much as its usually the case with air signs. They need someone who they can bounce ideas back and forth with. Mental stimulation is very important for these individuals.
Creative with the way they use words, the way they speak. Can be good writers, poets.
cancer moons:
The moon is at home!
They can be really good with kids, speak one language with them and understand their emotional worlds because of their caring and sensitive nature.
Can cry a lot! I know it's cliché, but its true that they can get emotional pretty quickly! Happy tears can be common for them! It's not a bad thing tho, love that for them <3
However since they feel so intensely, they can get overwhelmed by their own emotions.
Cancer placements are *THE* mother, they just know how to make you feel comfortable and cared for. Ofc if developed, if not, well, that's another story. They can still make you feel comfortable but it might not come from the heart the care they give to you, but from other motives..
leo moons:
They can be really really generous, especially to their loved one's. It might be hard for them to stand up for their self, even when others take advantage of their kindness and generosity, because they might take pride in being "the better person".
Dramatic for sure, especially when they get offended. They're not gonna admit it tho that they are, but it's gonna show in their behaviour.
They love to express themself in some creative form! Probably because they adore being praised, complimented. It gives them confidence.
virgo moons:
Might hide it well, or try to hide it but the perfectionist is inside them, like usually in all virgo placments.
They can get really sensitive if what they have planned doesn't work out.
Also, they don't like showing negative emotions, sadness, any emotion that might make you think that they don't have it together. They don't want people to worry about their well being, because they want you to see them, that "everything is fine, I'm okay" even when it's far from the truth.
Always worrying about something
⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭ ⭑ .
libra moons:
They try to be fair with everyone. They can be stressed out of situations when they have to decide. They don't want to hurt others feelings, but if the matter is serious, then they're gonna be able to choose wisely.
If you force them to pick a side, and don't let them think, they're gonna get really pissed of. Don't push them too hard!!
Do love pretty deeply and full of kindness, no one can tell me otherwise!!
Can take things to heart, and start thinking "am I like this? is that really true?"
Can be anxious about what other people think of them, but to the extend that is like really concerning.
Pinterest is their safe place with their mood boards.
scorpio moons:
Now they are just as emotional and deep as their water sisters, but their emotions are hidden? Like its hard to grasp what's up with them.
Their emotion world is very intense and extreme. It might be hard for them to share it with people. Can even feel paranoid about sharing stuff with other's, if there's not a strong bond.
They can be very intuitive, I wouldn't recommend playing with them ( well, just don't play with people in general ) but especially with them because they will see through you in a minute.
The people to turn to if you want to talk about heavy stuff
sagittarius moons:
Might be scared of missing out on opportunities.
Always learning, from bad from good! everything is a lesson after all, you gotta see the positive and the negative from the story.
Very curious about their surroundings, about everything tbh! They always need to expand their minds with new knowledge, new experiences, it can give them fulfillment.
Very inspiring people!
capricorn moons:
They have a hard time expressing their emotions, processing their emotions because they tend to repress it so much. When there's an emotional crisis, they might start working on something, like no matter what, they just start working so they don't have to pay attention to their emotions and all that.
They might have a tendency to overload themself with a lot of work. And then they can worry about that everything must have to be done in time.
They really don't like crying infront of others, and showing their vulnerable side.
They just want to be there for other people, and lend a helping hand.
A lot of them grew up in an environment that was unsteady, not reliable parents, absent parents ( especially mother ), They do alone well, sure, I mean they were forced to, but in some cases, if they get into a relationship, they can be quite clingy if you can give them the emotional comfort, peace that they crave for & which from they lacked as a child.
aquarius moons:
People can misunderstand these individuals, because to others, they might come off as too cold, and they might look like they don't care. Can give people the wrong impression.
They want connections, they want to be around other people, it's that, when they need to deal and process emotions, they're prefer to do it alone.
Because of the misunderstandings, they might choose to withdraw from others to protect themself and their peace.
what's on their mind is unpredictable.
pisces moons:
The dreamers! very spiritual souls
The fantasy world they create for their self is where they find the most peacefulness. They could escape here when something big happens, that might be hard for them to deal with in reality.
Can experience a lot of spooky, paranormal stuff in their dreams or irl.
It can be hard for them to move on from people, places, memories.
⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊⊹ ࣭
Thank you so much for reading!! Let me know if you found this post useful and if you resonated with it!! Wish you a lovely day/night!! take care <3
#astrology observations#astrology#moon#astro community#astro notes#moon sign#astrology tumblr#birth chart#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#virgo#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#libra
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my guide to wonyoungism, improve your life, glow up, be THAT girl:
🎀 have a routine: this is something I learned from being on therapy for so long. It is really important to have a routine because if not you can have bad sleeping, be tired all day, get bored easier, you won't be able to finish your responsabilities, it can bring you bad self esteem and in general is a complete mess.
🎀 work out: always do what's best for you and do what you feel comfortable doing but please! work! out! I'm such a lazy person and at some point it was really hard for me to have motivation to do anything, but once I put my mind into it, and force myself a bit and started with 10 mins of pilates everyday (since it was something easy to start with) my life and my self esteem improved a lot. Working out is another way to have schedules and a routine, also improves your self esteem by making you feel capable of doing stuff, and ofc is good for your body.
🎀 have a good skincare routine: first, do some research about your skin type and see what products can work better for you (you can also go to have a skincare treatment and ask the beautician or search on internet) but always do what's more comfortable and affordable for you, don't use stuff that influencers recommend bc you can alter you skin type based on the products you use too (as a beutician I know) Also don't DON'T do it everyday, some products can be used everyday like the cleanser but others not. As I said just do a good research. Besides skin stuff it's really interesting!!
🎀 improve your diet: with diet I don't mean to specifically have a diet, actually I'm a bit against them, since being strict about what we eat can cause stress and guiltiness, it's really important to have a balance, eating healthy at the end of the day means nothing if you don't enjoy it. And you can enjoy it by having fun creating new healthy recipes, doing a journal about your fav healthy recipes, buying new cookware (pink plates, pots, pans, etc) or eating a hamburguer, a chocolate cookie sometime
🎀 journal: this is something I do since 2014 lol it's without doubt one of the best things the human has created. It has helped me to improve my writing skills, to get to know me better, to vent about stuff idk how or whom to talk about, also make it fun! In my journal I vent and write about my feelings,fears, dreams, goals, etc but also write down my travels, concerts or fav kpop artists, decorate with stickers, a piece of confetti, even dried flowers!
🎀 hobbies: this is something I also learned recently on therapy, I mean we all had hobbies from time to time but do we know about the importance of having them? I spent this whole year doing nothing since I can't work or study, and without hobbies I can tell you life is too boring, and it can lead you to bad self esteem too I mean, I kinda got crazier for spending so much time alone with literally nothing to do. So find new and fun stuff to do just for the pleasure of doing it, you don't have to be the best at it. I bet you can find hobbies ideas on YouTube as well.
🎀 be more femenine: this is ofc an optional step but I think it can be important, since always either wonyoung or it girls usually look very femenine. Don't forget to make it a fun thing to do! Finding your aesthetic, maybe trying a new one, enjoy going shopping..you can be femenine with your clothing, with your skin care routine, with your jewlery...this is just about feeling beautiful and also powerful.
🎀 improve your behaviour towards other people: with this I mean basically being more open. To meet new people, to make new plans...also fixing your body gesture (at least mine is shit and It always end up hurting my back and shoulders)
🎀 affirmations: good affirmations are a thing, this I learned in therapy too. The way you talk to yourself is important and changing the mindset too. If you tell yourself "I won't be able" then for sure you won't. This is not an easy thing tho I know, but is a necessary thing. Forcing yourself to change your mind every time a negative thought pass by is a hardwork but is well payd, cause the price is your happiness. For this is VERY important to have some help and work things up in therapy. But to give you a little tip, surround yourself with good energy, put some pictures of good affirmations in your room, as background of your phone, even on a shirt!
🎀 enjoy and trust the process: as I kept saying in each step, making it something fun to do it would help you to don't feel it like an obligation cause it's not. It's ofc a responsability to improve your life so you don't fall in depressed behaviours for example, but by making it something fun, then you won't feel guilty if someday you don't feel like functioning and need a lazy day in bed. And by trusting the process, we keep motivated to keep going.
🌼hope this works for you, please let me know if so, have a great day and a great life! 🌼
#wonyoungism#glow up#glow up tips#that girl#it girl#hot summer girl#ive wonyoung#tips#trust the process#skin care
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more observations (lost count)✨
Hello guys! Life's been crazy lately and I barely have time to make any of the master posts I wanted to, so you'll be getting lost of observation posts that I've been collecting in my drafts for the past months. As always, enjoy!
❗️long post
work by astrobydalia
✨ Sagittarius and Aquarius are so fucking similar. Both of them are chaotic af, love their freedom and think they're smarter than everyone else. People who have both of these in their big 6 have the most unhinged
✨ Libra is WAY more obsessed with perfection than Virgo
✨ Whenever I had Libra or Taurus ASC on my Solar return chart I was lazy AS FUCK. I had no motivation to work whatsoever during those years, all I wanted to do was vibe and enjoy life. I also felt very relaxed and stress-free, when difficulties came I just went with the flow
✨ What is up with Gemini risings and always feeling intellectually insecure all the time? Literally their #1 insecurity is feeling like they are dumb or like they’re not good enough for highly abstract and intellectual tasks/professions. They come across as someone immature who lacks wisdom or has a superficial/simplistic view of things. I feel like this is because they attract people who are a bit of know-it-alls (Sagittarius DSC) and they have a reputation for being scattered-brained (Pisces 10th house) so people tent to infantilize them a lot.
^^^But let me tell you this not true at all, Gemini risings are some of the most brilliant people I’ve met with so much potential. Their problem is that they allow overthinking to get the best of them and end up doubting themselves 24/7. These are the type of people who have amazing ideas but they never pursue any them. They really struggle making decisions for themselves, they always need to ask for opinions first which is not a bad thing but this makes them come across as incapable or as someone who lacks self-sufficiency
✨ Mercurial signs (Virgo and Gemini) like to focus on concrete things and immediate reality, they process life by connecting one thing at a time and taking info as it comes, they focus on what's going on around them cause Mercury is all about multiplicity and details. With Jupiter signs on the other hand (Sag and Pisces) one thing about them is they don't care about details as long as things make sense as a whole, they see life from a more broad and general perspective, they prefer having a birds eye view of things because Jupiter is all about expansion and therefore it likes to encompass many things at once. This is why Virgo and Gemini rule mundane life themes and immediate reality while Sag and Pisces are more about general life lessons and higher knowledge
✨ Scorpio moons/8th house moons are the definition of an energy vampire fr. They just have a really poor understanding of healthy emotional boundaries, they expect you to give your all but aren't willing to reciprocate and always turn everything into a manipulation or mind game somehow which makes it pretty exhausting to be around them in the long run. Don't get me wrong, most of the ones I’ve met were very and good people but they always end up taking my energy away and make me feel emotionally burnt out
✨ Mercury-Mars aspects have this "it is what it is" mentality and really dislike over complicating things by reading too deep into them. They tend to think things exactly as they seem. This does not mean they're simplistic, on the contrary this makes them surprisingly insightful fast thinkers and are not the type to be easily fooled
✨ I've seen people saying that hard aspects between Mercury-Pluto makes people misunderstand your words. This is not true, this happens with Neptune cause Neptune rules delusion, but Pluto is a very blunt and straightforward planet cause it's all about revealing the dark truths. Mercury-Pluto aspects makes someone very deliberate with their words and they know exactly what to say to make their message stick. You will understand their words exactly how they want you to understand them. What happens with hard aspects is that the native tends to have a more provocative approach in the things they say, they don't care if you're offended by what they say as long as what they say makes an impact. People can misunderstand their intentions because of this, but not their words
✨ The ironic thing about Aquarius placements is that they are very good when it comes to connecting with the masses, the public usually feels very drawn to them because they're very good at appealing to collective values which makes them come across as relatable to many people as a result. However, when you actually try to relate to them or connect one-on-one, you will find yourself with someone that is surprisingly elusive, distant and more distrustful than Scorpio placements which is a huge contrast from the welcoming vibe they give off to the public. I've found that the only way you will get close to an Aquarius placements is on THEIR terms lmao, if they've decided they like you, it'll be them who will approach you and/or make the effort to engage with you
✨ A reocurring thing I've seen with Virgo placements is that they really dislike big changes and prefer to stay in control. I think this is not mentioned often cause it's kinda weird to say that about a mutable sign, but Virgos being mercury+earth ruled they feel comfortable relying on facts, data, observations, etc and they use all this tangible info to navigate reality, that's why they rule daily life and routines because they invest a lot of their energy on factually understanding and categorizing their reality (earth signs in general are very attached to the tangible). Their mutable nature shows in that they easily use their knowledge to adapt, find solutions and fix what’s wrong but when they are in situations where these "categories" prove to be useless (aka Pisces themes), they get very triggered cause that means they no longer have control of their reality
✨ That being said another reoccurring thing I’ve noticed with Virgo placements is that they love to predict things. But not in a mystical sense it’s more like they enjoy understanding things in such way that they’re able to easily put a label on them and easily predict what’s going on or how something works
✨ I have not seen a single Taurus placement who didn’t have the most insanely sexy and pleasant voice ever. Doesn’t matter if they sing of not, just hearing their voice is so delightful
✨ Aquarius Mercury really believe their opinions are the most ultimate and correct opinions out there. They are certain that their judgment is always 100% objective (aka always true) so in their mind if you slightly disagree with them that means you’re mediocre, dumb or narrow-minded.
✨ There's always a duality in all mutable signs. Sagittarius can be very humorous and optimistic but also very dark and profound. Gemini can be curious and chaotic but also very analytical and logical. Virgo can be picky and perfectionistic but also very permissive and conformist. Pisces can be very compassionate and wise but also very detached and clueless
✨ Neptune does not do well in air houses/signs at all simply because air energy rules (different types of) information and connections, while Neptune is all delusion and confusion. Also air energy is purely cerebral and rational while Neptune appeals to the unconscious
✨ I have not fact-checked this but I feel like it's safe to say that Mars rules testosterone. Testosterone is a hormone associated to violence or impulsive behavior, sex drive, red blood cells (blood), masculinity, etc That's literally all mars
✨ People always talk about how Capricorn moons have had a rough life but I've noticed this is also very true for Sagittarius Moons?? Responsibilities are not imposed on them like Capricorn, in their case they have to build up wisdom about life through pure and raw experience without anyone giving them a heads up or any pointers first, that's why they grow up feeling like they're fully on their own. Things work out for them at the end but they always have most MESSY life experience it's really crazy
✨ Both domicile and afflicted Mars are ambitious and determined but the main difference is that Libra/Taurus/Cancer Mars need to find some type of enjoyment or fulfillment in their goals in order to get motivated while Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio Mars find motivation in the challenge and endure through stuff they don't find pleasant
✨ From what I've seen males with Scorpio placements are very superficial and will gaslight as a lifestyle. They are the type of people who look the other way or brush things off or never takes anything seriously and I've noticed they do this so they never have to take accountability.
✨ Neptune/Pisces energy either gives “glamorous and ethereal” vibes or “weird in an extremely cringe way” vibes, there’s no in-between
✨ A reoccurring thing I've noticed with those who have Chiron in Taurus/2nd house or Chiron-Venus is that they often have dubious morality or double standards because they don't have a solid values
✨ Every single Libra Moon/rising female I’ve met embodied the material girl stereotype. They really have this “instagram girl” vibes to them if that makes sense
✨ Those with Sagittarius in the 5th house can actually find a lot of joy and happiness in becoming parents or they have a lot of fun with children
✨ Scorpio Mars can't stand not knowing what's going on around them and at first I thought this was bc they were suspicious/paranoid but then I realized it’s because they’re just controlling as shit. They come across as very chill and care fee but they’re actually SUPER controlling dude. Even when they know for sure that they can trust you and you’re doing nothing wrong they still want to keep taps on you and won’t leave you alone. They won't bluntly violate your privacy but will still find ways to always know what you're up to
✨ The resentful and spiteful stereotype associated to Scorpio actually belongs to Leo placements imo. They can be very reactive and childish when you insult their ego and will make it very known that they won't let it go
✨ Cancer North Node people always have some sort of issue or inner conflict with of having kids. They feel drawn to the idea of becoming a parent but deep down they low-key don't? I've also seen many women with this placement who had fertility issues
I have the theory that these natives are conflicted in this topic because they see family as an achievement or a societal expectation (Capricorn south node) so in this life time they have to know what it's like to desire a family for the right reasons and not because they feel like they 'should'
✨ Capricorn risings really are hyper-aware of their public image and how others perceive them. That's why they always end up becoming very popular and respected, cause they know very well where they "stand" publicly so they know how to successfully curate their own reputation. It's not surprising to see this placement a lot in celebrities
✨ Pluto in the 12th house are genuinely unsure of who they can trust which leads to a lot of paranoia and projection. The type to ignore the most obvious red flags but then automatically doubt your loyalty cus you spoke in a suspicious tone
✨ Pisces/12th house placements 🤝 disappearing. Y’all shit on Gemini for ghosting but have you ever met a pisces/12th houser?
✨ Saturn in 5th house people had parents (namely father) who were overly critical of them and their self-expression. Doesn’t necessarily mean they were unsupportive of the native but they were quite hard on the native’s creativity
✨ I've seen a lot of bullies/mean girls have Aquarius placements. Honorable mentions: virgo, Leo, libra
✨ Neptune-ASC people are really good at making themselves invisible when they want and/or making parts of themselves go completely unnoticed even if they're bluntly obvious. I've noticed they actually get away with a lot cause they have this tendency to not be accurately seen by others if that makes sense
✨ Neurodivergent individuals usually have Mercury harshly aspecting (conjunction, square, opposition and inconjuction) Uranus and Saturn. Said Mercury is more often than not in a water house/sign/degree or in Aries. Of course not everyone with these aspects will be neurodivergent, but it's just a pattern I've seen
✨ Pluto-ASC people most of the times fail to have a lighthearted view towards life. They always want to look beyond the surface of things which doesn't really allow them to enjoy life as it is. They often get a reputation for looking too deep into everything and in turn the Pluto-asc native often sees others as superficial
✨ Virgo risings are huge conformist and won’t go after anything that’s outside their immediate boundaries. They only make an effort towards things that are accessible and will quickly lose interest in anything that has difficult availability or requires them to go way out of their comfort zone. They're overall pretty self-serving.
✨ I know several people diagnosed with OCD. All of them have Virgo AND 6th house placements, 22º in their big 3, Scorpio Mercury/Moon and Mercury dominance
work by astrobydalia
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TMS - Author's note (Arc 1)
Today I'm stepping up to talk about TMS for a while. It's going to be a lot of blah blah, no TLDR, so hang in there or save it for later if you're brave enough, haha (¯▿¯)
So, another chapter of TMS draws to a close, with the difference that this time it's a whole saga that's coming to an end! That's a big relief for me, given that we recently celebrated the comic's 4th anniversary! That's almost the entire duration of my college life, and that's both an impressive and terrifying achievement lol.
The comic is divided into 3 arcs, each separated by an interlude. The first runs from part 1 to 8, with 201 pages total (wow!). In it, you are introduced to Mel, a young skeleton with a rather unclear past, who accidentally arrives in a a foreign timeline, along with other well known skeletons. Nowadays it's just an isekai haha. Throughout the arc, she proves to be a cautious Monster, quiet and somewhat withdrawn compared to the other skeletons we come across, notably Rus, Blue and Axe, who each got their own sequences.
Still, Mel in the last few scenes is starting to show more initiative, and the interlude will make this even more obvious, but we can expect her to open up a lot more during the next Arc, about her past, motives, goals and thoughts.
I could go on at length about what's in store for us in the interlude, but given that it's due for release sometime in 2024, I'm going to talk about the general story line instead. Although we follow Mel who is foreign to what's going on in this universe prior to her arrival, the other characters and events suggest that strange phenomena are taking place in Ebott, leading many people to become embroiled in a highly unusual affair. Crossing timelines, earthquakes, mysterious apparitions in the forest, something is afoot and the situation seems to be at a turning point when Mellow gets here.
Everyone has their own way of dealing with the situation and what to do next. Some are serious and pragmatic, like Black, others optimistic, like Blue, and others, like Papyrus, find themselves completely backed into a corner, forced to do their best to fix whatever needs to be.
A special case, however, is Axe, whom Mel meets in the forest as she investigates Mt. Ebott. The two have diametrically opposed views of their current condition. One wants to return to her world by any means necessary, regardless of the advantages of a peaceful world. The other, not so much. Both refuse to talk about their past and ignore the other's circumstances, but a sense of familiarity drives them to try to convince the other to stay or go. These are two stark positions to reconcile, and while we can expect Blue and the other skeletons to have their own views on the subject too, Mel and Axe are strangely "committed" in this interraction and resort to violence, spurred on by a unknown substance that causes Axe to momentarily lose control.
Mel is wounded, Axe unconscious, and the status quo disrupted. Other consequences follow this confrontation, and several questions are raised: Can Blue really help Mel when Axe accuses him of having already given up on going home himself? What is this mysterious entity Axe came across a few days earlier? The vibrations? What was that substance that made him go berserk? And what made him stop? Can we trust Mel and what she tells us? And many others.
Because as I'm sure many of you have come to realize, Mel has proven to be a rather unreliable narrator (or at least character since you don't follow her actual POV). Blatantly lying or omitting facts to others and readers alike, it's hard to know her next move and whether she's genuinely forgotten important infos (for it's well established at this stage that she has hazy memories and that they continue to deteriorate. The same applies to her health).
In the same way, each part of TMS so far has raised more questions than it has answered, but I can confidently say that the road is paved for Arc 2 to answer and put in perspective most of them, ahah.
Ah, this is also the moment when I can announce that ALL skeletons will be featured in the Interlude. Should be. Hopefully.
I'd also like to point out a few narrative changes for Act 2! The central characters, in particular. Original cast characters such as Undyne, Metatton and a veiled character will be more formally introduced, but we'll also meet up with characters we've already bumped into, but in a much more concrete way, such as Frisk and Alphys. I can't wait for you to get to know them! You can also expect more pov changes, more elipses and so on. Things are moving fast.
But that begs the question. When is it due? As said before, the first Arc lasted 4 years and I'm entering my last (and most crucial) year of college. I still don't know if I'll have time to get much of it done in 2025, but on the other hand, I'd like to strike while the iron's hot lest TMS be discontinued after a 1-year hiatus and my entry into the working world. Student loan, life and all. There are still plenty of things I'd like to bring to this project, and I now have the skills to actually carry them out, but on the other hand, the time involved has also increased exponentially.
Tbh with you, as an animation student, it's been one of my dreams since 2020 to do one of TMS's sequences in animatic or full anim, or even a trailer for the comic! But as a solo team, it's just unreasonable and I know it. But the parasite ----. Don't get me wrong, I could, but it would take me months and it's just not realistic when 80% of my time has to go into professionnal work that goes into my portefolio or adult stuff. I can't affort to invest time in solo-ing it or to recruit and lead a team over one side project of mine ( ´ ▿ ` ) So we'll most likely stick to classic pages.
But the same goes for collabs, community events, side stories, asks, edits, dubs, testing other platforms, regular animatics. Love all of that. Really. But I never have the time to because, man, I'd love to actually finish TMS someday ahah. It all comes back to the age-old problem of “lots of ideas, little time”, and it's so frustrating but, it's a choice I have to stick to, so bear with me as I vent my frustration. Just for tonight (´ ∀ `, *)
So, yes. Act 2. Next year? Probably? It's a long interlude, so you'll get smth in the meantime, but it's likely to decide the future of TMS and whether Act 2 sees the light of day as I imagine it or if...well, something else replaces it.
bringing back this doodle cuz it seems fiting lol
Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for your engagement with Part 8!
I don't know how other comic artists experience it, but for me it's a very isolated work, and as much as I love working alone, I enjoy the interaction with readers most of all.
Seeing people losing their mind over a serious scene, or chuckling at a dumb gag, or just simping over the characters and art. It's just great, and very rewarding. Likewise, I have a blast answering questions about the TMS universe, reading tags and receiving memes, witnessing people go increasingly mad with messages full of indecipherable screams and hearts. Makes me giggle and kick my feet everytime and I can't wait to drop the next lore bomb or funny scene bwahahah
And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a special word of thanks to the legions of rebloggers who make it their business to spread the word about TMS. You sweet, lovely, candy scented folks. And to my dear mutuals - with whom I interact objectively so little - who have no idea how a single message or note from them drives me bonkers. Thanks for dropping by. And of course to my super Patreons who support me despite the sparse updates, but to whom I'm more than grateful. Love you all.
Sounds like a farewell message. It's not lol. Just making sure they get the love they deserve.
The post is getting long and I'm kind of done pretending I know how to write organized notes so to wrap things up, here's an exhaustive list of what I'd like to get done this year and/or discuss in more detail another day. •Make a new masterpost (for Act 2) •Analyze/Comment certain sequences from Act 1 to clarify or give context •Redraw and rewrite part 1 and 2 •Make more bonus content again *ahahahahahaha*
•Re open or close the Discord (partially abandoned and it's all on me, but I'm still mulling it over).
•Finish the Interlude and enjoy and nice hiatus
And that's about it? Congratulation for reading this and making it this far! You were there!
Be well, and see you next time.
Seirin-
First part | Prev | Next (INTERLUDE)
Ko-fi | Patreon | Comic | Commissions | To support the comic
#txt#seirin talks#the missing scarf#author's note#lots of rambling but that's what those are for aren't they#a day to celebrate wo~hooo#this is a save point if you're reading the comics - take a break
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Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵
Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)
Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻♂️
Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.
NSFW contents under the cut 😉
Erwin Smith
Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.
Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.
He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.
But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.
Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.
Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.
His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.
His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.
Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.
When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.
When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.
Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.
I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.
When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.
Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.
But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.
You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.
Levi Ackerman
Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.
Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.
Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.
Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.
However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...
It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.
That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)
Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.
Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.
Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.
Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.
He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.
Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.
Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.
After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.
He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.
A bath sounds good now.
Hanji Zoë
Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.
Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.
So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.
And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.
"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.
You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.
Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.
"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.
You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."
Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.
With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)
For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.
Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.
With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.
When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.
Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.
Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.
Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.
"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."
If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!
#attack on titan#attack on titan x reader#erwin smith#erwin smith x reader#erwin x reader#levi ackerman#levi ackerman x reader#levi x reader#hange zoe#hange zoë#hange zoe x reader#hange zoë x reader#hanji zoe#hanji x reader#sin content#mine#gender neutral reader#erwin smut#levi smut#hange smut#hanji smut
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† progress : hawks.
❥ scenario: hawks and his love life ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ this was a request <3
let me start off by saying i approve of the virgin hawks hc because.. i know everyone seems to think all the cool dudes get laid constantly - but hawks has a brain, things he can't let get compromised, is basically government property and well, probably has better things to do. i find it amusing. ( same with dabi because.. well- we won't go there. )
ANYWAY.
let's start off with the type of person who is going to catch his attention. he's going to be attracted to someone who's confident and kind because, at the end of the day, he needs someone who is going to be kind to him. someone genuine and possibly doesn't even take much of his hero persona into consideration. happy to be with hawks but proud to be with keigo. he's drawn to someone who seems.. unique? i'm not sure how to word what i'm trying to say but it's someone who just - radiates some type of gentleness that he's probably mesmerized by. he would be even more screwed if she wasn't the type to keep up with heroes and asked who he was.
without being weird about it, he'd start observing her, taking in her likes, dislikes, habits, favorite things.. just information he'd file away for use later on. somehow, finding out those little things would just have him falling more and more. he'd keep things light, though, playful and easy, testing how everything went with her. he would never, at any point, think to rush anything because not only could that ruin things but it could potentially put her in danger.
despite how in his head he is and control of things, he wouldn't even realize how rapidly his feelings were evolving until one night, sitting in the break room and listening to her laugh out in the hall. oh - he was actually falling for some random office worker? he would absolutely struggle with how dangerous that was but god, the way his heart seemed to pick up hearing that sound. he was a lot more invested in things than he realized.
her company would become his favorite thing but he would still be cautious for a while. he would feel himself becoming protective over her, telling himself that the last thing he needs is to have her hurt. was that his place, though? he rationalized that she was still just a citizen.
✧*̥˚ getting her attention *̥˚✧
no one can tell me hawks isn't awful at flirting but the way he says shitty pick up lines still just works out? however, he'd feel defeated when he pulled the 'if you were a hero, you'd be my sidekick for life' and you frowned, asking why you wouldn't be able to be a pro on your own. he really should have seen that coming. maybe pick up lines weren't the best route but he still tossed a few out here and there. he's kind of used to people enjoying him.. in general and that being his charm.
he would be the type to, later on, bring you gifts ( he's a bird. lets be real. ) such as things he knew were your favorite like little snacks and drinks, maybe a book or two. maybe smaller things related to comments or inside jokes. this is absolutely the reason you have a pin with a possum on it. he's not against going big when it's called for, arranging more grand dates and trying to impress you.
he is, any second he gets, there for you. for whatever you need. sick? he's not the best nurse but he tries. upset? his shoulder is there. no motivation? did you know feathers can make great pompoms?
let's get into what i'm sure everyone is waiting for: the moment he feels is right to confess, hawks is dropped and keigo is basically baring his soul to you. the playfulness, the teasing; it's gone in that moment as he takes a deep breath. 'you mean a lot to me, you know? and.. i'd really like to see where this can go.' it wouldn't be a lot of frills and sweet words, it would be serious.. wanting you to know he truly meant it when he was telling you how he felt and how he wants to be with you.
✧*̥˚ first tiny drabble *̥˚✧
the sun was beginning to set, painting the city with golden hues as you pushed your way out of the coffee shop, order in hand and moving quickly. you were late for a meeting, not paying attention and attempting to get your vibrating phone out of your pocket without throwing anything else onto the ground. the lack of attention lead to a collision that sent her coffee tumbling to the ground and time to briefly stop.
'shit, i'm so sorry!' you exclaimed, honestly not sure what to do first, a hand coming up to rub your face. it took a second, but you finally looked at the person in front of you, blond hair and a pair of crimson wings folded in neatly. you blinked a few times.
he waved a hand at you dismissively. 'hey, no harm done,' a charming smile forming as he tilted his head, 'should've been watching where i was going.'
the words almost didn't register to you, gaze slipping to the red feathers occasionally. 'thanks but, uh.. are you, like, cosplaying or something?' it was taking a good bit of self control to not reach out and touch but you reminded yourself that was rude.
he was clearly amused, eyebrow raising slowly. 'cosplaying?'
you gestured to him. 'yeah, like, dressing up as a character? your wings are.. super realistic.' no, it didn't cross your mind that they could be real.
hawks shook his head, laughing softly. 'not cosplay. these are the real deal.' as if to back up his words, he stretched them out a little, careful of those around.
you were confused but also mesmerized; they were so pretty. 'wait wait, are you one of those pro heroes or something?'
'bingo, guilty as charged.' he answered, settling his wings back in and studying you for a moment, finding the display endearing in a way. 'hawks, at your service.'
'like.. the bird..?'
he was having field day with your responses. 'yeah, that's the one.. like the bird.' he mused. 'you really don't know who i am?'
your lips pursed a little before you replied. 'i don't really get into the whole heroes thing, sorry. i've got my own job and life to worry about.' it wasn't meant to sound rude or anything but you had enough on your plate than to worry about who was saving what. 'kind of live under a rock when it comes to those things.'
if he didn't know any better, he could have sworn his heart clenched, being unknown to someone just fed into his little delusions. 'it's refreshing, no need to apologize. most people recognize me immediately, it can get tiring, so it's nice to see someone who doesn't see me as a hero, i guess.'
'well.. i'm y/n,' you introduced, offering up a smile. 'sorry about the coffee thing.'
his shoulders lifted in a shrug. 'how about i make it up to you? there's a place around the corner that's pretty great. we can grab another coffee and you can tell me about living under that rock of yours.'
did the meeting even matter? you were sure someone would take notes. you'll just.. say you got sick while out for a break. you nodded to yourself, as if to confirm the story. 'alright, lead the way.'
offering your shoulder a barely there nudge, he began walking with you at his side. you, on the other hand, were still watching him, glancing to his wings and growing more and more curious. what you didn't expect, was such a chance meeting having the potential to turn your entire world upside down.
-
✧*̥˚ notes *̥˚✧
it's not nearly as long ; u ; but, i do have another drabble i threw together, if anyone wants it. this is basically just a basis of hawks having feelings, being scared of those feelings then saying fuck it.
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Do you have an Ao3 and/or links to the konig fanfics?
Oh!! Hello! I'm sorry I took long time to answer. You can find many König fanfic in 'König x reader' tag or König's tags in general.
But if you asked me did I have any favorite fanfic of König in Ao3, then I will gladly tell you *inhale*
MDNI! because the fanfic I'm going to share are kinda nsfw!!
But first enjoy this art I made based on the first fanfic I'm going to insert *giggling and burying myself in shame*
Alright!!! The first fanfic is *drums rolls*
1. Trapper, Keeper by @/tinypandacakes
link:
LET ME START BY HOW I REALLY LOVE THIS FANFIC!!?!?! I really love the pacing and the slow burn is *chef's kiss* I also love the thrilling atmosphere and the mystery 👀
Also I love how the reader narrated their thoughts, it makes us understand her better and can feel the feeling she's been through.
AND THEIR KÖNIG?!! MANNNN!! He sure give us an icky feeling but still make us think "I want this man so bad :(" You don't know what his motivation to the reader and that was make him an interesting character
I really recommend you to read it if you're into dark romance! and please support the author 💖
2. Die Zeit mit dir war schön by @/MangoGuy
I.. yeah, I'm a sucker for childhood friend troupe hahah.
The fact I run straight to my sister just so I can borrow her Ao3 account when I realized I don't see this fic in my search bar is enough to answer how desperate I love this fic.
Like Trapper,Keeper fic, this one make you feels like you're in the story! I also love how reader relationship with people around them. It feels like I can be related to them hahaha. The plot was really simple and easy to follow.
I really recommend you to read this if you want something light reading
#könig cod#cod mw2#doodle#konig mw2#könig#konig call of duty#konig#könig x you#könig x reader#könig x y/n#yandere könig
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