#shrimp angst

[aliensupastar]

not wrong, but not right

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You do your best to keep your head down at your job. When that doesn't work, Carmy's there for you anyways.

Part II Part III

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, depiction of an eating disorder, vent fic, fainting, hospitals, slightly one-sided romantic feelings?

A/N: PLEASE mind the warnings! as mentioned, this is a vent fic with a reader that has an eating disorder. mostly made for my own comfort/self-indulgence, but i thought i’d post it anyways. title inspired by "ode to the mets" by the strokes, gif by heardchef <3

All things considered, your job could be worse. Honestly, you feel like you lucked out a bit, your hiring process being expedited due to Marcus being the one to recommend you to his boss, given that they needed new workers for their newly opened restaurant — you knew it was a good idea to stay in touch with that guy after high school. 

Working front-of-house with Richie could get overwhelming, to say the least. Dealing with him your first few weeks took a lot of adjustment, and a lot of holding back from calling him every foul name in the book. But it all smoothened out eventually. Your coworkers were nice, the pay was decent, the train ride was short. And your boss… well, it didn’t hurt that your boss was nice to look at. 

You’re a little embarrassed by it. You spend a little too much time looking at him when you’re supposed to be focused on your prep, and you always stop by the back office to say goodnight before you clock out, but you think you’ve kept it subtle enough to go unnoticed. You’ve gotten a little too good at that, going unnoticed. 

“Need me to do anything else before I head out?” You lean against the doorway of the tiny office as you say it, backpack already on and your jacket draped over your arms. Carmy’s sitting in his desk chair, bent over some paperwork and looking a little surprised at your question.

“Uh, no, we’re good here. But if you wanna stick around for a bit, Syd and I are makin’ something out of the food we were gonna have to throw out tonight, you could take some of it home with you. Save time on dinner.” He offers with a small smile. You hate the temptation that immediately springs up in you, because you want so badly to take him up on it. The smell of food in the kitchen is always mouthwatering, and when Carmy’s making dishes instead of being on expo, it somehow smells even better. 

You’ve never even tried Carmy’s cooking. You work for one of the most excellent chefs in the country, and you can’t even answer with an honest opinion when people ask you if the food at the restaurant is good. 

Despite all that, you shake your head, using the excuse of wanting to catch your train before it gets dark out, and he takes that easily. 

“Heard.” He nods, looking like he might want to say more. “Well, thank you, for showin’ up today. You were great.”

“Thank you, chef.” You reply, unable to stop yourself from smiling at the praise. “Goodnight, Carm.” 

Before you can change your mind, you turn and walk away, clocking out quickly, but you still hear him say “Night!” from behind you. 

When you make it onto a train car, safely on your way back to your apartment, you finally let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe some other day, you think to yourself. It’ll be worth it to try the food some other day.

It had been one incident. That’s what you swore to yourself: one incident, one slip up, and it would never happen again. Besides, you think — or rather, hoped — Carmy’s forgotten about it. It was months ago, and things moved quickly in the restaurant, no time to dwell on things, especially not for the guy who has to run it. 

You’d gone out to the back alley of The Bear for a short break. You’d seen the others do it a million times, mostly for smoke breaks, but you didn’t need a cigarette. You needed to sit down, give yourself a chance to catch your breath as your vision started to swim and your ears felt like they had been filled with cotton. And, well, usually you didn’t need breaks like that, usually you didn’t allow yourself to take them like the others did, but there was a lull between the lunch and dinner rush and Richie didn’t need your help in the front, so you quietly slipped out the back door while hastily putting your coat on. Just this once, you let yourself slump against the wall, sliding down until you were sat on the pavement. You don’t even remember your consciousness fading, just your heartbeat thrumming in your ears while your eyes slipped shut. 

Carmy found you like that. He had barely noticed your extended absence, too busy catching up on more paperwork in his office before the dinner crowd poured in, and he decided he needed a smoke. It had almost startled him when he finally did notice you sitting there, your presence so quiet it took him a few seconds, before he also noticed you were asleep. He couldn’t blame you for that. He could use a fuckin’ nap these days. 

Still, he walked over and leaned down, nudging your shoulder with his hand to rouse you, muttering a quiet “hey.” But you didn’t wake, not even after a couple more pokes. And then he started to worry. 

When you came to, it was because of Carmy’s hands on both your cheeks, gently patting your face, his blue eyes wide with panic. You flinched a bit, startling at the realisation of what you'd done, swearing under your breath, and that was enough for Carmy to step back. 

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded quickly on instinct. 

“I’m- fine. Yeah, I’m okay.” You stumbled over your assurance, knowing he didn’t quite believe you from the way he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

“What are you doing out here? You’re freezin’.” You bite your lip, embarrassed at being caught a bit red-handed, unconscious with your body temperature dropping. You’re usually better than that. Better at hiding behind smiles, concealer over your dark under-eyes, and excuses of being more of a big breakfast person to get out of eating family meals with the rest of your coworkers every afternoon. 

“Just tired. I’m fine.” You reply, hoping that’d be enough of an excuse, because everyone here is a little exhausted all the time. You pull yourself to your feet once he stands up from crouching in front of you, trying to convince him to just brush it off. “I'm good to keep going.”

You almost think that he buys that, before he stares at you a little bit longer, and you try not to shrink under his gaze. 

“People who are fine usually don’t take five minutes to wake up.” He says. You don’t have a comeback. 

“Yes, chef,” is the only thing you can say as you turn and walk back into the kitchen quickly, avoiding eye contact with him and making it through the rest of the day without needing another break, and without giving him a chance to talk to you again before you clock out that day. You don’t even stop by the office to say goodnight.

It was months ago, one time, and it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Not at work, not in the middle of a rush. That was just your luck, you guess, that you would get caught up working front-of-house, running between taking orders with Richie and handing out plates whenever you heard somebody yelling “Hands!” in the back, all while you hadn’t had anything more than water and a coffee in the morning in… fuck, you lost count of the days again. 

You pause to take deep breaths and sips of water when you can, but you guess it wasn’t often enough, because one second you’re picking up plates from the expo station and the next you’re collapsing, taking the dishes with you. 

When you wake up in a hospital bed afterwards, Carmy’s there. Slumped over in a plastic chair that can’t be comfortable, clad in a familiar checkered wool jacket. He’s asleep, but he’s here, and you don’t have the heart to wake him. You have no idea how long you’ve been out, but your heart fills with equal parts guilt and gratitude at the fact that he’s likely been sat by your side for hours. 

You turn your attention away from Carmy for a second, taking in the rest of your surroundings. The cotton hospital gown, the uncomfortably firm mattress beneath you, the beeping of an EKG to your left, and to your right- 

Your breath catches when you see it. An IV bag, steadily dripping fluid into you through the needle in your arm, innocuous but sinister. 

“Shit.” You breathe out. Now you’re panicking. Now you’re cursing yourself for not being able to hold it together long enough to get through a busy hour, and reaching for the bag to get a better look at the text that you hope and pray details it’s nutritional information, but you quickly snatch your hand back when the privacy curtain is peeled away by a nurse checking up on you. 

The sound of the curtain rings scraping against metal wakes Carmy, and the nurse smiles apologetically before turning to you and explaining what you already guessed: you're in ketosis, you fainted due to low blood sugar levels and a high-stress environment, you should take it easy and eat when you get home. You’ll be discharged as soon as your IV bag is finished. Fuck. You nod and smile along with everything she says, lying through your teeth about merely skipping breakfast that morning and thanking her for her time until you can get her to leave you alone again. 

Well, alone with your boss, who’s silent through the whole conversation.

You wait for a minute after the nurse leaves, before turning to your right and carefully lifting yourself onto your knees to tug the IV bag off its hook and flip it over, desperately scanning the printed text. You can’t even bring yourself to care that Carmy’s there anymore, even when you can feel his eyes on you, witnessing your silent panic. You can’t help it. 

You swear under your breath once you find what you’re looking for. When you do the math in your head, it’s- fuck- it’s hundreds of calories that they’re pumping into you. You hang the bag up and sit back, defeated, unable to do anything but fiddle with the thin blanket draped over your legs and curse yourself for not being more careful. 

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?” Carmy asks gently after a few minutes, breaking the silence. You don’t know why that question makes your eyes fill with tears, even as you shake your head vehemently. 

“Nothing’s going on, Carm. I’m okay.” You tell him, trying to keep your voice neutral. He pauses for a moment, making you think that maybe, just maybe, he’ll drop it. 

“I know what ketosis means, chef.” You hate him a little bit for catching on. You were so sure you were flying under the radar, you could’ve kept your habits unnoticed if you had just not fainted again.

“Well, like I said, I skipped breakfast. I didn’t have time this morning.” 

“Then why didn’t you eat family with us instead?” He insists.

“Because-“ 

“Why aren’t you eating, chef?” 

You know he’s just concerned, as your boss, he can’t have you passing out at work so much. But you also can’t help the irritation that rises in you at his persistence. 

“Fuck you, Carmen,” is all you can come back with, and he scoffs. “I felt weird intruding on family when I never eat with you guys normally. There. I’m sorry me not eating this one time got in the way of my job, it won’t happen again.” You try to explain, but you already know he’ll see through that.  

“One time, along with the other time you fainted out back, and all the times you’ve refused to even taste a new dish we’re tryin’ out.” Your head snaps up, and you finally take a real look at him, taken aback by the fact that he would even be bothered to remember all that. He meets your irritation with nothing but softness in his eyes. “Talk to me.” He pleads. 

You can’t take it. You tear up again, wanting, needing to fight against the temptation to tell him everything because, God, you don’t know how much more you can take. 

“I can’t.” There’s no hiding your emotion anymore, your voice thick with tears. “Carmy- I- I can’t take it.” 

“Take what?” He asks, his voice still gentle.

“Any of it!” You’re full on sobbing now, desperately trying to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. 

“Hey,” He almost coos, standing to move closer to your bed and wrapping his arms around you, bringing your head to rest on his firm chest, and you let him. You don’t object when his hand moves to pet the back of your head while you gasp for breath through your sobs, and he doesn’t object when your hands land on his back, clinging to the white t-shirt under his coat and relishing in the warmth radiating from him. 

He doesn’t push you to say more. He holds you while you calm down, your breath evening out eventually, enough to speak straight. 

“I can’t tell you, Carmy.” You finally say, practically whimpering. “I can’t get the help you’ll want me to get, because- I can’t stop. I don’t know how, I- I don’t know another way anymore.” 

He doesn’t reply, at first, taking in a deep breath while he lets your words hang in the air. 

“Okay.” He says quietly. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” You’re relieved at his acquiescence. You don’t think you can take fighting with your boss on top of everything else you have going on. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. 

“Can I ask you to promise me something?” He continues, making you pause, before nodding hesitantly. “Let me look out for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, just- don’t keep going at it alone. You’ll just end up back here again. Or, y’know, half-breathing and unconscious in the back alley of my restaurant. Trust me, I know.” 

You contemplate his words for a bit. You know he’s right, and you know you don’t want to end up in the hospital again. And maybe you owe him this one thing, for being here, for not pushing you like you expected him to, for not firing you after you interrupted his whole day with your bullshit. 

“Okay,” You say. “I promise.” He breathes what you think is a sigh of relief, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You stay like that for a little while longer, silent except for the beeping EKG machine and your occasional sniffle. 

“You’re freezing, you know that?” He says suddenly, and it makes you giggle; you haven’t held anyone close in a while, not long enough for them to notice you’re always cold to the touch. You know he’s smiling too, feeling his lips against your hair. 

“Lookin’ out for me might mean letting me borrow this jacket every once in a while.” 

“I’m okay with that.”

[njere]

Lifeline

[viviraptor-art]

after their loss in battle city, two former champions take a moment to confide in each other.

i've always wondered how a relationship between these two would pan out behind the scenes... would they already consider themselves "friends" once battle city rolls around, or still just fellow duelists? either way, weevil doesn't seem to care much for personal space.

bonus close-up and sketch under the cut:

(the emote i drew beside them really speaks for itself)

[shrimshrim4fun]

Could you maybe do Jinhsi with a fem! S/O whos the sister of Scar and Phrolova but she isnt on their side🥺

Guiding Light: Jinhsi

Note: I hope she’s not OOC and I didn’t know if you wanted a fic or like headcanons so I put it kinda like a fic

Warnings: slight angst

“Are you alright you seem a bit uneasy” she asked as she noticed your hand tighten around hers a little as you guys walked down the busy street on Jinzhou. “Oh it’s nothing” you smile slightly as she noticed your slight discomfort. She didn’t press on the question anymore but she knew something was wrong. People almost always whisper behind your back as you walked down the streets. Your hair white with slight streaks of red in it similar to your brother, Scar. Being the sibling of the two famous criminals isn’t something to be proud of or that’s what you thought. Children would sometimes look at you with scared expression, their parents telling them the big bad tales of your siblings evil doings.

“I’m gonna head back” you murmur softly your voice filled with doubt and slight discomfort as you saw more stares and murmurs from the people in the streets. “Alright I’ll come with you,” she nods. “You really don’t have-” “Don’t worry about it, it’s gonna get dark soon too,” her voice soft yet firm. You sigh, knowing it was only an excuse that you couldn’t agree against. As you guys got home to your cozy little house she notices how your shoulder slumped a little more than usual. “Would you like some herbal tea?” She offered as you sat on the couch. “Yes please” you smile. After a few minutes she hands you a cup. “Thank you,” you murmur as you take the cup and sipping from it. “Is there anything you would like to talk about?” She asked. Your hands froze before muttering “It’s nothing big.” “My dear, it can be the littlest things but to me it’s everything,” she tells you firmly.

You place the cup down onto the table before hugging her. A soft smile on her lips as she hugs you back. “There’s something on your mind and I hope you don’t mind sharing what it is.” You hesitate for a second before murmuring against the crook of her neck “Do you find me scary?” “Scary? My god your divine, I love you more than anything you can imagine.” Her hands gently comb through your hair as she softly hums. “No matter who your family is, I know you wont betray me. I sometimes think I know you better than yourself,” she gently teased. “You proabably do.” You murmur in agreement as you hug her tighter. “The past is something that will always haunt you forever, but in the dark I promise you’ll find a light to guide your way. I’ll always be here for you, your guiding light.”

Ending Note: I hope you enjoyed :D For the people pulling for her I hope you win your 50/50’s >< If you want headcanons just interact with my inbox :)

[infaethible]

if anyone kknows the tweet this is referencing im kissing u btw

[shrimp-dumpling]

Made something stupid after remembering Eksval (my commandant oc) is still human and therefore cant live forever with the Gray Ravens lol

Item context:

He'll eventually die, he's still just a human. Eventually, some time later, the Gray Raven's won't have him as their commandant anymore.

He doesn't know if they think about it, he prefers they don't. He doesn't like them worrying about the inevitable, especially if its about him.

Of course, the Gray Ravens had never thought about it. Life without their commandant, someone they've bonded so closely with.

Its been a while. Tides and fights are getting desperate and busy enough to distract them from forming such thoughts.

During his rare amounts of spare time, bit by bit, he made a little toy. 3 gray ravens on a raised platform. When you touch their heads, they bob, and then go back up.

It also served as a camera of sorts, to record moments and preserve them.

It was a simple device, really. Eksval had also decided to color the gray ravens' eyes to match the Gray Raven members' main colors.

He goes to the debriefing room and attaches it on a shelf, making sure no one will steal it. He taps the head of the one with blue eyes, and as expected, it bowed.

Smiling in satisfaction that it was working properly, he leaves the room and goes off to tend to his business.

The ravens' eyes glowed in the dark. For now, there was nothing to record.

But one day, those records will be the only thing left of the commandant, a reminder of his existence to the Gray Ravens.

Item description:

A recording device made by a certain commandant. On a small, raised platform, stood three gray ravens. The ravens seems to represent the members of the Gray Ravens, though it was only evident due to the eye colors.

There was not a fourth raven though, signifying that the certain commandant who made it did not last. Or atleast, not permanently.

Engraved on the raised platform were the words "Gray Raven", as if it wasn't obvious enough that it belonged to them.

SLIGHTLY modified (as in i changed the numbers) song cuz i suddenly thought about it while making this (no eksval does not die it was all just a nightmare totally haha):

4 birds on a wire— (the gray ravens stood next to each other, contented and happy)

3 tried to fly, away, and the other— (missions took place, battles were inevitable. Due to this, the contructs had to leave and fight)

watches them close from that wire.. (the commandant watched over them, making sure nothing went wrong. It was his job to make sure they come back together.)

He says he wants to as well- (the commandant eventually joins their mission on the surface, even if it was dangerous. He tells them to not worry and that he'll be fine by their side,)

But he is a liar. (but it's not like he was the most honest man either.)

I'll believe it all— (even if the Gray Ravens were skeptical, especially Lee, they still choose to believe their commandant on his words)

There's nothing I won't understand (afterall, why would their commandant need to lie? Surely theres a reason for everything. The Gray Ravens trust their commandant.)

I'll believe it all (they trust his judgement, they believe in him.)

I won't let go of your hand (they wont let go of him, and he won't let go of them too. He'll continue guiding them, the sweet ducklings he has raised)

4 birds on a wire... (and once more, they were back together)

3 say 'come on', and the 4th said 'im tired..' (they had a mission coming up. They waited for their commandant but he didn't appear. Celia informs them that due to complications, the commandant couldn't go with them.)

The sky's overcast, (The sky hasn't been blue, not for a while now. Though they do wonder why it was cloudy, it was a little rare for it to be cloudy.)

And im sorry. (Celia couldn't tell them. No one could tell them what happened. They're so sorry.)

-

-

-

4 birds of a feather, say that they're always gonna stay together (it was a promise made. An empty one that Eksval felt sorry for.)

But one's never going to let go of that wire. (he was only human. As much as he was a great commandant, he was only human. He will always just be human.)

He says that he will, (promises are made, promises are broken. Eksval was never the most honest man afterall.)

But he's just a liar. (and yet, it still hurt when he broke that promise.)

("Tell me, was it such a crime to love you?")

[buck-up-buck]

In this post right here I made some crazy predictions about the next four episodes of 9-1-1.

Now I am not saying that they are all correct, BUT I SLAYED the first part legitimately. I fully predicted that Bobby would first meet the Burn Unit Nurse in the hospital after dropping a patient off.

*as per this still we were blessed with today*

NOW, I also predicted a full blown revenge era on behalf of the Burn Unit Nurse which I think we can gather is going to happen thanks to the sneak peek of him chatting to Maddie, I’m assuming nearing the end of the episode.

“The only person responsible is the driver. The rest of us are just cleaning up his mess.”

NOW, I am going to rightfully assume that it was in fact HIM who was in the fire (hence the burns) BUT, I also stand by the fact that he lost someone in that fire. A fiancé or a wife, this is my guess, as per my original post. I am using the line in which he says-

“Although there’ll be days when she probably wished she hadn’t (survived)”

Because it’s one thing surviving something like that fire, but to have lost someone in it too while recovering…

ANYWAY-

My upcoming theories are as follows, take them with a pinch of salt because they may seem very AO3 of me, but I was right about the above so, who knows, right? RIGHT?!

1. Maddie potentially talks about the 118 and their involvement in the accident, triggering something in the nurse to potentially target Buck… again, THIS IS VERY FAR FETCHED BUT YA GURL HAS BEEN DREAMING ABOUT BUCKS LOFT BURNING DOWN SINCE 2019 OKAY, LET ME DREAM.

2. Bobby recognises the Nurse but doesn’t know where from, and the nurse choices not to tell him he knows who he is.

3. We get a flashback of some sort when he see’s Bobby walking into the hospital with the Baby. Either from Bobby or the Nurse, OR a flashback in general triggered by either seeing one or the other.

4. In next week’s episode, Bobby tries to ask him for forgiveness and they have a massive argument. This could potentially be the conflict that Kenneth mentioned Bobby gets into in Episode 8.

5. Athena is worried about Bobby’s involvement with the Nurse and warns him, because she a protective QUEEN.

Anyway… am I crazy or a psychic? You decide.

[beelsbignaturals]

AN: I was gonna make this a whole thing but i only finished Lucifer's part. If anyone likes this and wants to see other charas, lmk!

TW: CHARACTER DEATH (nothing graphic.), ASSISTED SU!CIDE, MAiD, angst.

When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth

It's not something you try to think about. It just happens. Having a family history of Dementia tends to make one wary of aging. It's heartbreaking to watch, and you don't want to deal with that. Understandably. But time is cruel, and after much thought, you ask that when the time comes, your lover gives you one final gift. A quick, peaceful end. None of this lingering agony as you forget everyone you ever cared for, as your body fails you.

"What's on your mind, my dear?"

Gaze fixed on the crackling fire, you explain your fears. Afraid that if you look at Lucifer it'll break your resolve. You feel like a monster asking him to do this. But who else can you trust to end your suffering?

He doesn't dare interrupt. Only when he's sure you have said all you need to does Lucifer speak.

"I'd like to discuss things further. If this is what you truly want…as much as it pains me, I will respect your wishes. But this is not set in stone. You will always have the freedom to change your mind."

You agree that things can change, you might not feel the same way one day. But the added security of knowing that if it gets bad, you won't suffer is reassuring.

Annually the two of you sit down and talk about your current thoughts on the topic. As the years turn to decades Lucifer can't hide his tears. But he knows he can't say no. Not to you.

When the day finally comes, he asks you once more. Are you really sure?

You just smile and nod. It's time.

"Allow me to make a final request myself."

Lucifer takes your wrinkled hand in his and offers you one last dance.

It doesn't matter if your frail body prevents you from moving as gracefully as you once did. It doesn't even matter if you can't hold your own weight. Lucifer is strong enough for both of you.

This dance with death doesn't last nearly long enough for his taste.

But all good things must end and Lucifer fulfills his promise.

"Thank you for giving me the honor of knowing you." One last kiss to the top of your head. Then it's over.

Lucifer sets you down gently, as if you'd break from a gust of wind. He whispers promises, despite the fact you're already gone. Promises that you will always be remembered. Even when civilization collapses, long after the sun has died. He will always love you.

[shrimpwritings]

TADC: Keys

Jax had keys everywhere, and everyone had been fine.

There were so many keys in his room and blueprints of the circus that he tried to make sense of, and yet none belonged to him. Well, that was a lie. They were his, but…not originally.

Read Here

[inkbot-art]

just some nerve damage

draw for yourself, they say. well myself thought "what if Boims had a horrifying badass scar from that spear"

[ambrosialsyrup]

Part 2: As Your Lover - Headcanons

Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, OOC?, and not proof-read.

Fandom: The Tale of Food

Summary: He loves you. You love him. What more needs to be said?

Notes: I have no excuses for the extremely late update other than procrastination and lack of motivation. It is out now though! I’ll write the “dating/about to kiss but not gonna kiss (or maybe they will?)” for all three of them and post them at a later date. Also sorry for switching out Meng with Longjing, my brain hit a dead end and jumped ship. Now to decide between angst or prompt requests…eh, I’ll figure it out later.

✧—Squirrel Fish

A silent vow. 

❥ From the moment he took off his mask in front of you, that was his promise, his oath, to protect and love you until the day he fades away. At first he tried to push you away, feeling that he was inadequate to stay by your side. Squirrel Fish, a dish meant to bring delight but only brought death upon others instead. With hands stained in blood, he wished not to dirty you with it. A Food Soul unworthy of staying in Kongsang, unworthy of you.

❥ And yet you told him to stay.

❥ Time and time again you told him he was needed. That he wasn’t a monster. That he was loved…by you. And for once in his worthless life, Squirrel Fish felt that he wasn’t just a murderer but instead, a Food Soul who simply loved you. A Food Soul who finally found his meaning in life other than killing and disposing of lives.

❥ Squirrel Fish is very devoted to your every whim. Be it as simple as asking for a drink of water, you’ll definitely find him standing in front of you seconds later with a glass of water in his hands offering it to you. Or maybe you want him to cuddle with you? Ah…if that’s the case then please tell him ahead of time Angel…he needs to prepare himself.

❥ Pet name wise he doesn’t have much variety. In fact, there are only two names that he calls you. Master and Angel, one out of respect for your position and the other out of pure love. And also because he got told off by some of your more romance inclined Food Souls to call you something more endearing than just Master.

❥ Dates are…pretty awkward as Squirrel Fish doesn’t have any experience whatsoever in the field of dating. Assassination? Yes. But a date was meant to be a fun, enjoyable time spent with a romantic partner (at least that’s what he learned from the books Geely Shrimp gave him). That’s why he lets you take the lead and does whatever you want to do that date. But he does have a preference for simple dates inside Kongsang on the farm or in your room where you two are just knitting something together. He’s happy with whatever you’re happy with.

❥ He loves you. He loves you dearly to the point that even if he were to fade away someday. Squirrel Fish was certain that his love for you would remain. However, that doesn’t stop him from recognizing you as the Master of Kongsang. Someone who maintains order over more than a hundred Food Souls and manages a restaurant at the same time. You who has your own duties and hardships, some you can tell to him and some you can’t. That’s fine, whatever it is, Squirrel Fish knows you can’t always be with him. He won’t be selfish and ask that you stay by him always.

❥ But…he’ll do his best to stay by your side, if you allow him, on whatever path you choose to tread.

❥ If you ever need someone to lend you a shoulder to cry on, he’ll be there. Squirrel Fish may not be the best comforter or the best with words or actually anything involving normal emotional interactions…but he promises he’ll always be there for you. No matter what, even if he still feels like he doesn’t deserve you, he’ll be there with you until the end.

✧—Longjing Shrimp

A bet with eternity.

❥ An unexpected romance that only some could see coming. It neither started with a confession nor an overly exaggerated proclamation of love. Instead, it began with a silent agreement and gentle kiss over a cup of tea. A quieter love than most would like to have but a love Longjing gave wholeheartedly.

❥ Who fell for the other first? It’s a question many of the residents of Kongsang started to ponder after you two got together. Actually, even finding out that the two of you were a couple was a task in itself. It wasn’t obvious as Longjing rarely, if ever, shared his affection to you openly or at least to the point that they’re noticeable to the untrained eye.

❥ A lingering touch to your hand, a soft glance in your direction, or a faint smile appearing on his lips whenever you’re near. That’s the most he’ll do in public. He reserves the more intimate and private parts of your relationship with him when you’re both alone. His fan hiding his intentions and love for you put aside when the only company that remains is you and him.

❥ He isn’t great at giving compliments, much less flirting or being a lover. Expressed affection is something Longjing knows not of, much less is capable of properly giving it to you. But he is…attempting to learn in certain ways. Longjing will never be the best at showing his love for you openly, not in public or in private unless the time is right, that’s simply not him. His words are sharp and his compliments sparse but for you…he’ll try to improve.

❥ Doubt not his love and fear not his eyes, he’s only like this due to his inexperience in such a relationship.

❥ Dates with Longjing Shrimp tread the line between “date” and “learning”. The most common “dates” between the two of you are merely conversations over tea as he teaches you about the different methods and leaves. Occasionally he’ll show you his stamp collection or suddenly offer you a “riddle” of sorts and expect you to give him the correct answer. If you don’t answer…that’s fine too. It gives him more time to spend with you so he’ll let you off. Hm? A scheme to spend more time with you? Hmph, don’t push your luck (The reddening of his ears gives him away though..).

❥ Longjing Shrimp has recently discovered that maybe treating you more tenderly during those “dates” would provide a more intimate experience for the two of you. Now it’s just a process of getting there but he has upgraded to having your favorite snacks prepared ahead of time before you arrive.

❥ That doesn’t mean his love for you can’t be passionate though. In fact, despite what his cold demeanor shows, his love is far too passionate. He wants to kiss you, he wants to hold you. The supposedly cold and strict Food Soul wants nothing more than to spend everyday with you and you alone. A love that threatens to devour you from head to toe but restrains itself in acknowledgement for your position and his own lack of knowledge in emotional matters.

❥ That’s why even pet names are troublesome for Longjing. You are free to call him whatever you like, as long as it’s reasonable, but him? That’s…not something he had ever expected to think about much less do for a partner. In all honesty, he’s never once though of having a lover, someone he could share his thoughts with intimately, until you came along.

❥ That’s why, even now, he still has yet to give you a pet name. Not because he doesn’t love you but partly out of embarrassment and partly because he believes no pet name would be able to fully express his love for you.

❥ So until the day comes where such a thing arises and Longjing’s able to properly show his feelings for you…he’ll call you by name.

❥ People have admired him, people have gossiped about him, people have desired him, and never once did Longjing spare them a passing glance. That’s why…you’re his first and last partner. While he may not be able to provide you with a thrilling romance or overdramatic gestures of love, Longjing Shrimp can provide you a safe haven to turn to whenever your need; for all of eternity.

✧— Buddha’s Temptation

All for you.

❥ Buddha’s Temptation never expected for this to happen. For his love for you to be reciprocated; to be accepted by you who he had been yearning for dearly. He had planned to run far far away, to a place even the gods could not reach, so that he’d never have to face you with this emotion of his. The ugly yet beautiful emotion called love.

❥ Buddha’s Temptation has admired many things, people, and sceneries but never once has he ever truly loved someone. He’s dreamed of it, yes, longing for such an experience. The engulfing passion that comes with the emotion called love. And when he did experience it, he experienced all of it. The burning, the yearning, and the sense of loss he felt when he realized you were the one who caused him to feel it.

❥ It’s not your fault. It’s his for not keeping his feelings in check. Fushou didn’t want to trouble you, not when you have numerous other Food Souls to worry about. This…this desire of his was far to strong to keep contained, a dangerous need for you attention, for your love. He feared your rejection, your hate, and your look of disgust towards him for having such wants. That was why he wanted to run away, pack his belongings and all the necessities he would need before he left your sight for good.

❥ But in a single night, you demolished all his plans with three simple words. The words Buddha’s Temptation longed to hear from you and the words he kept to himself for your sake. And never before in his long life had he ever been happier than the day you told him “I love you”. Looks like he can’t run away now, not when you look at him with such determined eyes.

❥ Haha…Butterfly…you’ll take responsibility for him, won’t you?

❥ Buddha’s Temptation absolutely adores pet names of the nickname he had for you before the relationship became official wasn’t obvious. He still keep its, naturally, how could he get rid of it? But it felt unjust for it to be the only one so another had to be made. “Butterfly” and “My Star” were the ones that were decided upon with help from Goldie.

❥ Being in a relationship with Buddha’s Temptation feel like an enchanting dream pulling you deeper and deeper into it. Sweeting nothings whispered in your ear, eyes filled with adoration whenever he sees you, and gentle kisses across your face. Never once touching your lips until he whisks you away to a private location for only you and him.

❥ Dates with him are whatever you like them to be. As long as no other Food Souls are around, he’s simply content with you being by his side. Be it accompanying you for a grocery trip in the Qing Dynasty or going to an extravagant jewelry shop and buying whichever piece catches your eye. Actually no, scratch that, he’ll order you a custom made one so that no other can wear it. Ah…and a matching one for him as well.

❥ So long as he’s able to take even a second of your time, that’s good enough for him (or at least that’s what he tells himself whenever he sees you being taken away from another).

❥ He pays attention to your every need, has enough money to last for a lifetime, and despite how often he charms people with his honeyed words and looks. There’s nothing in the world he loves more than you, yes, even the very embodiment of beauty could not stand up against you. Then again…you would be the very embodiment of all that is beautiful in the world in his eyes. But to be clear, Buddha’s Temptation love and adoration is dedicated to you and you alone.

❥ However…there are a few flaws he’d like to ignore about himself but simply can’t.

❥ By accepting his love, you’re also accepting the feelings he considers ugly alongside it. Jealously, envy, sadness, all the emotions that used to not come easily to him until he met you. Feelings he kept covered with a smile and a lie of admiration. Or perhaps it was the truth that he admired you first before falling? Or did he fall for you and confuse it for admiration?

❥ None of that changes the fact he loves you.

❥ Desperately, dearly, and to the point of death Buddha’s Temptation loves you. He is a jealous man and a clingy one to boot. Hell randomly appear beside you and hold your hand while giving his most charming smile to whoever you’re talking to despite how obvious the jealously contained in his eyes is.

❥ He knows it’s ugly of him to want you only to himself. You’re the Master of Kongsang first before you’re his lover. A fact he painfully acknowledges no matter how much it hurts him to. Buddha’s Temptation knows the envy he feels towards the other Food Souls are childish but it’s something that just won’t go away.

❥ Love truly does bring with it such troublesome emotions but for your smile…he’ll endure them. You’re free to scold and hit him if— no — when you find out about this. About his jealously. Please do, he doesn’t want such a beautiful emotion to be stained by his repulsive wants. He doesn’t want to stain you.

❥ But alas, that’s the beauty of love isn’t it? An ever changing emotion different from person to person. But do rest assured Butterfly, his love for you will never fade.

[aliensupastar]

i wouldn’t ask you

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You try to break your promise. Carmy won’t let you. Follow-up to “shouldn’t feel like a crime”

Part I Part II

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food issues, heart-to hearts, arguments, swearing

A/N: once again, thank y'all so much for the love on parts one and two of this fic, it brings me so much joy!! also, im terribly sorry for how long it took to write this. school happened and i think it got away from me a little bit, i did a lot of rewrites, and it's shorter than i'd like it to be but it’s something i’m finally satisfied with, and i hope you guys enjoy it! to anyone who’s sent me asks, left comments or replies telling me they connected with this fic, i hope it continues to bring you comfort as it has for me. i can’t express to you enough how much all your responses have meant to me. this will be the last part for this lil series, but im grateful to anyone who’s read n supported it. title insp by "i wouldn’t ask you" by clairo, gif by riickgrimes <3

Logically, you know that healing — if that’s what you could call what you were trying to do — isn’t linear. You’ve heard it a thousand times, and on some level, you know it’s true. Knowing it doesn’t stop the shame you feel when you start skipping the train, opting instead to walk, or on shittier days, run to work. 

At first you thought you’d been able to escape the anxiety that came with eating anything you didn’t know the exact calorie count of, that you’d been able to eat Carmy’s spaghetti without complication. In retrospect, it had merely been delayed, the calm and warmth afforded to you by Carmy’s presence wearing off as soon as you’d gotten into bed that night; you’d laid awake for another hour, paralyzed by your own panic. 

The only solution you found fit was to force yourself into physical activity, making your travel to and from work ten times more miserable, waking up an hour and a half earlier than usual just to get to the restaurant on time and still have ten minutes to freshen up and change into your uniform. You at least managed to make the change in your routine go unnoticed, still looking presentable once it was time to open for service, or at least you thought so. 

“Did you run here?” Sydney asks one morning, spotting you right as you clocked in and rushed to your locker to pull out your uniform. 

“Uh, yeah, I did.” You’re a little too breathless to come up with an excuse, to properly deflect her concern and surprise. 

“Okay…” She watches as you shove your other belongings into the locker space haphazardly. “Does that, like, happen often, or-“

“No,” You say, too quickly, shaking your head. “Just, uh, don’t tell Carmy?” 

You look up at her, eyes pleading, hoping she accepts this one request without question, hoping she can disregard something just this one time. 

“Tell Carmy what?” Hearing your boss’s voice makes you jump in shock, as he comes around the corner and spots you, hair messy and sweat still dripping down your temple. 

Your skill for being unnoticeable is escaping you, that much is clear. You’re essentially caught red-handed, a deer in headlights, eyes bouncing between Sydney and Carmy as you struggle to come up with something, anything to respond with. But Sydney swoops in just seconds after you freeze, granting you mercy, this one time. 

“Tell you to mind your own business, chef,” She says, her tone light-hearted so that you know to force out a laugh, and Carmy takes it. He gives a half-smile and shakes his head, heading over to his prep station and as soon as he’s out of sight, you look back at Sydney. 

“Thank you,” You whisper as you head for the bathroom, uniform in hand, and she nods, still looking concerned but thankfully, dropping it. 

Carmy’s the one who won’t drop it. It stays on his mind all day, even after you’ve changed clothes and fixed your hair and erased any trace of the mess you looked that morning; every free moment he has, he spends thinking of you. 

He wants to believe that you’d simply missed your train. An innocent, easy mistake. But the way you avoid meeting his eyes during service hours, no matter how many times he tries to get your attention, or get you to just look at him and confirm that you’re okay, tells him it’s more than that. 

He rushes through closing duties that night, just to make sure he’s good to leave before you finish closing up the front with Richie. He waits, sits in his office chair pretending to be busy until he sees you heading for the lockers, ready to clock out, and then moves to lean as casually as possible against the doorway. 

“You want a ride home?” He asks, interrupting you as you pull clothes out from the locker; the clothes you were wearing this morning, he realizes, a sweatshirt and biker shorts. Like you expect to break a sweat on the way home, too. 

“Nope. Thank you, chef, I’m good.” You barely even look over at him as you say it, and Carmy has to stop himself from making a face, making his displeasure visible. 

“I really don’t mind,” He tries again, but you just close your locker door and shake your head, ready — and desperate — to change out of your uniform in the bathroom before it’s time to lock up. You put on what you hope is an easy smile, but it comes off tense.

“I’m okay, Carm, really. It’s not like it’s raining-“

“Chef,” He interrupts you, suddenly stern. “C’mon.” 

He nods his head motioning for you to follow him, and it’s clear from his tone that there will be no room to argue. 

You trail behind him while he locks up, and on the way out to his car, you can feel that frustration building up inside you again. The same resentment and irritation you felt in the hospital, when he wouldn’t take your bullshit excuses in the same way that nurse or your other coworkers would, it rises and rises till you’re gripping your backpack strap a little too tight and shutting the car door a little too hard. 

You’re grateful, at the very least, that he says nothing when tears start to spill out and down your face as he drives you home. 

You sit in silence for a minute when Carmy pulls into your building’s parking lot. You can’t bring yourself to leave at first, part of you still craving to savor his presence for as long as you can, even if the other part of you is too angry to even look at him. 

“You wanna talk?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope.” His question is enough to set you off, pushing the car door open and furiously wiping away your tears as you haul yourself out. 

Logically, Carmy knows it might be best to leave you alone for tonight. Let you calm down and attempt reconciliation tomorrow morning. Knowing it doesn’t stop the feeling that he can’t just leave you alone, and let you walk away upset. 

“Hey,” He calls out, opening his own door and moving to follow you. “C’mon-“

“Fuck you, Carmen.” You spit out. 

He’s undeterred, even if you don’t turn back to face him once, refusing to acknowledge him tailing you the entire way up to your apartment. 

You don’t tell him to leave you alone, to stop following you, to fuck off. You don’t even slam your front door in his face like he half-expects you to. Instead it hangs open as you storm into your living room, a silent invitation. An invitation Carmy doesn’t hesitate to accept, stepping through your door and carefully closing it behind him. 

He’s still wracking his brain on what to say, clueless on how to stop the tears flowing down your face as you toss your backpack down and meekly lower yourself to sit on the floor between your couch and the coffee table, knees pulled into your chest. 

“Will you just fuckin’ talk to me?” He finds himself pleading with you again after a minute, but his helplessness in the face of your distress makes his words come out callous, and you just scoff. 

“Don’t be a dickhead, Carmy.”

“I’m a dickhead? I-I’m the dickhead, for giving a fuck?” You lift your head to glare at him, and you can see that he wants to match your anger; all the tell-tale signs of an upcoming screaming match appearing in his features, scrunching up his face as he repeats your words back to you, and you know you’re not being fair. You promised him you’d let him in, allow him to help stop you from going off the deep end again, and yet you’re the one resisting him. You wish he’d let the frustration on his face overtake him, walk out your door and leave you alone with your mind. 

He doesn’t, no matter how much you will him to. His eyes meet your own, filled with misplaced ire, and all he does is lean his head back and sigh, running a hand over his face and forcing himself to curtail the urge to give in to your bait. 

“You don’t wanna talk, I’ll talk,” He starts tentatively, before saying maybe the last thing you’d expect: “I’m sorry.” 

Your narrowed eyes widen, the contempt in them turning to pure shock, but he barely notices. 

“I didn’t mean to- if I went too far, the other day, with the spaghetti. I didn’t mean to set you off like that. I’m sorry.” The absolute sincerity in his voice as he apologizes for something you know isn’t on him — it’s too much. 

You’d love to pass the blame off on somebody else. If you could find a single other person to hold accountable for causing the near-constant state of discomfort that you’ve been stuck in for weeks, the distress of living in your own body, you think you’d jump at the chance. But you can’t bring yourself to do it to the one person who’s offered to take the fault away from you, because even now, after you’ve lashed out at him, he’s deliberately gentle with you. 

You can see Carmy is ready to move towards your front door, you’ve sat here for too long without giving him a response, weeping silently. And maybe that would be the right thing to do after breaking your promise, letting him worry over you till he thinks he’s the one who owes you an apology. But selfishly, you reach up and grasp his arm before he can even turn to leave, gently tugging him down to sit with you, and he lets you. 

“I’m sorry,” You start once he’s settled next to you, your voice still thick with tears. “I know what we talked about in the hospital. I haven’t been- I fucked all that up, I know, I’m sorry.” He’s shaking his head, looking like he wants to refute you, but you continue on.

“I just… I’m so fucking scared,” You nearly choke on your words, but it’s a relief to get them out, and suddenly you can’t stop the rest from spilling from your mouth. “I’m scared of getting better. I can’t stand the thought of it, I don’t even- I don’t know what I’d be for, if I wasn’t like this all the time. And it’s fucking embarrassing. That’s all I feel, all the time, just- constant fear, and shame. I can’t fucking stop myself.” 

You take a pause, doing your best to breathe deep and avoid Carmy’s intent gaze, so you don’t lose your nerve.

“We were good, for a bit, and I wasn’t so… out of control. But then I fucked it, and I-I couldn’t just, tell you. Felt like, for once there was someone who understood, and I just wanted to keep the rest of it out of sight, I guess.” 

It’s the most you’ve expressed to anyone about this. You think maybe you’ve gone too far, that maybe now you’ll have alienated the one person you’ve been honest with in years. But when you finally look up at Carmy, he’s nodding thoughtfully, no trace of judgment or pity in his expression. 

“I don’t.” He says carefully. “I don’t really understand. I-I don’t think I could, uh-” He pauses, clasping one hand over the other tightly, like it pains him to force his words out, too. “I guess, growin’ up, food was basically a love language. It was how I bonded with Mikey, it’s why I wanted to do this job in the first place. So, to avoid food… I don’t think I can imagine what that’s like.” 

All you can do is nod. You shouldn’t have made him listen to you vent your emotions, you should’ve let him walk out your door-

“But, I’d like to try. If that’s what you want.” He says, interrupting your spiral. “I just need to know you’re safe. Shutting me out like this – it’s bullshit. I’m not gonna just- stop caring. Even if it’s ugly. Just don’t shut me out.” 

His earnestness practically shoots you in the chest, filling you with that warm, familiar feeling that usually comes with his presence. You want to push against it, you haven’t earned it back, it’s too damn much.

“Even if I… end up in the hospital again?” You say, trying to keep your tone light, but you can’t keep the pleading out of your voice. 

“I’d drive you to the hospital a hundred times.” Carmy replies, completely genuine, and now you can’t push back against the urge to throw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, on the hard floors of your living room, arms tight around each other, breathing together. All you know is that you don’t want him to leave; he makes no move to go. 

a few people asked to be tagged on this part, so here you go! @rexorangecouny @moonlight-sonata99 @kpopgirlbtssvt

[fragrantpines]

Longjing's kisses are like spring rain, cold to the touch but come abundantly. They never last longer than a few seconds but if you were brave enough to pull him in for another, he doesn't hesitate to return the favor by tenfold, kissing you so passionately until the only thing you can think of is the overwhelming scent of tea that lingered on your lips after each kiss and the intense look in his eyes every time he pulled away.

"Breathe," he reminds you, allowing you a brief moment to catch your breath before he mercilessly captures your lips again, not allowing a word of protest to slip out of your mouth as he pours all his love into each individual kiss that he presses onto your lips. 

And if you ever doubt his love for you again, all he would have to do is show you how much he loves you again. 

[moe-broey]

Also something that's fucking me up actually. Nothing of huge note is said in Tana/Peony duo's bio, but the associated characters...... they're all either someone's brother or in Eirika's case, someone whose brother is extremely significant to her esp as her twin

And. That paralogue dialogue again.

I am. So. I'm. This HAS to be intentional WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lonelyshrimp-art]

"Under different circumstances, we could have been great rivals... or perhaps even friends..."

"I wonder why we couldn't have met a few years earlier"