#gary i need to be outside

[baravaggio]

well...the smoke makes for some gorgeous lighting 😓

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from Underline the Black 70 (!!!!):

‘This is going to be so much easier than you think it is,’ Gary said, modulating his voice, leaning into it. ‘I know you can resist the hypnosis, and I know you’re scared, I can smell it. But this is one of the most harmless things we’ve ever done. Think of everything you’ve been through since you’ve gotten here, from the medical exam to a corrupted heat, to unexpected surgery, to an extremely unfair peak alpha using directives on you.’ Efnisien made a sound of breathless amusement. ‘This is going to be easier, Efnisien, I promise.’ A shaking breath, and it was like something in Efnisien unlocked, and he took a hesitant step towards the fence-line. Gary’s arm dropped so he could guide Efnisien by the small of his back once more, and they got quite far this time. Far enough that Gary thought they’d get all the way to the gate. Efnisien stopped again. He turned and looked over his shoulder at the rest of the grounds. ‘When you think about it, I don’t need to leave,’ Efnisien said. ‘It’s probably not even a good idea to teach me to leave. I mean you shouldn’t teach someone who’s tried to escape so many times how to be outside.’

[gingergari]

things they can do:

❌ tie their own shoes

✅ control fire

i’ve been sitting on this for way too long, woe mela and pera upon ye (lore under the cut)

[leeloooonfire]

based on this post about Steve's internalized bi-phobia:

Steve has known for years.

And how could he not when Tommy's freckles come back tenfold each spring like a flower peaking it's head through the last layer of snow? Or when Matthew Carver's hair have a reddish brown tone that turns blond after they spent the last days before summer break practising outside and remind Steve of liquid gold? Or when he watches Star Wars and Harrison Ford, rugged and witty, comes into view and twists his stomach in knots? How could he not know?!

Steve knows he finds guys as attractive as girls, known for many, many years. But.

But he can't. Not when Tommy sneers at that boy in their literature class who likes flamboyant clothes and wants to be an actor on Broadway. Not when the people they meet in Indi who are like Robin and Eddie 'fully queer' and talk about people like Steve as if they're traitors and scams. Not when he reads the newspaper and is assaulted by Reagan and his folk preaching about the 'fag pandemic' or how his father nods in approval and mutters 'another sinner gone for good' when the news play on TV and they occasionally mention the crisis that kills people like Robin and Eddie and him.

Like him....

It doesn't matter how much he loves sleeping with his nose pressed against Eddie's collarbone or that he thinks he'd like to kiss Eddie and hold his hands and wake up beside him until they're old and wrinkly and complain about bad knees.

He is, but he cannot be a queer, half a fairy '50% like me, 50% like Eddie' as Robin jokes.

He will not be a bisexual, he can keep it inside, keep it hidden, buried deep inside him no matter how much it pains him. He can be the straight friend who goes to pride and bakes rainbow cakes and marries a woman even though his heart screams in an ear ringing cacophony, 'Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie!'

This is how his 20s go: loud and hurting and yearning and hiding and more noticeably being disgusted and ashamed of himself for simply being able to love men the way he can love women.

He's 29 when his wife, Becky, leaves him. It's not just Eddie and this shameful secret that weights heavy on their relationship, but the scars and all the other secrets he is unable to explain to her that drive Becky finally away - back to Boston. She leaves him alone in that tiny house they bought three years ago with their Saint Bernard puppy they lovingly named Bernadette.

He's 30 when he goes to a coffee meeting of the bisexual group meeting in Chicago, nearly turning the car multiple times, hands and knees sweaty with fear that they won't want him there. They do want him there, welcome him with open arms, and talk about things Steve knows all too well: 'When I fell in love with the first girl, I ran. I like men just fine, so I hid my crush. It's just easier, when your parents hate gays, when the world is shaming our community, when we're dying.' He finds a second home there, and learns - learns about queerness and bisexuality, about trans and gender non conforming people and physical attraction versus emotional attraction. He learns about his past and present and about his future, about their history and where they want to go, how they want to mold their world to fit people like them into it without the pain and the hiding.

Steve is 33 when he finally comes out to everyone dear to him. To the kids who aren't kids anymore and to Joyce and Hopper, and then his parents. this does not go well, but Steve doesn't want, doesn't need their validation anymore. He has his family, his friends, his support system who love him not regardless of his sexuality but because of it, love him because it's part of him. He comes out to Becky, too and that goes much better. they want to be friends, in the future. She's also met Gary who works the the NY Times and wants her to follow him into the big city. So Steve is looking forward how that goes, their tentative friendship.

He is 34 when Eddie comes back from his latest world tour and wants to take a break to rekindle with his uncle, to write new songs, to take a breather. It's only natural that Eddie moves into Steve's guest room and takes over his space on the couch where he cuddles Bernadette while Steve is in the kitchen and makes them grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner.

Its even more natural when their feet meet while watching a movie and they lean into each other in the kitchen, dawn barely there, while they wait for the coffee maker to finish.

Steve's 35 when Eddie finally kisses him and he kisses back. No hurt, no shame, no guilt gnawing on him, Steve finally allows himself to be with the person he truly wants - regardless of their gender.

[thelaisydazy]

We find out it’s everyone’s favorite puppy’s birthday and bake a dog friendly cake for the best baby

and some cookies for the 141 too I guess

mostly for everyone’s favorite firefighting puppy

The goodest boy NEEDS HIS CAKE

----

It was well after closing and you were still at the bakery. You’d heard through Johnny that it was Riley’s birthday today and you wanted to drop off something for the pup. Luckily, your boss was more than happy to let you use the bakery to prepare a little doggy cake and a tray of cookies. 

Covered in flour and icing made from greek yogurt and peanut butter, you admired your work. You weren’t exactly skilled at cake decorating, but even you had to admit the little cake looked cute. It was simple, just some nice icing swirls. The cookies were even simpler, just a batch of plain sugar cookies.

You loaded everything into boxes and balanced them in your arms as you locked the door. You spare a look at the gray sky, you had to hurry up and drop everything off before it started to rain.

It wasn’t easy, but after a while you finally managed to reach the station house. Using the heel of your shoe, you knock on the side door. 

It’s Kyle that greets you, that beautiful smile on his face. “Hello luv,” he says warmly before his eyes flicker to the boxes in your arms. Without asking he reaches to lift them from your arms. “What’re you doing here?”

“Johnny mentioned it was Riley’s birthday,” you say smiling back at him as he takes the boxes. “I wanted to drop off some goodies. There’s a dog-safe cake for Riley and some sugar cookies for the rest of you.”

“Gaz!” You hear Johnny call from further inside. “Is Simon back wi’ Riley?” He rounds the corner, spotting you with a wide grin. “Bonnie!”

“Our sweet thing came to drop off cake and cookies,” Kyle said, shuffling back as Johnny came running up. “I was about to invite them in.”

“Oh, no I don’t wanna impose,” you said. “Besides, I should head home before the rain starts.”

Almost on cue, the sky opened up, dumping buckets of water outside. 

“Or maybe I could stick around..”

“That’s th’ spirit!” Johnny laughed. “C’mon, we’re get’n set upstairs.” 

You follow Kyle and Johnny upstairs, greeting Price and Gary with a smile. Price was standing at the base of a ladder, cigar between his lips as he held the ladder steady for Gary, who was at the top hanging some blue and yellow streamers. “What have we got here?” Price asks, looking you over. 

“Cake for Riley,” Kyle answers, placing the boxes down  on a counter. 

“An’ cookies!” Johnny piped in, opening the cookie box and swiping one for himself. Kyle shooed him away before he could take any more. 

A few moments later, the door opens and Simon comes trudging in, Riley in tow. They’re both soaked, but they perk up as soon as they see you. Riley’s leash slips from Simon’s hand as the dog runs for the cookie in Johnny’s hand.

You grab a dish towel from the kitchen and walk up to Simon, tossing it over his wet hair. “You got rained on,” you giggle. He hums in response, bending so you can dry his hair more easily, just happy to be standing near you.

[thebearer]

follow me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: the bear needs a social media rebrand. sydney hired you, and carmen gets more than just followers after meeting you.

an: bad descript i'm sorry lol. basically you're a social media manager and carmen likes you lol or how you and carmen meet <3 also thinking this will be a part 1???? lmk if you want a part 2!!!

contains: reader is a social media manager. language. carmen denying himself happiness ofc. mentions of mikey. fluff, fluff, fluff!!!

“What the hell is this?” Sydney’s voice raised, brow raised even higher to heighten her suspicions. Maybe her disgust. 

After Carmen looked at the snarl on her face, he decided it was definitely disgust. 

“What?” Carmen shrugged, looking at the screen in front of him. “It’s the, uh, The Beef’s old Instagram.” 

“Right.” Sydney said slowly, blinking at Carmen obviously. “The Beef, and we are not that anymore. We are The Bear.” She scrolled for a moment. “They also haven’t posted since twenty-twenty, which is-” 

“-Well, Mikey ran it, alright?” Carmen huffed, glaring at Sydney with annoyance. “I just found the fuckin’ password on a fucking gum wrapper in a folder labeled ‘important shit’ so I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Sydney nodded slowly, looking back at the phone, before sighing deeply. “I know what you should do.” She said, typing on her phone. Carmen grunted, still looking at the piles of order forms for produce in front of him. “You need a social media manager, because Carm, this? It's not gonna work.” 

“Social media what?” Carmen’s brows creased, shaking his head. “I don’t- no, I don’t need to do that. I’ll just, I’ll get Gary or fuckin’ Sweeps or Fak to run-”

“No, no, Carmen, seriously? Look at this. There’s- oh my God- there’s a thing here that says bring your own plate and you’ll get a free drink, Carmen… What the fuck?” Sydney sighed, shaking her head at him. 

Carmen nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I-I’m thinking that was a, uh, a Mikey special.” He muttered, pinching his eyes shut. “I can’t afford to hire someone on the payroll for that long, ok? Not when I could hire another hostess or-or a runner.” 

“They only come in to revamp and get it started. Just a little kick start for now. To get us started.” Sydney explained, clicking on her screen. “Look, I have a mutual friend with this girl who’s really fuckin’ good, ok? She did Lobo’s that pizza place? Got them from two hundred to eighteen thousand followers in like two or three months.” 

Carmen’s eyes flashed, looking at Sydney with a raised brow. “Seriously? Fuck…” Carmen looked at the screen, the crisp photos, videos, fun and trendy- vibrant and alluring. He hated to admit it, but it was good. 

“Look, Carm, it’s free advertising, ok? You catch the influencers if it goes viral. Could really put this place out there.” Sydney countered. “It’d be a lot cheaper than paying for some shitty advertisement on the news that no one watches anyways. Could bring in a lot of business and attention.” 

Carmen’s fingers drummed against the counter, sighing sharply. “Fine, whatever, see if you can get her in and just… Just tell me how much I need to put aside, alright? I’ll push the new glasses until then.” 

Sydney smiled triumphantly, nodding at Carmen. “Yes, Chef.” She saluted, walking out of the office. 

Three days later, you were standing outside of The Bear, newly opened, freshly renovated, and steady but not booming. “Uh, excuse me?” You waved through the window at the man in the beanie, looking at you carefully. 

“Hey, we’re closed until dinner, alright? But you can-” 

“Oh, no. I, uh, I’m not here for eating.” You cringed, shaking your head. “I’m looking for Sydney? Or Carmen? I’m the new social media person?” 

“Social media?” The man repeated, pushing the door open further. “Oh, shit! You’re the girl who does the, uh, Lobo and Avec!” 

“Yeah, I am.” You blushed, walking into the restaurant. 

“I love watching those reels of the asmr cutting the bread. Ugh, I watch it every night before going to bed.” The guy laughed, locking the door behind you. “Oh, I’m Marcus by the way.” 

You took his extended hand, introducing yourself, while you took in the fixtures on the wall, the art, the overall ambiance. “I am going to get Carmen, but you can stay right here if you want.” Marcus grinned, pushing the sliding doors open. 

You set your things down, pulling out your notebook, and looking around the restaurant. You knew that this was once The Beef, Sydney had sent you a few things about Carmen’s credentials and you looked up the rest. Impressed was an understatement, a guy your age that had ran the best restaurant in the world? Quite possibly was the best chef in the world or at least Chicago and needed your help? You were nervous, to say the least. 

Marcus called your name, making you jump slightly as you turned around. “Uh, so this is Carmen. He’s the owner, the head chef.” 

“Hi,” You were met with piercing blue eyes, hidden under a stray blonde lock of hair. Carmen’s hand reached for yours. “Nice to meet you. Sydney, uh, she couldn’t stop tellin’ me about your work. Thank you for helpin’ us out.” 

“No, no, thank you.” You reached for his hand, strong, a little rough, trying not to stare at his inked fingers. “It’s a pleasure to work with you. She told me a little about you, about the restaurant. It’s very impressive. Surprised you needed me.” You grinned. 

Carmen bit back a smile, looking down to hide his blush. Fuck, Sydney said you were good at your job, she failed to mention that you were so fuckin’ pretty too. Carmen could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, taking flight like he was a middle schooler again with a school yard crush. 

“So, if you have time, I want to go over some goals with you?” You say, gripping your notebook tightly. 

“Goals. Right, uh,” Carmen looked through the back doors. “Sydney is on her break, and-and my sister, Sugar- well, her name is Natalie, she’s like our manager. Richie too, uh, shit- I’m sorry that’s a lot of people, I know.” Carmen shook his head, an anxious laugh pealing out from his lips. “Those are the people you need to talk to, basically. I can grab them, just-” 

“-But you’re the owner, right?” You asked, lifting a brow gently. 

“No, I mean, yeah, I am.” Carmen stuttered. 

“Then I need to talk to you, too.” You gave him a small smile. “I mean, you know this place better than anyone, right? All the ins and outs? And from what Sydney told me, you redid this entire place. Right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Carmen nodded. Fuck, he kept staring at your lips, he didn’t mean to, he was just… he was distracted. 

“So, we can all meet if you want, or I can do it one at a time.” You pulled your pen out of your notebook, looking at him with a gentle smile. It had Carmen’s heart racing. “I just have a few questions about the vision.” 

“The vision?” Carmen repeated, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, the vision.” You smiled. “Just… tell me about this place. Tell me about you.” You slid into the chair across from him. 

Carmen wiped his hands on his pants, turning to look at the doors, hoping someone would come to his rescue. He wasn’t good at talking, especially not to pretty girls, especially about himself. Still, he couldn’t leave you sitting there. He’d hired you after all, and you were here to help him. So he sat down across from you, hoping you didn’t see the way his knee bounced under the table, hoping you couldn’t hear how his heart pounded. 

“So, Carmen Berzatto,” You grinned, every syllable of his name rolling off your tongue so sweetly, Carmen was sure he was going to faint. “Tell me about The Bear. Why did you start it?”

“Well, it was The Beef before. And-And my parents owned it, then my brother Mikey did…” Carmen started, watching the way you scribbled, eyes flickering to him with a small smile.

“Hello!” You called, pushing through the back door. They’d given you the code a week ago, so you didn’t have to wait or pound on the front door until someone took mercy and let you in. “It’s content day!” You sang, cheery and bright. 

Carmen could hear the pretty trill of your voice, trickling down the hall and into the kitchen. Tina smirked, watching the way he stopped, turning to look at you, blush rising under his white shirt. “Hey, Jeff,” Tina smirked, his head snapping to her. “Your girl’s here.” 

The staff had been teasing Carmen relentlessly about how smitten he was with you. Something he’d been so reluctant to do, he now looked forward to. Carmen swore it was because of your work. You had taken them from the measly six hundred followers they’d had since they started the account in twenty-eleven to six thousand, strategic posts and tags and tagging a few buzz accounts that were Chicago foodies. Business had gone up, reservations filling slowly. Followers poured in from TikTok, from the reels, from the posts. One tag from a micro Chicago influencer had brought in a good chunk and was still, all because of a photo with the pretty light features and the dessert. 

“Where’s the Bear?” You grinned, passing Sydney, camera in hand, bag slung over your shoulder. You pushed open Carmen’s office, dropping your bag in there. He’d told you that you could keep your things in there, since you didn’t have a locker, of course- and not at all because that meant he’d see you before you left. 

“He’s in here, baby!” Tina called, smirking at Carmen. 

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head, a deep breath to keep him from looking so flushed. It worked for a moment, of course, until you rounded the corner. All bright smiles and fuck, you smelled so good. Camren wanted to drown himself in your perfume. “Good morning, Bear.” You beamed. 

Carmen grinned, cheeks heating with every step you took forward. “Mornin’.” He muttered, looking at the clock. 

“It’s content day.” You grinned, shaking your camera lightly. “Tell me you got something good for me, Chef. What's the special this week?” 

“A lamb tenderloin with a gorgonzola sauce served over pasta- house made, of course.” Carmen answered. 

“Of course.” You repeated with a tiny grin. You turned on your camera, taking a test shot, before you looked at Carmen carefully. “Ready whenever you are, Chef.” 

Carmen bit back his own grin, clearing his throat lightly. “How do I start it? The same as last time?” 

“Yep.” You nodded, pressing the camera to your eyes. “Tell me your name, name of the restaurant, and then just this week's special.” 

“On your mark.” Carmen nodded, picking up his clean utensil. 

“On yours.” You laughed. “I’m already recording.” 

Carmen spoke to the camera easily, trying to stay trained on the lens and not at you. How you’d grin and nod encouragingly at him, zooming in closer as he chopped, seasoned, pulled the already prepared and finished product out of the oven. 

Richie crossed his arms, leaning against the wall next to Sugar, lips pursed knowingly. “I know you’re thinkin’ the same shit as me.” 

Sugar hummed. “That Carmen’s into her?” 

“Way fuckin’ into her.” Richie grinned, watching as Carmen blushed, grinning back at you, genuine and a little shy at your compliment. 

“Fifty bucks says he doesn’t make a move.” Sugar looked at Richie. 

Richie snorted, scoffing with a shake of his head. “Alright. I’ll take your bet. I say he does.” 

“Get ready to be out of fifty dollars, Cousin.” Sugar said smugly. “This is Carmy we’re talking about. Not Mikey. Carmen’s not gonna make a move on her.” 

“Eh, not so quick, my dear, Natalie. Carmen’s changed a little since this place.” Since the horrendous freezer incident with Claire. “He really likes her too, look at ‘em.” Richie nodded, watching as Carmen held the spoon out for you, blushing when your hand touched his to take it, groaning before smothering him in compliments. Tina looked at Richie, amused and grinning from across the room. 

“Carmen will seal the deal. It’ll be last fuckin’ minute and it will be a mess, because it’s fuckin’ Carmen, but… I believe in him.” Richie nodded. 

Natalie snorted. “I genuinely hope you’re right, Cousin.” She looked at Carmen with a small smile, watching the way he looked at you, eyes cutting like he was being so cool about keeping his feelings underwraps. “I really do.” 

That night, Carmen lied in bed, scrolling through his footage from the day, seeing the video pop up from @/thebearchicago. Set to classical music, snobby and dramatic, the cuts, Carmen’s voice laid over describing the meal for the week, and a particularly good close up of his hands cutting the onions fiercely. Carmen was shocked to see the number of likes… the number of comments flooding in. 

“the cameraman knew exactly what they were doing lmao”

“New necklace available!!!” 

“I will give you my vital organs and let you chop them up like that if you let me watch chef please” 

“What the fuck?” Carmen snorted lightly, shaking his head, scrolling through the comments. He clicked to the main page of the restaurant, seeing you were just a few away from ten thousand followers. Fuck… Sydney was fucking right. You were good. 

Carmen’s face fell, mind racing and screaming with the reminder that you were only there for a few more days. He’d only hired your for two months- two glorious fucking months. You seemed… permanent now. Like he couldn’t imagine you not coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and after three on Fridays. You were a staple there. The staff loved you, you were good, and-

And Carmen really liked you. Liked having you around. Looked forward to talking to you. To get the chance to lean over your shoulder as an excuse to touch you when you showed him a preview of a post. Or when you’d send him cute text messages, a funny comment attached, your text reading: “you’re a hit, bear! they love you!” 

It was like you could read his mind, your contact flashing across the screen at him. 

To: Carmen 

‘told you this would be a good one! the fans love you berzatto!!!’ 

Carmen grinned, the faint twinge of a blush on his face. He could feel his heart racing, fingers dancing over the keyboard, and worst of all- he could hear Mikey’s fucking voice in the back of his head. A nagging tone repeating over and over and over, “Let it rip, Bear! Don’t be such a pussy! Ask her out!” 

Carmen looked at his screen, fingers typing out the message, a short, less than smooth invite to make you a special thank you dinner and his place- a date. He hoped you picked up on it. Heat hammering in his chest, he could feel his chest tighten, ribs knitting together uncomfortably, stomach twisting in the worst way. 

So, Carmen did what he always did. 

From: Carmen 

‘Never doubted you. Thank you. The video was great.’ 

He watched as the blue sent, the delivered turning into seen, and followed by your thumbs up over the text. Carmen put his phone on the table, lying back on his pillow, but he couldn’t sleep. His stomach still turned, unsettled with regret. 

“Oh! Marcus stop!” You gasped, Carmen’s head turning at the sound of your voice. “You didn’t need to do all of this!” 

“Yeah, I did.” Marcus beamed. Carmen turned the corner, seeing a beautifully piped cake there, candles and icing cursive that read “thank you!” in the middle of the buttercream. “You’re cool and you got us on the map, girl. Plus, we’re gonna miss you.” 

“Yeah,” Sydney nodded, holding a small balloon that said that exact phrase on it. “We will miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you guys.” You grinned, hugging them both tightly. “This has been my favorite job so far. You guys have been so nice. Way nicer than a lot of these assholes around here.” You grinned. 

Richie stood on the wall, foot tapping, eyes darting back from you to Carmen. He could see his cousin’s stuttering movements, hesitant and careful, before retreating back into himself. C’mon, Carm, fuckin’ do it, Richie thought, shaking his head. Carmen wouldn’t though, wouldn’t let himself be happy. Richie took a deep breath, head shaking with annoyance. 

“Goddammit, Berzatto,” Richie muttered, pushing off the wall. “You know, sweetheart, it’s been so great having you. Seriously, you blew us all away.” Richie said, walking towards you. 

You smiled. “Thanks, Richie. I really appreciate it.” 

“And you know what, we want to really show how much we appreciate you.” Richie’s eyes cut to Natalie, a silent plea to help him out. “I had a cancellation for this evening, and I would love for you to come instead. Let us really cook for you, give you the whole experience. No bill, of course. All on the house, for you, my dear.” 

“Oh, I-I couldn’t let you guys do that.” You shook your head politely, eyes cutting to Carmen’s. 

“No-No, please.” Carmen nodded, finally speaking. Richie sighed silently in relief. “It would be great actually. Please?” 

You felt your heart melt, nodding softly. Before you could even reply, Richie was stepping up again. “And you know what? You gotta do one last post for us, right? The big chef spotlight one. The, uh, c’mon, Sydney what am I lookin’ for here?” 

“Oh, the one about the staff spotlights?” Sydney asked. 

“That’s the one. See, that’s it. And you’ve done everyone except the big boss.” Richie pointed at Carmen, ignoring the way the younger man’s face fell. 

“I didn’t get one-” Fak started, Richie shoving him out of the way. 

“You gotta end with Carmy, and it's funny because it’s gonna be real slow tonight anyways. Wednesday, ya know? And I think what better way to experience the night, really craft that staff spotlight thing, than with Carmen. The two of you, have dinner and get to talk.” Richie knew it was rocky, not at all smooth, but it was the best he could do. 

“What? Cousin, what are you-” 

“-No, you’re right, Richie.” Sugar added, stepping towards Carmen, and cutting him off. “And Carm, you were saying you wanted to see everything in action for yourself. You do the customer experience so you make sure everything’s good, and we’ll serve you both dinner. All the stops.” 

“How’s that sound?” Richie clapped his hands together, nodding at Tina, who grinned. 

“Jeff, it would be really nice to make sure we can work without your instructions. A good night for it too.” Tina added. 

“Yeah, and Sydney’s got it.” Richie nudged the girl beside him. 

“Totally, Carm- uh, Chef. I’ve got it.” Sydney nodded, catching on to Richie’s glare at her. 

Carmen felt like he could melt into the floor, face red and palms sweaty. His ears were ringing, tongue swelled thick in his mouth. You looked over at him with a small smile. “I mean, that does sound really nice. If-If it’s ok with you guys, you don’t have to-” 

“-Oh no,” Richie shook his head, walking over to Carmen to clap him on the shoulders. “We insist, don’t we, cousin?” Richie laughed, leaning down to Carmen. “Don’t fuckin’ stand there like a jagoff, say somethin’.” He whispered. 

“Yeah.” Carmen said, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “It’s, uh, yeah. That-That sounds great.” 

“Wonderful.” Richie beamed. “Six o’clock sounds good for you kids? Give you enough time to get it together.” Richie looked from you to Carmen. “Maybe for some of us to take a shower.” 

Carmen could feel the heat rise from his neck to his cheeks, covering him in a furious blush. You giggled. “Definitely gives me time to get a blow out.” You laugh. “See you at six then?” 

“It’s a date.” Natalie added, practically bouncing on her toes behind Carmen. 

Carmen glared at her, before turning back to you. “Yeah, I-I’ll see you then.” 

[janeyseymour]

Intervention- pt 2

an anon asked for a part 2 where Barb might be hurt that she doesn't know about you.

WC: ~2.9k

“You have a girlfriend?” Jacob is the first to gasp out. “Mel Mel, I didn’t know that I wasn’t the only queer one in the school!”

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, I do have a girlfriend, and you ain’t nothin’ special kid. I just don’t make it as known as you do.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smile at the group. You then address them all by name. They look impressed. And then you get to Barbara Howard- of course you know that she’s your girlfriend’s work-wife. “And Barbara, I’ve heard the most about you. It’s truly a pleasure getting to finally meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” she glances at you as she shakes your offered hand. “Melissa has kept you her dirty little secret for how long?”

“Barb,” the redhead warns lowly. “She ain’t my dirty little secret- just a topic that hadn’t really come up in conversation.”

“Well, I would say that-”

“Why don’t you guys come on in,” you tell the group softly, trying to get the two squabbling women to quit. There does not need to be any point of contention while your girlfriend’s friends are here, and it certainly does not need to be over you. All you want to do is make a good impression.

They all enter the house that they thought they knew and had seen prior to the breakup with Gary. But now, it’s different. It’s… definitely still Melissa- but the plastic on the couches are gone, it’s a bit brighter, and there’s a sense of someone living in the space. It’s nice. You don’t miss the way that Barbara only continues to study you as you lead everyone in, offering drinks or food in the kitchen.

“Melissa wouldn’t let me in the kitchen for this, so please… know that you won’t get food poisoning from today,” you joke as you hold the redhead’s hand. “There are other beverages outside in a cooler if you would rather a beer or something like that. Please… help yourselves.”

You head outside yourself to go grab yourself and your girlfriend a Yuengling. “Does anybody want a beer?”

Mr. Johnson is the only one that agrees, the others deciding that a water or a soda is okay for now. So, you head out to grab three beers.

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew is staring down the mob-like woman that they thought they all knew.

“What?”

“Damn, Schemmenti,” Ava raises a hand for a high five. “She’s hot!”

Melissa just rolls her eyes, but she does give her boss a high five, along with Mr. Johnson.

“Well, tell us about her!” Jacob and Janine both look at the redhead urgently. “How long have you been together, what’s the deal with her?!”

Barbara just looks at the woman she thought trusted her enough to tell her about a relationship like this with crossed arms.

“She is here, so you can just ask her yourself you know,” Melissa chuckles as she sees you come back inside. You go for the bottle opener on the fridge, expertly popping the tops off of the beers before distributing them out. 

“Ask me what?” you ask as you snake an arm around Melissa’s waist and pull her closer gently.

“About you!” Janine states with fire. “We didn’t even know you existed!”

“Well,” you chuckle. “I’m Y/N, I’m an accountant down at one of the firms in Center City, Mel and I met at a Bally’s in Atlantic City, and we’ve been dating for about… a year and a half?”

“You kept this from us for a year and a half?” Gregory cuts in.

Your girlfriend just shrugs. “Youse never asked if I was dating anyone- just assumed I was single and mopey.”

You see the way that Barbara glares down her friend, and you try to cut the tension by inviting everybody to come sit outside in the small backyard that you have. They of course follow. 

You and Melissa allow everybody to find a seat before you go to sit, but of course, there is only one chair. She takes it while you perch on the side of it. With an eye roll, she pulls you into her lap.

“We’re dating, hun,” she tells you. “You’re allowed to act like you love me.”

“I do,” you laugh. “Was just trying to be respectful and not make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Greg and Janine were grinding up on each other at the club,” Ava laughs with a wave of her hand. “And that was before they were dating. Y’all are together, and have been for some time.”

The two mentioned blush as they look at each other… they were hoping their boss would’ve forgotten that by now.

It’s a bit of time as they chat and catch up, Melissa filling you in on the missing pieces as she sips from her beer, before conversation comes to a quiet lull. Barbara only continues to stare down the two of you, and it’s quite clear she isn’t happy.

Barbara Howard not approving of this relationship is something that could make or break what you have going on with who you genuinely think might be the love of your life. Barbara Howard was the one person that you were really hoping to impress, and she’s making it quite clear that she does not care for you. Barbara Howard hasn’t spoken a word to you or Melissa since the first few minutes that she’s been at the house. And it is making you beyond uncomfortable. 

“Well, I think I might start firing up the grill,” you sigh softly as you stand from your place in Melissa’s lap. “We have stuff for burgers and dogs, so… if everyone wants to let me know what they want, I can get that started?”

You have everyone’s orders being shouted at you faster than you can type the orders down in your notes. All of the orders have been taken except for… except for Barbara’s.

“Barbara?” you ask softly, eyes full of warmth. You’re really trying to get her on your good side.

“I’m fine,” she says astutely.

“Make a couple extra of each,” the redhead tells you. “I’ll grab a couple plates for you to put ‘em on as they’re finishing up.”

Of course, Mr. Johnson, Jacob, and Gregory both follow you over to the grill and make conversation with you as you cook, leaving the rest of the Abbott crew with your girlfriend.

While Jacob is questioning what feels like every aspect of your life at the grill, you can hear Barbara and Melissa getting into it.

“Are you seriously mad?” you can hear your girlfriend ask her work wife, clearly annoyed. 

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me who’s courting you,” Barbara states, hurt evident in her voice.

“Nobody’s courtin’ me, Barb. This ain’t Bridgerton,” the second grade teacher retorts with a sarcastic laugh. 

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me,” your girlfriend’s work wife tells her. “We’ve been friends for over fifteen years, and you’ve told me about other relationships- like Gary.”

“Because you approved of Gary,” Melissa tells Barbara.

“And what would make you think I wouldn’t approve of Y/N?”

“Well,” your girlfriend drawls out. “She’s a woman, you’re a woman of God, she’s a hell of a lot younger than we are, and it started out at a casino and sharing a cigarette. Forgive me if I thought that Barbara Howard, woman of God, might not like the backstory I would’ve given you.”

Barbara goes to spit something else out, but Janine cuts in rather quickly. For once, her and Ava are on the same team and are able to divert the conversation elsewhere. 

You awkwardly make your way over to the group, juggling plates in hand. “Dinner is served,” you smile as you set them on the table. “Did anyone want a beer or a seltzer or anything like that?”

There are a few that chime in, ready for a drink. You oblige their requests with a smile. Dinner is nice, if a bit stilted as people try to find common ground to chat with you about. It all ends up leading back to Abbott, and you can’t find yourself complaining. It’s quite funny to hear the hi jinx that happen in an elementary school and all of the background things that happen out of sight of the kids. And then the topic shifts to the relationship that everybody has with Melissa. You find that Melissa is like a mother to Jacob, an aunt to Janine and in turn Gregory, close friends with Ava despite appearances at school, Mr. Johnson and her have some sort of ally between the two of them, and of course you already knew her and Barbara were like work wives.

Barbara just huffs at that sentiment before sighing. “I suppose I should be heading out.”

“But Barb!” Janine protests. “We haven’t even started setting off fireworks!”

“I got the good ones too,” the custodian cuts in. 

But the woman dead set on heading home holds up a hand to halt their protests against her leaving. “It is time that I leave.”

She says goodbye to everybody before turning to you and your girlfriend. “Thank you for inviting me over,” is all she says. And then she’s seeing herself out.

The rest of the fourth of July gathering is quite nice, and you find yourself quite glad that you were able to meet the people that Melissa constantly talks about during the school year.

Before you know it, the school year is right around the corner. Despite having been in the same classroom for the last several years, Melissa asks if you’ll accompany her down to the classroom to prepare for her incoming students. You wholeheartedly agree, knowing that a good deed on your part will end up in well… a good deed.

As the two of you are lugging in a few boxes of new supplies, Barbara pulls up. There is no hello, no ‘how are you’. Just a simple glance before she turns her nose up at the two of you and begins to unload her own car.

“Barb,” your girlfriend calls in the direction of the kindergarten teacher. There is no dignified response. “Jesus Christ.”

“Give her a few minutes,” you tell the redhead softly as you pull yet another box of supplies out of your car. “She’s probably just in a rush to get all of her things in here before she exchanges pleasantries.”

“No,” the second grade teacher huffs. “She’s still all pissy that I didn’t tell her about you. Hasn’t reached out since the cookout.”

You know that to be quite odd. When the two are on good terms, they speak quite frequently- last year over Summer break they had spoken almost everyday. 

You just nod before jogging over to Barbara’s car and politely asking you if she needed any assistance. She told you no. So you jogged back to your own car before picking up the same box that you had earlier and carrying it into the school.

The two of you make another trip, as does Barbara. Still, there are no words spoken between the two, and you can clearly see that it’s upsetting your girlfriend.

In the confines of her classroom, you close the door and perch yourself on Melissa’s desk. “Babe?”

“What?” she asks as she continues to staple the border around her bulletin board.

“You need to take a breath and maybe consider things from Barbara’s side,” you say quietly.

“So you’re on her side?” Green eyes whip around and land on you.

You slowly climb off of her desk and go to pull her in gently by the waist. You give her a sweet peck on the lips before whispering, “I just don’t like seeing the tension between you and your best friend.”

“I’m not even mad at her,” Melissa shrugs. “She’s mad at me.”

“I understand that,” you promise your girlfriend quietly. “But… imagine how you would feel if she started dating someone seriously, and you didn’t find out until they had been living together and dating for a year and a half.”

“I wouldn’t have to imagine that, because she’s been married to Gerald for thirty years, and the two of them are more in love than-”

“Mel,” you sigh quietly. “Just… put yourself in her shoes. Please.”

“I would… I would be pissed,” the teacher admits. “But I know that she wouldn’t like how our relationship started, and I know she was pissed when I ended things with Gary, and-”

“She stood by you through your divorce, she stood by you through your breakup with Gary; you’ve seen her through almost everything her and Gerald have been through. I can see why she’s hurt right now, hun.”

“I don’t,” your girlfriend huffs. “She knows I’m a more private person.”

“But you aren’t with her,” you reason. “Around her, you’re you. She knows every piece of you, even pieces I don’t know yet. I don’t think she’s mad at you- I think she’s hurt. This is just how she’s showing her hurt right now.”

“So what do you suppose I should do about it?” Melissa purses her lips. You can’t resist stealing a quick kiss.

“I think you should talk to her,” you advise. “I think you should apologize for not telling her once things got more serious between the two of us, and then I think you should invite her out for a dinner with just the two of you so you can chat and tell her more about us before suggesting a dinner with all three of us.”

“When did you get to be so wise?” your girlfriend asks you as she pulls you just the slightest bit closer to her.

“I’ve had some practice,” you chuckle softly. Then you pat her butt gently. “Go. Talk to her.”

Melissa bites her lip nervously before nodding. She heads out the door. You follow a few seconds later.

“I’m just going to stand outside the door out of sight in case the two of you need any mediation,” you tell her when she turns around and looks at you curiously.

She nods before continuing her journey down to the kindergarten wing. She knocks on the door in a rhythm that you know is only saved for her work wife.

“Melissa,” Barbara says, but there’s a bit of bite in her tone.

“Barb,” your girlfriend says quietly. “Can we… can we talk?”

“About?”

“I came down to apologize to you,” the redhead says softly as she steps into the room a bit further.

“For?” You can practically see the woman folding her arms across her chest and looking at Melissa as though she’s a student.

“For not tellin’ you about Y/N,” Melissa breathes. “For keeping her a secret from you, and then not being considerate of the feelings that you have. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just… nervous? I know that you’re a woman of faith with morals higher than I ever thought possible, and if it were to go up in flames with her, I didn’t want you to have to be there to pick up the pieces like you’ve done so many times before.”

“Melissa, if you thought I wouldn’t approve of the relationship you have with Y/N because she is also a woman, I would like to remind you that I adore Jacob like the son I never had,” the kindergarten teacher says evenly. “And we are best friends- I want to be there for you at the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I do not care that you are dating a woman; I just want you to be happy. I wish you would have let me know earlier than you did. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are,” your girlfriend says. “I messed up, Barb. An’ I’m sorry.”

“Well, thank you,” Barbara says quietly.

Melissa shifts where she stands. “How can I make it up to you? Dinner maybe? Just the two of us?”

You can hear the shift in tone between the two of them. Something changes. “I’d quite like that. I’ve missed you these past two months.”

You know it’s taking everything in Melissa to not make a comment about how she had reached out over the summer, but Barbara had not reciprocated. “I’ve missed you too,” you hear her say.

“And I better get to hear all about Y/N,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles. “She seems like a sweet girl, and she knows her way around a grill.”

“She’s… she’s really great, Barb,” you hear your girlfriend’s voice go soft- something she really only does when she’s talking about you. “She’s something special.”

“Well, I look forward to getting to know her,” Barbara chuckles. “And ooh, girl, do I have some things to tell you about what my girls got up to over the summer.”

“Over dinner? I’d be delighted, but right now Y/N is here helping me clean up my room for the upcoming year, and I’m sure she’d be more than happy to come help you too.”

And just like that, you know that everything just may be okay. Barbara and Melissa have made up, the kindergarten teacher herself said that you seem like a sweet girl, and now your girlfriend won’t be as much of a grump coming home from a hard day’s work today.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[khakirnelm]

From an incorrect quote generator

If Melody was a human tho

Phoebe: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE Melody: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially Phoebe, desperately, as Melody bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE Melody: Oh! B positive. Phoebe: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE Melody:

-

Phoebe: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming Melody: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak

-

Phoebe: Whaddya call a fish with no eye? Melody, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons Phoebe: Phoebe: fsh

-

Phoebe: So what's for dinner? Melody, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

-

Callie: I left instructions for everyone while I'm gone. Phoebe: Mine just says "Phoebe no." Callie: I want you to apply it to every possible situation.

-

Trevor: Not elegant enough to be a vampire, not jock enough to be a werewolf... Phoebe: Goblin it is.

-

Trevor: My head hurts. Phoebe: That’s your brain trying to comprehend its own stupidity.

-

Computer: Please enter a password. Phoebe: *types in Melody* Computer: Your password is too weak. Phoebe: How fucking DARE YOU-

-

Phoebe: So what are your political beliefs? Podcast: Well, I think Pikachu would be a lot more powerful if he had a gun.

-

Callie: You spent all our money on THIS?? Gary, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

-

Phoebe: Why are you on fire? Melody: This is just how my day is going.

-

Podcast: Change is inedible.

Phoebe: Don't you mean inevitable?

Podcast, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

-

Phoebe: .. .----. -- / ... --- .-. .-. -.--

[translation: I’M SORRY]

Callie: What's that?

Phoebe: Remorse code.

Callie: I'm even angrier now.

-

Phoebe: I don’t do relationships.

Melody: *exists*

Phoebe: Shit.

-

Trevor: Kissing can burn 26 calories in a minute, wanna work-out with me? ;)

Lucky: Are you saying that I'm fat?

Trevor: No that's not what I meant I-

-

Phoebe: Podcast... Why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?

Podcast: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned.

Phoebe:

Phoebe: I wrote sanitize, Podcast.

-

Callie, tending to Trevor’s wounds: How would you rate your pain?

Trevor: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

-

Peck: I'm going to ask you to be respectful. Phoebe: I will politely decline.

-

Podcast: I’m having one of those things! A headache with pictures!! Phoebe: you mean an idea..? Podcast: MMMMHHMMM!!

-

Phoebe: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though. Trevor: You need to stop.

-

Phoebe: How did none of you hear what I just said? Callie: I’ve been zoned out for the past two and a half hours. Gary: I got distracted about halfway through. Trevor: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

-

If Melody was a human, again

Phoebe: HELP! I TOLD MELODY I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK! Trevor, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

-

Podcast: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time? Phoebe: The car takes a screenshot. Trevor: For the last time, get the fuck out.

-

Gary, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him Callie: You did WHAT– Phoebe: William Snakepeare

-

Trevor: You look nice, I want to kiss you. Lucky: What? Trevor: I SAID IF YOU DIED, I WOULDN’T MISS YOU.

-

Gary: The best revenge, really, is being nice! Podcast: [in the distance] Or murder.

-

Gary: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut... Callie: You would eat yourself? Gary: I wouldn’t even question it.

-

Phoebe: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO- Melody: It was me... Phoebe: ...Is going to be forgiven because everyone deserves a second chance.

[ninjaturtlemaniac]

Part 1 Trolls Headcanons/ Theories/ Thoughts/ Ideas

Part2 Part3 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10

Trolls - in general Trolls are pretty rare outside their usual kingdoms and it's considered good luck to meet one.

Brozone - drastically changed their looks coz they hate that they used to dress the same.

Bruce - one of those dads who would get a new barbeque and show off all the cool features to the other local dads.

Bruce - "No kids, we're not keeping that stray animal, end of story, no way..." - 1 week later and he's giving it kisses and building it an over the top kennel with a heated blanket and a water fountain.

Bruce - (canon?) carried all their eggs, indirect reason why his hair is so big. (Side note - I read somewhere someone called all their kids 'The Bakers Dozen' and I frigging love that)

Floyd - solo career after he left Brozone - all his songs were PINK FLOYD SONGS! (Maybe that could've been his stage name?)

Floyd - his hair is naturally pink but JD made him make it redder because 'we're a boyband and pink is a girls colour'

John Dory - has embarrassing baby pictures of his brothers as leverage

John Dory - over-exaggerates his retellings of stories "I fought off 30 no no no 40 snakes with one hand behind my back."

John Dory - always casually asking Poppy, Brandy and Viva to marry him, over small things too "Brandy, these pancakes are delicious, marry me."

Clay - writes long and very detailed critical reviews of restaurants

Clay - has reading glasses. Probably the ones that attach magnetically at the nose ridge.

Clay - labels everything (labelmaker is to Clay as Gary is to Branch)

Clay - very into color coded itineraries and always know everyone's business "Poppy is currently at Smidge's pod doing her hair" "How could you possibly know that?" "I have my sources."

Clay - also a notary and registered marriage celebrant

Clay - hair was always naturally green but JDs hair was already green. JD said he had to be yellow for the band, they needed that color coordinated group vibe.

Clay - has drafts for his own book series

Clay - actually plays golf

Clay - gets clumsy when trying to impress someone he admires (imagine him meeting King Peppy and he just knocks things over)

Clay - competitive af - brothers know better than to verse him at anything - has an over the top victory dance

Viva - that concept art of tiny Viva is the age she was when they escaped the Troll Tree. So like 15 maybe?

Viva - wants to make up for all the missed holidays/birthdays/parties with Poppy so she is constantly popping out from places with gifts yelling SURPRISE!

Branch - for Pop Trolls - being in a famous singing group is the equivalent of being a recognized expert in your field. So the fact that Branch is in TWO famous boy bands is like he has several PhDs.

Branch - Kismet formed inside a group home for Trollings

Poppy and Vivas mother - my theory is that they managed to keep princess Viva a secret from the Bergens. They chose the Queen for Trollstice when they discovered what they thought was her first egg. The Troll Tree escape plan came about when Chef promised the new royal trolling for the young Bergen prince.

[psychostxr]

𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐧 | kiss me better

PAIRING. deuce gorgon x gn/fem! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.6k

WARNINGS. mentions of bruises

NOTES. i'm alive! sorry for being absent, i got a job at a library and it's been taking up all my time so i haven't really written anything since febuary. but please enjoy this peace offering despite it being short

"Oh my ghoul," you whisper, taking in the sight of your poor boyfriend as he sits on the bench outside the school nurse's office.

You knew Deuce would take some hits during the Skultimate Roller Maze game, but nothing could prepare you for what you saw. Deep purple bruises stain his cheek and nose. A sling and cast cradle his left arm, and his signature shades are cracked, threatening to shatter and turn everyone around him to stone.

"Deuce!" you call, rushing toward him.

He looks up to see you and quickly tries to stand up from the bench. You wrap your arms around him as gently as you can, careful not to press against any of his injuries. Deuce winces slightly but pulls you closer with his right arm. You pull back just enough to cup his unbruised cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin.

"What happened?" you ask, "The camera in the maze suddenly stopped working, and then we couldn't see anything."

Deuce sighs, his breath shaky. You can see the pain etched in his eyes, even behind the broken glasses.

"It was Gary from Granite City High," he begins, his voice low. "He sneaked up behind me and stole my glasses. I turned the camera bat Rocco was holding into stone. Rocco threw the stoned bat at Gil and knocked him over. Then Gary shoved me. I slammed into Gil, and you know the rest."

Deuce gestures weakly to his battered body. You feel a surge of anger rise within, but you try to push it down. It's not fair that Granite City High got away with winning this season's Skultimate Roller Maze despite cheating and injuring your school's entire team. But there was no evidence to prove they cheated. They made sure of it when they destroyed the camera.

"What about Gil?" you question, distracting yourself from your anger. "How's he doing?"

Deuce motions to the nurse's office. "He's getting checked now. Lagoona's with him."

"I'm so sorry, Deuce." You lean your head against him, rubbing your hand up and down his chest. "What they did wasn't fair. You didn't deserve any of that."

Deuce kisses the top of your head. "It's not your fault, babe. You don't need to be sorry."

"I know…" you sigh, pulling away to look up at him. "I just wish I could do something to make it better."

"Well," Deuce says, his lips curling into a smirk. "There is something that might help. Think you can kiss me better?"

You grin. "That I can do."

Deuce gently tugs you closer by the waist, and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. Standing on your tiptoes, you gently kiss his forehead, lingering just long enough to let him feel the affection behind it.

Then, you move to his non-bruised cheek, leaving a soft kiss there. You kiss every part of his face that isn't bruised, and when Deuce thinks you're finally going to kiss him properly, your lips teasingly brush over his to continue kissing his face.

Deuce chuckles softly. "Stop teasing."

You pause, locking eyes with Deuce through his shades. Then, you lean in and kiss him passionately, letting all your love and care flow into that moment. Deuce's grip on your waist tightens slightly, pulling you closer as he kisses you back. When you finally break the kiss, your foreheads rest together.

Deuce lets out a content sigh. "You always know how to make things better."

"I'll always be here for you, Deuce. No matter what."

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

[oldmen-enjoyer]

"We are both servants of something greater, be the very air you breath or the blood that plagued humanity since Dawn. You and I are no different. Born in the womb to committed ourselves to this cruel miracle that you call life."

"You and I are two dogs in fighting ring with fierce and zealous sense of duty. Question is, who will be devoured first?"

[Update + concept doodle below]

I been trying to update and polished FAITH: White-lie once again. Though this time I try to make it more.. closely resembled the vanilla. Admittedly there's some element that I need to curl out. I still keep "John is vampiric" and "Gary is plant related" core of it. I got my co author permission to make extensive change to Gary. This version of Gary are more nature-driven, his humanity are simply organic flesh outside. He is a black mold on your wall

And to put in nutshell what to expected, both angels and demons are viruses of some kind. Demons almost exclusively blood pathogens. Anyway. Here's some doods

[gomtotemeal]

They built the world’s largest salad. The whole thing was set up in a park about an hour away from our home so my wife Diane convinced me that it might be fun to go see it.

“Deb and Gary are going this afternoon and so I thought we’d ride over there with them.”

“Will there be any left?”

“Oh, it’s not to eat,” said Diane. “It’s like an art piece. The Guinness World Records people will be there.”

On the way over, I started to talk about a Cobb salad I had at this place near my office that was pretty big.

“I usually eat only about half of it.”

“Well, I’m sure this one is much bigger than that,” said Gary.

“Jesus Christ, Gary. I wasn’t implying that I thought the Cobb salad I had was bigger than this salad. It’s just that all of this giant salad business has me thinking about large salads I’ve had before. God!”

“It was a joke,” said Gary. “Calm down.”

But I could tell from the muscles in his face that Gary was lying. Deb quickly chimed in with a request to hear about more of the big salads I’d had, but I was over it. The mood had been ruined.

“Forget it,” I said. “Let’s just get this thing over with.”

The salad was huge. According to a series of laminated signs, we learned that all of the produce had come by way of donations from local farmers and then a college in New York had commissioned a handful of artists to construct a gigantic ceramic bowl to put everything in.

We took pictures and afterwards I bought a t-shirt at the gift shop. It was powder blue with a graphic of the gigantic salad pasted right on the front. On the back was the date and city.

In the car, Gary said that the salad on my t-shirt just looked like a regular-sized salad.

“Bullshit,” I said. “It’s huge.”

“Well maybe it’s huge because you know that it’s huge,” said Diane. “But to someone who doesn’t know what it is, I can see how it looks like a regular salad.”

I looked at it again and realized that they were right. How could I have allowed myself to be seduced by the context of such a limited reality? The only place a gigantic salad can truly exist is sitting there right in front of you! Even photos were a stretch. I stifled my anger and humiliation with short breaths and concentrated on the scenery so as not to rip the t-shirt in half in a blind rage.

Gary had made me look like a fool twice in a span of mere hours and I desperately needed to restore balance. That night, I sat in my study and replayed the day’s events in my mind. Surely, Gary had to have slipped up somewhere and said or done something dumb.

“Diane,” I said. “Wake up.”

“God, what time is it?”

“Remember when we first saw the salad? Remember what Gary said?”

“I don’t know.”

“He said that the salad was so big that he’d need a pitchfork to eat it! Remember?”

She thought about it. “I guess. I really don’t remember.”

“He did say it! Ha! What an idiot!”

I clapped my hands together.

“Because, Diane. The ingredients were standard-sized ingredients. It was only the salad itself that was huge.”

“So.”

“So why the pitchfork?! Does Gary suddenly have a gigantic head with such a gigantic mouth that a regular fork won’t do? God, he’s so stupid! Isn’t he stupid, Diane?”

“I don’t know what your problem is with Gary.”

“I don’t have a problem with Gary! I just have a problem with an idiot who thinks that large portions automatically correlate with large utensils. I mean, Christ Diane! What an idiot!”

I could see that my wife wanted me to leave, but I wasn’t done yet.

“Why, that would be like thinking that…” I paused, a grin plastered to my face, and tried to think of a similar example containing both a large food item and another large utensil. But it wouldn’t come to me.

“It would be like what?” asked Diane.

“Nothing! I’ll think of it later.”

In the early hours of the morning, Gary was awakened by an anonymous phone call from the payphone outside of a nearby liquor store.

“Hello?”

“If someone gave you a gigantic sundae, you’d probably try to eat it with a snow shovel!”

 Click.

[foxaftershocks]

Heyyy first off I just want to say I’ve read all your Lars x reader content and I’m obsessed omg you are so talented!!

If you’re still happy to take requests… :)

I can’t stop thinking about a ball/fancy dinner and dance type situation with Lars and the reader and probs the rest of the Ghostbusters. This would be pre-love confession and Lars is all smitten cuz the reader’s in a pretty ballgown or something but doesn’t know how to tell her. And then because I’m a wh0re for jealous Lars maybe reader dances with someone else and it fuels him to confess later on?

Hehehehe I hope that all makes sense!! Thank you so much <333

Here you go! I hope it was worth waiting for.

“I don’t know about this.”

You tugged on your skirt as you descended the staircase, the fabric silk, your leg able to move through the high slit up your thigh. You were watching your feet, your heels sky high, terrified of falling on your face after tripping, a twisted ankle and embarrassment painting your cheeks pink. your hair was swept up off your neck, a few strands falling around your face, curled and pretty and nothing like you usually looked. Painted lips and painted skin, you felt like a trussed up clown and yet when you’d looked in the mirror you’d felt a sense of wonder at your own reflection.

“You look beautiful, stop fussing,” Callie said, not even looking at you as she straightened Gary’s bowtie.

Phoebe had her nose wrinkled, tugging on the cuff of her suit. Trevor was looking at his reflection in the side mirror of the echto-1, fiddling with his hair as Lucky shoved at his shoulder. Lars was standing off to one side and when you looked up upon reaching the bottom of the stairs you felt your breath catch. His gaze swept over you, fingers frozen on the bridge of his nose as he adjusted his glasses, mouth falling open. A wave of self consciousness went through you and you smoothed your hand over your skirt again.

“How do I look?” you asked him, voice soft, unsure of his answer.

“You look… I mean, you’re so… You’re…. You’re…”

“Come on you lot, we’re running late,” Callie said, interrupting before he could get a single sentence out, “in the car. Now.”

It was a shuffle to get everyone into the car. Your thigh was pressed against Lars, shoved into the car together, pinned between him and Phoebe. Lucky and Trevor were together, whispering together, and you were trying to hard to not fiddle with your skirt anymore. Darting a glance up, Lars eyes swept away from you, looking out the window as the city began to rush past.

“Now, you’re all to be on your best behaviour,” Callie said, turning to look at them, “the mayor will be there and we don’t need him getting any more reasons to hate us.”

“He doesn’t hate us,” Trevor said, “we have his full support. He said so. Can’t go back on it when it was on every news channel.”

“Oh to have such innocence,” Lucky said, ruffling his hair.

He shoved at her, going back to fixing it in some kind of order. Your lips pulled up in a smile and you felt a pinky finger brush over your thigh. Your eyes darted up, find Lars looking down at you with a twinkle in his eyes. His own lips were pressed together and you knew he was holding back some kind of snarky comment. You lent into him, shoulder to shoulder, his warmth seeping into yours.

The car pulled up outside the venue, coming to an abrupt stop. The door opened and he slid out, offering you a hand, helping you out in your tight dress and your stupid heels. You held on, looking up at the beautiful building, lit up as other well dressed people streamed up the steps.

“Alright, you lot,” Callie said, striding up the stairs, “remember…”

“Best behaviour,” Phoebe muttered, moving past you.

Lars hand in your was warm and steady, helping you as you took slow steps towards the door. You wouldn’t have agreed to be there if the entire team hadn’t been expected to make an appearance. Phoebe wouldn’t have either if her complaints were anything to go by, but there was something about seeing Lars in his tux. You wound your arm through his, letting him escort you into the event.

The ballroom was beautiful, some of New York’s richest people collected together to celebrate the continued thriving of the city. If you hadn’t felt out of place on the steps outside, being surrounded by such juggernauts of industry in the city certainly did. Your fingers tightened around Lars’ arm, anxiety building. You weren’t meant to be there.

Unfortunately, you were swept through into the crowd on Lars’ arm, surrounded by the rest of the team.

Sitting at the table, it was clear your invitation had come through gritted teeth from the mayor. You were on your own, shoved into a far corner, the lighting leaving you in shadows and right under a vent blasting cool air down on your team. You shivered, not wearing something conducive to such a cold temperature. Your dress was built to be beautiful, not practical.

“What do you think this is?” you asked Lars, looking down at the soup in front of you.

“Green,” he replied.

“And cold,” you said, picking up your spoon.

“At least it isn’t foam,” he said.

“I’m sure we’ll see that later. The people are demanding it. Rich people haven’t discovered solid food yet. Kind of like babies.”

His eyes cut over to you and you could see the way his lips were tugging up at the corners. You offered your own smile to him, leaning into his warmth. You loved the way his lips formed words, vowels and consonants sounding so much better on his tongue. His eyes dipped down, taking you in as your shoulder found his, resting there the way it had so many times before during late nights in the lab, working side by side in companionable silence.

“Oh look,” you said as the next course was placed in front of you, “foam.”

“Filling,” he said, scooping some up.

“At least I won’t burst out of this dress,” you said, expecting to hear his chuckle but instead finding his eyes flicking over you then back to his plate. You thought in better light his cheeks might be a delicate pink but you couldn’t be sure in the shadows.

You managed to get through the remaining courses, wondering how rich people lived. You weren’t looking for more food, the corset top of your dress tight enough to make that feel dangerous, but for any normal person it was enough to leave you wanting. Was that the secret? Rich people were always just hungry? You were never going to find out.

“I’m going to the bar,” you said when it became clear that the left over awkwardness from dinner wasn’t dissipating, “it is open, right?”

“Best behaviour,” Callie said, catching your arm as you shuffled around the table.

“I won’t get drunk,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, “I promise.”

Music was just starting up as you reached the bar, strings striking a chord. Securing your glass of wine, you stepped aside, watching as some took the floor, the ballroom clear enough for actual dancing. You hadn’t been expecting that, despite the invitation mentioning dancing. So rarely was there actually dancing.

Money seemed to offer everything.

You knew the wine you were drinking was better than the stuff you bought from the shop on the corner of your block. It was richer and more full bodied and yet you weren’t sure it was worth the hike in price. Either would make you feel warm and loosen you up enough to consider enjoying the evening.

You watched the swirling couples on the floor, most older than you, clearly the kind of people who would drop thousands of dollars to sponsor the ballet or a museum. They might have entire wings named after them for the generous donations they gave. All you did was chase ghosts and build silly little machines to trap them. They would be horrified if they saw how you usually looked in your daily life.

“I always find these kinds of event stifling.”

You looked up, a tall man having sidled up beside you, watching the dancing couples as well. His sharp jawline and dark hair led you to believe he was handsome. Strong eyebrows and piercing blue eyes when he looked down at you, full lips pulling up in a small smile, just enough stubble on his chin to make you think he didn’t want to look as if he was trying too hard.

“It might just be that I have a habit of making my tie too tight,” he said, “Dylan Wilson.”

You murmured your own name in reply as he held out a hand to you to shake.

“You’re one of the Ghostbusters, right? I saw you guys get that thing in Central Park,” he said, “it was very impressive.”

“All in a day’s work,” you replied, never quite sure how to take compliments about your work.

You went back to watching the dancers in silence. The more of the wine you drank, the more you felt a yearning to be out there, moving to the music too. Only you weren’t sure you knew how to dance to that kind of music. Couples swept past, circling the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance?” Dylan asked you.

“Oh, I’m not sure that I…” You didn’t want to admit that you weren’t quite high class enough to know how to dance.

“I promise I won’t step on your toes or let you fall,” he said, offering his hand again.

You hesitated another moment before sliding your hand into his. Placing your almost empty glass of wine down on the closest surface, you let him guide you onto the floor. His hand landed on your back, your’s resting on his shoulder. Thinking too hard about your movements, you were stiff and stumbling, overthinking every single thing.

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked.

You dragged your gaze up from your feet to his face, finding amusement dancing in his eyes. You shook your head, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You saw the way his eyes followed your tongue before he looked away from your mouth.

“There’s not much reason to dance like this when you’re a Ghostbuster,” you replied, going for a half truth.

Handsome men weren’t something you had a huge amount of experience with. Certainly not when they were self assured and in a suit that probably cost more than an entire year’s worth of your rent. He chuckled softly, tightening his hold on you.

“You lot are heroes to the city. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were invited to plenty more of these events,” he said.

“We’re more focused on the work,” you replied.

He let you continue to dance in silence for another few moments, but the conversation had done it. You had relaxed, focused more on what he was saying than on your feet tripping over themselves. It was easier if you focused on him, letting him lead you in the dance, keeping your mind working on other things. Such as the wiring you’d been working on before you’d had to get ready for the night. It kept sparking in the wrong place and then not working and you were having trouble figuring out why.

“You’re thinking awfully hard,” he said, interrupting as you followed one of the wires in your mind, trying to find the source of the sparks.

“Just… thinking about some work stuff,” you said.

“No ghosts set to make an appearance tonight?” he asked.

“I hope not. It might be difficult to fight them in this get up,” you replied, unthinking.

“It might not be conducive to ghost busting, but you do look exceptionally beautiful,” he said.

Your cheeks heated and you had no answer for him. It was the kind of thing you’d hoped Lars might have said to you when he saw you, but coming from one of the rich and powerful was still pretty good. You ducked your head, not wanting him to see you so flustered. You felt that if you gave him an inch he might take a mile, the privileges he was accustomed to making him willing to push for what he wanted.

You knew you were making a lot of assumptions about him but it was hard not to when you knew everyone around you had bought tickets that cost more than your entire wardrobe would be valued at. Your team was the charity case, there to be paraded out for the rich and powerful like entertainment, to be gawked at and spoken about like you weren’t real people.

“I can’t be the first one to tell you that tonight,” he said.

You weren’t going to admit that he was.

“I’m very out of my element here,” you said, figuring it was close enough to the truth to get you through the conversation.

“You’ll grow used to it,” he replied.

“Only if I keep being invited,” you said.

“You will.” He sounded so confident, “either through your own merit or maybe because… you’ll be on my arm?”

He phrased it like a question and he seemed hopeful but there was a moment when you thought maybe he was so certain of your answer he didn’t feel the need to ask. You straightened your spine, not giving him an answer.

“Can I cut in?”

You let out a relieved breath, stepping back from Dylan. For a moment his hands tightened before he released you. You turned, offering yourself up to Lars, standing behind you, his lips pressed together into a thin line. His familiar blue eyes were focused on the man behind you, harder than you’d ever seen them, tension holding his body tight.

Your hand landed on his shoulder, his own resting on your waist as he swept you away. Your breathing came easier, the familiar scent of Lars enveloping you, washing away the expensive aftershave lingering in your nose. And yet when you looked up, expecting to see your saviour, his eyes were focused on something over your shoulder, hard and uncompromising.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you said softly, hoping to draw his attention back to you.

“I bet there’s plenty you don’t know about me,” he replied, not relaxing like you’d been hoping.

“Lars,” you said. His gaze flicked down to you then back to whatever he was looking at over your shoulder, “Lars.”

Your hand slid to curl around the back of his neck and finally, finally, his eyes met yours. You raised an eyebrow at him and while he didn’t look any calmer, there was a smile flirting with the corner of his lips.

“You’ve been making friends tonight,” he said.

“We have to make a good impression, right?” you replied.

“Who is he?” he asked.

“Dylan someone. I don’t know. He’s not important,” you said.

“He’s set to be the next Zuckerberg so others might not agree that’s he’s not important,” he replied, “and he’s making it no secret he’s interested in you.”

“What are you talking about it?” He was being obtuse, and you thought he was doing it on purpose.

“He’s watching us very closely. I think he’s trying to work out if we’re involved and probably calculating how to change that answer if it’s yes.”

You snorted. His arm tightened around you, pulling you half a step closer, bodies slotting together. Your amusement faded and you didn’t know what to say, the lines of his body making your thoughts spiral where they rested against yours.

“I know. Ridiculous to think you’d ever be interested in me.” His hand slid to your hip, burning through the thin material of the silk, “hard to compare when you have Dylan Wilson flirting with you.”

“Lars,” you breathed.

“Not that is surprises me. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room. You’re the most beautiful woman in every room. What man wouldn’t want you?”

You flushed at the compliment. It was the exact thing you’d wanted to hear from him for so long and yet he’d always remained silent on the matter. Even tonight, when he’d first seen you, no words had come. And now he was saying it but through gritted teeth, like he didn’t want to.

“Lars, you don’t-“ you tried to say.

“But you should know that you’re worth so much more than that piece of shit looking to spread AI across the world until humans are no longer necessary. You deserve the world and he can’t give it to you,” he all but growled, eyes turning back to the man presumably standing over your shoulder, eyes so hard it almost scared you.

“I know,” you said, soft to his hard.

“He’s just… so… what?”

His eyebrows drew together as he looked back to you and you had to press your lips together to keep from smiling. Confused Lars was a rare sight and yet you loved it every time you saw it. Your nails scraped along the skin of the back of his neck and you felt the full body shudder that went through him.

“He’s a pompous ass. And it’s hard to like someone when I’ve already got my eye on someone else,” you said.

“Oh.”

You took the last half step closer, closing every inch of distance between the two of you. With your hand on the back of his neck you could draw him down, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear as you whispered.

“And jealousy is an interesting look on you, Lars,” you whispered, “it’s a bit sexy.”

His hand flexed before tightening on your hip. You let him return to his full height, his cheeks flushed but his eyes staring down at you with such intensity it made your own cheeks heat.

“Who said I was jealous?” he asked, but he didn’t quite so cool about it.

“No one had to. You’re not hiding it very well,” you said.

“If not Wilson, who have you got your eye on?” he asked.

“If it’s not obvious by now, maybe you’re not as smart as you claim to be,” you said.

“I need you to say it,” he said.

You let him lead you in the dance for a few more moments, standing on a precipice. Your words would change everything. It was possible to turn around now, to keep it as it always was, to not go out on a limb. You hadn’t gone too far yet. You didn’t have to do this.

“Please,” he begged.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you were so jealous that I was dancing with another man,” you said.

“Because I wanted to be the one that was dancing with you. Because the moment you walked down those stairs you took my breath away. Because I’ve been trying o find the words all night to tell you how beautiful you are tonight and how beautiful you always are and how I’ve been falling for you since the moment we met.”

Okay, you weren’t expecting that.

“You’re the one I have my eye on,” you said, breathless from his confession, “you’re the only one I see.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he said, a smile spreading over his face.

“Are you going to kiss me now, or do I need to take matters into my own hands?”

He didn’t bother answer, leaning down to claim your lips with his. It was soft and sweet and all too fleeting. You had to fight the impulse to pull him back in, indulging in your desire to spend the rest of the night wrapped up in him. His hand tightened on your hip, eyes flicking up then back down to you. With how close you were standing, there was no room for Jesus even if he was two dimensional.

“Your friend is coming over here,” he said.

“Do you want to go somewhere else then?” you asked, “because I don’t care about this whole thing.”

“Will it disappoint you if I want to continue dancing with you?” he asked instead.

Your lips curled up into an incredulous smile. His hand slid from your head to the small of your back, pressing a kiss to the back of the hand he was holding. You felt yourself melt, realising you wouldn’t be able to say no to him. Not when he was looking at you with such hope and so much softness.

“You want to dance with me?” you asked.

“There’s something romantic about it. Dancing with the woman you love in a beautiful ballroom,” he said, a touch bashful and yet it only made your heart beat feaster.

“You’re a secret romantic.” The wonder in your voice only seemed to make him more embarrassed.

“May I cut in?”

Dylan, back again, clearly not reading the room correctly, or not caring.

“No,” Lars said,” you may not.”

He spun you away, taking you far from the rich asshole. You laughed, a sense of impossibility rising within you. The entire night was gilded with unreality, like you’d stepped into the pages of a novel or onto the silver screen. It was like fiction.

“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” you asked when the laughter subsided, not even bothering to wipe the lovesick look off your face.

“I don’t believe so,” he replied, giving you one of those cocky half smiles you’d grown used to whenever he managed to impress you.

“Let me fix that then,” you said, tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck, “you look devastatingly handsome tonight.”

His lips pressed against yours and you had no idea how he was keeping you dancing when all thoughts flew from your head. The way he smiled when he drew back was bright, like you’d made all his dreams come true. And maybe you had. But he’d made all yours come true too.

[snootlestheangel]

The backburner idea I mentioned in my recent ask thing even though no one asked for more cause it's weighing on my brain today

Where the Riley family is still alive ft. Roach

This actually has self-harm mentions, some homophobia

Ghost who keeps a good relationship with his family, his brother especially. A lot of the people he knows outside of work and would consider his friends are people he met through Tommy. However, one of these people is Gary Sanderson, whom he went through many of his early military years with, and who was there to pull the Riley family from the house fire.

Roach, Ghost, and a third mutual friend of theirs named Jason all live together in a little place out in the middle of fucking nowhere. (Apparently there's a Jason guy in one of the black ops games and I did not know that until just now so these two are NOT correlated)

Ghost who practices semi healthy coping mechanisms: such as doing productive things rather than destructive. He's a damn good soldier and he uses that to his advantage: his therapist understands this and basically "ordered" he find different coping mechanisms. Every time he's home and feels the need for a cig, clean the floors or some shit. Baking is his way of coping with suicidal thoughts/self harm. Jason (goes by Jay) usually rats him out to Tommy when he sees Simon baking, and the three of them (Roach, Jay, Tommy) all hang out while Simon bakes. Mostly cause it makes him feel better about baking cause there are multiple people there to eat what he makes, and it helps him know he's not alone. Tommy doesn't leave until Simon starts washing all the dishes and utensils used.

Except Simon finds out he really loves baking, and Drunk!Simon especially loves showing off that yes despite his lack of sobriety he can make some killer brownies. And sometimes Jason makes the panicked call to Tommy before realizing it's only drunk Simon, and oh well, it won't hurt to have more eyes and ears to babysit his ass.

Ghost's little family is scuffed and they've been through some shit, but they're close and they love each other no matter what.

Soap isn't so lucky.

He knows his family would never approve of his sexuality, and he's kept that shit under lock and key for years, decades even. But after coming home from a particularly violent assignment, he's not in the mood to listen to his drunk uncle spout a bunch of his usual homophobic shit.

And he outs himself in the process.

And he's basically told to walk out and never look back.

He's in a real dark place, and makes the desperate decision to call Ghost in the middle of the night in hopes he doesn't do something stupid.

And Ghost has just finished up his last batch of cookies for the night, and has been rather enjoying himself this evening. He's drunk, he's with some of the people he loves most, and he's absolutely in love with the new recipe he's found.

Some shenanigans while Soap and Ghost are on the phone, of course.

I have a couple different ways to approach the rest but I'm cooking up something so I'm gonna keep it to myself for a bit longer

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Could I please request Lisa, Noelle, and Sara with an S/O who loves spiders, and spiders also love them to the point that their house has a lot of them and they act as a defense system?

(Genshin Impact) Lisa, Noelle, Sara, and Shenhe's S/O using spiders as a defense system

To quote my my main man Gary:

I also don't normally have to give out any warnings but: Content Warning: Spiders (obviously)

Lisa isn't afraid of bugs, but she'd prefer not to deal with them due to the mess they leave.

And at first, she finds S/O's affection for spiders kind of cute.

They treated such small things with great care.

Until she noticed that S/O just lets them sit on their shoulder. And not just a single one either, there's always two or three at the bare minimum.

Thankfully, at her request, S/O does not let spiders make their home in Lisa's house.

But S/O's?

By the Gods, it's absolutely infested.

She's fascinated and disgusted at the same time, seeing how they make way for S/O as they all skitter out of their path.

(Lisa) "I think I'll wait for you to grab your things out here, S/O...N-No, I don't need to come in, thank you."

She once saw someone try to break into S/O's home, only for them to completely overrun by spiders.

Instead of eating them like she expected the spiders to, they dragged them all the way to a nearby Knight who was horrified, and the burglar was quickly arrested.

It makes her stomach churn, honestly.

(Lisa) "Dear, thank you for leaving your um...friends, to put it gently, home, and not bringing them to the Library."

Noelle is about ready to exterminate them all in the name of the Knights of Favonius!

...Until she realizes S/O can speak to spiders.

(Noelle) "Are you some sort of...arachnid whisperer, S/O?"

Noelle is intrigued, yet highly disturbed.

It went against her maid nature to let the swarm be, but if they actually responded to S/O, then clearly they were friends!

...R-Right?

Noelle screamed on instinct upon first entering S/O's house.

It was completely clean, yet spiders were around every corner, and the webbing on the corners of the walls made her eye twitch.

(Noelle) "S-Steady yourself, Noelle! You can't just...c-clean S/O's house without permission!"

And seeing what they did with an intruder before, Noelle does not want to seek the enmity of spiders.

Sara is absolutely disgusted.

It was one thing to have a rogue spider hiding in your house, but an entire other thing to have nests of the things in every single conceivable room.

Sara doesn't really care about bugs, but an entire houseful of them is where she crosses the line.

(Sara) "S/O, can't you just...tell them to live outside?"

She still can't believe that the spiders actually respond to S/O whenever they ask them to move or get something.

It was impressive they could do that, but Almighty Shogun help S/O if she found the spiders crawling around near the Tenshukaku.

(Sara) "Gah! S/O...d-don't have the spiders just sitting on your head. It makes you seem unkempt."

It deeply unsettles her as she one time watched a treasure hoarder get overrun by spiders and tossed into the nearby river.

Well, at least she didn't watch someone get eaten alive in front of her.

(Shenhe) "...There are spiders on you, S/O."

Shenhe moves quickly to crush them, only for S/O to wave their hands to defend them.

She may not have had contact with her fellow humans in a long time, but even she knew that this was not something normal.

At first, she wonders if S/O is an Adeptus, or trained to speak to animals in such a keen way.

Nah. They just really like spiders, and they seem to like them back.

...Neat.

(Shenhe) "You allow spiders to rest in your house? May I ask why?"

Shenhe doesn't understand at all how it works, but if they treat S/O and her kindly, she has no problem with them.

She's used to the outdoors and dealing with bugs anyway, what she isn't used to is how friendly the two are.

She especially didn't expect to be working with them, as monsters tried to attack them one day, only to get absolutely mobbed by the spiders, commanded by S/O.

Shenhe makes a note in her mind to ask Cloud Retainer if there's anything special about these spiders, or if S/O is just that weird.

[ficsinhistory]

I think the problem with S3 of The Bear was that ok the mess, the coldness and the distancing and the plots in general...if it seemed like it was intentional. If they had a long term plan and this was a bait to change course later like good stories do. But it wasn't, it was just poorly written (and a bit racist).

For example, we could see Sydcarmy being separated because of Carm's worsening mental health and him wanting to convince himself that Claire is better because he doesn't want to make mistakes with the kitchen family and Syd anymore, more as a legitimate plot point and less as Storer wanting to sink Sydcarmy at any cost (which was a stupid idea and I don't even need to say why) if it didn't completely sideline Syd and obliterate her and Carmy's character in the process. Because that man may be chaotic and stupid as he may be, but Carm always cared about Syd's well-being at the end of the day.

Even after doing something stupid, Carmy always had this worry about asking how she felt about it. And that's what made their relationship different and the heart of the show. He can be distant and cold, but ignoring Syd's wishes? Doesn't give her credit when he was the one who asked her to be her partner in the first place??? The same person who recognized in 3x01 that the credit for them getting through the family and friends' night was solely hers, because he knew he had screwed up everything and didn't deserve to be part of it? Not only that, him being an idiot to Natalie, yelling about money when she was pregnant? Even though she was his only living sister? And that he started going to therapy at her request even though he didn't want to after realizing that yes, she was right? And not going to see his niece because he was more worried about Claire?? The woman who, let's be honest, he didn't like. I mean, he a panic attack thinking on HER!!! And now she is his peace??? Using suspiciously the term that the Sydcarmy fandom baptized Syd, almost as an affront. (And let's remeber Claire was pretty happy talking how she almost kill a teenage. I was bawling my eyes if was me. Weirdo (derogatory))

And speaking of her, Sydney Adamu, my beloved and favorite character, what did they do to you? She was thrown into the corner so much that I couldn't believe it. She is a protagonist and ok, she and Carmy are on tense terms, but why not take advantage of the fact that they are more apart to delve deeper into her and her relationships, find out more about her. Her relationship with her mother and father? Any flashbacks, since there were so many, about Sheridan and how this still affects her? She and the rest of the members of The Bear, Nat, Richie. She should exist outside of Carmy in her own right, but they just threw her in there and gave screen time to Claire and the Faks and that sucks. Which leads to another point, why don't you talk more about the og members of The Bear. Okay, we had Napkins for Tina, fair enough. But what about Gary, Ebra, Many? Marcus, whose mother died barely had any weight? It left a bitter taste in the mouth. If they want to fix this, they're going to have a lot of work to do, because history has taken everything to an almost unsustainable level. It's okay to be a tragedy, but give us the rays of sunshine, so we can believe in the best. And we didn't have that. It was just going in circles and that could cost the entire story.