#please you can’t ask me if I’m ‘always this romantic’ BITCH WHAT

[transthatfag]

fuck this is a situation. I HATE SITUATIONS 🔪

[carmenized-onions]

Don't Say It. | Closing Out

logline; just say it in every way but the one way that makes it weird.

[!!!] series history; did y'all notice the banner rebrands? tell me you think they look nice and good and cool or i'll. start crying.

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. how is it more than 7 hours. my god.

portion; 14k was hoping we'd reenter our single digits era but we ball

possible allergies; two mentally ills battle it out (romantic).

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader almost certain there are gendered bits/pronouns but can't honestly completely remember.

(new!) kofi; I have one now! if you've enjoyed the series, perhaps you wanna tip!

moving into a new place literally in two days!! high stress. so thank you for waitin' as always pwease enjoy and pwease tell me what you think!

You take a good long breath, sitting on the counter in the bathroom. Right. Time is linear and you’re in New York again— Never left. Right. Carmen’s sitting across from you, it’s kind of a shock this floating sink counter hasn’t collapsed under the two of you yet. How long have you been here? Swapping stories took a long fucking time, and there’s still, disgustingly, a lot to unpack. 

“Any shoes left undropped?” You drum your hands against your knees, the question is as much for yourself as it is for him.

Carmen opts to open with a soft ball. “You called me Carmy?” Before you knew me, you called me Carmy?

“I called you a lot of things.”

“Like virgin Michelin Star chef?” He’s failing to hide the upturned corners of his mouth, when he says it. 

You snort and nod, “Like virgin Michelin Star chef, or Carmy, or Carm, or baby boy, baby bear, mister New York— Basically all Mikey’s, I think the only one I coined was Charmin.”

“Charmin?”

“Like the—” He finishes with you, “—Toilet paper bears.” and whether he should be or not, he cannot stop laughing, when you confess this. 

“I thought it was a good bit!” “Cause I’m a piece of shit?” “Bitch—Cause you clean up, and you’re a bear, and Carmen sounds like Charmin, and Charmin sounds like charming and I—”

You pause, cringing, parasocial relationship coming to a head now. When your best friend wants you to get with his hot talented brother living in the Big Apple, it’s hard not to fantasize about, alright? “...I found you very charming.”

God, it’s just far too easy for you to render him completely speechless. It’s really not fucking fair. Carmen looks like a deer in headlights, he looks how he did in your car, a month or so ago, when he bit the bullet and asked you out. Well, promised to ask you out. He swallows, no more glass in his throat, but it does feel a little scratchy, kinda like, like pop rocks?

Pop rocks, yeah. Sweet, salivating. “Do you still?”

You squint, like he’s a moron. He is. “Of course I do.” Cherry pop rocks. Yeah, that sort of spritz feeling, on the tongue, and the way it continues to simmer all the way down. “I don’t want you to stop being you, by the way, Carm.”

“Huh?” What’s that supposed to mean? Of course you want him to change, he sucks.

“I—” You’re quick to clarify, straightening your posture. “I think it’s great to— to do the work, and therapy and reading and self-care— That’s all— That’s very good, and you should do it— For you, not me, but I— One bad night is not how I’ll think of you— You’re— You’re not a bad person, is I guess all I’m trying to fuckin’ say.”

You’re sweet. Sweet but with depth, slowly developed, caramelized, tart. Maybe a fruity molasses.

Carmen swallows, it’s hard to digest the sweet. “I— I’m not a bad person, but I could be better.” Pomegranate molasses. It’s got an acidic kick. Sort of like balsamic.

“I could be better, too.” Could you? Please God, don’t try, he can’t compete. No, shit, hold on, stop pedestaling. “You kinda got my ass, with peoples’ princess.”

Carmen cringes, there’s the acid. “I should not have said—”

“I have a fucking saviour complex, Carm. And it’s just as bad for everyone else as it is for me.”

Bite, yet tender. You continue on. “I do need to work on that. And I should’ve explained more when we first met, it was just— You know… I know you know.” Medium rare, steak medallion— No— rectangle. 

Pomegranate molasses, thick—Nearly sorbet thick. Poured onto the plate, centered, perfect circle. Medium rare wagyu steak— A3, maybe; too much fat would ruin the composition. Rectangular, off center. Dust with cherry pop rocks. Bizarre, but it might actually be something. Bad, but something. Not tired or overdone, that’s for sure. Anything but dusty.

Carmen missed you for a lot of reasons this week, but it’s almost annoying how merely being in your presence for a few hours has given him more inspiration to work with than he has had in the last one-hundred and sixty-eight hours, without you. But who’s counting?

It’s easy to make things, when they’re for you. When they’re about you.

“I should’ve listened, when you were ready, but I got defensive and—I— I do that a lot, clearly, I just—” Carmen tries not to bite at his nails and fingers, because his therapist, Sara, said not to do that. What the fuck does she know? A lot, actually.

“That’s just kinda how— we’d do things. Like that’s how we—” Carmen frowns, memories dawning on him. “…I guess maybe we never really talked.”

You don’t need to ask who we is. His family didn’t particularly set Carmen up for success. And every figure after his family didn’t really lighten the load. There’s not much for you to say or do beyond, “I like talking to you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re allowed to still be mad at me.” Carmen reassures, he’s not sure why he feels the need to do so. “You can— You can tell me to go fuck myself.” 

You shake your head, shrugging. “You can tell me to go fuck myself.”

He shakes his head, immediately, squinting, like you’re a moron; you are. “I would never tell you to go fuck yourself.”

It’s a silent moment of exchanging hard stares and trying to glean something from the other. Once you gather your findings, you finally return to your era of speaking in sync again, with, “I don’t hate you.”

It's a hellish realization, that you thought it was possible, let alone certain, to hate you. He could cry again. “Why would you ever think I hate you?”

You raise your brows, because how could you not think Carmen hates you? “Because you said—”

“I didn’t mean a fucking word.”  He says it differently than he did before. Like it’s a final warning. He immediately recoils at his own voice and its aggression.

“I’m sorry.” Carmen scratches his nose, continuing for the both of you. What more can he say? He’s already said it a million times, so what’s one more? When you try to speak, he doesn’t let you. Because he knows you. He knows you’ll brush it off. “I don’t want you to forgive me, right now. I want to prove I earned it.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

“Yeah, Sara said that, too. You’re both wrong.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your therapist can be wrong, in this scenario.”

“Please.” Carmen props his knee up on the counter, his hands, in some way, mimic a prayer. He holds eye contact, he thanks whoever is in charge that you’re holding it again, too. “Let me earn it.”

Carmen will learn that he doesn’t need to earn anything or prove anything to anyone eventually. He’ll need more than six therapy sessions crammed in during his lunch breaks, for that. But right now, he needs to prove this. Needs to earn you. For now, you'll give it to him. For now, you just nod. 

Carmen chews his bottom lip, he doesn’t want to say it but he has to. “When I said—” You failed Mikey. “—What I said— I didn’t mean it how I said it.”

You bring your legs up, criss crossing them. “How’d you mean it?” How else could he possibly mean it?

“I meant it like— Like— Of course he died.”

They’re Berzatto men, they’re doomed. “Nothing you could have done would have stopped him from dying— And I— It hurt cause it felt like— In—In that moment— In my head—” He puts a hand up, pausing to reassure, “Nothing you did. But I felt like I was ‘Round Two’ for you. Charity. I—”

Carmen swallows, looking down, can’t meet your eyes for the moment, but he points at you. “You didn’t fail Mikey— He failed to know he was worth saving.”

A wound closes up, a little bit, somewhere in your head and heart.  “I think in some ways, I was trying to make up for something—”

You’re quick to clarify, too. “But not cause you’re you— Cause I’m me.” Have to do it all. Have to fix it all. Have to save it all. “Like— I think I might have that edge of paranoia for like, like a long time, if not… forever?”

 You frown; what a bleak idea. “Fuck, I may need to go back to therapy, too.”

“You want Sara’s card?” “Sliding scale?” “Sliding scale.” “Is it weird to have the same therapist?” “Probably.” “I’ll look into it.”

You both laugh, the weighted blanket of tension over you both is finally lifting. Carmen’s capable of looking you in the eyes again. “You did literally everything someone could think of.”

You kiss your teeth, you could’ve done a couple more things. “I mean, location—”

“He never would’ve given it to you.” “That’s exactly it, though— I should’ve put my foot down more. I was never as strict as I was supposed to be.” “But if you were strict he wouldn’t let you help him.” “Sponsors are meant to be strict.” “Then he wouldn’t’ve let you be his sponsor.” “Then I shouldn’t have been his sponsor!” “Then he would’ve never joined the program!” “Well—” “It’s not your fucking fault!”

Carmen doesn’t hate you, Carmen doesn’t think you killed his brother. Heavy exhale of too many emotions and a touch of relief. But you can see yourself in his expression. You can see Richie in his expression. The guilt. The haunting. You swallow, “Not yours, either.”

“I could’ve called more.” “He wouldn’t have answered.” “I could’ve realized why.” “And how exactly could you have done that?” “...I dunno, could’ve— Could’ve been the guy, for him.” “Carmen you were the guy, for him.”

Carmen shakes his head. “You were the guy, for Mikey.”

“I— Okay—” You click your tongue, this is hard to explain. You shift on the sink counter, trying to get more comfortable. You won’t. It’s a fucking sink. “I was the guy, but the guy to another guy isn’t much— you—” You snap your fingers, pointing at him. “You’re not the guy, Carmen. Never will be.”

“Ouch.”

“No— You’re something much more important than the guy. You’re— You’re the, the cat.”

He can’t help but smile, confused. He’s so used to bear comparisons. “I’m the cat?”

“You’re—” You keep pointing at him, thinking the metaphor in your head through. “...The guy is— Is like the host of the house party. He keeps the jokes going, the room light, the drinks and food stocked— He talks people through panic attacks while they sit in the bathtub, he loses at beer pong on purpose to make the other team feel better, the guy makes everyone feel like they’re the center of the universe.”

“And the cat?”

“The cat is upstairs, locked in his room, because the cat will get all jittery if he’s around all that yelling and all those people. The cat doesn’t even like those people. And the guy doesn’t want his cat to go through that. But then, when the guy finally gets all jittery and can’t handle all those people himself—” You sigh, honestly stressed by your own metaphor, thinking of all the moments in your life you needed the cat and didn’t call.

“He’ll go upstairs, to his room, and the cat will be there, and he can talk to the cat— Because the cat likes him. And nothing will be solved, but it’ll still feel good and the cat will still think his guy’s perfect and wonderful even when the guy is just— just him— And the cat asks literally nothing of the guy— Unlike everyone else downstairs— and that’s exactly why the guy wants to give the cat everything over anyone else.”

God, you’ve been talking about cats and guys too much. “Not everyone needs a cat, but the guys that do, really do. And you’re… You’re the cat— Mikey’s and mine.”

Carmen can’t say I love you, because that would be an insane response. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. But it’s the only thing he can think of. The only thing he can say besides that, is, “You’re very good to me.”

You’re not exclusively for Carmen, he knows that. You’re not made for him— You’re made for many things. But maybe you’re curated. The Bear wouldn’t exist without your advocacy. And it’s hard to believe, but there might’ve been even more broken shit at The Beef, if you hadn’t been there before Carmen got there. Mikey got to be your friend, before Carmen did. And you got to be Mikey’s friend, when Carmen didn’t. But you both kept him in mind, you told Mikey to text, you drew schematics for his restaurant, you said you’d talk to him. You thought he was charming. You still do. You’re Mikey’s pick, for Carmen. And it’s not like Mikey’s opinion matters that much, but it’s nice to have approval. Though he didn’t fucking ask for it.

“Such a cat response.” “Is that like being a Leo or some shit?” 

You both laugh. Ah, thank fuck, it’s you two, again. There’s a comfortable silence while you think for a second, before asking, “Can I add another thing to your non-negotiables?”

“Always.”

“I don’t want you to be different for me.” You think back to being in his kitchen, the way he tried to hold back, when you were around. “I get you, work you, home you— If you want me to be your fuckin’ mixologist, you’re gonna have to get comfortable working with me.”

“You still want to work for me?”

“I shook on it, didn’t I?”

He laughs through a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“Damn,” You snort, “Are you only with me for my skills?”

“No, I’m with you because you’re— You.” The kitchen needs you, The Bear needs you, Carmen needs you. He’s the cat, he doesn’t need anything more than you. He can work on his codependency issues in therapy, okay? “I— I like having you around.”

You readjust your posture again, it’s hard to get comfortable on a sink. “Well, you better get paid soon, then.”

“‘Bout that.” Boy came prepared. He rifles through the pockets of his black jeans, and pulls out a folded slip of paper. He does a yoga class worthy stretch to hand it to you, from across the sink. A paystub, from The Bear, to Carmen. Officially on fucking payroll.

Yeah, turns out, just a bad week, last week. Being in the red doesn’t last forever. Neither does being in the green. There are ebbs and flows. Next week will probably be shit, and yet the wheel still turns. Carmen also might’ve very well plugged in half of the numbers wrong, according to Sugar, when she eventually got to looking at it. But that’s neither here nor there. So he’s reactive. What’s new? Should’ve believed the you in his head, when she said there will be good and bad weeks. He’s still working on being the only voice in his head. But you’re a good replacement for the other guy, for now.

You stare at it, like an ancient scroll. It’s real. He’s really getting paid— Pretty decent too, he could finally buy some fucking furniture, with this. “Okay.” You look up from the slip to him. He looks like he’s on fucking Shark Tank, anxiously awaiting your approval. “And you’ll act like you?”

“I will act like me.” Even when he doesn’t want you to see it, Carmen will act like Carmen. 

And that’s all you could ask for, really. You’re about to approve the deal, but then you think again, frowning. “The Exec.”

“Ah.” Carmen shuts his eyes, embarrassed by his own brain. “I know.”

“So you thought about it?”

“I didn’t think about— It—” Carmen doubted his own conviction, because he doubts all of himself. But it really was not ever on the table, to give your number…That said— “I thought about loopholes.”

“Catfishing him?” You guess, and he affirms. “Catfishing him.” Hey, great minds think alike. Doesn’t make Carmen feel any less scummy, for considering abusing your likeness for sake of approval. 

“Did you go through with it?” 

It’s Carmen’s turn, to blink, slow to realize that you actually don’t know. “Richie didn’t tell you?” You still live in a world where Carmen isn’t completely batshit. 

You tilt your head, “Did Richie catfish him?”

“No, uhm—” He seems suddenly sheepish now. Can’t look you in the eyes, again. He nods and points to your pockets. “You got your phone?”

“Uh, yeah—” You pull it out, haven’t gotten any sudden creepshow texts, to your knowledge. “Should I be scared?”

Carmen shakes his head. “Nothin’ worse than what you’ve already seen.” He snaps his fingers at your phone, “Look up uh— I think it’s— Chicago Bear on Yankee Chef turf, or some shit.”

You have to take a moment, before typing, to just look at him with genuine pause. “...What?”

“Just do it.” “Did you kill someone?” “I do not have blood on my hands, the Tribune is just dramatic—” “The fucking Tribune?! Shut the fuck up, Carmy.”

Absolutely no way he’s in the Chicago Tribune.

Okay. Upon searching. Absolutely yes way he’s in the Chicago Tribune. Carmen’s trending on Twitter— Or rather, Chicago, The Bear, Bear, Carmy, Michelin Beef, Fuck the Yanks, and a million other keywords are trending— Local trending, but still trending. Chicago Tribune’s made an article archiving a handful of reaction tweets, summarizing whatever the fuck happened. Alright, this is taking too long, maybe you should just ask the man in front of you— “Oh my fucking God, there’s a video.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t watch—” Carmen is interrupted by his own voice coming through your phone. “—And what kind of fucking Chef doesn’t like black pepper? I’m white and overdone, but you’re an entire other goddamn beast—” “...That.”

It’s a screen recording of some patron’s Facebook Live at some New York restaurant David owns or whatever. Empire? That’s what the blurry signs in the video’s background seem to say. What’s his title at this point, anymore? Doesn’t matter.

It’s nice to see his blurry little face around ten to twenty feet from the camera get yelled at by a Carmen that is also many feet away, but his voice seems to be projecting throughout the whole restaurant; enough to be heard clearly through recording, anyways. “And it’d be enough to just be an asshole— But you’re a creep too— Never fuckin’ pray on my— my— bar staff, or I swear on my life—”

“Can’t make direct threats in New York, Cousin! Penal code!” You laugh when you hear Richie’s voice ringing out in the background. Thank God for whoever’s filming, because they pivot their phone to catch Richie, pretty much next to their table, calling out to Carmen. “It’s a fine!”

He looks tired but wired; they must’ve taken a pitstop here, before heading to the hotel. What a fun road trip finale. Richie is such a motherfucker for not telling you all of this first thing while you put on his cufflinks— This is not dirty details, this is front page shit! Literally! God, he buries the lead like it’s his fucking day job.

“Who gives a fuck about a fine? Everyone—” And back to Carmen. “This is David Fields, he’s the head of the head of the head, in their heads— He’s a fantastic chef, I don’t think he eats or sleeps or knows what another person’s hands feel like— He is fuckin’ brilliant at making the same three fuckin’ plates every fuckin’ day— With the most minute differences— And—And—And— He doesn’t even make them! He takes dishes from prozac riddled fucks like me, makes them worse and then puts his name on it! Unoriginal, a narcissist, and fucking bad at it!”

You don’t look up from your phone, eyes glued to the screen. “Holy fuck, Carmen.”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” “Is this good marketing?” “Wait for it, I guess.” “...Are you actually on prozac?” “No. I kind of blacked out. Made a point though, right?” “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Sorry, miss. Could I—” …Fak? Guess he did third wheel on the road trip to New York. He grabs the streamer’s phone. There’s a ‘what the—fuckin— excuse me?’ from behind the camera as Fak pivots the recording to himself. 

“Hey World, I’m Neil, that’s my best friend Carmy the Bear, over there.”

“Jesus Christ.” You look up from your phone to Carm, who was at first embarrassed and is now just trying to hold a straight face, hand over his mouth. “I’m aware.” He repeats. 

You squint, thinking.“...Best friend?” “...I guess he is?” “That’s— Okay— I don’t— Alright, we’ll come back to that.” And return to your phone.

Fak continues, taking advantage of the sudden screen time. “He’s a really good Chef, knows his shit, if you ever want to see how he does it, please come eat— Dine— Dine with us at The Bear, we’re in Chicago— on North Orleans and Huron— You can— Can book with us at The Bear dot—”

“Don’t have the site yet.” Richie interrupts the impromptu ad, hovering over Fak’s shoulder, barely whispering. “Still The Beef.”

Neil nods and continues. “The Beef dot squarespace—”

“It’s Wix.” “It’s fucking Wix?” “Your problem isn’t with the lack of a domain?”

“It’s Google Sites, actually.” You correct for no one, really, looking up from your phone to Carmen, again. “I made him change it so it wouldn’t have that ugly freemium bar.” 

Carmen snorts, shaking his head. Of course you did. “D’you design it?”

You let out a loud, “Ha!” before turning back down to the screen. “I think web design might be the one trade I can’t do.” But you’re willing to learn, if he needs.

Ah, the videographer managed to foist her phone back, returning to catch the very end of the Carmen Show. And it’s a wonderful finale, from Carm.

“—Fuck your two elements, fuck your face— Fuck everything about you— I cannot believe we gave you service— Let alone our best— For a guy in hospitality, you have no fucking right treating my host and somme like that. Fuck you—”

“Fuck you—” Finally a response from David, though it’s quickly interrupted, as Carmen finally starts to back away, not wanting a genuine fight if he doesn’t have to do it, but he certainly wants the last word. “No, fuck you—”

“Fuck you.” “—Chef— Stay in your fucking city— Stay in your fucking city— New Yorks great! Stay in it! We don't play in Chicago— Fuck you!”

Carmen comes back to his road trip squad, he notices the woman recording, and walks up to the camera. For a second, you genuinely think he’s going to square up with her— You’re pretty sure he at least thought about it. “Is she recording?”

“Streaming.” Answers Fak. “It’s the new thing.”

 Carmy opts to use his words, possibly because he could maybe get arrested. “Sorry, sorry— I just want to make it clear—”

He gestures to the fucker in the background, bouncers seems to be approaching. Carmen keeps going, face red but calming down, chasing his own breath. “This man worked— and works with wonderful Chefs who I learned a lot under— And— And— I have all the respect for them, and always will— But-But— when it comes to David Fields specifically—”

Your cherry and lamb dish was perfect. David’s palate is just not worth appealing to. Carmen won’t make that mistake again.

“—What he serves is consistently vapid, dusty, and dead on arrival— like his heart— And—And— When you pay him, dine with him, work with him, you are lining the pockets of some fuckin’ creep that pulls rank on honest cooks and servers. So. Decide if you want that. And uhm— Uh— Tip your servers. Don’t ask for their numbers— Like he does. Be normal. Thank you.”

“Carmen Berzatto, folks! Come— Come to The Bear!” Yells out Neil, as security finally seems to be coming for the Chicagoans.

Richie grabs Fak by the back of his coat, knowing when to bounce, shouting, “No legal names! Godssake— This has been Carmichael Burrowski, folks! Don’t call no one—!”

The screen recording ends, not long after that. You’re going to need maybe a… fifty minute nap, to process that. Maybe, somehow, this is good publicity— Maybe in some way, this is putting The Bear on the center stage. But one thing is fact, Carmen completely abandoned the idea of keeping appearances and getting a star through kissing ass. He completely abandoned the idea of being appealing to the man in his head. 

And he did that for you— And Richie— Which, honestly, makes it mean even more. Carmen’s a good boss. Not always. Definitely not always. But when it fucking counts, he is. Carmen's a good man. A good friend. A good not-quite boyfriend. Ugh, boyfriend? What kind of word is ‘boyfriend’? That's fucked.

You put your phone away, quietly nodding and thinking, not looking at Carmen. You shrug, attempting to be nonchalant. “Contract and I’ll be your mixologist.”

“Yeah?” There’s such a brightness, to the way Carmen asks. Like a spritz. “Okay. I’ll— I’ll send you a Docusign.” Aperol spritz. There’s more to it, than that though. 

You’re so zoned out, looking at the sinks instead of Carmen, he starts to get worried. He just got eye contact back, come on. Was the yelling too much in the video? He was loud and mean. He always is. He told you not to watch. 

“Tony?” What kind of bitters suit him? A slice of grapefruit might be nice. Bright but acquired.

“Are you good?”

“Wha—” You shake your head out of it, turning your gaze to Carmen. He jumped off the counter to stand by you. His hand hovers by your head— He considers grazing your hair, and chickens out. But he can’t put it down.  “Sorry, was— I was uh— Just thinking of what we could put on a cocktail menu, that’s all.” Yeah, that’s all.

“Don’t work on it, without me.” It’s with a, dare you say, panicked quickness, that he requests this. “Cocktail menu, coffee menu, we should— Should do R and D, together.”

“Yeah, f’sure.” Fucking Chefs, so particular about their menus. “I think it’d be good to uhm— Build it around the main menu, anyways. Sorta match stuff up.” Thankfully, you like particular.

He really needs to not be standing this close, though. Your brain keeps zoning in and out— It’s really not the time to be feeling any sort of type of way about Carmen cursing out that fucking chef and going to therapy for himself and you and he smells nice and he’s reading books and he worked bar all night with you and he looks so nice in bartender black in lieu of his Chef whites and he is trying so hard and— And you cannot say you love him because that would be weird. That would be weird and bad and too soon and stupid. 

And you can’t forgive him either— Well, not aloud, because Carmen wants to prove that he’s done the work— Wants to prove that he’s going to keep doing the work. He’s rendered you with nearly zero options here, to show your affection. 

“Yeah, that’s— That’d be good. I was thinkin’ we’d put your station by Marcus.” Why is he still talking about work? He’s so stupid. He’s wonderful. This is the worst. This is hell. “Coffee machine’s already there, and you’ll tend to share a lot of elements, anyway— I think.”

You shift your butt on the counter, turning to face him head on, he’s just slightly between your knees as your legs dangle off the counter. “Carmen.”

“Yeah?” “I’m going to kiss you.” “Yeah, okay.”

Light, nervous, sweet, lifting, soft— A delicate kick to it. Pink peppercorn bitters. That’s it.

Aperol— Vibrantly orange liqueur, derived from bitter rhubarb. It’s an acquired taste. Some say it’s citrusy and herbal, others say it tastes like cough syrup. Either way, it’s awakening. Then prosecco. A splash of soda— Lemon-lime would be best. Aperol spritz. It’s an Italian cocktail. It sparkles. Everything in it fizzes, almost competing with each other. It’s meant to be enjoyed before dinner. It’s refreshing. Pink peppercorns and grapefruit would only add to that brightness, that light. It’s not for everyone, but it is everything to some. That’s Carmen. That’s your Carmen. Oh, maybe a syrup on the rim?

You try to be delicate, the way you put the palm of your hand on the back of his head and pull him in, but it’s just not possible. It’s the first time in a fucking month you’ve initiated— It's been one-hundred and sixty-eight hours since you've seen his face, let alone touched it— It’s just not possible to be kind.

Thankfully, based on the way he’s leaning you back on the counter, hands on your waist, it doesn’t seem like Carmen wants kind. There's a sigh of relief, to just kiss you. He’s fine with the touch of hair pulling, on your part— Possibly more than fine. Possibly way more than fine. The faint whining and pulling your hips to his seem to indicate it’s a lot fucking more than fine.

It would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon to say I love you, but you can mouth the words against him and he can’t tell what you’re wording but at least you know. It’s funny that he can do the same to you, and despite knowing the trick, you can’t tell either. 

Carmen pulls back, just a centimeter, or two. He wants to say something. He’s opening his mouth to say something. He's all dopey and half-lidded. Man, he’s pretty. He knows that right? Yeah, he knows that. “You’re so pretty.” You tell him anyway, speaking into his half open mouth. 

Whatever thought he had, it’s dead now.“—Jesus fucking Christ.” He moves his hands to hold your face. It’s nice. It’s nice to get peppered with kisses— Yeah, pink pepper fits perfectly with him. 

Carm’s voice is heavier now. Maybe from the lack of oxygen. He’s fighting to revive his brain. He’s so serious, when he firmly kisses you, forehead against yours, lips still grazing, saying, “I’m not a fucking virgin.”

You laugh way too fucking hard for his ego. Your hands untangle from his hair, but your arms continue to rest on his shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He’s still amped, too bad you’re you, and you have to ruin the mood to poke at him.

“That a recent development?” “Shut the fuck up—” “I’m just wondering, if he was accurate at the time—” “Why are you doing this to me?” “Did you have a tantric affair in Denmark, the people wanna know!” “I— There was no time, alright? It got away from me—” “Remember when you had your first kind of girlfriend like a month and a week ago?” “It was a recent development, okay?” “Darn. Sorry I was late.”

He pauses the banter to just stare at you, take in your features, take in that you’re here and real and half underneath him. “Not forgiven.” You should’ve shown up sooner. You should’ve injected yourself so completely in Carmen’s life eons ago, and made yourself intrinsically impossible to remove. Absolutely not forgiven, for being late.

“Yeah?” Your eyes upturn, deeply amused. Carmen really is the baby brother. Entitled, bratty, cute. You’re planning to say something coy, something playful like ‘Ohoho, how do I earn your forgiveness?’ But you remember something Carmen said, when he was summarizing his Friday night for you— And for Carmen, what you opt to say is so much worse than hot banter, for his brain. 

“I don’t think your mouth tastes bad.” It’s your turn to take in his face and all its features. “I think it’s nice. It’s like the only way I can try cigarettes without getting a headache.”

“I wanna fly you to Paris.” It’s so quick, from Carmen. Choked quick— Like he fought to hold it down but you’ve just opened the Pandora’s box that is his mouth. He keeps going. Your surprised face firmly smushed in his hands.  

“I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since I asked you to run bar— I’ve— I’ve wanted to take you to Paris since you washed my hair— I—I—” Too much affection to contain in words, he has to kiss you, and then he has to keep going, and then kiss you between the ‘ands’, and then keep going. Like a shot and a chaser and a shot and a chaser and a—

“I want you to be permanent and carved in my tables and I want you to wear my jackets and I want you in my kitchen and in my menu and in every dumb fucking conversation I have at Christmas tellin’ family what the fuck I’m doing— I want you in every sentence.”

It’s not ‘I love you’. Because saying I love you would be weird and bad and stupid and too soon. But it might very well be more than that. Trying to avoid saying it might be forcing you both to say something that means more than that.

It’s hard to generate a response as poignant as that. Especially because your cognitive abilities seem to have gone completely offline. Your brain is telling you to kill the moment so you don’t have to face the feeling, telling you to say something stupid like, ‘Why Paris?’, because if you don't, you might say it. But you can’t. You’re totally speechless. 

Eventually, you manage to choke out, “I would like that.”

“Yeah?” “Yeah.”

“Good.” Ah, a smile from Carmen with teeth. What a rare gift you’ve been bestowed. He tries to celebrate this occasion with another kiss that will inevitably lead to a million more but when he goes for his classic move of sticking his head in the crook of your neck to bite you like a cannibal— You get the chance to look somewhere other than Carmen’s face, and realize you are both still very much so in a fucking bathroom at a fucking wedding in New York. 

“Fak is still outside, I’m pretty sure.”

Carmen groans, there’s no way you’re doing this to him again, come on, neither of you have to go this time, you have all the time in the world, in this bathroom. Time isn’t real here. That’s how bathrooms work. “He’s not.”

“Carmy’s right, I’m not.” Says definitely totally not Fak, behind the door. “You guys kissin’ yet?”

“Christ.” You put a hand on Carm’s chest, pushing him back from you as you push yourself up with your other hand. “Mood dead.”

“No—” He grabs your wrist, holding your hand in place against him. “Mood not dead— Mood present and alive—”

There’s some fumbling behind the door. “Wait— Are they?” Oh, so Richie’s here, too? Good. That’s great. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way— Cousin, be a gentleman—”

Carmen leans over and all but screams into your shoulder. “I am being a fuckin’ gentleman, Richard!”

You kiss your teeth, shaking your head, shrugging. “Yeah, it’s dead.” Them’s the breaks. 

A slow, heavy, arduous exhale, from Carmen, coming up to lean his forehead to yours for a second. Enjoying the liminal space before it’s permanently ripped out of your hands. “I hate my family.”

You smile, pressing your forehead firmer against his, nuzzling noses. “You love your family.”

“I love my family.” He sighs. He gives you one last kiss, soft, sweet, perfect. “Thank you for taking care of them.” 

You shrug. “They’re mine, too.”

God, you’re so quick and mind-bending, he has to go for another kiss, come the fuck on— “Mood’s dead.” You laugh, so cruel, jumping off the counter, maneuvering past Carmen, but you’re sweet— Cruel but sweet— Carefully switching his hold on your wrist to holding your hand, dragging him with you. 

You might be leaving the bathroom together, but Carmen’s pretty sure a part of him is going to stay there, like a ghost of a feeling, for the rest of time.

“Okay— Is everyone waiting to piss?” Is your first question, for the crowd awaiting you and Carmy outside the bathroom. Not strangers, though—Well, mostly not strangers. Richie, Syd, Fak, some guy that looks like Fak. There’s no way they all need to piss, there were three other bathrooms available, it's not like you were hogging. “Is fuckin’ anyone runnin’ bar right now?”

“Marcus is.” Syd answers, hurriedly, as she runs up on you, immediately enveloping you— Practically an attack. It’s not in her nature to hug, but you’ve forced her hand here. Carmen hasn’t even exited the doorway behind you yet before you’re stumbling back into him from the force of her. 

“Squ—”

The words come out of her like a flood, no spacing between the words. “I’m-sorry-I—  We-finished-serving-and-listened-in-on-everything-super-invasive-couldn’t-help-it— You should’ve called me.”

This— These motherfuckers. Oh well, saves you the trip to Denny’s. And frankly, you would hate to re-explain all that. You return the hug with your free hand, the other one still in Carmen’s. You put your chin on her shoulder. “I know.”

There were so many times where you could’ve just gone upstairs. So many times you could’ve just called your old cat. Should’ve just called Syd. She would have been there. Maybe that’s exactly why you didn’t call. 

“I should’ve called you.” Maybe that’s exactly why Syd never called her guy, when she needed you, too. 

“Well,” You pull her back by her shoulders, “We will next time.”

You can’t let the moment stay sincere for long though, shit-eating grin growing on your face, “You’d give up a star for me?” Nuzzling your face into Syd’s cheek as she desperately tries to get away from you now— Oh how the tables turn.

“Get fucked—” “You love me— I’m all you got, Syd? Woww—” “After my dad I said! After my dad!” “A single widdle tear from me isn’t worth a star?” “It was not widdle— Little— Fuck—”

“This is cute princesses but everyone get the fuck out of the way before I clog an artery.” Richie unnecessarily shoves his way between the Faks to get to you. 

You release Syd to face the man, pensive, waiting for a slap, honestly. Richie just looks at you, now that he’s in front of you he’s dumbfounded, awkward. He knows he wants to say something or wants you to say something but neither of you know what that is. What it should be.

Before he can figure it out, you do. “I should’ve told you.” Besides your therapist, Carmen is the only person you told about the phone call— Well, intentionally, that is. 

That doesn’t really seem to be the thing he cares about. He’s not going to slap you, and you don’t need to grovel. “Am I dead, to you?”

Your brows furrow, for a second. “Wha—”

Richie grabs your free hand, pressing it to his neck. “Check my pulse, am I dead, t’you?”

“First of all, wrong placement.” You have to wiggle your hand out of his grip to take his pulse correctly. “It’s under the chin, align it with your eye—”

“Do I have one?” “Yes, Richie, you have a pulse.” “So I’m not dead?” “You’re not dead—” “Then call me.”

When your breath hitches, he continues. “I’m not a ghost. I’m here. When shit happens, you call me.”

“I know.” Is the only thing you can say without your voice cracking. “I will call next time.”

“You will fucking call, next time.” Richie grabs your face, smushed in his hands. “And you’ll answer my calls, next time.” He forces you to nod— Not that you wouldn’t, but wants to make sure. “Am I heard?”

“You're heard.”

Richie can see over your head, so he barks at Carmen, who’s very innocently behind you, still holding your hand. “Get your weird little hands off my Chip, you perv—”

“I don’t have weird little hands—” 

Syd pipes in, squinting. “Why is that the thing you refute—”

“Why does God let these moments happen to me?” You grumble, words muffled with your face still compacted by Richie’s hands. 

“I think it’s beautiful, actually.” Says some guy that looks like Fak. You just stare at him with your partially forced closed eyes. “Just the vibes, so— like— tender.”

“Who the fuck is this guy?” You deadpan, pointing at Other Fak. “Has this guy just learned shit I haven’t even told my own father?”

“We definitely just got here.” Lies Fak, next to Other Fak. He continues, “We didn’t hear anything about the really sad way you both actually did attend the funeral but didn’t—”

Other Fak astutely interrupts to add, sniffing. “But if we did it’d be like, like really meaningful that you both like, did that.” Is he tearing up? Richie needs to check your pulse, are you dying?

“Everyone please back the fuck up?” Carmen sighs, behind you, then beside you, letting go of your hand to put it on your shoulder. “Like maybe give two solitary fuckin’ seconds?”

There’s a stuttering of apologies as everyone realizes yeah, maybe a bit much to immediately jump you. Richie drops your face, everyone takes a step back.

You keep staring at Other Fak. Squinting, you point to him. “Ted?” Guy who they called instead of you?

He nods, “Hi—”

“No.” You wave your hand in front of his face, cutting him off. You turn to Carmen, just shaking your head plainly. “No.”

“Heard.”

“Y’know how going to a different barber is like cheating—?”

“No, like I got it—”

“This is like times a thousand—”

“I am hearing the note—”

“Fak can— Neil can fix shit, I took his spot, it’s fair— Outsourcing someone though—?”

“Won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t.”

“It was— Should I have called you back in?”

“No, you should have had a broken light until we talked it out or let it be broken for the rest of your life.” There is not much you could ever find yourself getting genuinely jealous about— This, however, is a knife to the heart. Another handyman is a child out of wedlock, practically.

“Heard.”

“I spent way too long stalking you.” Interrupts Syd, she’s looking at her phone, a jumble of aggravated misspelled texts coming from the work group chat. “Fuck, I’ve gotta help Tina with clean up— We’ll—” She sticks a hand out, you reach out and hold it, for a moment. “You’re still— We’re still sharing, right?”

You tilt your head, confused, oh— “I’m still gonna sleep in our room, Syd. You weird pervert.”

Syd lets go of your hand, shaking her own hands around her head, talking just as fast as she speed walks away to the kitchen. “I am not a weird pervert, I’m sexually normal, don’t be weird, goodbye! Love you, fuck you, see you later!”

Richie claps his hands, “We’re closing out, so I’ve gotta go pick up vases or some shit— Faks, c’mon—”

“Y’know we’re just regular guests, right?” Says Ted. They let Fak come on the road trip despite not doing a job? Medals of Valor need to be doled out.

“Pbbt, come the fuck on, here boy.” Richie starts to walk off, and the whistling is condescending, but they listen anyway. Rich looks over his shoulder, snapping his fingers at Carmen. “Probationary forgiveness.”

Carmen nods, “Thank you, Chef.”

“Dee-Dee’s here, by the way.”

Carmen’s relaxed posture immediately pulls into a taught physique, he’s considering chasing Richie to get more details. “Isn’t Sug here, too?”

“Yessir!”

“Have they—” “They got grouped at the same table. Unc and Stevie have been keepin’ the peace.” “How’s that going?”

“Your guess is as good as mine!” And with that Richie fades into the crowd of straggling guests and clean up crews. 

You don’t know much about Donna, which was a very intentional choice on Mikey’s part. And that kinda tells you all you need to know. You turn to Carmen, pensive. “You wanna go find out?”

He itches at his collar, thinking. “I think if I say I don’t, I’m a bad son.”

“You didn’t ask to be her son.”

“Oh, fuck, okay.” He stumbles for a second, you immediately cover your mouth. 

“Sorry! I just—” Inside thought got outside. “I just meant— That was a lot. It’s just like, I dunno, you can’t be bad at something you never opted in for, y’know?”

“No, yeah, that— That’s kind of… a good thought.” He nods, looking at the ground, swallowing the words. “I— I should be a good brother—and—and Uncle, at least. Say hi to Nat.”

You don’t start walking until he starts walking, intent to follow his lead. You’ll stroll casually, until they crop up, making no deliberate effort to find them. You’re both silently hoping you don't. Carmen brings his head back up to you. “You ever meet Mom—? Donna?”

You shake your head, “No, that was kinda one of our few red lines. For Mikey and me. He’d like—” You gesture with your hands as you explain. “He’d talk about her, and I saw like… photos of them from babyhood, but I never met her or heard details— Never like, came over to the house. It was just kinda like a silent agreement. Hard for him and hard for me with the whole— Uh—”

“Drinking thing.”

You nod. “It’s uh— I’m not easily triggered anymore, though, so I think I’m fine.”

Carmen sniffs, scratching his nose. “Well, if you end up not being fine, we can not— Like not talk to her.”

He’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s the cat. You nod. “You don’t have to talk to her either, y’know. Could just text Nat—” “She’s right there.”

You whip your head up in tandem with him saying, “Don’t look fas— Fuck.”

You put the back of your hand on Carm’s chest, you both stop walking. “That’s Dee-Dee?”

“Yeah, with the—the leopard print belt and the floral dress.” Carmen’s been growing meeker with each step. You’d think his biggest fear is clashing patterns. This is not the same bear in the Chicago Tribune. “Why, you— You do know her?”

“She looks fuckin’ familiar…” You kiss your teeth, trying to roll back in your memory— Come on, you don’t forget shit, where is she from? You’ve seen photos but those were blurry and she was so much younger. You remember this version of Donna, you remember her from somewhere.

“Fuckin’ — Something with Pete— I saw her with Pete— Nat’s husband—” You point to him, across from Donna, at the table. “Him, yeah.”

“Just them?” Carmen gently pulls your arm down, you’ve gotta remember your manners.

“Yeah, I was— Oh, I was—” You squint. “Did Donna come to your opening?”

“No, she was invited, but she didn’t show.”

“Okay— So, she did, actually.” “Huh—?”

“She was— She was outside, when you were in the walk-in.” You nod to yourself, still thinking through the memory. “Yeah, she was outside— I thought Pete was like her son— It looked like they were fighting or crying so I just kinda— Kinda let it be. You were locked in a fucking freezer so I chose my battles.”

“Oh.” Carmen nods, trying to make it seem normal in his head. It’s not. And he can’t seem to force it. “He definitely didn’t tell Nat.” Because Nat would’ve told him.

You hum, rocking on your heels. “Yeah there's no chance we're going to go say hi now, is there?”

“Yeah, that might be best.”

You fold your lips in a line, still staring at Donna, she looks normal, which makes it feel even less normal. Way too much to unpack, if you go over there. Instead, you’ll stand here in the middle of the banquet hall, and unpack the carry-on luggage, so to speak. “Christmas is in a week.”

It’s a freight train of realization, Carmen drags his hand down his face. “Fuck me.”

“I know.”

“I have to go, don’t I?”

You frown, turning your head to him, not wanting to say what you’re going to say. “Do you think she’ll plan anything?” First Christmas without Mikey. Will she have the willpower to plan something, like she usually does?

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I know.”

Carmen holds his hand over his mouth, words somewhat muffled. “I’ll ask Nat, see what she’s doing. Baby’s first Christmas, or whatever. That’s a thing, right?”

“Baby’s do traditionally experience time, yeah.” “You n’ that smart mou—”

Despite staring at their table, the two of you did not notice Natalie approaching you, baby Michaela swaddled in her arms. “Oh my God, I haven’t seen normal human beings that aren’t screaming or shitting constantly in so long— Please— Say something normal and fun.”

You pucker your lips, trying to come up with something. “Ah— Fuck, I can’t think of anything— Oh fuck, sorry I said fuck— God— I’m just gonna stop talking.”

Nat lifts her hand up for a moment to wave you off before re-supporting her baby. “No! No, don’t! Say fuck so much. Say it all the time. She can’t understand, she doesn’t care. I wish I was her.”

“Will do.” You just nod, holding a hand up to Michaela, waving. She grabs one of your fingers, holding on tight. You can’t help but coo. “Hey, baby! Have you been fuckin’ with your mom’s sleep schedule? Awe, yes you have! Yes you have!”

Nat laughs and hums, “Richie told me you used to babysit Eva.” 

“He’s exaggerating.” You leave your hand with Michaela, but look up to Nat. “There were just some weekends he was working and daycare wasn’t running so I’d take her around the city for a couple hours— More like playdates than actual babysitting.”

“That just sounds like you’re a fun babysitter.” Carmen rebukes, Nat nods. 

“I’m good when you only need a second.” You sigh, half taking the compliment. You glance over Nat’s fatigued face. “You need a second?”

“Yes, fuck, could you?” In the same breath, she’s handing you baby Michaela. “She has in fact been fucking with mommy’s sleep schedule— And no one tells you— ‘mommy strength’ or whatever, needs to be developed— My lats— I think they’re lats? Are insane now. Just from holding her!”

You bounce the baby in your arms, sidling her on your hip. She’s a grabber, that’s for sure. Grabbing your hair, your top, Mikey’s chip— No longer tucked under your clothes. You let her. Well— Not the hair— She could cut off her circulation— Relax, EMS. You’re off duty. “How’s it going with—”

Nat knows what you’re asking before you finish the question. “Better than normal, which makes it feel worse. Does that make sense?”

You nod, “Completely and utterly.”

Carmen’s staring at Pete. He’s not typically a snitch but this is his sister, “Did Pete tell you—?”

“That mom was there on our fucking opening and he told her we were having a baby? Yes, about five minutes before she sat down.” Nat says it with a perfectly practiced smile and a simmering anger.

Your hands slip just slightly, you readjust your grip on Mickey. You and Carmen speak together, “He what?” 

Nat doesn't mean to ignore your both but she does, “How'd you find out?”

“I just told him.” You pipe up, guilt covers your face. “I saw them when I came that night. Sorry, I didn't realize that was your mom— Or husband, for that matter.”

Sug shakes her head, waving off the apology. “Not your fault, his.”

“Yeah.” Carmen nods, “Back to that, by the way?”

“Yeah, he realized it was kind of a hard lie to uphold— Because mom sucks at acting surprised.” She sighs, “She’s taking it well publicly but I’m expecting a full blown meltdown in the bathroom of which I can’t escape, so. Beautiful wedding.”

“Yeah, those are kind of unavoidable.” You just had one yourself. “Fingers crossed you make it out alive?”

“Oh, I’m making it the fuck out, it’s her you should pray for.”

You have to respect the power in that. “Damn.”

“I didn’t ask to be her daughter! If she hands it to me I’m handing it fucking back—” Nat’s brain is always running like a faucet, she cuts off her own thoughts with a new one. “Christmas is in a week.”

“We know.”

“Fuck me.” She sighs so hard it blows strands of hair out of her face. “What the fuck are we gonna do, Carmy?”

“Was gonna ask you.” Carm’s distracting himself with Michaela, she reaches for his hand, she doesn’t grab a finger, she traces his tattoos. God, babies are cute sometimes. “Can we figure it out later?”

“Yeah, like everything else we do, I guess.” Sug groans. But she just as equally doesn’t want to think about it as him. And honestly, she’s just happy to see him acting like a fucking uncle for once.  “Tony, will I see you at work on Monday? You’re onboarding, right?”

You don’t notice the way Carmen’s face stones up, like a secret has been revealed. He’s been preparing for you to say yes. He’s got that Docusign in his inbox, ready to send. Had Nat budget you in. But you don’t seem to be upset about it— Or maybe you just didn’t catch that Carmen selfishly was hoping you’d come right back to him. Maybe it’s just that you don’t think it’s selfish.

“Oh— Uh, yeah, I guess you will.” Michaela starts to smack you for not giving her attention for more than seven seconds. You turn your head to her, bouncing her again, “Pbbt—Pbbbt— Mat leave over?”

“Gonna need to be.” Nat laughs when she says it, like you’re both on some sort of inside joke. Yeah, The Bear’s kind of a nightmare, of course Nat’s always needed. You laugh back, though there wasn’t really a joke anywhere in there.

“Make sure you get your rest.” Sug scoops Michaela out of your arms, rejuvenated from her second of peace. “Your boss is kind of an ass.”

Unfair drive-by, Carmen waves a hand like a white flag, “Alright—”

“I know, I like him anyways.” “Gross.” “I know, it sucks.”

“Okay, okay,” It’s way too obvious how happy Nat is that her brother has someone. “Both of you get the fuck out of here before she sees you, I told her you’d be too busy in the kitchen to say hi.”

She knows her brother, and Carmen’s grateful for it, but, “Are you sure? I can—” 

“I love you, Bear.” Nat gives him a kiss on the cheek, and you a quick hug. “But fucking run, seriously.”

Carmen nods, “Heard. Love you, Bear.”

You quickly dash off together, blending into crowds to go unnoticed. Mumbling plans out as you sprint. “I’ve gotta help Marcus close out the bar.”

“I’ve gotta pack up our equipment.” “You’re on the fifth floor too, right?” “Yeah, you’re rooming with Syd?” “Yeah, you and Richie?”

“I got my own room.” “Okay, rich boy.” “I— It’s a fuckin’ Holiday Inn, it’s not that bad—” “Oooh, Charmin gets his first paycheck suddenly he’s all that—” “You wanna come up to my room or not?”

“Oh?” You practically skirt on your heels when you suddenly stop walking, “He’s bold now—”

“I— That’s not— Like we—” He can’t dig himself out of this one, and his darting eyeline is giving him away. “You told Syd you’d still sleep in your room— I just meant like— Like we could— hang out.”

“We could hang out?” “Stop—” “I’d love to hang out, dude.” “We can watch a movie or somethin’—”

You gasp, thought occurring to you. “Yeah, let’s watch a movie. I wanna watch a movie.”

“I don’t like the look that just happened in your eyes.” 

“Yes, you do.” Your turn to smush Carmen’s face in your hands, kissing him with a comical, all too wet, and in no way seductive muah—

Which somehow just makes it all the more entrancing, for him.  “Yes, I do.”

You smile, letting him go, splitting off from Carmy in favour of your bar. “I’ll meet you in the lobby, go be a good boss.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“How are they not seeing him fuck up the soup— That— A whole pot—” “You’re literally saying exactly what Remy is saying right now—” “I— Good. I’m still mad about the five star thing.”

Carmen likes Ratatouille. Likes it enough to nitpick. He relates to the weird rat with a complex family dynamic and having a brother that means well but fucks with him so much. He relates to the no credit, the starving, the death and desire of feeding the ego, Carmen relates to feeling like a freak in his own kitchen. 

It is weird to feel seen by a rat. 

But it’s nice to have you in his room, in his bed, watching some dinky little red-head try to survive in a French kitchen. It’s nice to occasionally watch you instead, out of the corner of his eye. He thought of roughly… fourteen more recipes since leaving the bathroom with you? Who would’ve thought that watching someone use a makeup cleansing balm would be inspiring?

What? It melted beautifully. Or maybe you’re just beautiful? Whatever. You emulsified it in your hands. Emulsion? Coconut emulsion would be interesting; very similar creme texture. On top of a souffle? Delicate. But it still needs zip. The glitter from your eyeshadow makes him think of zesting. Lemon zest. Needs more scent, though. Oh, maybe Kaffir limes. That’s a weird dish. That’s never gonna work. He has to get better at subtracting around you. 

He’s doing pretty good at not saying I love you, though, so, that’s something. 

“The houndstooth pants are cute.” You hum, as Linguini finally kisses Collette— Though by a rat’s volition. A win is a win. You lean into Carmen’s side, watching the movie pirated on his laptop, because hotel tv pay-per-view was so overpriced for no reason. “Oh, fuck, what’s my uniform gonna be?”

“Chef whites, no?” His arm is around your shoulder, it’s nice. “I can get you a jacket—”

“Well, your servers wear black— And I’m gonna be like, like both right?” You turn your head to him. Bad idea. He’s still very pretty, if not prettier in pajamas. “Like, making drinks in the back and then acting as somme out front. So all black?”

“Hm.” Carmen tries not to frown. Tries not to see you wearing black as you being on the other team. “I guess.”

“Richie’s not getting me in a fuckin’ button up, though.” You don’t notice his expression’s minute faltering, crossing your arms, thinking. “Sleeveless black turtleneck? Maybe black palazzo pants, could do what fuckin— Linguini’s doin—”

You point at the screen. “The bright red converse? Could do all black and then bright blue converse? Would that be cute or is that deeply unprofessional?”

Carmen tilts his head back and forth, trying to let you down easy, “I wouldn’t call it deeply unpr—”

“Heard. Okay, maybe like— Like a red bottom heel—” You kick your foot up in the air, for no real reason. A shoe isn’t suddenly going to appear on it for display. “Like not actual ones, duh— Like a black boot and I paint the sole blue—” 

“What’s with you and blue?” He's deeply amused, or maybe that's just Carmen's constant state, right now, twirling his fingers through your hair without a care in the world.

“It’s like, Bear colours. You do blue. Aprons, baskets— I guess I’m thinking of The Beef, but like, your lighting is kinda blue.” You shrug. “I wanna match.”

He nods, eyes on the movie, thinking far too much— Well, for the average person. For Carmy it’s a perfectly normal amount of thinking. “All black, blue sole, blue earrings, maybe? White apron for when you’re in the back?” 

Please say yes to the white apron. Please say yes to his team. He'll get your initials monogrammed and everything.

“Yeah, that’s a cute look. As long as it’s easy to take off.” You hum. “Oh, y’know, Richie wanted to—” 

Speak of the Devil, and he shall call you for the fifth fucking time. “Fuckin— Pause it, hold on—”

Carmen pauses the wonderful rat chef in tandem with you answering the phone with, “I’m not fuckin’ comin’ to pool, Cousin!”

In one ear, out the other. “Fuck you! When are you getting here?” 

“I am not getting out of bed to play pool— A game I have not played— With a bunch of fuckin—”

“If you’re not down here in five minutes, Chip, on God—” “I’m gonna fuckin’ hang up again you motherfucker—” “And what? You’ll just answer again, won’t you?”

Richie’s tone gives him away. He’s giggling, bubbly, absolutely tanked on dirty shirleys. But there’s a very genuine joy to it. You’ve answered his stupid meaningless calls every time, the last four times, despite knowing they are in fact, stupid and meaningless. And that is rife with meaning. 

You sigh, but you’re smiling. “Yeah. I’ll answer.”

“Good.” You can hear his smile mirrored through the phone. “Sell your Greyhound ticket to Fak.”

“Bitch, fuck no—” “We can go aroun’ the city tommorow! We’re closed! C’mon have some fuckin’ fun before you start working in hell!” “We’re gonna be stupid New York tourists?” “Eva wanted me to get her face on some m and m’s—” “You want me to come with you to the fucking Time Square M and M store?”

That’s when Carmen shoots up, shoulder against yours, panickedly muttering into the phone, “We cannot go to Time Square a week out from Christmas.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. When you realize why there’s a pause, you shut your eyes tight, knowing exactly what you’re gonna get. Carmen realizes after watching your face scrunch up, he puts his face in his hands, “Shit—”

“You’re fucking Carmen!”

“No—” “You said you’re in bed! His bed?!” “We’re watching Ratatouille—” “Without me? You’re coming to the fucking M and M store— Also that big ass toy store—” “This is not a betrayal—” “Matter of fact, we’re gonna go see that big fuckin’ tree, too—” “You just want me to drive us home because you’re gonna be too hungover.”

“No, I want you to drive us home because I love you.” Richie’s slurring when he says it, like it’s some sort of gotcha. “So fuck you, actually.”

Carmen bites back laughter next to you, you just shake your head, tutting. “I love you, too, Cousin.”

“If you loved me you’d come play pool.” “I don’t fuckin’ know how to play pool!” “We’ll fuckin’ learn you somethin’ then!” “Fuck off! I’m already coming to fucking Time Square with you, don’t be whiny.” 

“You’ll come?”

You massage your brow bone, “Syd’s not gonna wanna sit next to Fak on the bus, you got room for four?”

“Yeah, but someone’s gonna have to sit on the console.” “I nominate Carmen.” “I second the nom.”

Carmen, now with two votes to sit on the console up front, presses his face into your shoulder. “What the fuck—” You peer down at him and whisper, “We’ll do shifts, don’t worry.”

“Put me on speaker phone.” “You’re talking so loud that Carmen can very clearly hear you.”

“Put me! On speaker phone!”

You put Richie on speaker phone. Carmen clears his throat, gruff, “Yo, Rich, can we finish the fuckin’ movie?”

“Patience is a virtue, or some shit. D’you see the resos?”

You mouth to Carmen, ‘Reservations?’ Carmen nods. “Yeah, I saw.”

“Gonna be fucked.” You frown when you hear that, but don’t want to interrupt. You silently word, ‘What happened?’ Carmen puts a finger over his mouth, he’ll explain in a second. 

“Gonna be fucked, yeah.” Carmen sniffs, swiping at his nose. “Good kind, though.”

“Yeah. Good kind.” There’s a sigh from Richie on the other end, that heavy sigh. Practically sobering up with just one sentence. “Christmas is in a week.”

“I know.” Carmen kisses his teeth. This is going to be the worst, for all of you. The missing link is going to be all too apparent.  “Good time to be busy.” 

“Good time to be busy.” Richie echoes. “Only way out is through.”

“Heard.” Carmen nods, what else is there to say? “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Aright. Don’t fuck in a fuckin’ Holiday Inn Chip’s worth mo—” 

That’s when you interrupt, “Alright, what a wonderful phone call this has been goodbye, fuck you, love you, don’t call again, be safe!” You hang up before Richie can reply, head flopping over.

There’s a long silence before Carmen speaks again. “...I’m not tryna do that by the way—”

“No, I know, I’m worth more than a Holiday Inn.”

Snorts of laughter fill the stale air of this shitty little Holiday Inn one bed. Carmen pulls you back into him, arm on your waist. Before you can start the movie again, though, you have to ask. “Reservations fucked?”

He hums, tucking your hair back so he can see the side of your face better. “We started taking reservations last week— Just to test it out. N’ it was goin’ smooth but ‘tuh…” He squints. “Trending today with the whole uh— Chef thing. We’re kinda booked full ‘til the end of the year. And January.”

“Oh shit.” Word on the street is true. Any advertising is good advertising. Even when promoting the wrong fucking website. 

“Yeah, good kinda fucked, but like. Fucked.” Carmy nods, and after a second, grabs your hand. “But Christmas— Christmas Eve ‘n Christmas is off— And New Years— So, so you won’t be overwhelmed, hopefully.”

Your brain is already shooting miles ahead, you’re mentally back in Chicago, already. “We really gotta get on that cocktail menu.” There’s so much to do. New job, new menu, Christmas—

“And coffee.” Carmen sounds calm when he says it, which is deeply unlike him.

“And coffee.” You echo, eyes distant. You shoot back up. “Fuck, road trip is gonna be such a time sink. Okay— Well, okay— We’ll just— I’ll make a list tonight—”

 You’ve gotta figure out your hours. You don’t want to lose Chicago’s Kindest completely— Can’t be available 24/7 anymore, though. Mattina Tony’s gonna hate that. But he’ll be happy for you. Gotta tell Eden’s Club you’re not going to pick up shifts anymore. They’ll say they’re happy about it, but curse you behind your back. That’s fine. 

“List for what?”

“Christmas shopping.” Your eyes flick to him, still thinking. “I win Christmas every year.”

You’re getting Richie new cufflinks— But what of? Can’t just do initials, that’s lame. Fuck, what do you get Carmen? Can’t just do something cooking related— That’s lamer. But it’s also like— His only hobby.

“Don’t think that’s how Christmas works.”

“It fully is. And being in Time Square is gonna widen the fuck out of my search radius. Fuck what do I do for Syd? Fancy knife? They sell fancy knives here?”

Carmen shrugs, “I know a guy in the area.”

“Fantastic. I’ll get a list, you’ll help me out with stores. We’ll get coloured pencils at FAO, we’ll draft up a rough menu on the way home—” “Hey—” “It’s twelve hours of driving, so I think we can get a good chunk done. And then test out and finish on Monday—” “Baby—” “I was thinking we could do a section of house cocktails and coffees named after Chefs—” “I said don’t work on it—” “So like, each one would be themed after what I think of when I think of you—” 

Carmen grabs your face with both hands. “Tony.”

“Carmy.”

“Cannot believe I’m saying this to another person, but loosen your grip.” He strokes your cheekbones with his thumb. It’s nice. “You don’t have to do it all.”

It's a long silence of just staring back at him, so much so Carmy’s worried he has failed at this whole self-help thing. But then, you say, “Sara’s a good fucking therapist.”

“She’s got a pretty flexible schedule, too.”

Your face is still in his hands, you’re basically unblinking. “I think you’re a pink pepper aperol spritz with a slice of grapefruit. Maybe like a cherry syrup rim? Or is that too much? That might be too much.”

Carmen sighs in a way that sounds like a laugh. “How many drinks have you made in your head?”

“Just that one. But I think Richie would be something with whiskey and peaches— And somethin’ about Syd makes me think about figs, I don’t know why, which would go good with—”

Carm pinches your cheek, frowning, though there’s an admiration to it. “I said don’t work on it.” 

You push his hands away, “I haven’t written anything down! I can’t stop my brain from thinking! How many fuckin’ plates do you have in your head?”

He thinks, tilting his head back and forth. “A couple.” It’s a lot more than a couple. “They’re all bad, though.” 

“Bad, how?” 

“Bad, like weird.” Carmen gestures to the dimming screen of his laptop. You shake the touchpad awake. Rat chef is inspiring, and a good reminder of what he's meant to do, as are you. “It’s uh, it’s a good movie. It’s good to make new shit. But like, I need to be controlled.”

You tilt your head, “I don’t think so.”

“No?” Despite the fact that you’re disagreeing with him, there’s a happy hum, in Carmen’s voice.

“No. I think we should make really bad weird shit. At least in like, R and D.” You lean back down, against him. “Gotta try it before you brush off the idea. That’s the fun thing about art, y’know? Might work, might not.”

“I think that’s life.”

“Life is art, art is life, food is both.” 

“Woah.” “That was kind of a bar, wasn’t it!?” “Kinda tough.” “What’s your bad weird idea?”

“Steak with pop rocks.”

“Oh my god.” Your eyes go wide, but with a smile. Shocked but delighted. It's absolutely going in Carmen's top five favourite expressions of yours. You lean into him further, back of your hand slapping his chest. 

“I know, but I was thinking the sugar would be good—”

“Like a sort of maple or sugar curing thing?” God, you just get it. And you give a shit about getting it.

“Exactly, n’ then it makes you like— Like salivate.” “I don’t think it’s that crazy an idea.”

He’s so excited to have someone encourage his ideas, for once. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod assuredly. “We should do it. Try it, at least.”

“Okay. Cool.” Carmen tries and fails to not light up at the prospect of ‘we’. “You’ve still got a hard out at twelve?”

“Syd said she will be knocking violently if I’m not back at midnight on the dot, yeah.” You unpause the movie. “And she’s gonna be pissed when I tell her I’ve volunteered us for a tourist spree, so I gotta be on her good side.”

Carmen shrugs, turning his attention back to the movie, arm around your shoulder. “It’ll be fun, if you’re there.”

It gives you both away.

Every sentence gives you both away. The way you speak, the way you act, the way you pose. It gives you both away. The way he moves your hair out of your face so you can see the movie clearly. The way you lift your head so he can tuck his arm under the pillow, so it doesn’t go numb under you. All without asking. The way you see each other, the way you are constantly doting and thinking of the next thing you can make the other—All without checking in. The Berf shirt you wear for pajamas, your refilled toiletries in his hotel shower. The domesticity comes all too easy to both of you. It gives you both away.

“Remy kinda sounds like Carmy, y’know—” “Don’t.” “My petit chef!”

You say I love you in every way but the way that makes it weird and bad and stupid and too soon. 

“Good God.” Is the first thing Sydney says, when you return to your shared hotel room. Face and voice filled with disgust, that is really only half sarcastic. “You’re beyond saving.”

You push past her, bumping shoulders as you do, smiling all the while. It’s nice that she can see you again. Even if she’s seeing that you’re down bad. “I didn’t even say anything—”

“Yeah, no, it’s that face on your face— God, it’s over—” “Baby, just say you’re happy for me.”

“I—” Syd blinks, rapid, hands in the air. “I’m happy for you— Tentatively.” Pending Carmen. Probationary forgiveness. 

“Thank you. I’ll take it.” You squat down to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge, when you do, you’re able to give Syd a once over.

She’s adorned in an old jazz club shirt from your highschool, boxers, and a long bonnet so old you recognize it. You recognize all of it. It’s nearly enough to make you cry. 

Funny, she’s thinking the same thing. Together, you speak. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“Jinx!”

“Double jinx!”

“Triple Jinx!” It’s on the third one that you decide to let her win and not say it a fourth time. 

It’s on the fourth one that Syd decides she doesn’t want to win. “Quadr— Man, this sucks.”

You know exactly what she means. You fall out of your squat, sitting on your butt with a frown. “It literally would’ve just taken one phone call.” You could’ve been doing this for years.

She sits down next to you, back against the front of the bed. “There were a lot of moments, where I thought to call you, honestly.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like uhm—” Syd’s face scrunches up her face, she’s already opened her mouth so she has to tell you, but she���s realizing she probably shouldn’t tell you. “There was this fucked day at The Beef, where we set up online orders, and I forgot to tick off pre-order—”

You unscrew the bottle cap, squinting. “I feel like that should automatically be off.” 

“That’s what I’m fucking saying!” She slaps your knee with the back of her hand, “But uh, no it was fucking on— And we got like— Like fucked— Said that already. Hundreds of orders. And it was so much and and— Richie was, at the time, kind of a dick—” 

“You don’t have to mince, I know what he was.” You take a sip of water, nodding. He’s a work in progress, as are you all.

“He was being a bitch and— And— I might’ve maybe lowkey stabbed him.”

“Holy fuck?!” You have to laugh, out of sheer shock. You choke on your water. “Syd?!”

“It— Swear to God—” Syd raises one hand, and puts the other over her heart. “Was an accident. Like— Like I was saying I would, and also I was like—  Thinking about it— But I didn’t mean to actually do it— Like he walked into it—”

“Jesus Christ, Manslaughter Sydney—!” “No! …A little. On occasion.”

“You ever wanna stab Carmy?” “Oh, all the fucking time.”

“Fair.” You hand her your water bottle when you spot her looking at it. You see each other, you take care of each other, without being asked. 

“And after a brutal stabbing—” “It was barely a graze, to his ass.” “—You thought to call me?”

“Yeah. You’re like. I dunno. I—” She sighs, taking a beat. “I’ve heard people talk about like— When they’re in a life or death scenario, or panicking, their first thought is like ‘I gotta call my mom’.” Syd clutches onto the water bottle like it’s a life preserver. “But I like— Like I don’t have that instinct, duh, dead mom club— But like, like my instinct when I’m scared is to call you.”

“You should’ve.” You want to take her hand, but don’t. Still working on that hesitation. You’ll both get there.

“You should’ve, too.” Syd lightly punches your knee. She tucks her lips in a line, thinking. “I would’ve been there.”

“I think I kinda got stuck in the same thought Mikey had, with Carmen.” You prop your knee up, hugging it to you. “Didn’t wanna drag you down with me. Didn’t want you to know I— That I’m not really uhm— That I’m not all that great.”

“I didn’t ask you to be great.” Syd says it before she thinks it, and it’s enough to make your eyes water. In a good way. She continues. “I didn’t ask you to be my somme, either. I always thought you were cool. I would always think you’re cool.”

“I…” You clear your throat, controlling your micro-expressions poorly. “I— I know. I think I just… Always do too much? Like I do everything to make myself like— Needed.”

If they need you, they can’t leave you. Though, that didn’t really stop you two from growing apart, so there goes that theory. 

“You are needed.” Syd nearly rolls her eyes at you, but realizes that might be insensitive.

Syd could’ve called Terry, when the walk-in door broke. She called you. Syd could’ve called Claire— They’re not all that close, but she could’ve, when Nat went into labour. She called you. Syd could’ve called Fak, when Carmen’s oven broke. She called you. It’s insane that you’d ever think you weren’t her lifeline. 

But she clarifies anyway, “Not that— Not that you need to be needed though, for me to want you around.”

You snatch the water bottle from her. “Well, I know that now.”

“Good.”

You all but chug the water, God you’re dehydrated. Syd laughs, “It’s not gonna fucking run away from you.”

“We don’t know that for sure.” You grin, screwing the cap back on. Sniffing, you sober up a little. “We’re never not gonna be friends again.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Lest you go full on He Had it Comin’ on your fuckin’ co-workers again.”

She scoffs. “I promise to try to not stab someone in your presence.” 

“Deal.” You both laugh. You put your hand out to her, and without confirmation, do a handshake that must be more than a decade old. Dap, up-down, jellyfish out. Though, for your purposes, squid out. 

Incredible, you’ve hit Syd with love and nostalgia, she has to say yes now. “We’re roadtripping with Richie and Carmen instead of taking the Greyhound.”

“It’s so crazy that you think that’s gonna happen—” “It will be fun—” “Define fun for me, right now—” “We can get Christmas shopping done—”

“Fuck. Christmas is in a week.” “I know!” 

Syd scrunches up her nose. “What do I get my dad?”

“Sounds like you need to do some window shopping.” You could probably recommend something if you thought about it for two more seconds, but then you wouldn’t have an excuse to drag her along. “We could go to a Tiffany’s or something.”

“What and get him a locket?” “I’m honestly just naming stores, at this point.”

She’s thinking about it, really thinking about it. “...Could go to the MET, go through the gift shop. He’s a tchotchke guy.”

You hum, nodding. You can get her to fold. “Look at some expos, get some artistic inspiration?”

Syd’s eyes roll back, and she rolls her head back with them, head on the edge of the bed, in dismay. “...Are we doing gifts?” 

You shrug, “Was thinking I’d get you a little something.”

“So super over the top and extravagant?” “What’s the fun in telling?” “I hate you.” “So you’ll come?”

She sighs, husky. “Yeah…” She says it like she’s upset but you both know Syd is a little excited. 

You pump your fist, delighted. A win.

A comfortable silence fills the room. You flop your back down on the floor, laying on the carpet. “Thank you for helping Carmy.”

“Didn’t do much.” Syd shrugs, lazily turning her head on the bed to you. “He just needs pushing, sometimes.”

You hum, nodding. “Well, thank you for pushing.”

“You’re so welcome, dude.” You both laugh, and after another long gap of silence, she kicks you. “Stop lying on the dirty ass hotel floor, we paid for a bed.” 

“There’s something about laying on the floor, man.” You shake your head. “Get down here. I can see the scope of the universe from down here, actually.”

With a profoundly deep sigh, Syd rolls over to you. Your shoulders touch as you both stare at the ceiling. She hums, pointing to the popcorn tiles. “Oh yeah, secrets of the universe, right there.”

“I told you.” You nod, wisely. You frown. “...When do you think it’s like, too soon, to say ‘I love you’?”

“Oh my fucking God it’s that bad—” “Just answer!” “Definitely right now is too fucking soon!” “Well, yeah, I fuckin’ figured—!” “I’d say like, another month or two, minimum.”

“I think I might explode, by then, if I’m being honest.” You turn your head to her. “I’m really worried I’m gonna forget I haven’t already said it and I’m gonna say it at a stupid moment and it’s gonna be lame and embarrassing and bad.”

Syd turns her head to you. “Yeah, that’s probably what’s gonna happen.”

“Okay, so you’re no fuckin’ help.” You snort. 

“What do you want me to say? You love to the point of embarrassment.” She shrugs, smiling at your demise. But then Syd sobers up a little, turning her body to face you, leaning her head on her hand. “Are you sure, though?”

“I think so, yeah.” You cross your arms, nodding, assuring yourself, practically. “I feel what I think can only be described as emotionally violent— affectionately. And I think that’s what love is. Pretty sure.”

“Hm.” Syd watches you watch her. You’re absolutely getting lost in your own brain. She pokes the space between your eyebrows, you wake back up. “What’s in there?”

You blink, “Thinking of all the worst ways I could say it.” In front of everyone, accidentally while saying goodbye, off-handedly while hanging up, over text, and so on and so forth.

“Okay, that sounds awful and unproductive so let’s go to bed, huh?” Syd grunts, sitting up. She reaches for your hand to help you stand up with her. “Just try saying it normal.”

You take a breath, looking her in the eyes, say it normal. “Love you.”

“Yeah, just say it like that.”

“Oh, so I can say it—” “In two months.”

“Wait, is one more month hard off the table now—” “Now it’s three.” “Fuck, it’s gaining interest?!”

Just try to make it to next year without saying it, you’d take that happily. Just make it to Christmas. Okay, maybe just make it until you get back to Chicago…Maybe just take a vow of silence. 

You shake your head, coming back to reality.

“Wait, what the fuck, Syd, say it back!”

wooooo

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Next Part

[yunhohours]

Sleep Over?

✗ Pairing: date!renjun x fem!reader

✗ Word count: 3.7k

✗ Warnings: fluffy smut, renjun cannot stop kissing reader, 'baby' as a pet name, small bit of breast/nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), reader makes a decisive choice to have unprotected sex (do not recommend), creampie, these bitches are in love with each other oh my god

✗ A/N: this was inspired by a prompt request that appealed to me so much i had to make it a whole thing. the prompts requested will be in bold font. i tried to keep reader's prior romantic and sexual experience vague enough to suit everyone, considering the nature of the prompts.

It’s your sixth or seventh date with Renjun. You kind of stopped focusing on the number after the third because that’s all the books and movies seem to care about. Tonight, you decided to stay in and cook together for once. You usually go here or there, eating at new places or trying new activities together. It’s always a lot of fun… but tonight, you wanted to just be together.

And by be together, you don’t mean in bed together. At least, you don’t think so. It’s the six or seventh date and Renjun hasn’t even kissed you yet. At least, not really.

He’s kissed you on the cheek. He’s held your hand–always, actually. He’s hugged you and held you, but he has never kissed you on the lips. At first, you were worried that he didn’t want to–that he just didn’t like you all that much. 

But how can you believe that? He keeps asking you out on dates, keeps making it sound like seeing you again is the biggest joy in his life. He wants to see you as much as your schedules allow and when he’s with you, you have his full attention, his full heart. So you know it’s not that he doesn’t like you. You actually started to think it was sweet and, really, you still think that, but you’d really like him to kiss you. You want to get it out of the way so you can kiss him again and again–whenever you want.

You’re in Renjun’s kitchen, washing pasta sauce off your clean plates side by side. You’re both wearing brilliant smiles as you talk and giggle and threaten to splash each other with water. He did splash you–just a little bit–when you were cleaning the pots and the utensils, but after one adorable warning look from you, he retreated. Not that you’d have minded if he didn’t. You’re starting to think there’s nothing he could do that would make you look at him with anything but adoring eyes.

Renjun reaches to turn off the water and you reach for your keys on the counter. He frowns.

“Hey…” His voice is soft as he takes your hand, pulling you towards him gently. He releases your hand only to wrap his arm around you instead, holding you at your lower back, his eyes glittering as he looks into yours. “Sleep over? Please?” 

You feel a swarm of butterflies come to life in your stomach. You hadn’t expected this. You were just hoping for a kiss, but now he’s offering you…

Well, you don’t really know what he’s asking. You can infer, but based on your previous experiences together, you doubt it.

“Sleep over? Do you mean…?”

Before you can finish asking, Renjun answers.

“We can just sleep. I just don’t want you to go home yet.” He cups your face in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I’m really happy when I’m with you.”

How many butterflies live in your stomach? You lean into his touch, blinking at him fondly like a woman in love. Maybe you are a woman in love. Your lips curl up slightly as you nod your head. You want to tell him you feel the same way. You want to tell him that you’d like to sleep next to him every single night. But you can’t manage all of that right now. Not when you feel so overwhelmed with emotion. “Okay.”

It’s a single word and not as much as he deserves, but the bright grin that takes up his face would have you believing otherwise. “Good,” he says, brushing his lips against your hair before placing a soft kiss to your forehead. His fingers ghost down your arm as he reaches for your hand once again. He guides you towards his bedroom as he speaks. “Let’s get you something you can wear to sleep.”

You almost think that he means you’ll be wearing his clothes, but that thought doesn’t have time to cement itself. When you pass through the door to his room, your eyes instantly spot something of yours folded neatly on his dresser. He walks you right to it, smiling sheepishly. He lets go of your hand to present the clothing item to you and you laugh. It’s your old, reliable, oversized t-shirt.

“I know I’ve been telling you since our second date that I would wash and give this back to you… and I know I have been telling you that I forgot it every time since.” He pauses, cocking his head slightly as a coy expression takes over his face. “I just wanted an excuse to see you again. If I needed one.”

You feel almost dizzy at his words. Is this what it feels like to be lovesick? Every time he opens his mouth, you feel love trying to break its way out of your body–trying to grow past the confines.

You wore this t-shirt when you went to the beach on your second date. You just needed something to cover your swimsuit until it was time to be in it. But when you and Renjun were playing on the beach–chasing each other after he teased you or you teased him–you ran into the water without thinking. You were just trying to escape his playful wrath. You weren’t thinking about the fact that you still had your shirt on–not that you would have cared about getting it wet in the first place. You laughed and looked down at your soaked through t-shirt when you realized. By the time you looked up again, Renun was in the water too, eyes looking almost apologetic. You told him a million times that you didn’t care at all about your shirt getting wet, but he kept insisting on walking to a nearby hut and buying you a new one. He didn’t want you to be cold on the ride home, he’d said. You forgot your original shirt in his car.

“Well, I guess this is as good a time as any for me to get it back.” You smile, playfully nudging his arm with your elbow before taking the shirt from him. You look towards his bedroom door, attempting to look past it for a bathroom to change in.

“Right next door,” he says, answering your silent question.

You look back at him–in awe of him. He anticipates your every need. You nod and reach up to kiss his cheek, lingering there for a moment. You pull away, heading to the bathroom next door, your heart beating at double speed. 

Renjun’s bathroom is clean, beautiful. It’s exactly what you’d expect from a clean, beautiful person. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you admire it. A small plant that he has had to learn how to keep alive. A candle that you can only assume he lights when he has a bath. Plush towels that tempt you to take that bath before bed. You shake your head once in an effort to refocus yourself, carefully stepping out of your clothes and into your shirt. You realize that you don’t have any shorts to wear with it, but he’s seen you in swimwear already. Your panties are much the same. Surely, he’s thought this too.

When you enter Renjun’s bedroom again, it’s darker. The overhead lights are off, leaving the room dimly lit by a single lamp on his bedside table. You can see him sitting against his headboard, legs under his sheets. His comforter is folded at the end of his bed–he probably only uses it when the temperature calls for it. His eyes round out just slightly as he smiles at you. He looks grateful that you’re here.

You make your way to his bed and slip under the sheets. Unlike Renjun, you cover yourself up to your shoulders, laying down properly on your side and looking at him. You match his smile. He matches your position, sinking down to mirror your body. You stay just like this–smiling, holding each other’s gaze, feeling what it’s like to find home in another person–for a minute or two.

Renjun’s eyes slide down to your lips. You almost gulp. Is he finally going to kiss you? His hand cups your face–much like he did in the kitchen–but this time, his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, featherlight.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It makes me think you want to kiss me.” Your voice is a whisper.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He answers your question with a question, this thumb still grazing back and forth across your lip. His touch is so light that you wouldn’t know he was touching you at all if your lip wasn’t moving on its own accord.

Your cheeks heat up at the question. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s because you want to know what would make him ask that. What is it about you that makes him think there's enough of a chance that you haven’t kissed anyone, so he should ask? What does he want the answer to be? Maybe it’s because the question alone makes you feel even more sure that he is going to kiss you this time.

While you’re busy thinking instead of answering, Renjun has either come to his own conclusion in his mind or decided that he doesn’t care after all, because he leans in, his eyes on your lips. The moment is finally here. You tense, bracing for what you’ve been craving.

Renjun notices your tension, mistaking it for nervousness. “Don’t be afraid. It’s me.” He whispers the words, his lips brushing against yours softly as he speaks.

His lips connect with yours, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your body relax with the kiss. Maybe you were nervous. You’ve never cared about someone this much, after all. He lets his lips pop free of yours after just one gentle peck of your lips, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s testing how you feel, what you want. You angle your face just slightly, playfully bumping his nose with yours as a signal that you’re just fine. He smiles and brushes his lips against yours before kissing you again.

This time, he doesn’t stop after the first kiss finishes. He follows it with another and another, each one stealing more of your breath. His lips are so soft and the connection between you can be felt physically, your body overwhelmed with passion. Your hand clutches the front of his shirt, tangling it in your fist as a way to disperse some of the tension in your body. His hand wraps around your fist, smiling against your lips.

He presses forward, directing you to lie on your back. He does it slowly and carefully enough that you could just ignore his body’s signals and stay as you are, but you oblige his request, welcoming his body on top of yours. He holds your face tenderly in one hand, holding himself up with the other, not wanting to overwhelm you too quickly. He lets his body melt on top of yours, his tongue asking for permission at the seam of your lips. You don’t hesitate to give it to him, parting your lips for him.

You’re both breathing heavily, the heat warming your faces. Renjun’s tongue is intentional in its exploration of your mouth, massaging your tongue in a sensual fashion that reflects the way he holds your face in his hand. Loving. 

Your hands are resting on either side of Renjun’s neck, holding lightly enough that if you put any less effort into your wrists, they would fall away. Renjun’s hands are on the move, gliding over your shoulders and down your arms. He takes your hands in his for a moment, threading his fingers through yours, squeezing affectionately. He turns your arms, letting his thumbs brush against your wrists. Through all of this, he never stops kissing you.

The kiss is more involved now, both of you angling your heads and chasing after each other’s lips like you’d die without them. Renjun licks into your mouth teasingly a few times, his hands gripping your hips where your shirt has bunched up and settled. You can’t help but moan softly at the flirtation. He grins against your lips before capturing them again, his fingers experimenting with the hem of your shirt. Your hands tighten their hold on his neck, moving closer to the back of his head, finding his hair. 

Renjun hums his approval against your lips, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, feeling the warmth of your stomach. Your stomach tenses under his touch, the anticipation triggering an influx of adrenaline. 

Misunderstanding, Renjun’s hands retreat.

“No–” You dispute, breathless.

Renjun pulls back enough to see your face clearly, his amorous eyes searching yours. His thumb hooks under them of your shirt, brushing against the skin there, checking. Making sure you don’t really mind. “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” He kisses the tip of your nose, surely reassuring you that he won’t be upset either way.

You nod, holding his eyes so he knows you mean it. “I want to be with you.”

That’s all Renjun needed to hear. He kisses you again–harder this time, but still precious. His hands fully move under your shirt, feeling the entire expanse of your abdomen. You sigh dreamily against his lips, he licks at yours playfully. He ventures off your mouth, kissing across your jaw, turning your head with his in the process. His hands reach your breasts, thumbs lightly brushing over the nipples. He savors the quiet moan you reward him with, cupping them. You moan again.

Your wrists are limply thrown over Renjun’s upper back as he kisses down your neck, focusing on the spot where it meets your shoulder. He sucks the skin into his mouth and you gasp at the sensation. If he keeps it up, he’ll be leaving a mark behind. You feel him hardening against your thigh as his hands massage your breasts, your pussy clenching at the prospect of feeling him inside you. I want to be as close to him as humanly possible, you think. 

Oh god, you’re hopelessly in love with him. There’s no question about it.

“Renjun…” You hesitate, timid. What if he doesn’t want the same thing?

“What is it, baby?” He asks, voice laced with affection. He kisses the same spot over and over, just pecks. He doesn’t want his mouth to get too involved when he might need to use more words.

“I want to feel you.” You manage the words. You feel shy, but he’s worth the effort. You swear you feel his cock twitch against your leg.

Renjun hums, pleased. He licks over the spot he’s been marking–once, twice, three times. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I want to feel you too.” He kisses back up to your lips, his hand skating down the softness of your belly towards your panties. His kiss is soft again, just like before. He keeps his tongue to himself, not wanting you to focus on anything but the feeling of him touching you, his hand reaching into your panties, fingers taking up residency in your folds.

He kisses the corner of your lips as you moan. You didn’t realize how much you wanted him. This first touch feels like you’ve been waiting your whole life for it. His middle finger tests your clit, pushing against it like a trigger-sensitive button, and you twitch, moaning louder than before.

“You’re already so sensitive.” You can hear the desire in his voice, his lips hovering by your jaw. He continues feeling you out, fingers gliding towards your entrance, finding much more arousal than he’d anticipated. “Fuck, y/n.”

A hint of embarrassment tinges your features. “I just… really want you.” You admit.

He groans with his own want, placing comforting kisses across your jaw as he makes his way back to your lips. “How did I get so lucky?” You kiss him before he can kiss you and he moans this time.

Not one to rush things or risk you being uncomfortable, Renjun’s fingers probe at your entrance. He guides one of his fingers inside you, both of you hissing at the feeling. Realizing that you’re plenty aroused enough, Renjun adds a second finger, working them gently inside you. You whine–wanting to keep feeling him like this, wanting to feel him more.

“I know, baby. Me too.”

Renjun thrusts his fingers a few more times before pulling them out. He sits back on his feet, pulling his shirt over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but it’s different right now. You salivate, appreciating your view as he hooks his fingers into the sides of your panties, peeling them down and off your legs before hovering over you again. 

“Should I get a condom?” He asks, his eyes level with yours. 

You take a moment to think before answering. “No.”

He raises his brow, asking silent questions. Does that mean you want me to stop? Do you want me to keep going without one?

“I want to feel you.” You repeat the words from earlier.

Renjun’s face looks pained at the words. The good kind of pain. The kind that comes with a groan of lust, love. He kisses you, using one hand to push his boxers down until they’re out of the way. He sighs with relief, the exhale causing your lips to separate. You stay in place, breathing against each other’s mouths as Renjun guides the tip of his cock through your slick. You can tell from the way his hips jerk at the feeling that he’s just as worked up as you are, if the sheer hardness of his cock wasn’t enough of a tell. You finger the hair at the back of his head, soothing him.

Renjun pulls back like he did before–just until he can see your face clearly. He watches your expression as he pushes himself into you, watching for any sign of discomfort even as he groans from pleasure. Fortunately, all he sees is the way your brows raise at the front and your jaw lowers, the prettiest moan he’s ever heard tumbling out of your kiss-swollen lips.

Taking this as a sign to give you more, Renjun starts to pump himself inside you. He’s slow, but not too slow. Just slow enough to make it feel like his tongue feels when it’s in your mouth–the delicious drag of his cock along your walls. You can feel every movement individually instead of it becoming one big, blurred assault. You moan in sync with each other, the feeling of being one the strongest aphrodisiac.

You find yourself grasping as Renjun fucks into you–for his shoulder, his back, his hair. Anything. It’s not that he’s fucking you so hard you need to hold onto something. It’s that everything feels so overwhelmingly good being with him that you need something to ground you. To remind you that this is real and possible and yours.

You like that Renjun doesn’t inhibit himself with you. He lets his own sounds of pleasure come freely, escalating as the pleasure does. You’re comfortable with each other–both pairs of hips coming together in an effort for maximum closeness. You pant and moan and shiver together, experiencing the same kind of romantic bliss as each other. One of Renjun’s hands takes yours from the back of his hair, linking his fingers through yours–holding.

Your other arm wraps around Renjun’s neck, pulling him down, wanting him closer. His head falls into the crook of your neck and you’re grateful, his beautiful moans now landing directly on your ears. He sounds so pretty–you want to tell him that later. Renjun’s free hand snakes under your back, pulling you up against him as you hold him down against you. He’s thrusting into you without more urgency now–the difference felt more noticeably through speed rather than intensity. The uptake of pace makes your lashes flutter, your orgasm nearing. You can tell from the way Renjun sounds that he’s close, too.

You squeeze Renjun’s hand with yours and you squeeze his cock with your pussy. He groans. You can almost hear him thinking I know, baby. Me too. You hold onto his neck for dear life as he continues ramping up the pace, making your head feel dizzy on his pillow. Your moans slur into one long one, Renjun’s mixing with grunts. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body vibrating in Renjun’s hold. You hear his erotic vocals stutter at the feeling of you tightening around him, creaming him. Oh my god, you hear.

Renjun comes right after, his own white coating your insides. The warmth of it is as comforting as Renjun himself. Renjun’s hips still as his orgasm diffuses, keeping himself fully sheathed inside your perfect body. He exhales heavy breaths against your shoulder before lifting his head. It feels like it weighs a ton right now, but he wants to see you. You make eye contact, wordlessly staring into each other’s eyes–maybe, even, each other’s souls–for a few long moments.

“Y/n?”

You swallow thickly, tongue licking your lips as you try to come back to your body. “Hmm?”

Renjun takes your face in his hand, looking down at you with shining eyes. He kisses your nose with his nose. “I think I might be in love with you.” He sounds vulnerable, but more importantly: he sounds certain, despite his phrasing.

Your eyes scan his face–every perfect feature. You feel the need to memorize them at this very moment, as if you’d never get another chance to see them. Funny, considering you intend on seeing them as much as you possibly can for the rest of your life. 

The silence lingers on too long. Renjun is patient, like always. 

“I think I’m in love with you, too.”

Renjun grins through his exhausted state. He wraps both arms under your back, squeezing tightly around your waist. He hugs you to himself, making you laugh as he rolls over until you’re laying comfortably on top of him. You’re still connected at the crotch.

“I think that’s the best thing anyone has ever said to me,” he says, finally releasing his tight squeeze. He keeps his arms around you, one hand tracing lines up and down your back with his fingertips. That’s the best thing I’ve ever said, you think to yourself, closing your eyes to enjoy this moment.

[k0yaz]

hi there ! i’ve never requested anyone before but i saw that you like taking wlw requests so i caved 😭

as a hi3 player my raiden mei obsession has extended to acheron, and i’d love to see some general dating hcs. maybe what her preferences are (even sexual preferences huhuhrheheheh), how she shows love and affection, or whatever you feel like adding!

i have a severe acheron addiction so if you suddenly get an influx of acheron asks it’s probably me 😇

acheron general dating hcs

Pairings: acheron x fem!reader

CW: sfw and nsfw, female reader, afab reader, nsfw below the second cut, one hc is angst, strap on mention, cunnilingus, face sitting, praise kink, slight mention of degradation, bondage, romantic sex, fingering, biting, slicey slicey white hair acheron yay (both in a kinky way and in a scary way), um I love tea :3

A/N: GIRL ME TOOO IM SO OBSESSED WITH ACHERON ITS ACTUALLY WILD SHES ACTUALLY MY FAV HSR CHARACTER I LOEV THIS WOMAN SM ALSO PLEASE REQUEST ACHERON I AM ENCOURAGING THIS SO HARD REQUEST A ONESHOT IF YOU CAN IM GONNA EAT THE WALL anyway sorry for that I just love acheron a little too much <3 🕯️

I’m just gonna be completely honest Acheron is such a sweetheart when you’re dating her.

She shows affection in the most random ways it’s genuinely adorable- like she’ll buy you a random piece of food from Penacony’s golden hour or something or hug you from behind while resting her chin on your shoulder with a soft hum.

Really enjoys it when you kiss her face all over, it makes her feel loved and special.

That being said I feel like she’d be a fan of the lipstick trend too.

I feel like she’d enjoy recording things on her phone instead of yours. Like whenever you guys take a selfie or record a memory, she always pulls her phone out before you can get yours. Probably cause she’ll remember them if they’re on her phone.

No worries she still forwards them to you <3

Acheron absolutely loves it when you sit in her lap or snake yourself under her arm while leaning against her side to cuddle. She’d always wrap her arm around you with a soft smile and pull you close against her.

Whenever you two are on dates, and she gets up to use the restroom, she frequently forgets where she’s going or loses her way to it. So often times, you usually tail her as a companion because she ends up doing a whole side quest lmao-

Not very talkative in your relationship, but shows her affection when she usually just stays calm and prefers to hold you in silence, leaning against your chest to remind herself that you’re here with her whenever she hears your hearbeat.

Completely random but she probably somehow accidentally caught a fish and brought it home to you. To which you just raised an eyebrow out of disappointment and confusion, but it’s ok because it’s Acheron and you love her. <3

She may not show it, but she gets really happy when you buy her peaches or something peach flavored, since it’s one of the few things she can taste :( [the way I started violently sobbing after writing this bullet]

One time when she accidentally showed you her slicey slicey form you ended up being a little terrified, and she feels awful for it. She tried so hard to make it up to you, literally bought you anything she wanted, showered you with kisses, took you out on a romantic date, almost everything.

Sometimes you have to tell Acheron to loosen her grip, since when you two sleep she hugs you WAY too tight. Like, this woman can accidentally kill someone out of affection.

she’s like a cat with a resting bitch face, but is really sweet tbh…or maybe I just love cats too much.

Smells like peaches and rainwater and you can’t change my mind, maybe a hint of cherry blossom perfume :)

Someone get her google maps I love her sm

nsfw below the cut.

Contrary to what everyone says—Acheron is NOT a top in my opinion. She’s a switch. A MASSIVE FUCKING SWITCH ‼️

Her strap game go crazy though trust

Nothing more this woman loves than digging her fingers into your thighs and parting them to eat you out like you were her last meal she would have in centuries. <3

I feel like she’d love face sitting, giving or receiving.

Screamer? Nah she groans and it sounds unbelievably hot. Like-?

A lot of people believe that she’s into degrading BUT I DONT THINK SO AHAHA I feel like she prefers praise, since she doesn’t like the idea of degrading you and making you seem like you’re less than her :(

Even if you’re into that, it takes a lot to convince her that you really want to and even then she’s super hesitant and barely even tries to degrade you. Probably switches back to praise midway since she can’t shit talk you at all. She’s too sweet for that.

Seriously into romantic sex over kinky sex, but isn’t afraid to throw in some crazy kinks every once in a while, bondage being one of her favorites.

Acheron would absolutely love it when you whisper how much you love her into her ear, and whine out how you don’t want her to leave. It makes her feel all warm and fuzzy as she reassures you she’s yours forever, and how you’re hers.

You whisper that stuff while she’s topping? Great, your legs aren’t gonna work tomorrow as she’s buried in your cunt and your moans are muffled by her lips smashed against yours. When she’s bottoming? Congrats, you made her even wetter as she’s trying to bite her lip to control the filthy groans from her throat and grinding down against your fingers or strap.

Biter. Like hold her as close as you can and she’ll bite down onto you HARD. Still licks the area in case it hurts though. Along with that, she loves it when you bite her back—she just thinks they look pretty.

I feel she’s ripped your clothing off on multiple occasions. Especially when she’s in her other form and wants to have sex with you. Afterwards or before, she apologizes and promises to buy you a brand new one.

Speaking of which she has DEFINITELY fucked you real good when she goes white hair and slicey slicey

She adores the idea of just towering over you with her hands planted beside your head, bonus points if she gets to hold your hands.

Her aftercare is immaculate mwah

Constantly checks up on you and showers you with praise and kisses wawawawawa while helping you clean up, and probably puts on a movie or something while cuddling up to you.

If you’re the one giving aftercare please hug her as tight as possible and reassure her she did good, just hold her hand with your fingers laced between hers as you promise against her skin that you’ll stay with her. Literally do it or else I’m going to eat your cupcakes omg

Falls asleep in your arms 3 out of 4 times everytime you guys have sex late at night.

I’m too gay for her it’s not even funny anymore atp

A/N: ONE, I KNEW I HAD TO WORK ON THIS AS SOON AS I SAW IT EVEN THOUGH ITS 2 AM AND I SHOULD BE ASLEEP. AND TWO, IF SOMEONE ASKS “well why is it so long 🥺🥺” BECAUSE I LOVE ACHERON SHUSH

anon I’m encouraging this behavior please request me more acheron and acheron oneshots I’m begging u I’m totally normal about her

[flowerfreya]

Repercussions

The next part in the office AU

Masterlist

Content: Readers ex boyfriend tries to win her back( does not go well ) and then she discovers she has a crush on all four of them *gasp*

Pairing : poly!141 x reader

If have any thing you want to see from this group of people, please let me know. Lowkey running out of ideas lol

Price, Soap, and Ghost stand in front of the room where you were just taken. “She’s just trying to get attention”, he shifts his gaze to Price, “You know what I mean?”, he raises his eyebrows in a know what I mean motion. 

Price is not amused ,“No, I don't know what you mean”.

“Maybe you need to take a walk”, Soap says. He tries to guide him to entrance but your ex is  a glutton for punishment. 

“No,she a bitch, she used me as a gold digger”,he spits out, waving his arms and yelling and honestly embarrassing himself. 

“Mate, you need gold in order for that to happen”, Simon is trying to move him away from the door but he is very persistent. 

“You take another step it will be your last in this building” 

He slowly turns around, “You can’t do that, there's a process”, he smirks, thinking that he’s won. 

“Oh I know the process, we have been doing the process”, he lists all the things that your ex-boyfriend has been doing or in this case, not doing. 

Price has always had a problem with your ex boyfriend, they hired him on a whim and they needed a body. They had hoped that he would have no call , no show and they could help him but alas , he very very sadly persisted. He started fucking up almost four months ago, showing up late leaving early , taking long lunches. Price had finally found his in. He’s been putting in the work with Kyle to fire him, that when he brought you in for an interview. 

Price knew that men like him , took out his frustration on the women in his life because that's just the man he is. So he put a pause on it, you didn’t deserve that. When he got that call from Simon that you had called asking for help he knew that it was a sign.

~ 

Your ex is still moaning and bitching about you, then he says something that makes you not care. 

“Oh shut the fuck up” , you yell at him and walking out the backroom. He’s shocked that you responded, you're usually very passive in this , thinking it’s easy to agree then to argue. He starts stuttering, not used to this from you. 

“Uh -u -u -u” , you mock him. You get close to him so tired of just taking it. You’re so done with him. 

“Nothing to say?” , you ask him. He looks around like one of your guys are going to help but he finds none. 

“Can you do me favor and just fucking go?” ,you're so pissed that you let yourself get to this level, this sad sad place, where knowing that you need better, that you deserve better but just staying. Settling. 

He tries to change tactics with you, “Baby, please you know that I’m sorry, I messed up please forgive me”, he gets tears in the corner of his eyes. 

You scoff, “You know you caused this , you decided to leave me here and be a jerk when I asked you to pick me up”, you pause and wait for him to respond and he has nothing to say. 

“We are done, over, never getting back together, wrap your brain around that”. 

He tries to say something else but John cuts him off and leads( pushes) him toward the exit. 

Once he’s out the door, you kind of deflate when you no longer see him. Kye places his hand on your shoulder, “Alright?”, you want to go home and curl into a ball and drink dessert wine still your stomach hurts. 

“Can I go home?”, you don’t make eye contact with him even though you know that he is trying to connect with you. You can’t do life today and being with all of them today is going to be too much. You are single for the first time in a very long time and you have a crush on your boss ... .and coworker ... .and your other coworker… and your HR rep. How do you go from hating your only romantic partner to having a crush on four people? 

[azrielslightintheshadows]

I fell for you. (Final part).

Azriel x f!Reader

Summary; based on this request.

Warnings; angst

Masterlist.

Part one , Part two

Azriel was the winner of the two polls; poll 1 , poll 2 So here it is!

One day as you were sitting on a bench with Lady Autumn enjoying the view of the garden she said;

“You know… I would love if you and Eris ended up together, you’re so sweet and kind, my son would be lucky to have you.” She smiled and you almost choked on air. You and Eris… you had thought about that, but you weren’t sure if he had this type of feelings towards you. Lust wasn’t enough for someone to get married. And what would happen if Azriel found out?

One month later.

Your days were the same making you feel way too bored, Lady Autumn was nice company but after a while you didn’t have anything to talk about. Eris was spending most of his time in his office and barely came out for dinner. You went for walks with Lucien a few times, but always excused yourself when Elain joined you.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

After breakfast you decided to walk around the palace, maybe you could find something interesting to spend your time. As you were walking down a big corridor Elain approached you. You turned the other way and pretended that you were looking at the paintings.

“I know you’re avoiding me y/n. Please I need to speak to you.” She exclaimed and grabbed your arm. You shot her a warning look and she shook her head. “Please” “Okay… speak.” You shrugged.

“Listen… Azriel..” you scoffed and she lifted one finger to shush you. “Azriel helped me adjust in this world, we spent way too much time together and this created some feelings. It wasn’t love though at least not in a romantic way. We cared for each other because everything we went through together bonded us. We were both alone, and we had needs, this is what it was, lust. Azriel couldn’t understand his feelings for you, he couldn’t see the way his face lit when he talked about you. He thought he loved you as a friend. Your absence destroyed him. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep… he completely broke down. I tried to approach him as a friend, but he didn’t want to see me again, he hurt himself as a punishment for not understanding the type of feelings he had for you. What I’m trying to say is that he was always in love with you, he just didn’t know.” Her voice was soft yet steady as she spoke, a sign she was telling the truth. “Okay” you shrugged not wanting to show any emotion. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Follow me” she said and hurried off, your curiosity took the best of you, and you quickly followed her. She entered her room and opened her closet, taking out something from the back.

“The night before you left, I saw a dream… a vision, and I asked Feyre to go through my mind and paint what I saw. When I came here, I took it with me because I didn’t want Azriel to see it. I’m afraid that if I show anyone their future, I might somehow destroy it.” She explained and dropped the sheet that covered the painting. Your jaw dropped.

It was a painting of you standing next to Azriel, it was probably Starfall because at the background the sky was bright with starlight and dust. What shocked you the most was the young boy Azriel held between you. The boy looked around three years old, his hazel eyes wide, his small wings wide behind him and his cheeks painted with stardust. He looked so much like Azriel, but you could see a little bit of you in there too.

“If you’re afraid of destroying the future when you show it to someone, why did you show me?” You asked after the initial shock.

“Because I can’t see it anymore… because I only see Azriel alone in a room… dying” her eyes watered. You took a sharp breath and stared at her. “It is my duty to inform you about this, Rhysand is coming here today to have a meeting with Eris... Cassian and Azriel will probably accompany him. I wanted you to have all the facts before facing him”.

“I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. I would like to blame the stupid bond, but it will only sound as an excuse. You are so nice Elain, never change that.” You hugged her and she smiled. “No I get it, I’m sorry for causing all this trouble, I should have stayed away from Azriel.” She lowered her gaze.

“You went through enough, you deserved to have something you for once desired. Don’t feel guilty” you smiled and winked before leaving her room.

You hurried into Eris’ office not bothering to knock. “What is it little fox?” he murmured not lifting his head from the papers he was reading. “Rhysand is visiting today.” You spoke.

“I’m aware” Eris replied.

“Is Azriel coming too?” you asked and finally got his attention. He glanced at you.

“Missing him?” he quirked a brow.

“I would like to have a talk with him” you replied, and he hummed.

“Why are you here?” he asked and you sent him a questioning look. “Do you want to know if he is coming or if I will stop you from going back to him?”

You blushed.

“I won’t stop you. He is your mate… you are meant to be together.” He sighed and nodded “he is coming just please let me know if I need to request another healer from Helion”.

“I don’t know yet… I just want to talk to him.” You shrugged.

“Okay, better change clothes. I don’t want the shadowsinger to destroy my whole palace when he sees you in my court’s colors”.

You snorted at that and then approached him, taking one of his hands in your own. “Thank you Eris… for everything”.

“You’re welcome little fox, I’m here if you ever need to piss shadow boy off.” He smirked and returned to the papers.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 🍁 🍂 ☁️˙✧˖°

You changed into a black long dress that showed just enough cleavage and hugged your curves in all the right spots. You wanted to make Azriel drool and also honor your previous High Lord. You took a deep breath and walked down the hall reaching the big doors of Eris’ office. You could feel Rhysand’s power flowing around the palace making everything look darker. You let the bond resurface and Azriel pulled it instantly, making your heart break. He was still waiting for you. You opened the door and entered. Everyone’s head snapped into your direction and their jaws dropped.

“Y/n” Azriel whispered.

The rumors were right, the shadowsinger was thinner, his eyes were red and empty. He looked like he hadn’t slept for a year, and you could tell that he was just the same on the inside.

“Hello” you smiled, and your eyes fell on Rhysand. He stood up and hugged you.

“We missed you sweetheart” he whispered into your hair. “I missed you too, so much” you murmured.

Cassian approached when Rhysand let go of you and picked you up.

“You look good little one” he boomed, you hadn’t heard this nickname for awhile and it made you tear up.

When Cassian let go of you, Azriel took a deep breath and came closer.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and you glanced at Eris who nodded with a smile.

You walked out, Azriel following you without a word. You both entered your room and he shut the door.

“How are you?” he asked and kept his eyes on the floor.

“Fine. How about you?”

He shrugged and pushed a hand through his hair.

“I messed up.” He stated.

“I know” you replied and suppressed the need to hug him.

“I love you Y/n, I love you so much that I can’t breathe. I’m such an idiot for not realizing it before the bond snapped. I always thought that I loved you as a friend, that I needed to protect you because you were a part of my family. I thought that it was the loneliness that made me feel lust for you and made me dream of starting a family with you. I didn’t dare to tell you, I was so afraid that I would ruin our friendship. I don’t even know how to explain everything. I can’t explain what I feel for you… what I felt for you before the bond. You have every right to kick me out and never speak to me again, I will respect it even though the thought is killing me. But please believe me when I say that I have always loved you, you are the greatest thing that has happened to me, and I will spend the rest of my life punishing myself for losing you.” He was crying, sobs shaking his body as he waited for your response. You could feel everything down the bond, and you were sure that he wasn’t lying.

“I don’t know what to say Az. I’m willing to come back to the night court and give you a chance but I can’t promise anything. If you mess it up, I will leave you for good.” You said and cupped his jaw, wiping the tears away with your thumb. He leaned into your touch and sighed. “I promise I won’t let you down.” He whispered and you felt the burn of a tattoo on your neck.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next day you left for the night court, you didn’t miss the nod Elain gave you, her eyes moving to the covered painting in her arms. You smiled as you remembered the little boy and leaned further into Azriel before he shot up to the sky.

Azriel kept his promise, he showed you how much he loved you every day, he treated you like his queen, and everything changed for the best. After a year you accepted the bond and later found out that when Nesta changed herself and Feyre making them able to give birth to Illyrian babies she changed you too. You remembered that day, when a shooting pain sent you on the ground. You had felt like your insides were rearranging themselves.

A few years later you gave birth to a sweet baby boy, he looked exactly like the painting as he grew up, the only difference were the shadows flowing around him and whispering in his ear just like his father's.

You watched as Azriel flew around with your son, throwing stardust on his cheeks and laughing. They landed next to you and Azriel wrapped one arm around your shoulders, holding Damien with the other, as you all watched the beautiful spectacle of Starfall and the small tattoo on your neck disappeared.

He didn’t let you down.

Requests are open but delayed!

@sagskylar01 , @kalulakunundrum , @amysangel , @i-love-morally-gray-characters

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Hey! I just wanted to rant/thirst to you about Freminet, so spoiler warning for some of his locked/upcoming voice lines bc I’m going absolutely insane over how he manages to flirt so submissively. Freminet may be truly sweet and innocent, but you can’t tell me that he isn’t purposefully advertising his subby nature. This guy automatically declines tasks from ppl other than his family, but offers himself up to “be of some use to you” in the first greeting 🤨. He straight up asks for orders with zero shame but it’s really the subtle things that are making me obsessed. I can’t really explain properly but it’s kind of like how a brat baits a dom into being more aggressive except he does it in a soft way?? He’s almost one of those mildly manipulative uwu boys going “I’m so shy 🥺👉👈 plz fuck me.”

Example A: Probably the best known example of this is one of his ascension lines where he goes “You didn't have to do this for me, you know. I'd obey you regardless.” Wtf bro, you can’t just say that?!? Being a bad liar doesn’t excuse you from not even trying to hide the horny. Please stop before I bend you over. I know some ppl interpret this as sad but imo it’s one of the most boldly sexual things to come out of his mouth.

Example B: Freminet mentions always having a home at the House of Hearth. And when you ask him to join your party he either says “At your command.” or eagerly asks us to take him (with us). But in the last option he replies with “Well, *fake ass sigh* I’ve got nowhere to go…” like he’s actively fantasizing about us making him come (along). I can just tell he’s smiling while saying this shit, he ain’t slick.

Example C: In an upcoming event the Traveler jokes about wanting to try on his helmet. Immediately the whore behavior jumps out and Freminet responds with “Well, if it’s an order…” Then there’s legit an option to say back “Yep, that’s an order”. Excuse me?!? Are you fucking kidding?!? I am actually gonna go feral rn. Like ofc Paimon interrupts saying “Hey, now’s not the time!” Paimon knows Freminet won’t get anything done once I slut him out like he’s obviously begging to be. “We don’t want to bother him now.” Bother him??? Bitch, he won’t be able to talk or walk once I’m done with him.

Anyways, that’s the end of my rant, but like wtf Genshin? Atp they might as well just let us give the kinky mf a contract and a collar

Bonus Points: The way Freminet will use his soft, raspy voice to randomly bust out a line more romantic than the actual poet characters in-game is crazy. Traveler just said goodnight like a normal person, wdym "May your dreams be as dazzling as the starry night above the ocean, and your dreamless nights be naught but filled with serene respite." Excuse me Prince Charming, how the hell am I supposed to go to bed without you in it now?

HKJFKSFSBDKDJSF

Anon please, I thoroughly enjoyed your analysis and now I cannot unhear these voice lines as anything except subby begging behavior 😵‍💫

Freminet has us all whipped with his pretty voice, short-shorts, and flirting. He knows exactly what he's doing and has no shame, it seems

[softrozene]

Comforting Female Reader Who Has Experienced an Assault

Anon asked: Hey honey, I was too shy to ask off of anon... But do you think you could do some HC’s for the boys helping a f!reader who was previously sexually assaulted? I am having a really tough time right now. ( I am handling it all and I have people helping me too) it’s just really weird for me to deal with I guess Thank you sweet Ro!

rdr2 masterlist

I’m sorry to hear that stuff like that is happening to you but if you ever need someone to talk to just to vent or for advice you are always welcome to talk to me since I have experienced past sexual assaults and harassments. It’s always a no-judgment zone when talking to me fyi. Just remember everyone processes it differently but you are not alone and hopefully the people helping you are a strong support system.

I love you anon and I hope these make you feel better.

 I chose almost all the males I usually write for because they would all kill/die for the ones they love. 

Originally published on February 11, 2020

*Speaking to everyone who reads this: These can be taken as platonic relationships or romantic. Just know I am not romanticizing the issue. There will be solid advice. There will be dumb advice. These are after all my headcanons for how I think they would treat the issue with a fem!reader (I think with a male!reader they would act just a little bit differently. This is a sensitive topic so please read the warnings and just remember you are all loved.

Warnings: Angst, PTSD, fluff, mentions of past sexual assault

Hosea Matthews-

He would hear this from you directly

  Would be shocked before he drops everything in order to listen to you

  If you don’t wanna talk about it he won’t push you but he will hint that it may make you feel better

  If it happened all in the past he would piece together some of your tendencies that relate to the assault, what you tend to avoid and whatnot, and basically, he’ll help you so nothing at the camp will trigger you

  If it happened more recently he will try and urge you to tell him who it is so he can sick the boys on them, without your knowledge of course

  He’ll just say “It’s been taken care of Sweetheart. No need to worry about it.”

   Hosea is the most caring one out of them all and will constantly check up on you, see how you are doing/feeling, will get you whatever you want whenever you want, and more importantly will always put others in their place if he feels they are getting on your nerves or are crossing boundaries

  If you do daily talks he’ll always ask if it’s okay to hug you or hold your hand because he wants you to know desperately how much you mean to him and the gang

  If he sees you heading down the wrong path, he will pick you up without a doubt. Orders you to take care of yourself and if you don’t listen to him, he will send Arthur and John the most awkward boys in the universe to go and talk you into doing the stuff he told you to do

  He’ll do about anything you want in order for you to feel better and get past this traumatic experience

  “We can’t change what happened to us. That’s all in the past. However, we can change how it affects us now. How we’ll go on in the future. Turn this into something to make you stronger.”

  Dutch Van Der Linde-

  Will deadass go on a rampage after learning you’ve been assaulted

  All you have to say is that you got hurt by someone- He doesn’t need any details unless you want to fill up the rage he already has

  He will hunt down whoever they are no matter where they are with most of the gang by his side, it doesn’t matter how long ago it was, he wants to see that bastard/bitch who did this to you in the ground

  “And they will surely be dealt with” literally will be his words- Anyway after they are dealt with will he only focus on you

  He’ll be careful with you and probably the most annoying thing he can and will do is, treat you like glass

  It doesn’t matter anymore if this was in the past or more recently, he will make sure someone he trusts is by your side and preferably a woman so probably Miss Grimshaw

  Eventually, he will realize that he is overdoing it but he will give you one of his speeches saying it’s only because he worries about you

  You just gotta be upfront with him, tell him what you need and what you do not need, and he will fix himself after apologizing

  Expect a lot more gifts from yours truly

  By a lot, I mean a lot

  He will make it rain jewelry for you if it means you know how much he cares

  Can’t say that about the money though

  If it still lingers over you he will without a doubt, try and help you through the process of at least accepting what happened well happened

  “Try and focus on the now and make yourself better for the future” Or something along those lines would be his advice

  Arthur Morgan-

  Is a saint no matter what he says

  You would have to tell him face-to-face and rather bluntly that you were assaulted. If you hint at it, he may take a moment before he realizes what you mean

  He won’t act fast but he will sit down with you and have a talk with you

  Of course, he wants to act, his blood would be boiling at the thought of someone even touching you without your consent but for your sake, he will take a breather and wait until you are done venting to him

  He would treat you the same

  He wouldn’t necessarily tread lightly on certain topics unless he sees that it makes you uncomfortable and omg if one of the boys dares to mess with you he will be on their ass in a hot second

  Basically, he may hover but he won’t realize it since he’s treating you the same way as always

  It’s up to you as well to decide the fate of who hurt you

  If you want them dead, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you want them beaten, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you want them threatened, he’ll go do it in a heartbeat

  If you don’t want anything done, he’ll just keep an eye on you and make sure you are faring well

  When he’s not at camp he’ll have Hosea, John, or one of the ladies keep an eye on you

  He makes sure that you know you can bother him for anything, he may be grumpy about it but he’ll do it just for you

  If you’re having nightmares or just can’t sleep you can sleep on his cot and he’ll stay with you until you do fall asleep

  If nothing works to make you feel better you bet your ass he’ll take you with him, on rides to town just to get you out and about

  His last resort is letting you see his journal- That’s how you know this boy genuinely cares about you because no one touches the journal

  “People are not so kind. But you are. What I’m tryin’ to say is don’t let that bastard/bitch put out your light. I care ‘bout ya.”

  Charles Smith-

  He would be the most understanding like Hosea

  Would make sure that you are in a safe space mentally before he allows you to vent

  Will reassure you that you are safe no matter what but he will want to get back at this person

  It usually goes against his code for killing but he cares about you and no one deserves to get hurt like that so he will take time out of his day (probably go gather Arthur) and go and kill this person

  Whether you wanted that or not he would have convinced you this person would probably have another person to prey on soon enough

  Speaking of, he will remind you that you are not a victim but a survivor

  He’ll be there for you all the way

  If you need some company he’s there for you even if you don’t want to talk

  Charles can and will be your rock if you need it

  He’ll help pick you up and depending on if it’s okay with you, tell a selective few what happened so they can also help you

  It may be cheesy but I can see Charles in this scenario making you say positive things about yourself in order to ward away the negative thoughts

  “Repeat after me. I am a strong woman. I am resilient. I am a tiger.”

  May or may not be making fun of Mr. Pearson at the last one in order to get you to laugh

  Either way, he’ll make sure you to feed you positive lines almost every day

  If you need to get out he’ll take you on nature rides and remind you out beautiful the world is despite how cruel the people are

  He won’t exactly hover but he will be constantly glancing your way at camp to make sure you are all good

  Tells you venting is actually good without needing to hear the advice

  I forgot to mention it in the others but, all these males will make sure you know self-defense. They give you tips and tricks with each weapon of their choice that way no one will mess with you again

  You can always rely on Charles to give you good advice though. Understands that sometimes you just need someone to rely on so you know you’re not alone

  “I know you. You are strong and beautiful. Don’t give anyone the power to doubt yourself. Only you have that power.”

  John Marston-

  Is fucking awkward when it comes to this kind of thing

  He will 100% see red as soon as you tell him and no matter what no one but Arthur, Dutch, and Hosea can stop him from going after the person who hurt you (and those three will join him tbh)

  He is not the best to talk to about this so he’s okay if you just need the company

  May take you to a saloon and get you a drink or two just to ease you, will not give you more

  Honestly, I see John as completely awkward and not knowing what to do for this situation. He’s at a loss and if the problem (the person) has been dealt with wouldn’t know how to help you

  He would go ask the girls how to cheer you up or make you feel better, go to Hosea would be a better option and would finally just ask you what you need and how so you don’t get stuck in your PTSD

  Though he may understand but not in the way that is relatable. He’ll understand the nightmares and such but he won’t understand if you fear that person because his situations have always been near death

  He will desperately try to understand you though

  Will send Jack your way if that kid can cheer you up

  “Well fuck, y’know I always have your back. Just- I um don’t let ‘em get to you.”

  Javier Escuella-

  This man would have no idea what to say at first

  It’ll take him a minute to register before he asks if he can hug you- mostly to reassure himself that you are physically safe

  Once that is done and over he will get straight to business and ask what you need

  Murdering the person would cross his mind tbh but he’s too focused on you that he won’t ask till much later

  If you need to clear your mind he’ll take you fishing, show you how to fish and have Hosea come along so it’s all positive vibes

  He’ll write some songs and lullabies for you and serenade you to show you how much he cares

  I honestly think Javi bottles everything up when it comes to himself so he’ll be more than happy to talk to you about your PTSD or share stories and even his own past if he deems it right by you

  He would gut whoever you want like a fish for you btw

  “Hermosa, you’re strength inspires me”

  And it truly does

  It takes a lot of guts to admit and accept what’s happened and even more to want to reach out for help

  Javier would admire that and remind you whenever you need to hear it

  Sean Macguire-

  Ahaha if you thought John or Dutch had a short fuse for this- The minute he finds out he’s already spouting nonsense of them meeting their demise

  And if you allow it or they are not dead he will surely make them have a terrible death

   He would risk getting caught by bounty hunters again if that were the case

  As for comforting you, this boy doesn’t exactly know how to do that

  He laughs off his own traumatic experience so he’d probably be trying to get you to crack a smile or drink with him

  Homeboy would try and get you to kill some bloody people for the fun of it ngl

  Hopefully, his energy will rub off on you

  I don’t really see him as the sitting down type but if he cares about you he is more than willing to listen to you and also more than willing to give you unwanted advice and a shite ton of his opinions

  “Yer fuckin’ priceless. No mutherfucker hassa right to touch ye.”

  He will end the speech with something gory I bet

  *I was going to add Keiran and Lenny but I ran out of ideas but I hope the lovely lads I did write and their reactions/comfort help anyone who needs it

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Sixteen

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: angsty angst… it’s not getting better anytime soon lol and a few cuss words.

Notes: Ngl this one is a little light on the word count(so sorry!), but ya girl has been dealing with a week of no power following a hurricane… This chapter still hurt me in the chest, but I’m trying to be patient while I get to the juicy bits! If the name I have for your blog isn’t working, please let me know and I can fix it asap for you!

Word Count: 1300

Series Masterlist

• Late September, 2005 • Forks HS •

Reader

Getting involved romantically with a vampire - what’s there to lose?

Everything, apparently.

To include my sanity, my piece and fucking quiet too.

“Did you finally scare him off? Or did he realize he could do better and run for the hills?” Lauren Mallory sneers, Forks High School’s resident bitch.

Her manicured hand slowly slides up my locker door and snaps it shut, I manage to snatch my hand back in time to avoid the thin metal before it could do any damage.

Rolling my eyes, I turn and head towards my next class silently, not in the mood to engage for fear of tossing fuel onto her fire. I can hear her cackle as I walk away, thankfully she doesn’t follow or I would’ve truly lost it.

Rounding the corner and finally out of her line of sight, I beeline for the nearest bathroom. Stumbling in, I push open the closest unoccupied stall and sit on the toilet, bag in my lap.

Eyes closed, deep breaths, it’s fine. Everything is fine. Her words mean nothing and they’re empty, she’s an opportunistic cunt and doesn’t know the situation. Her words mean nothing, Y/n.

Except they plant a seed of doubt anyways.

He did run for the hills, they all did. I told him I loved him and nothing. Gone, erased from my life, ripped off like a stuck band aid that leaves behind a red welt and a slight sting.

Except there’s nothing slight about the sting in my chest. Breathe Y/n, or you’ll lose the fucking plot and freak. With shaking hands, I pull out a pack of gum and unwrap a stick - something minty to focus on.

Two quick knocks on the stall door break me from my thoughts, “Occupied!” I manage to choke out.

“It’s me, you alright?” Angela Weber’s quiet voice rings out in the otherwise empty bathroom.

“Oh um, yeah. I-I’m okay.” The tremble in my voice is obvious, but thankfully she affords me the nicety of not commenting on it.

“Okay, well I just wanted to check on you.” A pause, “I saw what happened in the hallway, she’s wrong you know.” My breath hitches and I know she hears it. “Everyone saw the way he looked at you… Just know, she’s wrong.”

I watch under my stall door as her white tennis shoes disappear and the main bathroom door swings shut, quickly swallowing a sob trying to worm it’s way up my throat.

Some days he feels like a figment of my imagination, a dream I dreamt and can’t discern from reality. And some days I’m reminded that he was real, that he made me feel things I can’t get rid of.

Things I really wished I could get rid of.

One of the worst side effects of them being gone is how lonely I didn’t realize I’d be without them. I mean, from my first day here Jasper captivated me.

Now… Now everything seems dull and draining. A different kind of quiet that leaves me empty, a complete opposite to his comfortable silence. No one to talk to, no one to look forward to seeing, no one that understands.

Well, one person understands.

But she’s not exactly here enough to carry a conversation. Not that I can blame her, I’ve been avoiding people in my own way. They either ask about them and why they’re gone or they look at me with pity, both of which I don’t care to experience.

The days begin blurring together, the rain that’s always pouring over the Olympic Peninsula drowns everything constantly - almost as if the sky is sad in solidarity with me. Music seems too itchy and loud, books are too hard to focus on to just read what’s on the page, and just about anything else I could think of to get him off my mind is too… Complex. Stressful. Monumentous. Impossible.

Three familiar rapid, but soft knocks at my door snap me from the reverie of my silent room.

“Dinner is ready, sweetheart.” I think the crease between my mother’s brow is a permanent fixture nowadays, one that’s entirely my fault.

“I’m not really hungry.” Watching her face fall immediately has me scrambling for a cover, “But I’m sure I’ll be hungry later if you save some in the fridge.” The smile I give her isn’t fooling anyone, but at least I’m trying.

I have to try.

“Okay baby girl, you say the word and I’ll heat it up for you.” She lingers a few beats longer, her grip on the doorframe looks like it’s the only thing keeping her upright before she retreats downstairs.

My mom isn’t the most involved in my life and I prefer it that way, but Jasper being gone… The way it’s affected me is also taking its toll on her and it’s obvious. Guilt begins worming it’s way into my chest and prickles at the corners of my eyes, fuck.

I have to try.

• Late October, 2005 • Ithaca, New York •

Jasper

Life has been… extremely off-kilter since that night.

My hunger comes with a vengeance I’ve never experienced and my moods? They rival Rosalie’s and I’m supposed to be able to control them.

I’ve tried going longer between feedings to try and beat this crisis into submission, but it feels as though I’m fighting an uphill battle and I can’t see the crest of the mountain. I’m drowning and these feelings are dragging me further from the surface, the light is getting harder to see and my lungs are screaming.

Emmett hasn’t spoken to me this entire time out of frustration and I get it. The rest of my family is on pins and needles, the silence at home stretching open with every passing moment. Esme has been nothing but a pile of worry since Edward decided to become nomadic for a while. A temptation I myself feel, but can’t act on - not while my hunger is this volatile. Carlisle is working the night shift at a nearby hospital, our new location not as overcast as our previous one. Alice… Alice is angry. I catch her staring off into space more often than not and I know, the temptation to ask is on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to. Rose is strangely quiet, content to take care of small things around the house Esme would normally busy herself with and trying to cheer her mate up to no avail.

It all feels too much and not enough.

I know that if I could sleep, I would dream of her. I would try to at least. Try to remember her scent, the softness of her sweaters, the curve of her hip, the way she sinks into me when I hold her… White-hot flames lick me from the inside out and I close my eyes against the inferno, her smile a torturous image behind my eyelids. Get a grip - for fuck’s sake, you chose this to keep her safe.

I chose this to keep her safe.

I will keep her safe. Even if that means staying away from her, even if that means removing her, my heart, from my chest.

“I love you.”

Her confession rips through me even now, three of the most perfect combinations of words to grace those beautiful lips and I… Left her. Like a coward.

I left behind my heart on the driveway of a now cold and empty house. Alone. Unanswered.

But she’s safe. Safe from the monster crawling around under the surface of my skin, begging and pleading to be set free.

Safe from me.

Next

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@RavensandWriters -I couldn’t find your blog sweetheart! Your entry on google forms had spaces and I’m not sure if it might’ve auto-corrected, I’m so sorry!!🥺 if you see this, shoot me a PM or comment and I’ll fix it!

[poisonedspider]

poisonedspider: INDIE roleplay blog for ANGEL DUST (ANTHONY) from HAZBIN HOTEL. Incredibly NSFW muse. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Spoilers present. Canon divergent. Semi-selective. Medium activity. Multipara/Novella literate writer for 20+ years. Multiverse and multi-ship. Mostly head canon based representation of (one) famous porn star. Mature and triggering content present, must be 21+ to interact. Blog will explore extreme trauma, abandonment, s*xual assault, physical violence, death, etc. Mutuals only, please! Authored by Strode, he/him, 30+. Re-established April 2024 (originally wrote in July 2019). Please read rules under the cut on this post.

Stand-alone blog, not strictly affiliated with the Hazbin/Helluvaverse and community (and certainly not in support of Vivzie). Open to any and all characters and interactions. Let it be known I am NOT AN ASK BLOG. Personals are allowed to follow, but will not be followed back and will be BLOCKED if they keep interacting with my stuff. Do not reblog this post.

Angie's main bitches: @featheredbarkeep, @sirserpentine, @veelentino, @hazbinned, @mothvalentino, @widdlestwucifer, @doublejango, @grimowled, @voxxisms and @hzbinsouled.

Don’t be an asshole. Literally my number one rule, and basically my only rule. This is a hobby. We are nerds writing as fictional characters. I’m too old to feel in high school again. If you don’t like what I write, the block button is a function. Block me, and move along. Forget I exist. I do not participate in call out culture, and will not be forced to choose sides.

Memes are definitely the best way to interact with me. I personally will turn all memes into threads, as I feel that’s the point of them. You don’t have to necessarily continue them, but I’d appreciate if you did because I put a lot of thought and energy into my replies.

Never feel the need to match my length (I write a lot), but also know that I reserve the right to delete a thread if I don’t feel like what you wrote gives me enough information to write a well thought out reply. Also always feel free to delete threads I send to you that you no longer have muse for. This is for fun, it isn’t a homework assignment. You don’t need to explain yourself on your own blog!

I don’t work full-time, but that doesn’t mean I’m not constantly busy. I’m traveling almost every other weekend, and I’m trying to put my energy into being off Tumblr if I can help it. I may not always have the spoons to talk or do replies, even if you see me online. Just please be patient with me!

There will be a LOT of R-rated material on this blog. Almost everything will be NSFW - look at the show content, and especially this character. I do my best to tag all triggers, but please let me know if something specifically triggers you and I’ll edit it to be tagged right away so you can blacklist it. I’m still going to keep writing it, though. This is my blog. It is not my duty to make sure that you have a safe space, and if you don’t feel safe, I will not be remotely offended if you unfollow to keep your dash what you want it to be. It’s kind of impossible to write Angel and Angel’s story without some triggers coming up (Episode 4? Yeaaaah.)

Personals, do NOT reblog things. It already happened from the hour I made this blog, and it will become an automatic block. This is a roleplay blog. Period. I am also not an Ask Roleplay Blog, so while I may respond to some of those things in jest, it isn’t the purpose of this blog. Hazbin fan blogs and whatnot, leave my stuff out of it. If you continue to do this, I will report your blog. 

Angel Dust is gay. He will not be having romantic relationships with any females in the show. The only way he would ever be with a female, is if for whatever reason Valentino decided that he needed to sleep with a woman for his porn. Which I can’t see happening but….yeah. 

Speaking of Valentino, the way I play Angel is him still definitely within the confines of the contract. He might do things he is ashamed/embarassed of and doesn’t want to actually do because of the contract. Dubcon will probably be explored on here to some degree because he struggles saying no to Val. That doesn’t stop him from fighting back, but he’s going to do some gross things because his soul is owned. Also, my Angel does have love for Val. That doesn't mean I ship them AT ALL. It means that I have no shame as a therapist in exploring the cycle of abuse and toxic relationships, and that this is incredibly important to my Angel's story.

This being said, dubcon would be the only thing I'd put under a Read More because I know other people hate it. I don't really intend to write it out, but people could argue that Valentino using his 'poison' is considered dubious consent, and yeah, I'm going to write that and flesh it out a bit. As for other read mores, I'm lazy and it ain't gonna happen. You followed a character who is a sex worker. There's going to be smut. Murder. Cussing. That's the content of the show. I have no shame putting it out in the open. As mentioned, you can check the trigger warnings on my posts before reading something.

I’m a multipara/novella roleplayer. I’ll do some one liners and crack stuff, but it won’t be as common. I want to have elaborate threads. I want to flesh out this character. I’m going to come up with things about him that Vivzie doesn’t and make him a little bit my own. And that comes from writing, writing, writing. If I don't reply to you, it's probably because I can't work with one liners and I am stumped.

All the graphics and whatnot on this blog were either created or commissioned specifically by/for me. (I know I’m not a fabulous photoshop graphic maker but hey I tried). Do not steal from me. If I find out that you have, I will report your blog for theft. Majority of the graphic work on here is done by both @cerberuscommissions and @17webs.

DO NOT GODMODE. I will literally scream, cry, and throw up (okay, not literally). This is my blog, and I want to control Angel in my way. Please and thank.

I don't necessarily need people to reblog from the source, but if my activity is blowing up with the same person reblogging and reblogging, I'll kindly ask you to stop. If you continue, that will lead to a block because I already have hundreds of drafts and don't have time to swim through activity.

Sorry fam, I don't do Discord. I've had a few people ask, and while yes I do have it, I have it with a burning fiery passion. All roleplaying will be done here and here alone, because I like to have a Tumblr blog as a sort of 'archive.'

As for the mains (listed above), to not be discouraged just because I have mains. I was avoiding choosing them for a bit because I hate how it can feel like favoritism, but the fact of the matter is that there are unfortunately people on here that Angel has much more muse for, and that I talk to ooc almost every day. Those people get first priority. Let it be known that does NOT mean they are exclusives. As mentioned, I will be writing with every single character, no limitations. Nor are there any rules specifically associated with my mains. Mostly just means they get priority on things.

I don't have any triggers. Period. I appreciate people asking me if such and such is okay in a thread before we do it, but really, just do whatever your character feels they would do. I'm a therapist. And sure, therapists have their triggers too. But I've been exposed to so much shit that nothing really phases me anymore.

I do not own the character Angel Dust or any content from Hazbin Hotel. I am not associated with Vivziepop and am in fact an Anti-Viv blog (please don't associate me with her). Shocker, I know. But gotta put that on here. 

Tldr; Be chill, have fun, don’t follow if don’t like hypersexuality, severe trauma, or sassy gay men.  

[asterias-record-shop]

Eghem *wink wink* here comes the Richie Boyle request babe. Can I please request a story where the reader and Richie are long time friends and the reader is suspicious of Mable, but Richie is not listening to her and then moments before he gets shot the reader comes and saves the day while also getting rid of Mable, cuz we're that petty💅🏼. I'm kinda struggling with where the romantic part comes, but maybe in the end? Idk that's why I'll leave it to u since you're more creative.

Thank you for taking the time!!!

—𓆩[took you long enough]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

"Richie, you know she has a crush on you, right?"

Your words make Richie roll his eyes, taking the cigarette you both were sharing as you kicked your feet slightly on the roof of his mansion. The two of you had been sneaking onto the roof since you both were young and your parents were already talking about how you both were to be married at this age.

Your mother was already planning your wedding to be in four months time.

Richie didn't sleep around like everyone thought, ending every night sneaking into your room before bed and having you clean up all of his injuries of the fights he had gotten in that day. You were a nurse in the war for a while, and it was proven of use now that your fiancé was a member of a Mafia.

“You think I give two shits? The bitch is… a prude. She can’t handle me.” Richie winked at you as he watched you throw the butt of the cigarette down to the ground. “So, how are our wedding plans going, doll?”

“Absolutely amazing,” you giggled. Richie smiling at how happy this was getting you. Maybe, just maybe, you would be happy getting married to him. “Even if it’s not real, you know damn well I’m getting my big wedding.”

Richie scoffed slightly, the only thing he could do. He couldn’t let you in and say how bad he wanted it to be real, or tell you that it already was real. You had always said you would never get married if it wasn’t for love, and if that was true, why are you marrying him?

“Why’re you marrying me, doll?” Richie lit another cigarette easily with his other hand as you made sure the gauze on his arm would stay.

You paused, tilting your head up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you marrying me?” He fixed his words, trying to sound more professional. “You always said you wouldn’t get married if it wasn’t for love.”

You inhaled as you fixed the gauze, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Well, I’ve always been told this was going to happen,” you shrugged, standing and gathering your stuff. “Guess I tricked myself into falling in love with you.”

Richie doesn’t say anything as you stand, balancing yourself on the roof as you go into the room, already making yourself comfortable in Richie’s bed. He quickly finished the cigarette, standing and going into the room before someone knocks.

“Work?” You ask, the moonlight illuminating your body and that perfect satin nightgown that he always tried to sneak his hand under.

“Most likely, doll,” Richie grabs his coat and starts putting on his holsters as you hummed. “Be back soon.”

“Yeah,” you respond softly, twisting so that he couldn’t look at you. Richie hummed as he slowly kneeled onto the bed, pressing soft, playful kisses to your cheek and temple. “Ew, Richie! Leave, oh my goodness, you’re disgusting!”

He laughed as he stood, scoffing at the harder knock before fixing himself and getting his poker face back on. “Be back soon.”

“Be safe, Rich,” you whisper back, humming as you softly pushed him away. "Your daddy had a phone installed in here. Call me if you need anything, Richie."

"Same to you, doll."

You didn't expect to get a call saying Richie got shot. When you got there, you were already pissed when you saw Mable trying to stitch him up. "For fucks sake, get your hands off of me! You don't even know how to clean it right- fuck!"

"Leonard? Leonard, where is he?!" You yelled out, unable to find him just by his voice before Francis stepped out.

"There you are pretty girl; Richie's been absolutely begging for you."

"Oh, shut up!" You respond, quickly going to the back. "I got it, you can leave now."

You glared at Mable who just stared, mouth opening and closing like a fish as Richie flashed you a slight smile. "There you are doll. What took you so long?"

"Shut up," you couldn't hold back a giggle, quickly setting your bag on the table and shoving her out of the way. "Where's Leo?"

"I don't fucking know," he grunted as you opened up your medical bag, quickly pushing his hand behind your head and pulling you down for a firm kiss.

You gasped, giggling as you moved your hands to cup his face, nodding. "Took you long enough."

ahhh, you’re literally the best, my love! I loved writing this when I had to take a little break from Bingo :)

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪   𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪   𓆩[@aerangi]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[yourneighbourhoodtraumatisedkids]

You've done favorite music and fanfics... what's your favorite fan arts???

Okay, it seems like it’s favourite fanart this time! Not everyone could make it, but five people could, so we’re trying our best here!

*Clotpole and Hairdo Guy fixing the camera while Dark Raven goes through the script.*

Dark Raven: It says that it’s Claire this time on the list.

Clotpole: Yeah, I can’t deal with Toby anymore. He’s being an ass.

Hairdo Guy: *cracks knuckles* Need me to go talk to him?

Clotpole: Not unless you want a murderous time traveller on your heels. I can possibly get away with it, but don’t for even one second do you think you can get away with it, bitch.

Hairdo Guy: *flings hair* Who are you calling bitch here, darling?

Dark Raven: Hairdo, love you and all, but… no. Just no. 

Hairdo Guy: Fine. Get the first person on here so we can get shit over and done with.

Clotpole: *clears throat* CLAIRE, YOU’RE UP!

*Claire enters the room, grinning as she sits down on the first chair set up in a semicircle.*

Dark Raven: Hey, C-Bomb. If you don’t mind me asking, what is… your favourite fanart?

Claire: This one https://www.tumblr.com/inecole/649990950312181760/best-girl-some-more-of-my-weird-sense-of?source=share by @inecole. I really just like their type of style when drawing me, and typically, I’ve always been drawn to that sort of style.

Dark Raven: *glances at Clotpole* Yeah, no, we’re always going to be starting with her in the future, Boss.

Clotpole: Yeah, I’m going to have to agree with you there. NEXT!

*Douxie walks into the room, and sits down next to Claire*

Douxie: Ladies, my dear sir.

Clotpole: Okay, Douxie, none of the posh nonsense until after we get to cut the shooting.  Tell us, favourite fanart?

Douxie: Has to be this one: https://www.tumblr.com/honeyxmonkey/726948737517322240/more-of-him-douxies-hair-getting-long-in-the?source=share by @honeyxmonkey. I want my long hair back sometimes, and this piece of fanart certainly proves how much I need it.

Claire: *giggles* You’d look good with long hair.

Hairdo Guy: But my hair will always look better.

Dark Raven: Dude, we get it- your hair is amazing, it floats, and it likes whipping my boyfriend in the face. Speaking of which… where is Dollophead?

Clotpole: *blushes* Nowhere.

Dark Raven: I’m guessing it’s a secret, right?

Clotpole: You guessed it, sister!

Dark Raven: Well, as long as Lance and him don’t break into a museum again, I say we’re safe.

Clotpole: That wasn’t Dollophead, that was Lance, KK and Hairdo Guy.

Dark Raven: He was on video call with them. I was there.

Douxie: Wait, Hairdo Guy, Lance and KK broke into a museum?!?!

Claire: I mean, so did Jim and Toby. Nothing new to me.

Clotpole: Guys, I spent effort writing this script and we’re going off track already. And we need to get this posted by Tuesday at the latest we can! So let’s hurry up, okay?! NEXT!

*Mary walks in and sits down, before swinging her legs into Douxie’s lap*

Mary: I am so done with this room- I swear it doesn’t do our asks any justice.

Hairdo Guy: *shrugs* None can do, m’lady. You’re just going to have to do with it. Anyway, favourite fanart?

Mary: You’re not Chat Noir, so don’t call me, m’lady. Anyway, my favourite fan art has to be… https://www.tumblr.com/avirxy/701584713464283136/the-chaos-that-would-unfold-if-theyd-all-been?source=share by @avirxy. Way too good. I honestly just fell in love with this meme draw.

Clotpole: Avirxy and Honey have really been getting our attention lately, but then again, they’re both way too good at what they do. Oi, Dark Raven, did you see that one ask I sent Avirxy of a possessed Jimgana from her angsty art meme?

Dark Raven: Oh yeah… that one you sent me- I remember that one. There’s like a world of wonder to explore with a possessed Jim, but there’s even more to explore when it’s Jim and Morgana as a romantic pairing-

Claire: NO WAY!

Clotpole: Okay, moving on! Dark Raven, please for the love of god don’t say that again- it’s Jlaire forever and Ajim at the maximum for my wondering ass to bear as a multishipper-

Hairdo Guy: And then there’s Jeves-

Clotpole: That’s our secret, you idiot-

Douxie: I can’t believe I’m saying this but FOR THE LOVE OF MASTER MERLIN, NEXT!

*Toby enters, wearing sunglasses*

Toby: Hello, beautiful world!

Clotpole: Did someone give him tequila?

Hairdo Guy: Is that really your first reaction to Toby wearing sunglasses?!?!?!

Clotpole: Shut up, man. Anyway, Toby, what is your favourite piece of fanart?

Toby: *sits down* This awesome piece: https://www.tumblr.com/jae-in-a-trenchcoat/730304134181470208/this-tag-absolutely-took-me-out?source=share by @jae-in-a-trenchcoat. Love your work, Jae! It was super random when I found it, but the look on Douxie’s face was so worth it.

Douxie: What do you mean?

Toby: Not now, dude. I’ll show you later.

Clotpole: *rolls eyes* Someone definitely gave him tequila- or something spiked with it. Anyway, final person, YOU CAN COME OUT NOW!

*Jim walks into the room, smiling*

Jim: Hey, guys!

*Jim sits down, and leans back into chair*

Dark Raven: What’s got you so cheery?

Jim: Nothing really. What’s the question today?

Clotpole: Favourite fanart?

Jim: Anything Percy Jackson.

Hairdo Guy: *facepalms*

Clotpole: Dude, we know you’re obsessed with Percy Jackson. We mean anything in the TOA side of things.

Jim: Wait… Trials of Apollo?

Clotpole: NO JIM, WE MEAN TALES OF ARCADIA, GODDAMMIT!

Dark Raven: Jim, just say it, dude. We’re going off script, and Clotpole needs a nap.

Jim: Then… anything by @bluheaven-adw. Love all her art.

Clotpole: *nods* Okay, I’m out of here. Claire, create me a shadow portal back to my house.

*Claire creates a shadow portal and Clotpole jumps into it, before it closes. Everyone looks at the camera.*

Mary: If you have any questions, hit that ask button, I guess.

Douxie: And give us a follow for more content!

*Claire hides her head in her hands*

Claire: Dios mio, we sound like a Youtube channel at this point.

*Jim turns to look at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow*

Jim: We’re worse than that. We’re a Tumblr account with no sense of self preservation.

Toby: That’s just you, Jimbo. I say we get Discord and Twitter.

Everyone else apart from Douxie and Hairdo Guy: NO TOBY!

Douxie: I say we give at least Discord a shot.

Hairdo Guy: I’m up for anything, honestly.

*Suddenly, the lights switch off, and electricity crackles. Dark Raven sighs*

Mary: I think that was Clotpole saying no.

*Electricity crackles again.*

Jim: And that was her threatening us with a fate worse than death if we do any sketchy shit.

Dark Raven: And that's why we don't talk about Twitter out of all the things you could, Toby.

*camera cuts to black*

[whomadewaffles]

Some pjhazel incorrect quotes I've been saving for awhile...I feel like with how starved for content shippers of these two are right now, keeping these to myself would be a crime. I'm SO sorry for not citing sources. I wasn’t originally planning to post these, and finding them retroactively is like.. impossible.

Pjhazel is the focus, but others are included as side characters. So if you don't ship them, then just scroll on by and go about your day, please!

Also, for a heads up that will apply to all 3 parts: expect bad language and sex references cos obviously.

Oh, and this is part 1 of 3, even if it is the longest part

Long post under the cut!

_______

Josie: You slept with Hazel? OUR Hazel? Callahan??

Pj: I didn't know what else to do! She had those big, sad eyes. I couldn't help it.

Josie: ...sure, sounds like you had no other choice.

--------

Pj: I love saying 'fuck me' because it can either be sexual or sarcastic and those are two things that describe me perfectly.

--------

Hazel, jumping out of pj's closet: BOO!

Pj:

Hazel:

Pj:

Hazel: *makes the patented Hazel callahan sad face*

Pj: Ahh! Oh my god! You scared me!

------

Hazel: TERRIBLE NEWS!

Pj: Did you disarm the bomb?

Hazel: If I disarmed it, would I come running in here and shout, TERRIBLE NEWS!?

------

Pj: hazel, you are such a nerdy little dork, you can't pull any girl.

Hazel * has been crushing on her since they met*: okay. that's fine.

*2 years later*

Hazel: so what did you say? Repeat that again.

Pj: 🤡

--------

Pj: It has come to my attention, that I have some unresolved feelings or resentment toward my father.

Therapist: a little late, but I’m happy you’ve taken this first step. Now you can start looking to overcome that.

Pj: Already done. I’ve found a full proof solution…I’m going to ignore it. Completely and utterly.

Pj: just like my dad did me.

--------

Pj: the secret to being impulsive successfully is being faster than the consequences of your actions. you can't let them catch you or its all over

Annie: is that why everytime Hazel even looks at you since you kissed her you run away like a little bitch?

-------

Pj *trying everything she can to kiss hazel again without just admitting she likes her like a normal healthy person*: Hey, are you aware that kissing reduces stress?

Hazel: Okay.

Pj:

Hazel:

Pj: Hey, you look stressed. Like, really stressed. Just wanted to let you know.

--------

Hazel: It’s not that I don’t trust pj, I just... don’t trust her impulse control

-------

Hazel: None of you might remember this, but there was a time when PJ considered herself out of my league.

Hazel: Oh, how the mighty have fallen (into my arms)

------

Hazel *trying to teach her girlfriend how to take better notes in class*: to make it easier, you should always highlight the important things

*later*

Annie: Hazel, why are you covered in different colored highlighter?

Hazel: don't ask

Pj: she's important! okay!?

-------

Hazel: I'm freaking out, How do I make our first date really romantic?

Stella-Rebecca: Be mysterious.

Hazel: Okay!

*later, while on a date with pj* 

Pj: So where are we going?

Hazel: None of your fucking business.

Pj *is shocked and a little turned on* 😳

-------

Pj: Yeah, I lost the ability to give a shit at a very young age. It was a very tragic accident. Never recovered

------

Pj: *on the phone with josie* I can’t talk right now, I’m doing hot girl shit.

Josie: You’re pulling Oreos apart and shaving off the frosting to make a mega Oreo, aren’t you?

Pj: Maybe.

-----

Pj: I love you.

Hazel: I thought I annoyed you?

Pj: You do annoy me. You annoy me more than I ever thought possible, but I want to spend every irritating moment with you.

--------

Pj: Im tired

Hazel: You should come to the gym with me! We could make it a date and exercising gives you energy!

Pj: Yeah, the same energy you need to go to the gym

Pj: Sounds like a pyramid scheme to me

------

Pj *texting*: I'm showering

Hazel *texting back*: oh nice, send a pic of you're hair in a giant spike lmao!

--------

Pj: rest assured, rational me and impulsive me are having a fucking smackdown 24/7 100% of the time

-----

Hazel: Please, this is the 4th time its happened, I'm begging you go to a doctor.

Pj: I'm sorry is this OUR broken nose? Stay out of it.

------

Pj: I asked Hazel out.

Britney: Oh, I’m sorry.

Pj: Why?

Brittney: Well, I assume she said no.

Pj: No, she said yes.

Brittney: Really? Then I’m sorry for her.

-------

Pj: Shout out to my girlfriend who just randomly decided to eat my chapstick.

Hazel: WHY WOULD THEY MAKE IT COTTON-CANDY FLAVORED IF IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE EATEN?!

--------

Pj: You're annoying.

Hazel *in her head*: Enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst with happy ending, 300k+ words

------

Pj: I win

Hazel: I am literally pinning you down

Pj: I know

-----

Hazel: So sorry for making you fall in love with me because of my autistic swag and kissable lips.

--------

Pj: *Drinking a bottle of water*

Josie: Since when do you carry water? I've known you my whole life and you never do that.

Pj: Hazel freaked out ‘cause I told her I never drink water

Pj: Now she’s making me drink 8 glasses a day

Pj: It’s like, there’s water in soda, coffee, the little pools of water on pizza…

Isabel: …That’s grease

Pj: Well it’s wet isn’t it!

-------

Hazel: You're in love with me?

Pj: Unless you're not in love with me. Then I take it back, because, you know... I'm cool.

-------

Pj: You are an absolute fucking dork.

Hazel *singing*: Yeah, but I'm your dork!

Pj *happy sigh*: Yeah, you're my dork.

--------

Pj: I'm a very good liar.

Josie: Yesterday, I asked if you were missing  hazel while she was gone, and you said "no" right before bursting into tears.

--------

[mlobsters]

supernatural s11e13 love hurts (w. eric charmelo, nicole snyder)

STACY Ew, I can taste her mom lipstick…you’re telling her tonight, right?

rude, stacy :P

SAM Is that a hickey? DEAN And? It was Valentine’s Day. I can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic. SAM You got half of that right. DEAN Just doing my civic duty. Helping all the single ladies. You know the best thing about February 14th. You don’t have to be Mr. Right, just Mr. Right Now. SAM That’s classy. DEAN Yeah and what’d you do, judgy? Curl up in your Snuggie, watch '50 Shades' on cable?

cuz every girl crazy bout sharp dressed man men

*squints* what is that fake domain, danharper.search for the knockoff facebook page. and we got an untitled folder, not quite untitled 1 and 2 but i'll take it :p

always with the full kitchenette and vintage appliances. and bringing back the ridiculous little separators. tires!

DEAN I need a beer, regroup, maybe get lucky. SAM Didn’t you just get lucky? DEAN That was in Kansas. What do you say? You with me? Ready to go scrape a few hearts off the bar room floor? SAM I think I’ll pass. I’m gonna go hit the lore, but you go be you. DEAN Suit yourself.

dean's feelin his oats again apparently! feels like he had some seasons there where far as we knew he wasn't ever getting laid

laughing at the wife shoving these witchy items down the garbage disposal. one way to get rid of things i guess? not so good for the plumbing though

hey they named a motel after me personally

DEAN Hey. Any luck? SAM No. You? DEAN Nah. Hey what’s a…uh…dad bod?

please. (reminder that all bodies are good bodies)

MELISSA All I had to do was chant it and seal it with a kiss.

oh i see. it was plot-relevant mom lipstick.

SAM So the curse is transmittable? DEAN Like a magic STD. Okay that works. Kinda makes you nostalgic for good old fashioned herpes.

this is very fic-ish. LOL and of course dean kisses the lady to take the curse on. clearly he should hot potato it over to sam at some point but we know that's not gonna happen :p

baby lookin pretty in all those pink highlights

DEAN I’d say that went pretty well. What do you think? SAM Wait. Are you serious? You think it’s a great idea to give yourself a fatal curse? DEAN Well, target's off her back ain’t it? SAM I’m just saying. You don’t have to do this. Be the guinea pig. DEAN What? SAM Be the martyr. Try to carry the weight by yourself. Do this. DEAN I’m gonna be fine, okay? And as long as I’m good, she’s good and that’s the important thing. Besides. It proved our theory didn’t it? That this whole kiss of death thing is transmittable. I mean, I’m not asking for the Nobel here, but thank you.

both reasonable to do and also his martyr tendencies are well documented :p but even if he died, wouldn't it just go back to her? moo point, as they say?

SAM I guess. Here we go. Someone chants a curse, lays a wet one on you, then the victim is seduced and killed by the Qareen, but instead of taking the form of Barbara Eden, the present themselves as your deepest, darkest desire.

oh great. so we're gonna see amara then. very convenient of this witch to leave post-it notes with all the details on their monster including how to kill it

okay, that was adorable. so happy to win for once, didn't even care to claim the prize

AMARA You’re a mystery. I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it’s cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can’t help yourself, so why fight it. Just give in.

i mean it's just funny because we did kind of do this already in 4x14 sex and violence with the siren.

from s4e14 SAM Yeah. You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves. You know, like an illusion. -- MUNROE Dean's all mine. SAM You poisoned him. MUNROE No. I gave him what he needed. And it wasn't some bitch in a G-string. It was you. A little brother that looked up to him, that he could trust. And now he loves me. He'd do anything for me. And I gotta tell you, Sam, that kind of devotion? I mean, watching someone kill for you? It's the best feeling in the world. SAM Is that why you're slutting all over town? MUNROE Ahh. I get bored, like we all do. And I wanna fall in love again. And again...and again.

have to do some mental gymnastics to not understand that as wincest, i think. still hard to wrap my head around that making it to the screen. anyway. dean wants to bang amara, let's get to it

DEAN It was Amara. SAM That surprise you? DEAN That doesn’t surprise you? SAM Honestly? DEAN Honestly? You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest darkest desire? SAM She isn’t? DEAN No! She can’t be! SAM Why not? DEAN Why? Because if she is that means that I’m… SAM Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil? DEAN For starters, yeah.

SAM Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not. DEAN You know that I want her ass dead. SAM Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? Just how bad is it? DEAN Standing here right now, every bone in my body wants to run her through. Send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I’m near her, I don’t know. Something happens and I can’t explain it, but to call it desire or love…it’s not that. I’m screwed man. We wanna kill the darkness. We need to kill the darkness. And I don’t think I can. I’m sorry to do that to you, ya know, but when it comes right down to it… SAM I got it Dean.

i honestly can't remember the last time they had that open of a conversation. dare i say, that's practically out of character understanding from sam, when it comes to dean hiding something important like that. i fully expected the show to have him flip his lid over dean not telling him something relevant to their big monster hunt, not trusting him with being able to handle the truth. maybe i'm just jaded by how they've done overblown brother conflict for so many seasons. but anyway, i'm thankful for sam being so reasonable and understanding. i'm thankful for dean just telling him straight up what's going on and that he can recognize he can't just power through this problem. usually they only talk this way with other people, it's nice to have it directed at each other for once. still a little bit in shock, honestly.

i like how they focused on the money he left to cover the damages again after showing him slip it under initially. like hello fans yes they do try to cover the fact that they're constantly wrecking motel rooms. feel like these later seasons have a lot of little nods like that (like say, the rock paper scissors, a bitch/jerk moment in 11x04, etc)

[candyredmusings]

“Another One Of Those ‘Things My Discord Said’ Sentence Starters.

Things taken from DMs and a few group chats from Discord. CW: NSFT Change / Edit as necessary !

i am literally tom cruise

cum is cool.

[NAME]  is fucked up cus he is straight man

[NAME]  show me your fuckin tits

[NAME], you better not be standing catatonic in your room wearing your handmade jigsaw robe again.

its like they creampied me but instead of cum it was new music

like what about my pussy-area makes u think sea cucumber

the mind is weak. but the body is funky

so im reading that fanfic where 1d like, buys your soul or whatever and im shook

well tom servo is a sex god

and then i freaked it

FUCK YOU APPLE JACK FUCK

ILL SLURP WITH YOU

LEMME SHOW U DICK

ITS A SIDE QUEST YOU SILLY BITCH

I’m a zombie the law can’t stop me

LEAVE YOUR GOLDEN UNCRUSTABLES OUT OF MY HOME I WILL NOT FALL VICTIM TO THY TRICKERY

you, telling me to ignore a twink with side swept brown hair? foolish.

Hes so hot i briefly started texting like a straight person

and because I’m god and I’ve decided that. No. In fact. I’m not done.

MY DUMB BOTTOM BRAIN FOLLOWS COMMANDS TOO WELL

[NAME], I know you love bloopy reggae jams. Now is not the time

OH THATS WHAT I THOUGHT YOUD SAY YOU STUPID ACCIDENTAL HIMBO DEMON

man i rlly am attracted to paul mccartney.

its not that kennedy was gay af sleeping w jackies fat ass out, he just has a better one-

jealous of my massive honkeers

YOU BRAINCELLED BITCH

this forced open my third eye and i saw the devil--

oh me seeming romantically interested in u is making u uncomfortable?? noted

the only pussy this party city shake out wig looking mother fucker is getting

[NAME]  expose your teeth right fucking now

IN THE DEPARTMENT OF OLD MAN FUCKING, WEVE GOT YOU BEAT

What if we kissed while one of us got called racist and we are both boys

i just jacked it to minecraft piss porn

I will pop a huge tentacle boner

i hate females fr fr

we left u to die to play minecraft

IM GONNA FRICKLE-FRACK YOUR WIFE

CAN I KARATE CHOP IT LIKE IN SPONGEBOB

DWIGHT FROM THE OFFICE IS NOT MY SKRUNKLY

she would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

My brother in Christ you’re being haunted

i want to wring you like a wet towel and slap u against a wall

Yeah you'll come to learn I just have a thing for milk

Piss ur pants harder pls I wanna watch

I'm gonna corn on the kill myself

good morning to parappa and his stans. everyone else..... hi ig

lol look at this clown with no slurs

God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

this is how I reveal myself to be homophobic

I have no sluts

idk what it is abt it but boba makes me become like an actual whore

im homophobic suddenly

he was like ‘You're so big”.... and i just started crying

anyones penis can be hard hes not special

for the love of god please help me

i can talk about piss for hours

im sorry i havent recognized mickey mouse clubhouse ost as the cultural landmark that it is

I ASKED IF WE WOULD RP AFTER FUCKING BIBLE STUDY OR WHATEVER

the benefits of being a yandere is that i dont have to forgive OR forget and I am a living breathing PVP zone so Fuck with me white boy.

When toxic by ashnikko comes on I enter the gaslight gatekeep phases of my girlbosshood

im like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

[NAME] is just all fucking Sorts of fucked up

im clownfaking

why are we here? to suffer? every other day i get messages from a whore

always thinking abt when my friend called me a "white boy whore"

you gotta PUMP the errand girl with cocaine

im beyond shame bc i love all cock try again

people have fetishes.

They really do crucify anyone these days huh

u may have never hungered for cock but you have hungered for a sub sandwich and honestly? theyre basically the same thing-

hi im drawing hentai

[NAME] idk why but that really. makes me want to stab you

“Don't have sex FOMO, [NAME], no! “

“TRY AND NUKE THIS, BITCH.”

“There's a group of golden skeletons behind you hitting the griddy “

“GRANDPA’S ASHES SUCKED MY COCK AND TOOK ME TO ARBYS.”

“You’re lanky with no gender and silly goofy with the rizz it works.”

“You can’t just tell me I could be a Tumblr sexy man to my face at 4:30 PM.”

"I have strong opinions about the soviet union"

“CALL THAT PUSSY THE MATRIX CAUSE IM IN THIS BITCH AND I CANT GET OUT “

“dont cry. 8000 types of reptiles on the planet, okay?”

[NAME] lives his life like he’s an RPG character but picks only the rude dialogue options.”

“I need to beat off to this before God destroys California.”

"No amount of pussy could get me on a rollercoaster with three loops"

"I love your senior citizen pussy"

"Gerber is pretty reliable .. I mean .. The Gerber baby didn't die .... did it?"

“you are white i assume”

"I hate you terrorist, and you may quote me on that"

"I love watching you play minecraft. It's like watching a baby fawn."

"I've never seen old men who fuck harder."

"i don't need him to KILL i need him to FUCK ME"

"well maybe if you just dicked down your wife she wouldn't have gone on a murderous slut rampage"

"why cant these BIG titty bimbos stop HANGING around me"

[moyazaika]

My birthday was on the 25th of July, but due to certain circumstances we couldn’t have a celebration with my family (both sides of my family). I had a small celebration with some family on my actual birthday and it was really nice, but we will be having another celebration on the 3rd of August, this time with both sides of my family and also with some family friends. It’ll be Spider-Man themed because I’m a sucker for him. I had wanted to do a “dress inspired by a marvel character” but I don’t think it’ll happen. I’ll save you a plate of cake and also some of the food served. A family friend will be cooking and he’s amazing.

Know for a fact that the moment some sort of lore of Red is dropped, I’ll be the happiest person on the planet. I’ll defend their actions with everything I’ve got, they’re my beloved and they have a special place in my heart. I just wanna get inside their head (and Valentine’s too) and just,,, learn. I kinda feel like the pathetic yan, maybe that’s why I like him so much. But,,, I just need to understand them. Or maybe just to learn more and more and slowly piece together all the information given. I love your characters, they’re probably the first ones who have me like this.

So, while I was reading the part about the scene bitches I actually snorted and almost choked on my drink. The same thing happened while rereading an ask an anon sent that said “It’s always 2 dumb bitches telling each other exactlyyy”. I’ll keep them in the small folder I have of things that make me laugh. There’s many amazing anons here and even if they may not know me, I love all of them.

My middle school self felt attacked by the “he would totally make a powerpoint presentation and it definitely has those stupid fucking star transitions that are so slow they take 3 entire seconds to get to the next slide.” I felt so cool adding transitions and animations and even those clapping sounds in the end, now I see why some classmates thought I was weird /j😭 Twinning with pathetic yan

My main language is considered a romantic language (Spanish), so I can’t really say much regarding the preference Europeans have for themselves. Latin Americans winning once again- Still, I love languages, I love learning, and so far I’ve seen so many amazing phrases and words that have me just frozen in place having to understand just how beautiful a word or a phrase can be. Languages can be such a beauty, I’m hopelessly devoted to them. Something I wanted to share: There’s this word in Nahuatl (native language in Mexico) which is “apapacho” that could be translated in English to cuddle. It means “to caress with the soul”. It’s one of my favorite words. And there’s also this phrase in Nahuatl which is “Mitztemoa noyollo” which could be translated to “My heart looks for you”, which as far as I’m aware could be used to say you miss someone.

I feel like I write too much, end acting like some sort of overexcited puppy. I just get too happy, can’t help it. I’m jumping from one topic to the other 😭 anyways, hope you have an amazing week, you deserve it. Remember to drink water, eat well, and all the stuff you’re supposed to know. Keep the hard work but remember to rest when you need it! And even sometimes when you don’t feel like you need it but you’re supposed to. You deserve nice things, hope life treats you very well. Also, been thinking about drawing once again but I don’t really know what to draw, so please do share some ideas or stuff.

- With love, ❤️‍🩹 anon.

BRO I /COMPLETELY/ MISSED THIS ASK HEART NONNIE BELOVED HELLO <333 always loveeeee hearing from uuuu 💗💗💗

i hope ur bday was the loveliest so far!! as well as your actual celebration. would have been a week since then, but nevertheless i hope u enjoyed yourself!! spider man themed oh yEAHH i remember we gushed over the spider verse movies around the time the second one was popular good times haha when the internet was obsessed with o’hara fuck i need that man carnally 😂🙏🏼

know that every time you mention my oc’s in an ask you send i am in love with the way u talk about them. it just feels so introspective and i can tell u put thought into what u say and it flatters me greatly bshshuhshushjsj

I REMEMBEE THE CLAPPING SOUNDS HAHSU back in the days we used to use microsoft powerpoint now everyone just wants to use google slides damn 💔💔 but the dissolve transition.. the star one… they will Never lose their charm that shit was fire

languages are so lovely!! ive always wanted to learn spanish purely bc i hear it’s relatively easy for english speakers apparently, but it sounds so different to anything i speak and conjugations and grammar rules fuck me up and i’m scared 😭😭

my heart. my heart What. my heart. MY HEART LOOKS FOR YOU. IM FLOORED GAGGED THATS SO GORGEOUS OH MY GOD. bro. bro don’t even i’m like 2 seconds away from downloading duolingo i need this in my daily vocab ❤️❤️😭😭😭 oh that’s actually so beautiful; LOTE expressions of love my beloved <3 it reminds me of farsi’s jiggaram which is like,,, technically my liver,,, but comes off more as a term of endearment for people reeeealllllyy dear to the speaker and the connotations when speakers use it to mean like,, a part of myself i can’t be without,,, T_T I LOVE LANGUAGES THEYRE SO BEAUTIFUL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

hmmmmmmmmmm i’m super indecisive so the worst person to ask for conclusive ideas or advice but maybe try drawing some marvel character? i know you like the mcu, so that might be fun!!!