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Blood Orange (Ch 1: The Walk-In)
Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)
Rating: E (7.3k words)
links: fic playlist, pinterest board, ao3 link, ch 2
Summary: Losing your job is the worst thing to ever happen to you. Getting hired by Carmen Berzatto is a close second. You tell yourself that The Beef is only temporary, that it's just a replacement until you find something better. It doesn't work. You've stopped listening. You've had a taste of Carmy, and now you don't think you're ever gonna be able to let go. No matter how bad it gets.ย
Content Tags: secret workplace relationship/sex, friends/coworkers with benefits, they/them afab reader, miscommunication, mental illness (carmy and reader), dom/sub dynamics, dom carmy (for now), enemies to friends to lovers (eventually), unhealthy coping mechanisms, dysfunctional relationship
A/N: It's finally here! New series! We even get sex in the first chapter! In my other fic, I'm taking care of Carmy. In this one, I'm making him worse. Of course, here's a disclaimer that I DONโT condone or intend to glorify any of this behavior. It's just compelling to write. Enjoy!
You return to The Beef for the first time in years when you're at your lowest.
The only upside to this abysmal situation is that the job was shitty. The job you just got laid off from, to be exact. Retail was never your passion, and there's a certain relief in knowing you don't have to go back to that windowless place. You didn't play an important role in the ecosystem, but it played a pretty crucial role in yours. It kept a roof over your head.
You're sure you couldโve sued them in some fashion for letting you go without any warning, any parachute, but you didn't have the luxury of time. You needed to figure out how you were going to pay rent, and fast.
After the rage boiled over (not to say that it's resolved, the residual anger's leveled into an even simmer), you pulled your hair back, found your cleanest, nicest outfit, and started your job search. With your updated resume in hand and scuffed sneakers on your feet, you've trekked all over Chicago looking for a new job. You weren't optimistic, nor were you hopeful.ย
You suppose the only word you could use to describe yourself was desperate, and it was a matter of finding someone that was just as desperate, if not more desperate than you. To put it politely, the odds of that were low. Very low.ย
You got laid off that very morning. The rest of your afternoon has been spent walking from door to door to every establishment you could spot. By some cruel twist of fate, none of them were hiring. The ones that were hiring looked unenthusiastic, even adverse to taking your resume.ย
โWhen would you be able to start?โ Some of the workers asked.ย
โTomorrow,โ was your desperately honest answer.ย
โIf all goes well, you'll hear from us in a week,โ was their response. The unspoken was, of course, the fact that radio silence was more likely than an email or phone call. Places didn't even send rejection letters anymore.ย
โThanks for your time,โ you'd say, bringing out a bright smile from a complete lack of reserves, and as soon as you turned around, your face would drop.ย
Your hopes were low, nearly non-existent, but damn. Damn. It wasn't looking good for you.
That's why you enter The Beef. You vaguely remember visiting this place a couple years ago, back when you first moved to Chicago. The owner wasโฆpretty nice, actually. You don't remember his name, but you remember having a pleasant conversation with him. Of course, there's nothing you can do if he doesn't have a job opening, but it wouldn't be bad to see a friendly face. Even if that face is from someone who's basically a stranger.ย
The doorbell rings when you enter. It catches the attention of the man standing behind the counter, and with how his head jolts up, you'd think the bell functioned as an alarm instead.ย
โWelcome,โ he says. Your first impression, other than the fact that he seems very, very, tired, is that he's irritatingly attractive. If anything, the eyebags and the greased back waves only add to whatever the hell he's got going on.ย
โHi. Umโฆโ You're briefly caught off guard by his biceps, but you catch yourself. โI was actually wondering if you guys were hiring.โ
โWe are,โ he replies, and it's the best thing you've heard all day. He lights up like the spark of a lighter, bright and instantaneous. It doesn't shake the pervasive exhaustion that radiates off him, though.ย
โThank god,โ you mutter, and you want to take it back (it's far too casual), but he cracks an amused smile that makes you want to dissolve like a pinch of salt in a sea of sauce. โSorry. Do you mind if I talk to the owner? We met a while ago, andโโ
โI'm the owner,โ he interrupts, and any other words you had planned fall away.
โSorry?โ You repeat. โI swear it was this guyโhe had short dark hair, I thinkโโ
โYeah, he left the place to me. Didn't want it anymore, so.โ He shrugs. The light you just saw from him has fizzled away like the end of a sparkler, short-lived and ultimately disappointing.ย
โOh. Got it. Uhโฆโ To your credit, you don't fumble for too long. You have a lot of questions, but you've got more pressing issues. You pluck out a resume from a file folder. โHere's my resume, then.โ
He takes it from you, flips it to face him. He's quiet as his eyes lower down the page, and you wonder if it's going to be a guillotine or a pot of gold at the end of this. The only sounds in the entrance are the passing cars outside, the rickety air conditioning, and muffled chatter from the back.ย
โYou worked as a prep cook.โ He says it like a fact, but you know it's a question.ย
โYeah, nothing fancy. Just at some chain restaurants.โ
โRight. I see you worked as a line cook at another location. Which one did you prefer?โ
โUhโฆโ They both came with their separate pains. Your honest answer is that being a line cook was one of the most stressful experiences of your life, but if he has a position open as a line cook, you don't want to fuck it up. โThey were both fine. I think I was a little better as a prep cook, but I didn't mind either.โ
He hums, satisfied by your answer. At least itโs only half of a lie.ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย
โHow do you work under pressure?โ
โGood,โ you answer quickly. โWell enough.โ
โWilling to learn?โ
โObviously. I meanโฆโ You think you see a flash of a smile, but you're unsure. โYeah.โ
โWhen'd you be able to start?โ You're surprised he's already asking this.
โTomorrow,โ you say, just like youโve been, and his reaction is different from the others. He nods. He doesn't smile, not like he did earlier, but you can tell this is a good sign.ย
Before he can get a word out, there's a sharp, metallic explosion of noises that resounds from the direction of the kitchen.ย
โUh,โ he starts, eyebrows pinched in irritation, the voices come in.ย
โI told you, you have to say behind!โ A woman's voice. She sounds young, but there's no real way to be sure of that.
โHow the hell did you not hear me coming?โ A Chicago accent, male. Older, maybe. โI was in the middle of having a conversation with Tinaโโ
โGreat, I'm so happy for you, I don't give a shit, now this has all went to wasteโโ
โWell, who's fault is that?โ
โWho's fault is that? You did not justโโ
โGuys!โ The man you've been talking to gives you an apologetic glance before walking to the back, pushing through the folding doors. You catch a glimpse of the two people arguing on the other side before it shuts. โI'm tryinโ to talk to a new hire here. We can't be like this right now. Not ever, but especially right now.โ
Finally, the first sane person I've met all day, you think.ย
โCarmy, talk some sense into her,โ the older guy shouts, and it gives you a name to the face. โAll of this on the floorโโ
โYou didn't say behind,โ the woman repeats, except with more fury in it this time.
โYou didn't say behind,โ he imitates back. โCarmyโโ
โSheโs right. Richie, step out,โ Carmy says. โSyd, you clean this up.โ
โButโโ You hear her start to protest.ย
โYou spilled it, you clean it,โ he cuts through, decisive and firm.
โI know, but Richieโโ
โClean it,โ he repeats, firmer, darker this time, and there's a beat of silence.ย
โ...Yes, chef.โ
โI told you to step out,โ Carmy tells who you assume is Richie.ย
โYou're just gonna let herโโ
โStep the fuck outside right fucking now!โ Carmy screams, his patience shooting away like a gunshot. You feel something shrivel inside you, and not in a good way. โDo the one fucking thing you're good at and get out of the fucking way!โ
Yeahโฆdefinitely not in a good way.
From what you hear, it sounds like Richie has to get wrestled outside by someone, whom you're not sure. After another minute, Carmy returns to the front.ย
โI'm sorry about that. Fuckingโโ He drags a hand across his face. You swear his eyebags have grown heavier in the 5 minutes he was in the kitchen. โWhat was I saying?โ
โUm, I was saying that I could start tomorrow,โ you remind him, although the vigor you had just stated it with is a bit fizzled out.ย
โRight. Okay. Uhโโ He pats his hands on his apron, searching for something. A pen and paper appear in his hands, and he scribbles something on it. This is when you notice his tattoos. A flower on the back of his hand. Surprising. โYou're hired. Here's the paperwork you need to fill out, along with the number and email you'll be hearing from me at.โ
โWhat?โ You take the sheets, but the smooth paper doesn't feel real in your hands. His handwriting is hasty and dark, like he was running out of time on a test. โI mean, I'm just surprised.โ
โDo you not want it?โ
โI want it,โ you promise, and you feel your cheeks flush. This is a bad time to yet again notice how attractive he is. His pretty eyes, his nose. The little moles under his left eye. โY-Yeah, I want the job.โ
โGood.โ He motions towards the sticky note again. โCome in at 8 am tomorrow. You'll be starting as a prep cook, which you've done before.โ
โOkay. Okay, yeah, I'll be there.โ The reality is setting in now, and an odd cocktail of relief, apprehension, and excitement is settling in your stomach. โThank you so much.โ I just got laid off from my job this morning, so this means a lot, you want to say, but it's too soon. You don't want to say anything that'll make him change his mind about whatever he sees in you.ย
โThank you,โ he echoes back. โWe need the help. I'll see you tomorrow.โ
โSee you,โ you reply, and with that, the door rings behind you. A customer comes up to the counter, peering up at the menu. You figure this is your cue to leave. He's not looking at you anymore anyway.ย
So, I got a job now, you update your friends, texting them on your way home on the metro. As the relieved congratulations come flying in, another remark seems to resound amongst all of them.ย
I can't believe you got the job just like that. That place must be desperate, too, is roughly what they've all said. The thing is, they're not wrong.ย
You managed to find someone more desperate than you in the job economy. Just one, but that was enough. It makes you think, though. You think about Carmy's weary blue eyes, his brief smile, and his hand tattoos. You wonder if it's just the restaurant that gives him that bone-deep exhaustion, or if it's a smaller part of a bigger picture.ย
You think about it for the rest of your commute, you think about it as you smoke on the porch, you think about it as you lay in bed. You think about it as you fill out the paperwork, fingers tracing where Carmy's written his name, number, and email.
Carmen Berzatto
773-555-0901
So Carmy's a nickname, you think. Not about what type of boss he's going to be, not about what it's going to be like working under someone you are obviously attracted to.ย
Maybe you should be more worried about this.
If it's bad, I'll just find another job, you tell yourself, and you foolishly believe it.
. . . . .
Your first day on the job starts with introductions.ย
At least, that's about as much as you've figured out so far. When he sees you upon arrival, he pauses and stares at you like he's forgotten. Not a great start. Granted, he does snap out of it. That's when he tells you to follow him, which is where you currently find yourself. You're not sure where he's leading to, only that he's introducing you to others as you pass them by.
โTheyโre working with us starting today,โ Carmy tells everyone. โTheyโre gonna be on prep.โ
Right. So that's what you'll be doing. At least he told you that much yesterday.
The catalog of coworkers expands exponentially. You remember Sydney from yesterday, and to her credit, she apologizes about having you witness her fight with Richie, who conveniently isn't here yet. She seems the nicest out of all the bunch, so you decide to let it slide.ย
Marcus is pretty nice, too. So are Ebra, Sweeps, Manny, Angelโeveryone seems to be pretty alright. Itโs obvious theyโre standoffish by you being in their space. You find it hard to hold it against them. Youโre not really sure how your relationships with them are going to pan out. There are only three that youโre particularly unsure on.
The first and obvious one is Richie. He came in eventually and didnโt give you the best impression, immediately talking over everyone and oozing arrogance. The only salvageable thing is that heโs not even a chef. At least you wonโt have to be in the kitchen with him much. You want to avoid the honor of talking to him as much as possible.
Tina is next. She clearly doesnโt enjoy having someone new in the ecosystem, and sheโs spent more time ignoring you than talking with you. As you understand it, sheโs close to the rest of the staff since theyโve all been together for a while. Minus you and Syd, as you learn sheโs only been there for a week. You think Tina will warm up to youโฆeventually.
Carmy is the last one, and heโsโฆheโsโฆ
Heโs something else.
He has you doing prep for most of the day. After introducing you to everyone and giving you a brief tour, he brings you to your station, scratched up stainless steel.
โYouโre going to be cutting onions and carrots today for the stock. The vegetables are in the walk-in I showed you earlier, and when itโs done, it goes on the first shelf.โ Carmyโs to your right, set up at his own station. You swear you keep your eyes focused on the vegetables, not his biceps in that shirt, butโฆ โYou should already know this, but label everything. I donโt want to see anything without a date. Got it?โ
โYes, chef,โ you confirm, snapping out of it. Heโs been flinging new information at you like itโs a war and heโs gunning to survive. But so are you. โIโll do my best.โ
โI expect as such.โ He slides over a peeler for the carrots and some plastic bins for trash. โItโs just a stock, so donโt worry about an even cut. Just salvage whatever you can, cut off anything that doesnโt look good.โ You nod. โBeen a year or so since you did this, right?โ
โYeah. I cook regularly, but Iโll need to get back into the groove of things. And I will,โ you add hastily. โIโll combine them into this one when I'm done, right?โ You ask, nudging a large plastic container.ย
โCorrect.โ A brief smile flashes across his face. โYou're already following quicker than I thought you would.โ Youโre not sure if he means it as an insult or a compliment, so you decide to take it as the latter.ย
โI haven't even chopped anything yet.โ
โI know.โ His expression is flat again. You resist a laugh.ย He plucks an onion from the bin, puts it in front of you. โShow me a rough dice.โ
The knife is sharp. You notice this as you place careful cuts into the onion. It's not quite as sharp as his unnerving gaze, which layers pressure upon pressure. It builds up like a pastry puff, thin multitudes of layers expanding upward. You need to be good. You need to be perfect. You don't want to disappoint him, not this early, even though you've barely been here for an hour.ย
It's just a shitty old sandwich shop, you tell yourself, but your dicing is uneven and you briefly think about accidentally chopping your fingers off.ย
โNot my best work,โ you admit, vaguely breathless. Carmy hasn't said anything yet.
โIt'll do.โ You're waiting for him to say something else, give you some tips, but he doesn't. Irritation prickles to the tips of your fingers. โI'll be back to check in on you later.โ
You stand there, motionless and shocked in the aftermath. You're not sure what you expected from today, but being abandoned an hour in was not at the top of your bucket list.ย
Man, what the fuck, you think, the thought clear in the silence around you, and that's the last time you can hear yourself think for the rest of the shift.ย
There's a prepared stock from yesterday simmering on the stove behind you. It's flanked by boiling potatoes and reducing tomato sauce. The heat from itโs searing your back like a steak, slowly drawing lines of moisture all over the surface of your shirt. Your coworkers constantly invade your space to check on them. You suppose it's not their fault that the kitchen, but it's still irritating. They're also all shouting over each other like it's a competition.
โWho the fuck touched my stockโโ
โNo one touched your stupid shitty stockโโ
โI am trying to find this cutting board, will someone pleaseโโ
You move on from the onions with only a thin layer of sweat collected at your hairline.ย
Your hands are shaky as they peel the carrots. You know you're not getting as efficient of a shave as you could be, but the caffeine crash from your morning coffee is getting to you. You don't remember the last time you drank water. A cigarette sounds nice.ย
โClean your station, chef.โ Carmy materializes next to you. You hear him before you see his hands scooping carrot shavings into a plastic container. It shocks you so much that you almost cut yourself.ย
โSorry, chef,โ you reply reflexively. You look down at your station, straightening your tools. You want to ask if you can take your break, but you don't want to look any weaker than you do already. โSo, uh, do we get 30's here?โ
When you don't get a response, your head snaps up, irritation on the tip of your tongue, but he's not even there.ย
Fucking hell, you think, annoyance simmering into something akin to anger, and you go back to finishing your prep.ย
You don't see him for another hour after that. It's not even him that tells you to take your 15, it's Syd, who noticed you were half-way through your shift and on the verge ofโฆsomething.ย
โYou finished the prep he gave you, right?โ Syd had asked. You told her you finished and put it back in the walk-in. โYeah, then go take your break. Did he not tell you we get 15's here?โ
โHe didn't,โ you say, too annoyed to bother hiding the disdain in your face. Sydney just sighs, rolling her eyes, and you think you love her.ย
โAsshole.โ She makes a shooing motion at you then. โGo, get a break from this madness. It'll get better, I promise.โ
You're not sure if you believe her, but you do step outside to take your break.ย
As you stand outside in the back, you take note of tightness in your body that you weren't even aware of. The cigarette smoke calms you, loosens you. Or maybe you owe that to getting out of that hot kitchen.ย
This time, you see Carmy before you hear him. You turn to the door to see him stepping out, a pack of smokes in his hand.ย
โHey,โ he says.ย
โHey,โ you reply.
โEverythinโ goinโ okay so far?โ
โYeah. It's fine.โ Other than everything.
โReally?โ His surprise just pisses you off further. โWell, that's good.โ
โ...Yeah.โ You decide if your mouth stays unoccupied, you'll start cussing him out, so you put your cigarette back in your mouth.ย
โYou're bleeding.โ
โWhat?โ
โI said, you're bleeding. Your hand.โย
You look down at your hand holding the cigarette, and sure enough, there's a thin, shallow cut oozing blood near one of your knuckles.ย
โShit,โ you mutter, quickly sucking the skin into your mouth. When you pull it back, the red refills. โI didn't even notice.โ
โLet's get a bandaid on that.โ He puts his unlit cigarette back into his pack. โI have some in my office.โ
That's how you end up in the enclosed, dark space of his office, seated on the only chair as he leans back against his cluttered desk. The dingy first-aid kit is propped on top of a shaky stack of papers. Carmy takes out a bandaid from it and peels it open.
โThought I gave you a sharp knife, it shouldn't have cut you like that,โ Carmy comments.ย
โIt was sharp,โ you correct. โGuess I just fucked up.โ
โIt happens,โ he says, which surprises you. He keeps surprising you. You just can't seem to figure him out. โLet me see the cut.โ
You only realize that he's putting the bandaid on you when he cradles your hand in his. His hands are warm.ย
He has so many hand tattoos. You notice the letters on his fingers first, the SOU curled around your palm. You notice the other tattoo on the back of his hand next, since that's the one carefully placing the bandaid on you.ย
He wraps it around your finger just right. Not too tight, not too loose.ย
โIs that too tight?โ He asks, almost in a whisper. He's so close, and he smells like kitchen oil, cigarette smoke, and a faded cologne you can't place.ย
โNo, it's okay.โ You don't mean to talk so quietly back, but you do. You can't stop staring at his fingers. They're long and marked up with silver scars and burns. If you look carefully, you can place the locations of his callouses.ย
โGood.โ You donโt know why he does it, but he runs his thumb across the seams of where your bandaid overlaps. Surely itโs just to secure it furtherโฆsurely.
โThank you.โ Heโs still holding your hand. Youโre unsure if youโre imagining the tension in the air or not. Everything feels more intimate behind closed doors, especially in low light. โI couldโve done it myself.โ
โItโs easier if another person does it.โ He lets go, finally, and you try not to mourn the loss. โDid you finish prepping for the stock?โ
โWhat you gave me, yeah.โ
โAlright. Letโs go take a look at it, then,โ he says, like that isnโt the most anxiety inducing thing youโve ever heard.ย
โR-Right now?โ
โAs opposed to?โ He opens the door to his office, and the muffled noises in the kitchen become sharp and clear again, like emerging from underwater. โCome on.โ
You donโt know how it happens, but Carmy gets into five separate arguments on the way to the walk-in. FIVE. To be fair, two of them are from Richie.
โIโve been telling you guys to sharpen your knives, donโt fucking treat them like this,โ Carmy shouts, trudging over to someoneโs station. โYou see this? This is exactly what we should not be doing! How many times have I said this today?! Donโtโโ
โStop going into my office when Iโm not there,โ Carmy hisses at Richie next. โYou keep fucking up where the papers are put, and I canโt find anything! Itโs enough of a mess as it is! NoโI saidโcousin, listen to meโโ
โEveryone shut the hell up, clean your stations, and get the fuck back to work!โ Is the last thing he shouts before slamming the door to the walk-in behind you. He slams it so hard the wire racks rattle. You decide not to comment.ย
The difference in sound is eerie. Youโre always surprised by how sound proof these walk-in fridges are.
โIs this the prep you did today?โ Carmy asks, touching one of the clear plastic bins. Sure enough, itโs the one you placed there a moment ago.
โYeah, it is.โ You chew the inside of your cheek. You were hoping he would be in an okay mood when he checked your work. It seemed like he was at first, but now?
โIt's on the wrong shelf.โ
โWhat?โ You stare at it sitting on the first shelf, just like he told you to. โYou told me to put it on the first shelf.โ
โIt goes on the second shelf.โ He's pissed, and there's ice in your veins. He huffs as he takes the container and moves it one shelf up, slamming it down unnecessarily. โI told youโsecond shelf.โ
โYou literally said it went on the first shelf.โ The ice has melted, and it's boiling.ย
โNo, I didn't.โ You wanna punch him. Badly. You know what you heard. โAnd you forgot to label it.โ
โShit.โ That, you did forget. Youโre not above owning up to your mistakes, unlike him. โI'm sorry, I wasโโ
โWe always need stuff like this to be labeled,โ he interrupts, rude and abrupt. You can hear the thinly veiled anger in his voice. โI told you.โ
โI know, I justโโ
โDonโt make excuses. Just do better.โ
โItโs my first fucking day!โ You snap, finally, and itโs like a firecracker in the dead of night. โI donโt expect to be coddled, but Iโve only been here for a couple hours, and youโre justโโ
โI told you to put a label on it, to put it on the second shelf, and you didnโt do either of those things.โ This is a different type of anger. Itโs quiet, contained. Dangerous. And with your outburst, itโs trembling at the edges.ย
โYou literally hired me yesterday!โ Youโre exasperated. โYou looked at my resume for like two seconds before hiring me, and youโre mad that Iโm messing up?โ
โYou had enough credentials on your resume. You told me you could work well under pressure and learn quickly. Is that true or not?โ
โIt is true! You just have to give me a chance first!โ
โI just gave you a chance,โ Carmy snaps back, โand you fucked it up.โ
โOh my god. I justโโ You take a step back. โI donโt have to take this shit.โ
โAre you quitting already?โ
โI wasnโt going to.โ You move towards the door. โBut maybe I should, before you fire me. Doesn't seem like you want me, anyway.โ
You were planning on exiting the walk-in after that, to leave on cue, but the door doesnโt budge. You and Carmy notice it at the same time.ย
Suddenly, there is a new problem.
โFuck,โ Carmy curses under his breath. The two of you are pushing against the door, but it wonโt budge. He slams his fist on it and calls out. โGuys, the walk-in door is stuck! Can any of you open it from out there?โ
โCarmen?โ Richie's voice is muffled from the other end. There's the sound of frustrated efforts on the other end. โIt's not fuckinโ budging!โ
โFuck,โ Carmy repeats, seething, and you agree. โCall Fak!โ
โI already did! Heโs gonna be here in 20!โ
โ20 minutes?!โ Carmy shouts. You close your eyes and sigh, audibly. โDon't we have a screwdriver in here or something?! Just take the hinges off!โ
โWhy do you think I called Fak?! Shut the hell up and be patient!โ
โTell him to hurry the fuck up,โ Carmy barks, and that's where their conversation ends.ย
โJust what I needed right now,โ you mutter under your breath. Carmy's not looking at you, eyes boring into the door that's trapping the both of you in here with each other. โTo be locked in a room with you.โ
It's quiet for a minute before he speaks, cutting the silence open.
โ...I do want you, y'know.โ
โYouโhuh?โ He said it so quietly you're not sure if it was a hallucination.ย
โWe need you here.โ He's still not looking at you. โThis placeโit's fucked.ย We don't have enough hands.โ
โI can tell,โ you say, and you mean for it to come out bitter, but it's soft. Naively so.ย
โI want you here. I do.โ He doesn't need to say it like that. You don't want to believe it, neither his words or the way hearing it makes you feel. โI need you.โ
โCan you at least look at me when you say it?โย
Youโre not sure why you say it. You instantly recognize it for how needy it sounds, but you don't get the luxury of embarrassment. Carmy's already turning to face you.ย
โI want you,โ he repeats, voice low. You think about the paint you'd need to mix to match the color of his eyes. Blue, white, and the slightest bit of orange to desaturate it. You're not sure what type of orange, though. โI need you.โ
โFuck,โ you mutter, despite yourself, and it's too late.
โAre you gonna do better?โ You didn't even register him moving closer to you. When did your back end up against the shelves?
โIโm gonna do better,โ you whisper, โif you stop being such an asshole.โ
โIt won't happen again,โ he whispers back, and you recognize it for the lie that it is.ย
You don't really care, though.ย
His face is so close to yours that you can see the separate specks of colors in his iris. You watch his gaze fall from your eyes to your lips, and it lingers there before rising again. Any shreds of self respect or control you were clinging onto disintegrate. It doesn't matter if he really means what it says. All that matters is getting your mouth on his.ย ย
โOkay,โ you say, a whisper of foolish acceptance, and you're kissing him.ย
Or is he kissing you? You don't know who leaned forward first. It's not important.ย
โI saw you staring at my hands today,โ Carmy says against your lips. Spit makes your mouths slide easily against each other. โYesterday, too.โ
โWhat theโno you didn't,โ you gasp, appalled, heat rising in your face, โhow did youโ?โ
โYou're right. I didn't,โ he admits with a cheeky grin. Youโre really gonna punch him now.ย
โGod, you're just,โ you mutter, โyou're such an asshole.โ
โI know.โ At first, you think he's being smug, but there's a surprising sense of remorse under it. You don't have time to think about it, though, not when his hand is cradling your face. There's no way he doesn't feel how hot your face is.ย
โWhat're youโฆ?โ His thumb passes over your lower lip, and the words fall away.ย
โTell me you want this.โ Your eyes flicker to his hand, then to his face. His other hand is at the top of your jeans, fingers resting on the edge of your waistband. Excited arousal hits your gut, sizzling like browning butter, warm and toasted. His eyes are dark, caramel on the verge of burning. โIf you don't, I'll pretend like this never happened. I'll never touch you again.โ
I'll never touch you again, he says, like it's not the last thing you'll ever want.ย
โI want this,โ you murmur. โTouch me. Please.โ
โGood,โ Carmy praises, one quiet word enough to sear your insides with heat, blue flame on the underside of a pan. โThat's what I thought.โ
His hands slip behind you to untie your apron. The strings fall to your sides, and you tug it hastily up and over your head. It falls to the floor next to you. Surely that's a gigantic health hazard, but Carmy's the one who throws it there, so you don't say anything. You lower your gaze to his fingers unbuttoning your pants. The sight of it makes you woozy. You take note of his other tattoos, noticing the letters on his fingers. You watch as the stabbed hand made of ink on his right disappears under the cloth of your underwear.
โOh,โ you breathe. You didn't expect his hand to be so warm, even though you had just felt his heated palm gentle on your cheek.
โYou're wet.โ The tip of his index finger dips into where your hot folds separate. It strokes at the fluid that's pooled at your entrance, coaxing it out. โWhen did this happen?โ
โFuck you is when,โ you bite back, but it's all bark. โI don't know.โ
โSure,โ he agrees, but not really. His condescending smile shouldn't be hot, it really shouldn't, but your pussy throbs against his hand, and he smiles knowingly. โAll you need is me to talk and you get wet, is that it?โ
โIโโ His finger rises upward, splitting you open and flicking at your clit. You buck against his hand. โDon't ask me a question and then touch me like that,โ you hiss, horribly turned on.
โMm, sorry.โ It's barely an apology. You throw your head back in frustration. โI didn't mean to.โ
โI have a hard time believing that,โ you pant. He's pushed your slick up your pussy to your clit, two slick fingers sliding back and forth on your stiff nub. The pads of his calloused fingers are rubbing you almost where you're too sensitive.ย
โThen don't. I don't care what you think of me.โ You think he's about to get his fingers inside of you, and your breath hitches, but he pulls back. You regret the frustrated whine that is just audible enough in the back of your throat. He does it again, just barely pushing the tips of fingers in before pulling away.
โYouโwhyโdo you want me to beg or something?โ Your clenched hands raise by your sides to grip the collar of his white shirt and yank him forward. The shock that flashes across his face gives you a sick sense of satisfaction.
โIt wouldn't hurt,โ he mumbles. Seeing him stagger like this, even if briefly, sends a rush through your head.
โIs that what it's gonna take for you to get those fucking fingers inside me?โย
Like a coward, instead of answering, he leans an inch forward and kisses you. Or maybe that was his answer. That's when he sinks two fingers inside you, long and thick, pushing until your wet pussy's pressed tight against his palm.ย
You moan, a pathetic thing, and Carmy swallows the sound of it.
โYou're already begging,โ he says quietly. He pulls his fingers out. You whine in protest, desperate and angry pleas on the tip of your tongue, but then he's pushing inside again.
That's the last moment of reprieve you get. His fingers start thrusting into you faster, dragging out slick each time he pulls them out. Paranoia suddenly screams that youโre gonna wet the front of your pants at this rate. The aching pleasure is louder than your fear, though. You canโt help the way his fingers are making you moan.
โMore,โ you plead, โgive me another, I can take it.โ Your hips are thrusting forward to meet his hand when they push inside. Your clit slaps against the heel of his palm, and you chase the friction. He must notice, because when he obliges and stretches you out with a third finger, he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit.
โYou have to be quiet,โ he says lowly when you keep moaning. โTheyโre gonna hear you.โย
โIโIโm trying,โ you whine. Youโre squeezing so tight down on him. You feel so full. โYour fingersโโ
โYouโre the one who asked for more.โ He slaps his other hands firmly over your mouth. It silences your sound of surprise. โYou said you could take it, so hereโs whatโs gonna happen.โ His fingers are slamming into your now, and your hole spasms around them in pleasure. โYouโre gonna come on my fingers, and youโre gonna be quiet. Understand?โ
You know how soundproof the walk-in is. You had just witnessed it moments ago. But Carmyโs warnings do something fierce to you, bypassing logic straight into anxious, desperate arousal. Heโs right, you think. You need to be quiet. You nod quickly in response, so he takes your consent and sprints with it.
To your credit, you try to be quiet. You said you would. But thereโs only so much you can do when heโs fingering you so hard your legs are shaking. Youโre whimpering into his hand, the sounds muffled.ย Your own moans, his heavy breathing, and the slick sound of your pussy getting railed by his fingersโthatโs what you listen to as you come.
โFuck, youโre squeezing down tight,โ Carmy hisses, and for an irrational secondย youโre afraid youโre hurting him, but one look at his starved expression changes your mind. His three wide fingers are fucking you slowly through your wildly contracting orgasm. In one of his palms, you're oozing slick, and in his other palm, you're smearing with spit.
You should be thinking about how bad of an idea this all is, having sex with your boss. Itโs too bad your orgasm is so potent you canโt think at all.
You lean your head back against the cold metal railings of the wire racks behind you. Itโs uncomfortable, but a part of it feels good against the coiling heat thatโs unraveling in your stomach. The air around you is cold, but youโre hot, far too hot. You donโt remember the last time youโve finished this hard.
He finally pries his hand off your mouth once you've stopped clamping down on his fingers. His hand lingers at your face before wiping it on the side of his jeans. His expression has this unreadable, unnamed intensity to it, and you can't tell where that ends and where the hunger starts. Although he is looking very, very starved.
His hand that's tucked into your underwear tugs it upward as it leaves, pulling the fabric taut against your pussy. It sticks like paper mache with the glue of your orgasm, molded to your shape. You make an aroused noise that's a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
You're about to complain, something along the lines of โwas that really necessaryโ, but then your eyes are zeroed in on the sheen of his fingers that were fucking you.
โDon't,โ you start, suddenly worried he's going to wipe them on his jeans again, but you don't get to finish. He's pushing his index finger into your mouth, and you taste yourself on his skin.
โGood,โ Carmy whispers when he feels your tongue wrapping around him. Fuck, hearing him say it like that does awful things to you.
You don't know why you accept it without a fight, but if you're being honest with yourself, this is exactly what you wanted. You start to suck, but he doesn't linger. When he pulls his finger out, your parted lips expect the other two, but he sucks them into his mouth instead.ย
God. What do you even say to that? He even has the nerve to look you in the eyes as he pops his cleaned fingers out of his mouth.ย
โLet me touch you,โ you decide to say instead, because if you think about him and his fingers inโanyway.ย
โIt's fine. I don't need it.โ He's oddly cagey all of a sudden.ย
โLet me return the favor, please,โ you insist, even adding in some good manners. It seems to still him for a moment, giving you enough time to lift his apron.
Fuck, you think to yourself, the word resounding like an alarm inside your head. His jeans are tented so tightly it looks painful. All this from touching me, you realize. You can see the shape of his bulge under the denim. The silhouette is vague, but...
It's big.
โCarmy? You still in there?โ
A voice you don't recognize calls out beyond the door. As soon as you both hear it, Carmy jerks away. You mourn the loss only for a moment before you remember yourself. You're scrambling to get your pants buttoned and your apron over your head.ย
โYeah, I'm still in here,โ Carmy shouts back, instantaneously irritable. His back is turned to you, and you want to feel those muscles tensing under your palm. โAbout fuckinโ time!โ
โYou're welcome, by the way! I could've left you in here to freeze and die a tragic death!โ
โIt's not just me in here, Fak.โ A beat of silence. โAre you opening it?โ
โAm I fuckingโJesus Christ, Carmen, just give me a second! I'm working my magic!โ
That shuts Carmy up. Almost. He sighs before turning to look at you.ย
โSorry for getting us stuck in here.โ The apology is equally as surprising as the softness of which he speaks. โShitty first day, huh?โ
โIt's cool. It's not your fault.โ Other than all the shit that was completely your fault, you think, remembering the way you were shouting at each other just a moment ago. โKinda shitty though, yeah.โ
โYeah.โ He sighs again. โIf you wanna leave, I don't blame you.โ
โI thought I wasn't getting fired.โ
โYou're not,โ he says quickly. โBut I'mโthis place is a shitshow.โ You're not sure which he really means to say, but you hear both. The restaurant, and him especially, are both complete messes. That much was obvious from the beginning. โSo if you wanna take off, justโฆโ He shrugs. โJust go.โ
Maybe that'd be for the best, if you left. As far as first days go, you've already broken every rule in the book. You messed up your first task, got into an argument with your boss, and then had sex with him. Nothing about this place is particularly inviting, either. This restaurant wears its dysfunction on its sleeve, unabashed in all the ways it lacks. You had left the kitchen with ringing ears from all the noise and a cut on your hand you didn't even notice.ย
But here you are. You're not running. Maybe it's because of the fact that you need to pay rent. Maybe it's knowing that just one more pair of hands here could really make a difference. Maybe you're just desperate to keep food on the table. Maybe it's Carmen Berzatto, beautiful, haunted, and angry. Maybe it's all of that, a combined whole that's become greater than the sum of its parts.
Or maybe it's just that now that you've kissed him, had a taste of him, you refuse to let go. Maybe the reason is as shallow as that.ย
Carmy's been waiting for you to speak, tired eyes searching your own. You're still not sure what exact colors you need to perfectly recreate the blue you're staring at.ย
โAlmost done!โ Fak shouts. โJust one more hinge!โ
โHeard,โ Carmy shouts back. He hasn't taken his eyes off you. โSo? What's it gonna be? Are you staying or not?โ
Blood orange, you think all of a sudden. That's the orange you would need to make the perfect blue to match his eyes. Just a little bitโthat's all you would need.
โI'm staying,โ you tell him. โI need to pay rent, after all.โ
Yeah. That's the reasoning you're settling on. Rent.
โRight. Of course.โ There's a glimpse of that gentle smile you've seen flashes of today. It fades away as quickly as it came. โAfter this, I'm gonna have you learn how to check produce next.โ
โOkay, sounds good,โ you say as naturally as you can, given the tonal whiplash.
โThere should be some that's about to get washed. I'll show you where that is.โ The door's shifting. โBut before thatโฆโ He lowers his voice, leans in close. Is he about to kiss you?
โW-What?โ
โGet a new apron from my office. That one's dirty.โ Beams of light stream through the entrance of the walk-in, forced wide open. โYou need to keep your apron clean, chef.โ
YOU WERE THE ONE WHO THREW IT ON THE GROUND, you want to scream. Just when you thought he started being nice, he does something that makes you want to grab him by the collar and shake him.
But you can't. The walk-in's open again, and you see your coworkers crowded by the door.ย
โYes, chef,โ you reply, and the words taste bitter on your tongue.
~
@zorrasucia
#carmy berzatto#carmen berzatto#the bear#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear fx#jeremy allen white#carmy berzatto smut#carmen berzatto smut#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x you#the bear fanfiction#my fics#my smut#YEAHHHH LETS GOOO im so excited to release this!! even had my friend proofread this LOL#which was helpful. i couldn't stop writing and then BAM. 7.3k#i really wanted the chapters to be shorter than alexithymia bc its a lot of words to proofread but. oh well.#we'll see if the other chs are shorter. cant wait to hear yalls thoughts!! its gonna get worse for carmy and reader from here#blood orange#๐ฉธ๐
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A series of A24 inspired grand prix movie posters for 2024. Bahrain. Og shot by Vladimir Rys. Edit by me.
#max verstappen#bahrain gp 2024#f1 edit#red bull racing#2024 season#a24series#kit posts#๐ฉธ๐ฉธ๐ฉธ๐ฉธ๐ฉธ๐ฉธ๐ฉธ๐ฉธ#๐
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For the characters what are their alpha/beta/omega status?
All of them are Omega so they're all breedable
All of them
Even Carl
#answered#๐ฅ - about harper#๐ - about jazz#๐ - about cammie#๐งฏ - about dante#๐ - about sophie#๐ - about gavin#๐ฌ - about malik#๐ฉธ - about The Killer#๐ - C A R L
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A low, harsh, violin string plays, Durple- or, someone that looks like durple without the fins, likely one from a different universe stares at Oren with EXTREME concern and worry.
"..Gee, you uh.. don't look so good.. do you need help putting your ribs back in?"
-@sprunkeddurple
"..Nobody's asked me that before.. but.. yes... please.. it hurts so much.. I'm in alot of pain.." -๐๐
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.........yeah i dont think we're sleeping tonight
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FIFI OGNTHDDHJDFI GO TO THE HOSPITAL AND GET WHAT YOU NEED GIRL OMFG you do not want that boy's devil spawn omffhdhdhdhdhd
going to!!! its okay! dont worry about me aha like i said i have everything under control~ <3
(girl. immmm soooo fuckeddddd,,,,,)
imgoigntokms kkgjgghhghghg imdont even
want to know .
:)
if im pregnant im going to literally take his fav knife-- the one he prettied up just specifically 4 me~ and slit my wrists in his fucking bathtub!!! <3 :D
like iactually cant stop thinking about it its all i can think of n all i can think of is my mum im going 2 b just like hermy life is so over
i dont. want a baby. ive never wnted a baby. he knows i dont like when he says ill b a goodmum bc we both know hes fkn lying. icant even take care of myself i cant take care of a baby.
im so fucking stupid 4 not being on birth control i knew within tha 1st month he poked holes in condoms wjat is wrong with me
been playing around with fire 4 too long n i got burned omg !!! what a surprise!!! the fucking whore got wat was coming 4 her im so . FUCKING stupid
#๐ฉธ#whooo wants a seraphina suicide stream?!? <333#we alllll knew it wuz coming someday el oh el ^.^#๐#fifi answerz#my mum
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hi this is siz i love horror & i love YOU :3c
๐ฆ 24 ๐ฆ lesbian | they/he
๐ letterboxd ๐ spotify
๐ sideblog @meat4sale ๐
#๐#๐#๐ฆ#๐ป#๐ฐ#๐ฅฉ#๐๏ธ#๐จ๏ธ#โฐ๏ธ#โ๏ธ#๐ช#๐#๐#๐งบ#๐#๐ฅ#๐ฎ#๐#๐#๐ฉธ#๐#๐ถ#๐ฒ#๐ช#๐ท#๐ง#.
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the way wattpad fics traumatized me from calling hajime a tsundere ๐ญ๐ญ๐ญlike hell no what tf was that
#/lh#but also shut up#also controversial but his emoji isnโt ๐ itโs either โ๏ธ or ๐ป#;; ๐ฉธ daniel talks
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| fang | mid 20something | white | tme | he/its | fat gay nonbinary feline therian | autistic as shit | happily married to da love of my life ๐บ๐ค Arab.org Daily Clicks - Vetted Organizations Providing Gaza with Food, Water, Shelter, and Medical Care - Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List
personal/upload blog, expect text posts and pictures of vintage plushes and vending machines and metalocalypse and all the other dumb shit i'm into. not a fandom blog. i am thirty or forty years old i do not need this. (be aware i like a lot of horror movies/games so there will be untagged (fake or cartoon) blood and carnage)
!! no minor interaction . no dni because common sense & i block liberally but for the sake of warding evil, yaaaay transfems and fatlib and communism and boooo zionism and racism and liberals and diddling kids or whatever the fuck
#emoji tag nav and explanation. all my other tags are self explanatory and probably easy to find and search#color organization tags:#๐ฉธ#๐#โ๏ธ#๐ฑ#๐ง#๐ฎ#๐#๐ค#๐ฆด#theme organization tags:#๐พ#(old web/tech)#๐พ#(beasts)#๐ชฆ#(nighttime scaries)#๐บ๐ค#(my husband :^))#๐๐#(yummies)#๐#(what the kids would probably refer to as a kin tag.)
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changed my header ๐ฅ๐ต๐๐
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I need blood orange part 2 so badly
ILL GET TO IT BRO TRUSTโฆ. happy to know thereโs interest tho!! :) Iโm cursed to work sadlyโฆ time has been escaping me
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the good nurse๐๐ฉธ
#interview with the vampire#iwtv#armand#iwtv armand#amc iwtv#illustration#eleheba#armand the vampire
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i can make pictures easily๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐คฃ๐๐๐๐ซ ๐๐๐๐ฅฐ๐๐คฉ๐๐โบ๏ธ๐๐๐ฅฒ๐๐คฉ๐๐โบ๏ธ๐๐๐ฅฒ๐๐๐๐คช๐๐ค๐ค๐คญ๐ซข๐ซฃ๐คซ๐ค๐ซก๐ค๐คจ๐๐๐ถ๐ซฅ๐ถโ๐ซ๏ธ๐๐๐๐ฌ๐ฎโ๐จ๐คฅ๐ซจ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐๐ช๐คค๐ด๐ท๐ค๐ค๐คข๐คฎ๐คง๐ฅต๐ฅถ๐ฅด๐ต๐ตโ๐ซ๐คฏ๐ค ๐ฅณ๐ฅธ๐๐ค๐ง๐๐ซค๐๐โน๏ธ๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ฅบ๐ฅน๐ฆ๐ง๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฑ๐ฃ๐ฃ๐๐๐ฉ๐ซ๐ฅฑ๐ค๐ก๐ ๐คฌ๐๐ฟ๐โ ๏ธ๐ฉ๐คก๐น๐บ๐ป๐ฝ๐พ๐ค๐บ๐ธ๐น๐ป๐ผ๐ฝ๐๐ฟ๐พ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โฃ๏ธ๐โค๏ธโ๐ฅโค๏ธโ๐ฉนโค๏ธ๐ฉท๐งก๐๐๐๐ฉต๐๐ค๐ค๐ฉถ๐ค๐ฏ๐ข๐ฅ๐ซ๐ฆ๐จ๐ณ๐ฃ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฏ๐ญ๐ค๐๐ค๐โ๏ธ๐๐ซฑ๐ซฒ๐ซณ๐ซด๐ซท๐ซธ๐๐ค๐คโ๏ธ๐ค๐ซฐ๐ค๐ค๐ค๐๐๐๐๐โ๏ธ๐ซต๐๐โ๏ธ๐๐ค๐ค๐๐๐ซถ๐๐คฒ๐ค๐โ๏ธ๐
๐คณ๐ช๐ฆพ๐ฆฟ๐ฆต๐ฆถ๐๐ฆป๐๐ง ๐ซ๐ซ๐ฆท๐ฆด๐๐๐
๐๐ซฆ๐ถ๐ง๐ฆ๐ง๐ง๐ฑ๐จ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐จโ๐ฆฐ๐จโ๐ฆฑ๐จโ๐ฆณ๐จโ๐ฆฒ๐ฉ๐ฉโ๐ฆฐ๐งโ๐ฆฐ๐ฉโ๐ฆฑ๐งโ๐ฆฑ๐ฉโ๐ฆณ๐งโ๐ฆณ๐ฉโ๐ฆฒ๐งโ๐ฆฒ๐ฑโโ๏ธ๐ฑโโ๏ธ๐ด๐ต๐ง๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐
โโ๏ธ๐
โโ๏ธ๐
๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐คฆโโ๏ธ๐คฆโโ๏ธ๐คฆ๐คทโโ๏ธ๐คทโโ๏ธ๐คท๐จโโ๏ธ๐ฉโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐จโ๐๐ฉโ๐๐งโ๐๐จโ๐ซ๐ฉโ๐ซ๐งโ๐ซ๐จโโ๏ธ๐ฉโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐จโ๐พ๐ฉโ๐พ๐งโ๐พ๐จโ๐ณ๐ฉโ๐ณ๐งโ๐ณ๐จโ๐ง๐ฉโ๐ง๐งโ๐ง๐จโ๐ญ๐ฉโ๐ญ๐งโ๐ญ๐จโ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐ฉโ๐ผ๐งโ๐ผ๐จโ๐ฌ๐ฉโ๐ฌ๐จโ๐ป๐ฉโ๐ป๐งโ๐ป๐จโ๐ค๐ฉโ๐ค๐งโ๐ค๐จโ๐จ๐ฉโ๐จ๐งโ๐จ๐จโโ๏ธ๐ฉโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐จโ๐๐ฉโ๐๐งโ๐๐จโ๐๐ฉโ๐๐งโ๐๐ฎโโ๏ธ๐ฎโโ๏ธ๐ฎ๐ตโโ๏ธ๐ตโโ๏ธ๐ต๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐ฅท๐ทโโ๏ธ๐ทโโ๏ธ๐ท๐ซ
๐คด๐ธ๐ณโโ๏ธ๐ณโโ๏ธ๐ณ๐ฒ๐ง๐คตโโ๏ธ๐คตโโ๏ธ๐คต๐ฐโโ๏ธ๐ฐโโ๏ธ๐ฐ๐คฐ๐ซ๐ซ๐คฑ๐จโ๐ผ๐ฉโ๐ผ๐งโ๐ผ๐ผ๐
๐คถ๐งโ๐๐ฆธโโ๏ธ๐ฆธโโ๏ธ๐ฆธ๐ฆนโโ๏ธ๐ฆนโโ๏ธ๐ฆน๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐ง๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐ถโโ๏ธ๐ถโโ๏ธโโก๏ธ๐ถโโ๏ธ๐ถโโ๏ธโโก๏ธ๐ถ๐ถโโก๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธโโก๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธโโก๏ธ๐ง๐งโโก๏ธ๐จโ๐ฆฏ๐จโ๐ฆฏโโก๏ธ๐ฉโ๐ฆฏ๐ฉโ๐ฆฏโโก๏ธ๐งโ๐ฆฏ๐งโ๐ฆฏโโก๏ธ๐จโ๐ฆผ๐จโ๐ฆผโโก๏ธ๐ฉโ๐ฆผ๐ฉโ๐ฆผโโก๏ธ๐งโ๐ฆผ๐งโ๐ฆผโโก๏ธ๐จโ๐ฆฝ๐จโ๐ฆฝโโก๏ธ๐ฉโ๐ฆฝ๐ฉโ๐ฆฝโโก๏ธ๐งโ๐ฆฝ๐งโ๐ฆฝโโก๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธโโก๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธโโก๏ธ๐๐โโก๏ธ๐บ๐๐ด๐ฏโโ๏ธ๐ฏโโ๏ธ๐ฏ๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐คบ๐โท๏ธ๐๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐ฃโโ๏ธ๐ฃโโ๏ธ๐ฃ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐โน๏ธโโ๏ธโน๏ธโโ๏ธโน๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐โโ๏ธ๐๐ดโโ๏ธ๐ดโโ๏ธ๐ด๐ตโโ๏ธ๐ตโโ๏ธ๐ต๐คธโโ๏ธ๐คธโโ๏ธ๐คธ๐คผโโ๏ธ๐คผโโ๏ธ๐คผ๐คฝโโ๏ธ๐คฝโโ๏ธ๐คฝ๐คพโโ๏ธ๐คพโโ๏ธ๐คพ๐คนโโ๏ธ๐คนโโ๏ธ๐คน๐งโโ๏ธ๐งโโ๏ธ๐ง๐๐๐ฌ๐ซ๐ญ๐งโ๐คโ๐ง๐จโโค๏ธโ๐โ๐จ๐ฉโโค๏ธโ๐โ๐จ๐ฉโโค๏ธโ๐โ๐ฉ๐๐จโโค๏ธโ๐จ๐ฉโโค๏ธโ๐จ๐ฉโโค๏ธโ๐ฉ๐๐ฉโ๐ฉโ๐ฆ๐จโ๐ฉโ๐ง๐ฉโ๐ฉโ๐งโ๐ฆ๐จโ๐ฉโ๐ฆโ๐ฆ๐จโ๐ฉโ๐งโ๐ง๐จโ๐ฆ๐ฉโ๐ฆ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฅ๏ธ๐ซ๐ฃ๐งโ๐งโ๐ง๐งโ๐งโ๐งโ๐ง๐งโ๐ง๐งโ๐งโ๐ง๐ต๐๐ฆ๐ฆง๐ถ๐๐ฆฎ๐โ๐ฆบ๐ฉ๐บ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฑ๐๐โโฌ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐
๐๐ด๐ซ๐ซ๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฆฌ๐ฎ๐๐๐๐ท๐๐๐ฝ๐๐๐๐ช๐ซ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ฆฃ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ๐๐๐น๐ฐ๐๐ฟ๐ฆซ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ป๐จ๐ปโโ๏ธ๐ผ๐ฆฅ๐ฆฆ๐ฆจ๐ฆ๐ฆก๐พ๐ฆ๐๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ง๐๐ฆ
๐ฆ๐ฆข๐ฆ๐ฆค๐ชถ๐ฆฉ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ชฝ๐ฆโโฌ๐ชฟ๐ฆโ๐ฅ๐ธ๐๐ข๐ฆ๐๐ฒ๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ณ๐๐ฌ๐ฆญ๐๐ ๐ก๐ฆ๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ชธ๐ชผ๐๐ฆ๐๐๐๐ชฒ๐๐ฆ๐ท๐ชณ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ชฐ๐ชฑ๐ฆ ๐๐ธ๐ฎ๐ชท๐ต๐น๐ฅ๐บ๐ป๐ผ๐ท๐ชปโ๏ธ๐ฑ๐ชด๐ฒ๐ณ๐ด๐ต๐พ๐ฟโ๏ธ๐๐๐๐๐ชน๐ชบ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฅญ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐ฅ๐
๐ซ๐ฅฅ๐โ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฝ๐ถ๐ซ๐ฅ๐ฅฌ๐ฅฆ๐ง๐ง
๐๐ฅ๐ซ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ซ๐โ๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ซ๐ฅจ๐ฅฏ๐ฅ๐ง๐ง๐๐๐ฅฉ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐ญ๐ฅช๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ซ๐ฅ๐ง๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ซ๐ฅฃ๐ฅ๐ฟ๐ง๐ง๐ฅซ๐ฑ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฆช๐ค๐ฅ๐ฅฎ๐ก๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฅก๐ฆ๐ง๐จ๐ฉ๐ช๐๐ฐ๐ง๐ฅง๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฏ๐ผ๐ฅโ๏ธ๐ซ๐ต๐ถ๐พ๐ท๐ธ๐น๐บ๐ป๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ซ๐ฅค๐ง๐ง๐ง๐ง๐ฅข๐ฝ๐ด๐ฅ๐ช๐ซ๐บ๐๐๐๐๐บ๐งญ๐โฐ๏ธ๐๐ป๐๐๐๐๐๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๐๐๐งฑ๐ชจ๐ชต๐๐๐๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฃ๐ค๐ฅ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฉ๐ช๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐๐ผ๐ฝโช๏ธ๐๐๐โฉ๏ธ๐โฒ๏ธโบ๏ธ๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐โจ๏ธ๐ ๐๐ก๐ข๐๐ช๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ป๐๐๐๐๐๐ต๐ฆฝ๐ฆผ๐บ๐ฒ๐ด๐น๐ผ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ขโฝ๏ธ๐๐จ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐๐งโ๏ธ๐โต๏ธ๐ถ๐ค๐ณโด๏ธ๐ฅ๐ขโ๏ธ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ช๐บ๐๐๐ ๐ก๐ฐ๐๐ธ๐๐งณโ๏ธโณ๏ธโ๏ธโฐ๏ธโฑ๏ธโฒ๏ธ๐ฐ๐๐ง๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ก๐๐ข๐๐ฃ๐๐ค๐๐ฅ๐๐ฆ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐กโ๏ธ๐๐๐ชโญ๏ธ๐๐ ๐โ๏ธโ
๏ธโ๏ธ๐ค๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ง๐จ๐ฉ๐ช๐ซ๐ฌ๐๐๐โ๏ธโ๏ธโฑ๏ธโก๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธ๐ฅ๐ง๐๐๐๐๐๐งจโจ๏ธ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐งง๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐
๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅโฝ๏ธโพ๏ธ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐๐พ๐ฅ๐ณ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ธ๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ
โณ๏ธโธ๏ธ๐ฃ๐คฟ๐ฝ๐ฟ๐ท๐ฅ๐ฏ๐ช๐ช๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ช๐งฟ๐ชฌ๐ฎ๐น๐ฐ๐ฒ๐งฉ๐งธ๐ช
๐ชฉ๐ชโ ๏ธโฅ๏ธโฆ๏ธโฃ๏ธโ๏ธ๐๐๐ด๐ญ๐ผ๐จ๐งต๐ชก๐งถ๐ชข๐๐ถ๐ฅฝ๐ฅผ๐ฆบ๐๐๐๐งฃ๐งค๐งฅ๐งฆ๐๐๐ฅป๐ฉฑ๐ฉฒ๐ฉณ๐๐๐ชญ๐๐๐๐๐๐ฉด๐๐๐ฅพ๐ฅฟ๐ ๐ก๐ฉฐ๐ข๐ชฎ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐งข๐ชโ๏ธ๐ฟ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ข๐ฃ๐ฏ๐๐๐ผ๐ต๐ถ๐๐๐๐ค๐ง๐ป๐ท๐ช๐ธ๐น๐บ๐ป๐ช๐ฅ๐ช๐ช๐ช๐ฑ๐ฒโ๏ธ๐๐๐ ๐๐ชซ๐๐ป๐ฅ๐จโจ๏ธ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฝ๐พ๐ฟ๐๐งฎ๐ฅ๐๐ฝ๐ฌ๐บ๐ท๐ธ๐น๐ผ๐๐๐ฏ๐ก๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ช๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฐ๐๐๐๐ท๐ฐ๐ช๐ด๐ต๐ถ๐ท๐ธ๐ณ๐งพโ๏ธ๐ง๐จ๐ฉ๐ค๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ช๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฎ๐ณโ๏ธโ๏ธ๐๐๐๐๐๐ผ๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โ๏ธ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐จ๐ชโ๏ธโ๏ธ๐ ๐กโ๏ธ๐ซ๐ช๐น๐ก๐ช๐ง๐ช๐ฉโ๏ธ๐โ๏ธ๐ฆฏ๐โ๏ธโ๏ธโ๐ฅ๐ช๐งฐ๐งฒ๐ชโ๏ธ๐งช๐งซ๐งฌ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ฉธ๐๐ฉน๐ฉผ๐ฉบ๐ฉป๐ช๐๐ช๐ช๐๐๐ช๐ฝ๐ช ๐ฟ๐๐ชค๐ช๐งด๐งท๐งน๐งบ๐งป๐ชฃ๐งผ๐ซง๐ชฅ๐งฝ๐งฏ๐๐ฌโฐ๏ธ๐ชฆโฑ๏ธ๐ฟ๐ชง๐ชช๐ง๐ฎ๐ฐโฟ๏ธ๐น๐บ๐ป๐ผ๐พ๐๐๐๐
โ ๏ธ๐ธโ๏ธ๐ซ๐ณ๐ญ๐ฏ๐ฑ๐ท๐ต๐โข๏ธโฃ๏ธโฌ๏ธโ๏ธโก๏ธโ๏ธโฌ๏ธโ๏ธโฌ
๏ธโ๏ธ๏ฟฝ๏ฟฝ๏ธโ๏ธโฉ๏ธโช๏ธโคด๏ธโคต๏ธ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โ๏ธ๐โก๏ธโธ๏ธโฏ๏ธโ๏ธโฆ๏ธโช๏ธโฎ๏ธ๐๐ฏ๐ชฏโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธ๐๐๐โถ๏ธโฉ๏ธโญ๏ธโฏ๏ธโ๏ธโช๏ธโฎ๏ธ๐ผโซ๏ธ๐ฝโฌ๏ธโธ๏ธโน๏ธโบ๏ธโ๏ธ๐ฆ๐
๐๐ถ๐๐ณ๐ดโ๏ธโ๏ธโง๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธ๐ฐโพ๏ธโผ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธใฐ๏ธ๐ฑ๐ฒโ๏ธโป๏ธโ๏ธ๐ฑ๐๐ฐโญ๏ธโ
๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโ๏ธโฐ๏ธโฟ๏ธใฝ๏ธโณ๏ธโด๏ธโ๏ธยฉ๏ธยฎ๏ธโข๏ธ#๏ธโฃ*๏ธโฃ0๏ธโฃ1๏ธโฃ2๏ธโฃ3๏ธโฃ4๏ธโฃ5๏ธโฃ6๏ธโฃ7๏ธโฃ8๏ธโฃ9๏ธโฃ๐๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ฃ๐ค๐
ฐ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐
ฑ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธโน๏ธ๐๏ธโ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธ๐
พ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐
ฟ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธ๐๏ธ๐ท๏ธ๐ถ๏ธ๐ฏ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐น๏ธ๐๏ธ๐ฒ๏ธ๐๏ธ๐ธ๏ธ๐ด๏ธ๐ณ๏ธใ๏ธใ๏ธ๐บ๏ธ๐ต๏ธ๐ด๐ ๐ก๐ข๐ต๐ฃ๐คโช๏ธโซ๏ธ๐ฅ๐ง๐จ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ซโฌโฌ๏ธโผ๏ธโป๏ธโพ๏ธโฝ๏ธโช๏ธโซ๏ธ๐ถ๏ธ๐ท๏ธ๐ธ๏ธ๐น๏ธ๐บ๏ธ๐ป๐ ๐๐ฒ๐ณ๐๐ฉ๐ด๐ณ๐ณ๏ธโ๐๐ณ๏ธโโง๏ธ๐ดโโ ๏ธ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฆ๐ซ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฒ๐ฆ๐ด๐ฆ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ธ๐ฆ๐น๐ฆ๐บ๐ฆ๐ผ๐ฆ๐ฝ๐ฆ๐ฟ๐ง๐ฆ๐ง๐ง๐ง๐ฉ๐ง๐ช๐ง๐ซ๐ง๐ฌ๐ง๐ญ๐ง๐ฎ๐ง๐ฏ๐ง๐ฑ๐ง๐ฒ๐ง๐ณ๐ง๐ด๐ง๐ถ๐ง๐ท๐ง๐ธ๐ง๐น๐ง๐ป๐ง๐ผ๐ง๐พ๐ง๐ฟ๐จ๐ฆ๐จ๐จ๐จ๐ฉ๐จ๐ซ๐จ๐ฌ๐จ๐ญ๐จ๐ฎ๐จ๐ฐ๐จ๐ฑ๐จ๐ฒ๐จ๐ณ๐จ๐ด๐จ๐ต๐จ๐ท๐จ๐บ๐จ๐ป๐จ๐ผ๐จ๐ฝ๐จ๐พ๐จ๐ฟ๐ฉ๐ช๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ฏ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฉ๐ฒ๐ฉ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฟ๐ช๐ฆ๐ช๐จ๐ช๐ช๐ช๐ฌ๐ช๐ญ๐ช๐ท๐ช๐ธ๐ช๐น๐ช๐บ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฏ๐ซ๐ฐ๐ซ๐ฒ๐ซ๐ด๐ซ๐ท๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ง๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฑ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ณ๐ฌ๐ต๐ฌ๐ถ๐ฌ๐ท๐ฌ๐ธ๐ฌ๐น๐ฌ๐บ๐ฌ๐ผ๐ฌ๐พ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฒ๐ญ๐ณ๐ญ๐ท๐ญ๐น๐ญ๐บ๐ฎ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ช๐ฎ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ด๐ฎ๐ถ๐ฎ๐ท๐ฎ๐ธ๐ฎ๐น๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ด๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ๐ช๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฐ๐ท๐ฐ๐ผ๐ฐ๐พ๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฑ๐ง๐ฑ๐จ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ท๐ฑ๐ธ๐ฑ๐น๐ฑ๐บ๐ฑ๐ป๐ฑ๐พ๐ฒ๐ฆ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฒ๐ฉ๐ฒ๐ช๐ฒ๐ซ๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ญ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฒ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ฒ๐ด๐ฒ๐ต๐ฒ๐ถ๐ฒ๐ท๐ฒ๐ธ๐ฒ๐น๐ฒ๐บ๐ฒ๐ป๐ฒ๐ผ๐ฒ๐ฝ๐ฒ๐พ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ณ๐จ๐ณ๐ช๐ณ๐ซ๐ณ๐ฌ๐ณ๐ฎ๐ณ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ด๐ณ๐ต๐ณ๐ท๐ณ๐บ๐ณ๐ฟ๐ด๐ฒ๐ต๐ฆ๐ต๐ช๐ต๐ซ๐ต๐ฌ๐ต๐ญ๐ต๐ฐ๐ต๐ฑ๐ต๐ฒ๐ต๐ณ๐ต๐ท๐ต๐ธ๐ต๐น๐ต๐ผ๐ต๐พ๐ถ๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ท๐ด๐ท๐ธ๐ท๐บ๐ท๐ผ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ธ๐ง๐ธ๐จ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ธ๐ช๐ธ๐ฌ๐ธ๐ญ๐ธ๐ฎ๐ธ๐ฏ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฑ๐ธ๐ฒ๐ธ๐ณ๐ธ๐ด๐ธ๐ท๐ธ๐ธ๐ธ๐น๐ธ๐ป๐ธ๐ฝ๐ธ๐พ๐ธ๐ฟ๐น๐ฆ๐น๐จ๐น๐ฉ๐น๐ซ๐น๐ฌ๐น๐ญ๐น๐ฏ๐น๐ฐ๐น๐ฑ๐น๐ฒ๐น๐ณ๐น๐ด๐น๐ท๐น๐น๐น๐ป๐น๐ผ๐น๐ฟ๐บ๐ฆ๐บ๐ฌ๐บ๐ฒ๐บ๐ณ๐บ๐ธ๐บ๐พ๐บ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฆ๐ป๐จ๐ป๐ช๐ป๐ฌ๐ป๐ฎ๐ป๐ณ๐ป๐บ๐ผ๐ซ๐ผ๐ธ๐ฝ๐ฐ๐พ๐ช๐พ๐น๐ฟ๐ฆ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ผ๐ด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ฅ๓ ฎ๓ ง๓ ฟ๐ด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ณ๓ ฃ๓ ด๓ ฟ๐ด๓ ง๓ ข๓ ท๓ ฌ๓ ณ๓ ฟ
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helloooo this is a MASTER POST of my Sherlock Holmes annotations, aka shitpost doodles of my favorite parts with occasional headcanons. I will pin this so it's available and update it as I go because this feels like it's becoming a full series, god help me.
I'm reading the stories in the order they occurred (according to Baring-Gould, who I am currently arm wrestling in the astral plane over how many wives Watson had) so that's how I will present them!
EDIT: decided to draw them in the order that makes sense to me, Baring-Gould youโre too silly
EDIT 2: this is basically a webcomic at this point, with ongoing continuity and a romantic storyline that can be enjoyed if you read in order. I did not intend this, but I have Sherlock Holmes disease and there's only one cure (doing this)
EDIT 3: content warning/advertisement depending on your temperament: this series gets into one of my big interests, historical queerness, period accurate homophobia, and how laws around queerness affected lived experience. it also has things that you can expect from a Sherlock Holmes story like: drug use involving needles, violence, flagrant use of old timey guns, and people dying in shocking and mysterious ways!
Copies of Volume 1 can be pre-ordered here!
A Study in Scarlet ๐ฉธ
The Speckled Band ๐
The Resident Patient ๐ฉบ
The Noble Bachelor ๐ฐ
The Second Stain ๐ฎ
The Reigate Squires ๐
The Dancing Men ๐ฏโโ๏ธ
Silver Blaze ๐๐ป
The Six Napoleons โซ๏ธ
The Red Circle ๐ฏ๏ธ๐ช
The Greek Interpreter ๐ฉน
Mycroft Interlude ๐ฉ
The Beryl Coronet ๐ฅช
The Yellow Face ๐
The Hound of the Baskervilles ๐บ
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
-Part Four
-Part Five
-Part Six
-Part Seven
The Gloria Scott โ๏ธ
The Valley of Fear ๐ฐ
-Part One
-Part Two
Shoscombe Old Place ๐ฃ
Charles Augustus Milverton ๐
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
-Part Four
-Part Five
The Copper Beeches โ๏ธ
-Part One
-Part Two
The Sign of the Four ๐
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
-Part Four
-Part Five
-Illustration
-Part Six
-Part Seven
The Cardboard Box ๐ฆ๐๐ป
Second Interlude ๐
A Scandal In Bohemia ๐
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
The Stockbrokers Clerk ๐ฆท
The Engineerโs Thumb ๐๐ป
The Crooked Man ๐ฆ
The Naval Treaty ๐น
The Five Orange Pips ๐
The Man With The Twisted Lip ๐งฝ
-Part One
-Part Two
The Boscombe Valley Mystery ๐ชจ
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
The Dying Detective ๐ฆช
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
Christmas Eve, 1890 ๐
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
The Blue Carbuncle ๐ชฟ๐
-Part One
-Part Two
-Part Three
-Part Four
The Blanched Soldier ๐ช
The Final Problem
-Part One ๐๏ธ
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DJVHKFJG I ALMOST SAID "WE'RE ALMOST DONE" TO MY MOM. LIKE. WE. AS IN. PLURAL. DIES DIES DIES DIES
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LIFE JAM! it really works! ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐
๐ ๐ ๐ฉธ
#(i think they bleed it lol)#omori#omori omori#omori sunny#omori aubrey#omori kel#omori hero#omori mari#omori basil#my art#cw blood
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